Madeline

Chapter 21

In the morning, I found Anne and Michael in the kitchen. Michael was eating breakfast and Anne was at the stove.

"Morning," Anne said, glancing away from the pan in front of her. I wasn't sure what she was cooking, but it smelled wonderful.

"Good morning," I answered and wondered if I should offer to help. I'd asked countless times and Anne had always shooed me away. I felt bad simply expecting her to do everything, but I didn't want to keep annoying her with my attempts either.

"Sit." She gave me a look that said she knew what I was thinking. Clearly my effort would be pointless, so I obeyed.

"This is Michael." She placed a mouthwatering dish in front of me and then looked at her son. "This is Madeline. She'll be staying with us for a while."

"We met," Michael told her before smiling kindly at me. "How did you sleep?"

"Very well," I said and surprisingly it was true. After he left, I didn't remember waking up once before it was actually the appropriate time.

"What do you mean, you met?" Anne asked with a raised eyebrow, putting her hands to her hips.

Michael looked up at her and gave her a sheepish smile. "Well, you didn't really tell me she'd be here..."

Anne looked between the two of us, realizing what must have happened. "Oh no."

"It's fine," I said quickly.

"It most certainly is not fine," she disagreed.

"He didn't know."

She frowned, unable to argue that point. "He wasn't supposed to be home until this afternoon." She turned her frown on him.

Michael shrugged and I wanted to laugh at his expression. It clearly said, 'I know you're mad, but you love me anyway'. Anne probably wouldn't appreciate me laughing though, so I bit my lip.

"From now on, I'd better not catch you anywhere near that room while Madeline is here," she scolded.

"Yes, Mother," he agreed, looking like he also wanted to laugh.

When Anne turned back to the stove, Michael sent me a goofy, exaggerated grimace. Again, I had to bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we finished eating, Anne shooed me away from cleaning up like always, and I wandered back to my room. Most mornings I'd draw for a while, but today I felt no motivation whatsoever. After staring at my sketch book for a few minutes, trying to stir some inspiration, I decided to take a walk. The weather had been nice over the last few days, and I wanted to explore a little.

It was still chilly, so I bundled up before heading out the door. I was about to start walking down the road with no particular destination in mind, when I spotted Michael in the field beside the house. He was holding an ax and positioning a block of wood on an old tree stump. When he saw me, he waved and I decided to go talk to him instead of starting on my walk.

"Hello." I stopped a good distance away so I wouldn't be in the path of any flying wood.

He brought the ax down on the block of wood, easily splitting it in two, and then glanced at me again. "Hi."

"Sorry I got you in trouble," I said.

"You didn't." He smiled. "It was my own fault. She's not really mad anyway. She rarely is."

"I noticed," I said, feeling a swelling of affection for the woman.

He was quiet as he split another few pieces of wood. After tossing them in the pile off to the side, he looked at me again. "So, how did you happen to come to stay with us anyway?"