Avalon and Maddock

Chapter 8: Avalon

In the week since our last appointment, I'd seen Maddock every day. I'd been in his arms every day. I'd been held close to his heart every day.

I'd both dreaded his daily visits and eagerly looked forward to them. Before his company had fallen apart, we'd been a physically close couple. Maddock couldn't walk by me without touching me in some way: a hand on my hair, his hand touching mine,  a kiss on my cheek, a husbandly slap on the ass. I'd been the same way with him. 

So for him to have essentially pulled away for the seven months he'd been gone trying to salvage his company, I'd felt deprived. Lonely. Bereft of his presence.

Maddock had always been my rock and my shield, and he made no secret of being there for me, even when I sometimes didn't even know I needed him. He could look at my face and just know I needed a hug, a soft touch, a sweet smile, some loving words whispered into my ear.

Being without Maddock was like being without air most days.

But I'd gotten through the months where he'd been little more than a specter gliding in and out of our lives because I'd had to. I had no choice but to survive and thrive because of two little pairs of eyes that looked up to me for absolutely everything in their lives. You keep moving forward -- even if you're confused, even if you're weary, even if you want to just sit down with your head in your hands and cry -- simply because you have no choice but to keep going. Being strong isn't always a choice, it's often a necessity. Some days I wanted to be weak, to take some time to think about my next steps, but then there were lunches to pack, clothes to wash, meals to prepare, rooms to clean, baths to give, stories to read, teeth to brush, work to complete.

All of these tasks to handle while, in the back of your mind, you're wondering what is going on with your suddenly absent, uncharacteristically uncommunicative husband.

So each day for the last week that he'd come over to hug me, I stood in his strong, solid embrace and let myself have a minute or two of rest. Of reassurance. Of comfort.

Did that make me weak? I worried about that, but it still didn't stop me from stepping into his arms and breathing in my husband's familiar, comforting scent. It didn't stop me from enjoying the feel of being surrounded by his love. It didn't stop me from letting him take on my burdens for one or two minutes before I stepped away and took them back.

I don't even know if he realized almost every single hug lasted longer than the minute Zephyr had assigned as homework. But I wasn't going to tell him the hugs were running long because as much as I hated to admit it, I needed those moments, needed that support.

I alternated between dread that Zephyr would stop the hugs at the next session and hope that she would.

Today when I walked into Zephyr's office, Maddock was already there, sitting on the couch. He leapt up when he saw me, smiling. Before he could say hello, Zephyr swept over to me and greeted me.

"Welcome, Avalon," she said, grasping my hand and shaking it. "Oh, I feel some energy for a good session today. La! La!"

La! was new, and I had no idea what it meant. I was kind of afraid to ask.

Her outfit today was a pink on pink ensemble, but neither her top nor her skirt was any shade of pink I'd seen before. Once again, she was barefoot, but today her hair was up in a messy bun that looked as if it was seconds from escaping the purple ribbon and exploding into chaos. Her bright red zebra-print glasses were in danger of slipping off her nose, and her orange, beaded earrings dangled almost to her shoulders. 

"Hello, Zephyr," I returned.

"Do you have your list? About Maddock's hands?"

Nodding, I handed the list over. I saw she had another piece of note paper in her hands and assumed it was Maddock's list about my hands.