Page 18 of Smuggler's Cove
“How exciting!” Gladys grinned. “We’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” She walked over to Gwen and took her hand. She gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Madison is going to be well taken care of here.”
Gwen believed it.
Mr. Bridwell walked them back to the main building, where their car was waiting. He bent down to look Madison face-to-face. “Do you have any questions for me today?”
“Nuh-uh. I mean, no sir.” Madison remembered her manners.
“Well, if you think of anything, tell your mom and she can phone me.” He turned to Gwen. “Naturally, that goes for you as well.” He held out his hand. “It was a pleasure spending time with both of you today.” He shook Gwen’s first, and then Madison’s.
“Thank you, Mr. Bridwell,” Madison said, as she climbed into the back seat of the limo.
Gwen also thanked him. “I am sure you know how much angst this causes, having a parent put their child in someone else’s hands, but I feel very reassured she will be just fine here.”
“I have no doubt,” Bridwell agreed. “She’s very inquisitive, which we strongly encourage. She is also quite articulate for her age.”
“And she has a bit of talent, too, but I’m sure every parent says that about their child,” she said, chuckling.
“You’d be surprised. Some parents can’t wait to drop their kids off and speed out of the driveway.”
Gwen caught her breath. That’s exactly what Jackson was doing with his children. She consoled herself with the knowledge hers would be home for the weekends. At least she had Lincoln full time for the next two years, unless Jackson had a different plan he wasn’t sharing.
Mr. Bridwell gave Gwen the address of the shop where Madison could get her uniform. The administration believed that if everyone wore the same clothes, it would blur the class lines. Some children came from very wealthy families, while a few were there on special grants or scholarships. Having a uniform did exactly what it meant: everyone dressed uniformly. Gwen was surprised that Madison didn’t put up a fuss. Madison loved clothes and putting together her outfits. But having a uniform was fine during the week. She could get creative at home.
It was also a plus that there wouldn’t be any contests for who had the nicest things. Madison would become uncomfortable when the friends her father chose for her became competitive. It was always a challenge about who had the prettiest dress at a party. It was never an issue with Olivia. If Olivia admired one of Madison’s dresses, Madison would ask her mother if it would be alright if Olivia could have it after she wore it. Gwen was often taken aback by Madison’s generosity at such an early age. If Madison was okay with it, then Gwen could not object. Most party dresses were only worn once if they were going to be in the company of the same people. Jackson insisted. Gwen thought it was ridiculous, almost vulgar, but Jackson wanted to make sure everyone knew they were dripping in money. For him, it was all about conspicuous consumption.
The weekend before Madison was to leave for school, her mother planned a lunch date and a puppet play with Sandra and Olivia. The girls squealed to their hearts’ delight as puppets flew on “invisible” wires across the stage and above their heads. Gwen loved it when Madison could be just a kid, playing with her best friend. After the play, they stopped at the iconic Serendipity, known for its whimsical décor and decadent, luscious desserts. It was a perfect day.
Madison and Olivia hugged each other and said their farewells, sad that they would miss each other, but vowing to see each other soon. That was Gwen’s promise to Madison. Even if she had to sneak behind Jackson’s back. Not that he would notice.
Madison packed her favorite books and some casual clothes for when she was not in class. Of course, she could not leave Mr. Jinx behind. He was her favorite stuffed animal. She remembered asking her mother when Mr. Jinx was born. “He is the same age as you are, honey. Uncle Kirby gave him to you. Remember?”
“Yes.” Madison furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “How come we don’t see Uncle Kirby very much?”
Gwen wanted to say, “Because your father is a snob,” but settled for, “He lives a long way from here.” It was a little less than two hours, depending on traffic, but to a kid, that is a long way away.
When Madison finished putting her things together, her mother carried the suitcase down the stairs and placed it in the entry. Madison bounded down behind her. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s working.” Gwen gave the robotic answer, whether he was working or not.
Madison shrugged. She was used to him not being around except when they had lavish parties. She had a piano recital a few weeks before, and he was a no-show. Odd thing for someone who insisted his daughter have piano lessons. Madison thought he wasn’t proud of her, but she knew her mother was.
After Madison finished a perfect performance of “Für Elise,” Gwen, Sandra, and Olivia leapt from their chairs and cheered. Even at her young age, Madison appreciated the connection of friendship. She observed the bond her mother and Sandra shared, and she felt the same kind of kinship for Olivia. The people who cared about you were always there for you, no matter in body, mind, or spirit. Even her little brother Lincoln, who was too young to attend, gave her hugs and kisses before she left the house. Yep. Actions often speak louder than words, just as much as a lack of it can show.
Madison gave Phoebe a hug. “Don’t let Lincoln turn into a brat,” she said, and giggled at the housekeeper.
Phoebe leaned over and wrapped her arms around the little girl. “We will see you on the weekend, honey. Have fun!”
Gwen and Madison climbed into the town car that was waiting for them. The two sat close together. Gwen held Madison’s hand. “You know, sweetie, you can come home any time you want. I mean it. Whenever you want. And if you really don’t like it, we can figure out something else.”
“It’s okay, Mommy. I liked the school. Mr. Bridwell seems nice, and I like Gladys.”
“What about your room? It’s not like the one you have here.”
Madison gave a little shrug. “It’s okay. I have a new bedspread and some cool pillows.”
“Yes, you do. I particularly like the one you made from leftover felt.”
Madison nodded. After one of the Taylor’s extravagant parties, there were pieces of felt left over from the decorations. Madison asked if she could have them. She cut the felt into smaller pieces, made a felt mosaic of the letterM, and sewed it to an old toss pillow. “That’s so I know it’s mine.” She giggled.
