In Sequence | H.S.

25.

I've always tried to make my friends feel like a priority but I guess with what's happening with Harry and with my lawyers recently...everythings been on the backburner, including my most important relationships.

"Sarah-"

"Mads-"

We both look at each other and start laughing...well it's more like giggling but we'll blame that on the wine.

"You go first." She tells me while her fingers fumble around with the buttons on her coat.

"I'm sorry I've been neglecting our friendship," I admit. "I promise I didn't mean to let everything get this far."

Mitch takes her hand and places it to her side while he swiftly does up her jacket. Her lip quickly goes between her teeth and it shows that she was using the fidgeting of her buttons to lessen her anxiety.

I hate that I did that to one of my best friends.

She shakes her head. "I think it was partially me overthinking everything, too. It wasn't all just you. I could've communicated with you just as much."

I held out my pinky towards her. "I promise that I'll be better at communicating."

She linked hers with mine and gave me a smile. "Me too."

I shut the door behind them and turned to see Carlson getting started on the mess in the kitchen from all of the festivities that occurred over the course of a few hours tonight.

A roll is tossed towards my side of the island and stops before rolling off the edge. "You hungry?"

I shake my head and grab the empty wine bottles to throw away.

"I'm full," I avoid eye contact with him and continue. "Everything was good though"

He hums in disapproval but doesn't say anything as he continues to load the dishwasher.

"What?"

"Nothing... I can't force you."

The way he's beating around the bush instead of just outright saying he's disappointed in me is frustrating me. I really did try tonight to eat more than I usually do - and I did. It's not like I was going to recover overnight and he needs to remember that.

"I had two plates, Carlson."

He gives a small nod and continues cleaning.

"I can do that." I reach for the rag he's using to wipe down the counters and he pulls his hand away.

"I have to wait on my ride anyways. It's not a big deal. Let me help."

I stare at him and watch as he reaches his tall body over the counter and wipes down corner to corner. His hair falls a little over his eyes and his head strategically dodges the low setting lights as he scrapes all the crumbs into the palm of his hand.

As he brings his hands over the sink and swipes them against each other, his phone goes off. "That's my ride."

I walk to the door with him and he brings his arms around my neck and rests one hand on my shoulder and gives it a rub. "You're my best friend, Mads. I know I'm overprotective but, fuck, you can't blame me sometimes."

I nod into his chest and he lets me go and shuts the door behind him.

Before I get ready for bed, I walk over to the roll that he tossed to me earlier and tear off a piece and bring it to my mouth.

___

I pull up to the house I grew up in and find two SUV's I have never seen before in the driveway. My dad must have gotten a new housekeeper or has been using this house as storage for all of his cars.

I walk up the long sidewalk that leads up to the front door that's still yellow - just how mom painted it.

My mom used to beg my dad to allow her to paint the door yellow but my dad always said that it looked trashy and like a daycare...it stayed colorless until she was diagnosed with Lupus.

It's like a flip had switched in my dad and it didn't matter what my mom wanted to do anymore - he didn't care.

I remember the avoided glances and the unspoken words that held the most daunting silences. I would be so scared to speak in fear that it would cause the foundation of their silent love to crack. That I would be the cause for everything to be crumbling down.

So I stayed quiet.

For the holidays, my mom used to make this specific potato dish and a pecan pie without fail. She always used her favorite dishes to serve it and I stored them in a specific place that wouldn't allow them to get too dusty. I don't come to this house enough. I can't blame it on distance anymore because I live in the same city now. I'm just a coward who can't seem to face my past and the lack of a future my mother got. Inside, it's like a time capsule... full of memories that made us who we are - whether we like it or not.

I bring my key to the door and once I twist it, I find that it's unlocked. As soon as I open the door I can hear the murmurs come from a different room. I make my way to the voices and find the table to be surrounded by people I don't recognize - except for one.

The conversations stop as all eyes turn to me.

I look around, not stopping my vision on one person for too long and take in what I'm seeing.

My father brought his girlfriend and her family to my mom's home.

At the table sat my dad next to a beautiful woman with long, curly red hair and a younger version of her in the chair to the left.

"Madelyn," My dad's voice booms with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" Taking a step backwards and finding myself against the wall. "I came for some things to make dinner with."

He smirks and looks around the room making a show of it, "What would you be here for, exactly?"

"The dishes mom used to use."

He blinks and his eyes leave mine to give the table his attention. I follow him and see what I came here for had already been set out.

A soft voice speaks up, "I'm so sorry, Madelyn. I didn't know you were coming to use these. Your dad told me that you had plans already and you weren't able to make it today."

I shook my head.

I was invited here but my dad made it seem like I wasn't.
I was wanted here but my dad made it seem like I wasn't.

"Let me put these in another dish and I'll wash them out for you."

The kind woman starts to stand and grab the platters but a hand lands on her forearm and pulls her away, "Honey, we shouldn't uproot our plans just because my daughter came a little late." He chuckles as if playing it off as a joke. "She got that part from her mother."

She shakes his hand off of her and continues her task to the kitchen. "I'll be right back."

The older gentleman sitting across from my dad clears his throat and wipes the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin before turning around to face me. "So, Madelyn is it? Come sit down and tell us all of the stories of your father throughout the years. I want to make sure my future son in law will treat my family well."

I give him a polite smile and dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, reminding myself that this will be over soon. "What would you like to know?"

"What was it like growing up with Timothy Parsons, NHL all star, as a dad?"

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We'll be back soon.

Xx.