Discovering Madison Wendover

3 - Maddie

I adore my new apartment. It's taken me a couple of days to unpack and settle, but it's exactly what I want. The open floor plan in the living/dining/kitchen area feels roomy and welcoming.  The spare bedroom doubles as a guest room and office. The other small bedroom is large enough to host a workout room for my equipment and still has room for my rowing machine and treadmill. But I might live forever in the master bedroom. It's large enough for my king-size bed and matching dressers and includes a small sitting area that I haven't yet furnished. I'm thinking about adding a recliner and a loveseat but can't quite decide. The master bath has an oversized tub, a separate shower with room for a party, and a granite-topped vanity with enough drawers that I've unpacked all my toiletries and still have empty ones.

The floors are all hardwood or tile, so I've splurged on some gorgeous area rugs for the bedrooms and living area. As soon as I let Ciara know I wanted to move, she snagged this apartment for me. My work is virtual, meaning I can live wherever I want to and my hours are my own, but it's up to me to provide any insurance or retirement benefits I might need. My job pays well, I have no debt, and no family. It's all me. My clients contract with me from anywhere in the world. I love meeting them. I love learning what they need and providing that for them. I love the freedom of working for myself.

This also means sometimes I'm working at 3 a.m. so I can meet with a client halfway around the globe during their regular work hours. Or I have a deadline. Or I just can't sleep, so work sounds like a good alternative. I'm not really a night owl. I love mornings. But life doesn't always accommodate our loves. 

I met Ciara when we were both attending college in Middle Falls. She lived in the dorm next door and hated me immediately. Neither of us is sure why, but that hatred made my life miserable for the space of three months. Then one day we both ended up at the same support group for survivors of violent crimes. We listened to each other's stories and realized that we'd both been date-raped by the same guy. She'd been brave enough to initiate a police report. I'd just curled up inside myself and died.

When Ciara found out what had happened to me, she let me know we'd be roommates. Not knowing the force behind my new friend, I laughed a bit and said we could talk about it when my lease was up. 

"What? You don't want to move in now?" Ciara was incensed. 

"It's not that. I'd love to move. I don't like my roommate and my room always smells like mildew. But I have a contract. I need to wait until it's up for renewal, then we can talk about moving in."

"Just sell the contract." 

"Ciara, I don't think that's an option."

"Okay. If I look into it and find out that it is an option, will you move in with me now?"

"Let's say it's an option. I'd still have to sell it. And did I mention my room does not smell great?"

"You did." Ciara's self-satisfied smile didn't leave her face. "Let me see what I can do."

The next day my contract had sold and when I came home from class, there was a note on my door letting me know I had a new home. It was years later when Ciara finally confessed to buying my contract so that I would come live with her. She has way too much money at her disposal.

When I mentioned I was considering moving back to Middle Falls, Ciara told me she had a room ready for me in her enormous house. I wasn't having it. 

"Ciara, I want my own place."

"But Maddie, we need to be together. I've missed you."

"We can still do things together, but I work. I know you don't - "

Ciara gasped. "I do, too! You know I work!"

Ciara is a photographer. She does work. When she feels like it. She's actually highly sought because her studio is gorgeous and she has some sort of crazy magic that happens when she gets behind a camera. But she doesn't keep regular hours, and it's not unknown for her to be on vacation for a month at a time. I don't have that luxury.

"You do." I was backtracking. "I just meant that my job isn't as flexible as yours. I love it, but I'm not able to block as much time off as you're able to. Sometimes I have business meetings in the wee hours of the morning. And I work a weird schedule. I wouldn't want to disturb you."

"You wouldn't." Ciara was confident. "I've reserved an entire wing just for you. It will be exactly like having your own place, but we can come find each other whenever we want to."

This was what I wanted to avoid.

"Ciara, I love you so much! And I love that you want me there. But I'm finally in a place where I can live by myself and not be afraid. I want to do this. I want my own home in Middle Falls where I live alone."

"But why? Just explain, please."

"Middle Falls is where I was assaulted. It's where I went through so much depression and anxiety and stress. I've always hated it, even when you rescued me. I want to choose to live  there because I can. Because I'm no longer afraid. I need to do this for me."

I felt Ciara's acquiescence even over the phone. She'd done similar things to help herself heal during the past seven years. She knew exactly what I was talking about. 

"All right. Then let me find you a place. Rent or buy? Price range? Yard? Pool?"

We discussed the ideal place for me to live. Then Ciara the Invincible found exactly what I wanted and now I'm here. I reach for my phone to call and let her know how much I love my apartment, then remember she's in Ireland. It's 6 PM by my clock, so it's midnight for Ciara. Not a good time for a call. I tap out a text:

Hey, Sexy! I'm here and all moved in. This place is just perfect! Can't wait for you to come hang out. How's the family emergency resolving? Call me? You know I'm available pretty much always.

There's no answering text, of course. I have a few hours before I want to go to bed, so I don a bikini, braid my hair, grab a towel, and make my way to the pool. The heat of the day is finally breaking, and while it's still very warm, it's comfortable to sit in my next-to-nothing swimsuit near the pool. I've brought a book to read and a bottle of water. 

Leaving my towel, water, and book on one of the loungers, I walk to the deep end of the pool and dive in. I'm the only one enjoying the water. The few people scattered on the deck seem too tired to do anything but snooze, sip drinks, or play with their phones. It's as if they feel some obligation to leave the air conditioning of their homes for a tiny moment, but they don't intend to get wet. It seems an utter waste of this lovely pool, but I don't regret having it to myself.

I claim a lane in the lap end, swimming to the end and back before noticing that I'm actually not the only pool occupant. A man swims laps a few lanes down from me. He swims half the length underwater before breaking the surface for a breath, then disappearing again. I don't know how he does that. He's holding his breath for a long time. I think I'd panic if I had to do that.

I stop swimming and watch him for a few minutes, then pick up where I left off. When I began bodybuilding, I chose swimming and running as cardiovascular activities to help keep my body fat low. Now I do both because I love them but also because they help me manage post-traumatic stress disorder. And I love the boost of believing that if anyone ever tries to attack me again, they'll be hard-pressed to catch me if I start running. This is probably not true, but it makes me feel better to believe it.

The pool is standard size. I want to swim a mile which means I need about 65 laps. I dig in and start swimming, alternating strokes every couple of laps, both for practice and enjoyment. I'm feeling the exertion by lap 47 so I slow my pace for the final laps. When I finish, I change to a leisurely pace to cool down, then flip over, floating on my back while my heart rate slows. 

I let my feet drop to the bottom and walk to the side to exit the pool when I feel someone staring at me. It's an eerie and unpleasant sensation. My heart starts racing and for a moment my vision blurs. Breathing deeply through looming panic, I turn to see who is watching and identify him as the other lap-swimmer. As my vision clears, I recognize him as Jonas, the man who helped me on moving day.