Romantic love story

Chapter Nine: Reaching for Hope

Having not eaten since yesterday's lunch, Madison had little energy to offer the cleaning effort. First she faded into silence, then began to droop so much Terry made her sit down until he realized her problem. It took effort to calm down and head back to the Johanneses' house to make an early lunch for her. He reproached himself for letting her go so long without eating, for not being more careful when it came to food and Madison. His thoughts came as rapidly as his stride, and it wasn't until he reached the Johanneses' front door that he thought to look back.

His heart twisted when he saw Madison limping to catch up.

Tuna sandwiches. He would make lunch and focus on something else besides the wounded puppy.

Slapping together generous slices of bread, tuna, and mayo, he made enough to satisfy his own hunger, as well as hers. He settled at the kitchen table while Madison stared at her meal. He hoped getting her to eat was not going to become a daily habit.

A sturdy look on his part, and she picked up her sandwich and began nibbling like a rabbit in someone else's garden. No wonder she looked so thin. She seemed unused to the concept of regular meals, and he suspicioned she was accustomed to starvation of some sort.

It made him think. Her first memory of abuse was somewhere between the ages of seven and nine, and she had suffered acutely up until a few weeks or months ago. The evidence pointed heavily to a family member being the abuser.

Though it grieved Terry to even think such a thing, he could not change facts or what he saw with his own eyes. No friend of the family could have such continual access for so long a time, without it being a close relative. Horror and disgust churned in Terry's stomach until even the taste of his tuna sandwich turned bitter. He forced himself to eat. Little good would come from lingering too long over the past, especially when it picked the scabs of his own traumatic childhood. Better to not think too much, than to let the pain ooze out and overtake him again.

He shoved away from the table, and did it with such force, Madison jumped at least an inch off her chair. Doing his best to ignore it, Terry grabbed his hat from off the table.

"You can finish the inside windows after you're done eating. Okay?"

She nodded hurriedly.

"I'll be outside if you need me. And stop looking so frightened-- all I did was get up." He put on the work gloves while trying to force back the visceral sensation of his step-father pushing him down, the heavy breathing that never failed to sear Terry with deep-rooted shame. "You wanted this," sounded sharply in his brain, until the echoes of it reached his heart. His knees buckled, and for a moment, he had to brace himself against the kitchen chair.

Not again, Lord. Please, don't let him win again.

The sound of someone choking made Terry look up. Madison was stuffing the sandwich down her throat so she could leave with him.

"Hey," he let go of the chair, "slow down." He moved to her, picked up a glass of water and pushed it into trembling hands. "I won't leave until you're done, so slow down."

Water spilled from around her mouth, dribbled down her chin and onto her shirt. She placed the cup on the table, jerked the coat on as though he might leave without her.

"You've got crumbs." Terry touched his cheek, and nodded when she swiped her mouth with the sleeve of his old coat. "Good enough. Let's get out of here."

Moments away from leaving, John, Izumi, and Dick came inside. Dick was laughing over something John had said, and John sounded deep in discussion as they pulled off gloves and hats, relating some incident of Abby as a little girl.