Life Lost and Found

16: Stolen Glances

Wednesday, September 10

Madeline waved a cheerful goodbye to the family she'd just finished working with. "Come back soon, okay?"

As soon as the Studio's front door closed, Madeline sank heavily onto a bench by the window. She set her camera beside her and buried her face in her hands. She was shaking a little, and tiny beads of sweat moistened her skin.

Then Sydney was next to her. "Oh, Maddy-Sue, that was simply beautiful, darling!"

"Oh! Sydney!" Madeline straightened up and willed herself to stop shaking. "I thought you were in your office with a client."

"I was, but we finished early. Look, I have to say, I'm impressed with you, baby. I've been watching from upstairs."

Madeline was glad she hadn't known that before. She had already felt enough pressure without knowing the boss was watching. "Oh. So I, um, I did a good job?"

"You sure did. Hon, you've got more spirit than old Pastor Andy after he saved his congregation from a one-way trip to hell!"

Madeline snickered shyly. "Uh, thanks." She often wondered if these people—the Wiggins, Aunt Tilly, Pastor Andy—were actually real.

Sydney hugged Madeline around the shoulders. "I know it's tricky for you, dealing with strangers and all."

More than tricky. She sank a little. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to a trained eye. You hide it pretty well on the job."

Madeline was both surprised and relieved to hear that.

"Not so well anywhere else though," Sydney added thoughtfully. "Why do you think that is?"

Madeline thought about that. Good question. "I don't know. I must like what I'm doing here enough to get through it."

"Do you like what you're doing, Maddy? Do you like being here?"

Madeline nodded. "I do. It's hard sometimes, being away from home and doing all these new things, but I like it."

"Good." Sydney gave her another squeeze and leaned in until their heads were touching. In a soft voice, she asked, "How are we doing otherwise? Have we escaped what we were afraid of?"

Sydney was referring to what Madeline had said the night of the Rooker wedding: I think I'm scared of... me. Of what will happen if I stay here. If I don't change something.

It was a good question. But it was one Madeline didn't have a clear answer to. Sydney appeared to sense this. "It's all right, hon, if you don't know. But I hope you do know this—you will always have a safe place here, Maddy-Sue. With us."

Madeline wasn't sure what that meant. When the predator was yourself, did it matter where you went or how safe it was? Your self was still with you. But, by that logic, why hadn't she simply remained in Ackland?

Whoa now, Madeline. Circular Thinking Alert. Her brain already felt too much like sizzling bacon (minus the glory that is bacon). If she let herself go rampant with overthink, she would never make it through the rest of the day. Besides, that kind of thinking was meant for the middle of the night—because what good had a full night's sleep ever done? Right? Exactly.

"I'm proud of you, kid," Sydney said as she stood up, and she left Madeline with a wink.

Madeline blushed. I'm proud of you. Those were words she hadn't heard in a really, really long time. Even if they were merely proof that wonderful people occasionally lie, they were still nice to hear.

Later, Madeline returned to her office. "Hi, Rob," she greeted, but he had his headphones on.

Madeline sat down and put hers on too. They weren't very good, but they were all she had. But on the topic of ears and stuff, Page had finally talked her into buying some music, which was simultaneously awesome and terrible. She had owned exactly four CDs growing up, all of them gifts. Now she had already spent more money than she cared to think about downloading tracks, and she had multiple streaming music accounts.

Music, right? It was better than Cheetos. Or Reese's Pieces. Or Cheetos and Reese's Pieces. It helped her focus, to get crap done. If she had known this glorious truth in high school, she probably would have sold her dad's car for a music player. Without telling him. Also her GPA would have been more impressive. Especially if she'd been able to wear headphones in class. For caring so much about her standardized test scores, her school sure hadn't done much to help her raise them.

To avoid thinking about high school, she looked out the window to her left—and in the process caught Rob peeking at her with that little grin of his. She blushed and snapped her eyes back to her monitor. He had been doing that more and more since the day with the shopping and the salon and the Conditioning Stuff (which she had since renamed to Magic Sauce: Hair Edition).

He may or may not have caught her stealing glances back too.

Sydney called her from below, and Madeline hurried partway down the stairs.

"You're the best thing since car keys, Maddy! Like I said, you're doing great!" Sydney shouted up the stairs as she flipped through a stack of prints Madeline had done earlier that morning.

"Yeah, thanks," Madeline called back. Realization: She craved compliments, but she rarely accepted them when they were given. Why? More fuel for the rampant, circular thinking tonight. Yay! "And, um, car keys?"

Sydney put a hand on her hip. "My metaphors don't have to make sense to everyone. Bye-bye, sugar. Gina and I have a thing, so we won't be back for the rest of the day."

"Okay. If it's all right, I'm going to stay and work on my competition piece for a while."

"Of course, hon. You're gonna knock their socks off! It'll be awkward, all those suddenly bare feet, but you'll get the Studio some nice exposure, which I approve of. Have fun!"

It took Madeline about an hour to finish her regular work, after which she began on her competition piece. She usually worked hard and fast, but for this she wanted to slow down. This was her masterpiece, her Elder Wand, her One Ring. For some reason, she never had trouble focusing on this. In fact, sometimes it was the opposite—she often focused so hard that hours passed without her noticing. She'd had to walk home late at night a few times because of it.

She looked at Rob before she got started. He was focused intently on his screen, and the way the sun dimly filtered through the thick vellum window shade on the far wall framed his profile perfectly. Her eyes lingered longer than she expected them to. A lot longer. Eventually, he glanced over, and she quickly looked away.

When she looked at him again a few seconds later, his eyes were back on his screen, but there was a small grin on his lips. Now what did that mean?