Grapes Upside Down

51. Chocolate Cake

~Madisen~

Noah just holds me on the dining room floor, without speaking, arms wrapping me up in a tight cocoon. Here and there, he wipes my tears with delicate fingers. I'm practically in his lap by the time my crying has subsided, and the sound of his heart beating against my cheek grounds me with its singular, repetitive rhythm.

I don't disappear or combust from the pain and rage.

"Gracias," I finally wheeze out, once I've long overstayed the acceptable time frame draped across his body. "Lo siento."

Untangling myself gingerly from his limbs, I stare down and around to avoid eye contact.

"Madisen," Noah calls gently, his voice lightly hoarse, as if he had been crying with me. "No tienes que seguir diciendo eso."

"I don't have to keep saying what?"

"Lo siento--that you're sorry."

"I know it doesn't fix anything," I whisper, a sliver of rust scraping out from my throat. Shame again flushes up and down my body as I retreat in haste to my bedroom.

*

The next morning, I finally call my moms. In lieu of explaining the demise of my relationship with Ignacio, all I can do is apologize on repeat for the non-refundable airplane ticket.

"Madisen, slow down, sweetheart," Mama Cami soothes, interrupting my scattered babbling. "You ended things with Ignacio?"

"I'm so unbelievably stupid!" I spit out for the millionth time since our breakup.

"Sh," my mothers both coo, allowing me space to cry, holding the image of my splotchy face, scrunched up and spattered with tears, through the screen. Their expressions, placid and unflinching, reminding me that their love is unconditional.

"Mumford and Mommy?" Eliana's Super Sonic feet sprint into the room. I see her in the background, surveying the dining table. "What? You said you would make me a strawberry smoothie this morning!"

"Good morning to you, too, Elly Belly," Mother Jen calls, scooping my sister into her lap.

The presence of my little sister, the view of my childhood home in the background, transports me out of my toxic thought loops, settling me the slightest bit back into myself.

"I'll make you a smoothie as soon as we finish talking to Madisen," offers Mama Cami.

"Hi, Elly!" I call, a spirt of joy gushing through the grief.

"No! Now!" she bellows, ignoring my greeting.

"I'll set a timer so I can finish my conversation with Madisen, because she is sad and needs our attention this morning, too. Can you be patient for five minutes or for three minutes?"

"Three!" Elly snaps back automatically. "Because three is less than five, and I don't want to wait a long time to drink a smoothie!" She draws out the "o" sound of "long" for about seven seconds, and I cover my mouth to stifle a giggle.

"Okay, I'm setting this to three minutes," our mom replies, twisting Eliana's special rainbow timer. The device has become a life-saver to our family as we raise this little fire-cracker, who has the strongest will of anyone we've ever met.

Elly suddenly makes a very emphatic sign towards our mothers, thumb to chest, palm spread open, fanning in an arch motion back and forth.

"Do you know that sign, Madisen?"

"No...?"

"It means 'fine!'" Elly informs me, the verbal translation sharp and sassy.

I have to trap my reaction inside, because she gets upset when we laugh at the hilarious things she does. But the croaking cackle at the back of my throat cracks through my melancholy like a golden sun ray.