Page 48 of All Because of You

Clearing her throat, Madison hurried to the next shelving unit around the corner, pretending to peruse the book spines. If she were going to work here, talking to herself wasn’t the best first impression. Yeah, working in a bookstore making minimum wage wasn’t her dream job, but she hoped it would only be temporary.

Emily, an acquaintance from grad school, had made inquiries for Madison with some librarians she knew about potential jobs but nothing sounded overly promising. Madison had already been online and applied for the paltry number of jobs she could find. If she could only snag one that was funded with grant money, so be it. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Maybe she just needed to accept that sure things didn’t exist.

Maybe that’s why Evan’s betrayal had stung so much—she’d finally started believing that she could count on him, that he’d never let her down.

For the second time, her stomach protested her lack of food today, so Madison headed to the coffee shop and ordered a passion iced tea and a premade chicken salad sandwich. Skipping the use of Darshell’s promo code, Madison paid and whisked out the door and into the fading sunshine of a Californian day. The bookstore was only a short distance from the beach, so she followed the winding sidewalk toward the sand and found a spot that wasn’t overly crowded.

Close by, a group of people readied a pile of wood, stacking it into the telltale tented structure necessary for a beach bonfire. Several of them laughed and chatted, their scattered words floating toward her on the breeze. While some worked on lighting the fire, others pulled sticks, hot dogs, and marshmallows from their coolers and bags.

Unwrapping her sandwich and taking a bite, Madison watched the sun sink against the horizon. The bread was soggy, melding in her mouth with the wet chicken, but Madison was too hungry to protest. When she was done, she pulled her knees against her chest and rested her chin on top to ward off the sudden chill of the early evening.

The last time she’d been on the beach at night, Evan had been with her.

She tried to push the errant thought from her mind, but Madison found herself thinking about the way he’d wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her close against him, sharing his warmth after a long day of exhausting work.

What was he doing right now? Was he just as miserable as she was, or was he spending his Friday night in a much better way? Maybe he’d already moved on from her, finding comfort in female companionship with a homegrown Walker Beach girl, someone who truly belonged there—not someone who only wished she did.

OK, time to get off this beach and bury herself in a good book. That always took the edge off. But Madison found her eyes mesmerized by the undulating flames of the now-lit bonfire. She couldn’t look away from the friends who had gathered there. One woman strummed a guitar and sang, her hypnotic voice numbing Madison’s will to move.

And then, in the stillness, a memory surfaced. Was it freshman year? Sophomore? Aunt Chrissy had found out that students from the high school were getting together for a bonfire after a football game one Friday night, and she’d asked whether Madison would be joining them.

“Um, no. I’m not even going to the game.” Madison planned to stay home and snuggle up with the latest John Green novel. She even had a box of tissues nearby, anticipating the book’s sure ability to tug at her heartstrings.

“Hmm.” It was all her aunt said, but Madison knew it signaled her disapproval. Still, Aunt Chrissy didn’t say anything else about it.

That evening, her aunt interrupted her reading and asked if Madison would like to join her for a walk. Madison wanted to say no, but she couldn’t refuse the look on her aunt’s hopeful face. After all, Aunt Chrissy hadn’t asked to be burdened with a social outcast for a niece. And some fresh air might not be the worst thing in the world.

But as they walked, veering toward the beach, Madison grew suspicious. As a roaring fire came into view, she nearly put on the brakes. Before she could, though, Aunt Chrissy turned to her. “Let’s sit for a minute, shall we?”

It’s not like they were close to the fire, but even just being out here—seeing her fellow students teasing, pushing, shrieking playfully, singing, eating—it all twisted her insides into a knot of . . . what? Surely not longing. She’d had the chance to go and hadn’t. Of course, it’s not like she’d had anyone to go with. Her only real friend, Ashley, was too caught up with her fellow cross-country teammates these days to spend any time with Madison.

Glad her aunt couldn’t hear her thoughts, Madison begrudgingly sat next to her in the soft sand. For several minutes, they didn’t speak, just listened to the ocean lapping, the tug of the waves going in, going out. But even the ocean couldn’t drown out the laughter of the students down the beach.

“Madison.” Aunt Chrissy turned toward her niece. The moonlight softened the sharp point of her nose, illuminating the fine lines around her mouth and the corners of her eyes—smile lines, because her aunt was so often happy. “Are you cold?”

OK, that’s not what she’d expected her to say.

Was she cold? “I guess.” The temperature must have lowered slowly because until this moment, she hadn’t noticed.

Her aunt hesitated then looped an arm through Madison’s.

At first, Madison stiffened. Her aunt knew she wasn’t a fan of physical contact. But after a minute or two, she began to melt against Chrissy. There was something so real, so comforting in her touch.

“You know, as a kid, fire scared me.”

Huh? What was Aunt Chrissy talking about?

“Whenever my family went camping, I’d sit as far away as I possibly could, terrified I’d get burned.”

Madison glanced at Aunt Chrissy, whose eyes were transfixed on the bonfire. Oh. She was about to get all metaphorical on Madison. “Aunt Chrissy . . .” But she stopped and let her aunt continue. It wasn’t like she could have stopped her anyway.

Aunt Chrissy squeezed Madison’s arm with a light touch. “My brother—your dad—made fun of me, but I wouldn’t budge. Inevitably, though, I’d start to get cold, and I’d complain. And my mom would say, ‘If you’d only move closer to the fire, you’d be warm.’”

“But you weren’t wrong. Firescanburn you.” The instant the words were out of her mouth, Madison grimaced. She’d played right into Aunt Chrissy’s hand with that one.

“They can. But they usually don’t.” Her aunt paused, inhaling deeply the brackish scent permeating the air. “People may disappoint you, Madison, and that’s a risk we take in relationships. But there is also great joy to be found in closeness with others. If you spend your life afraid of the flames, you’ll never know the true warmth of love.”

The memory drifted away on the same breeze that carried the woodsy scent of fire to tickle Madison’s nose.

---