Page 17 of Charm on the Rocks
Chapter 8
Friday, to Madison, meant no school. Normally, she would be at Sea Side Ice Palace with the rest of the Gulls Girls, practicing their skating and just having a good, relaxing time, but since today was an away game, she really had nothing on her plate. Because UCI was on a quarter system, school moved fast. She already had a couple of papers due the next week, both of which she had already started on. Perhaps, she could dedicate a couple of hours later today to add to them. Right now, at eleven o’clock in the morning, she wasn’t in the mood to do anything relating to education just yet.
Although, she did have other homework she could do, so to speak. Katella had asked her to give more thought to holding some sort of memorial for Ken Brown.
Madison stared up at her ceiling, still in her pajamas, her arms resting flat on her stomach. The California sunshine tried to break through the blinds she had kept closed since she got her dorm room, and it actually managed to succeed but only slightly. She was paranoid, after reading many articles in Cosmopolitan about how women left their blinds open and doors unlocked and strangers would let themselves in, rape the unsuspecting woman, and possibly kill her afterwards. Even though Madison came from a small town in Michigan, where there was no reason to lock the doors, Madison did it almost at an obsessive rate. She could admit it, she was paranoid. It didn’t matter that her dorm room – which she managed to snag as a single, thank God – was located on the second floor of Campus Village, a section of dormitories for students who wanted a more individual lifestyle or that the school itself was located in Irvine – arguably the safest city in the nation; Madison locked her door, even when she was home, and kept her blinds shut for the most part. She refused to be another statistic.
What could she come up with that would be both respectful, a place for fans to get their closure, but not completely sad? It didn’t have to be formal, but people could still pay their respects.
First, she’d have to think of a venue. Where would people be willing to drive in order to commemorate Ken? Maybe Sea Side would be perfect. Those that knew Ken – both personally and as the Gulls manager and owner – knew that he loved the rink. He loved his work. And it would almost be like they would be coming to a game.
Madison sat up straight, an idea picking a hole inside of her mind.
“What if it was a game?” she mumbled to herself.
She scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over herself because of the mint green blanket that had twisted itself around her ankle, and rushed over to her nearby desk. She grabbed a pen and her planner that was left open on this week’s page before flipping forward a couple of pages until she landed on the first week of October. There, marked with a black Sharpie, was the first game, the season opener: Friday, October 8, against the Gulls’ biggest rival, the Los Angeles Stars.
What if they honored Ken’s memory at the game?
Madison scrawled a couple of notes to herself regarding the idea. She wasn’t sure how to pull it off or if Katella would want something so public in correlation with honoring her grandfather, but it was an idea, and Madison thought it was a pretty good one.
When she finished, she stretched, trying to figure out what else she could do that day. Madison wished she had a few more books to read – fun books, not required reading books – so a trip to the bookstore definitely wouldn’t be out of the question. For now, she probably should call her family. She hadn’t talked to them since she first got here and they were probably worried. Well, her mother probably was. Her father was probably too busy getting ready for hockey season coming up while her three sisters were more interested in boys and school and clothes than what their older sister’s been up to. But that didn’t mean that Madison didn’t miss them.
It was Friday, though. Just because there were no classes for her, she knew that high school was much different and most certainly had school today.
Although... it was after two o’clock in Michigan. Maybe she’d get lucky and her sisters would just be getting home.
Her mother answered after the second ring. “Montgomery residence,” she said.
Madison didn’t realize just how much she missed her mother up until that moment. Her mother’s voice had a slight twang to it, and had been answering the phone the same way as long as Madison could remember. That sameness was reassuring, that just because Madison’s life was changing and new and a little bit unsteady right now, her mother still sounded the same, still greeted callers with the same phrase she had for years.
Maybe she was lonelier than she had anticipated.
“Mom?” Even though she was feeling lonely and tears had accumulated in the lids of her eyes didn’t mean that she wanted to sound that way.
But her mother jumped on it. “Oh, Madison!” she exclaimed sounding so incredibly happy that her first daughter was taking the time to talk about her. “How are you? How’s California? How’s your job?”
Madison inhaled sharply. She absolutely hated lying to her mother about where she worked, but her parents were rather conservative. Despite her father’s love of the sport, being an Ice Girl, a Gulls Girl, wasn’t something they’d be too pleased about, especially her father. In fact, Madison hadn’t owned a miniskirt or short shorts since she had moved to California and out of her parents’ house. Her father had no problem telling his daughters that if they looked too done up, too whorish, as he so eloquently put it, when they went out. So finding out that his daughter was one of those girls, girls that were paid to wear revealing outfits so they could scrape off ice for a national hockey team would be like finding out that his daughter was a stripper or a prostitute. Madison knew her mother wasn’t as restrictive as her father, but she was demure and liked to avoid confrontation whenever possible, especially with her husband.
So instead of telling them that she was a Gulls Girl and accidentally causing both heartbreak and hemorrhaging at the same time, she decided on something safe like a receptionist at a business company.
“It’s good, actually,” Madison replied. She continued to go on about how annoyed she was about a particular co-worker named Faye, how she had made friends with another receptionist, Amanda, and how she was into a guy she went to school with. The latter, she was happy to say – if only to herself – was actually the truth.
“Your father’s at work, or else I’d put him on so you can say hello,” her mother said. “Olivia is out with a friend for a sleepover. But Claire’s here and she’s been motioning to the phone ever since she knew it was you on the line. I know you’re a California girl now, and probably incredibly busy, but do you have time to talk with her?”
Madison laughed at the ridiculousness of the question. “Mom, I am not a California girl,” she assured her. “I don’t have blonde hair and big boobs. I’m still Madison Montgomery, from South Haven. And I have all the time in the world to talk to Claire.”
“Good! Honey, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that. That you’re doing good. You know I miss you and if you need anything, like you want to come home and go to Michigan so you could be closer to your family, I’d get your father to buy you the first ticket home!”
She chuckled, wishing she could take her up on her offer but knew that it was for the best that she was here. “I know, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too. You should call here more often.” There was a muffle – her mother probably put her hand over the phone – and then, “Claire! Madison’s on the phone! Come talk to your sister!”
Madison pressed her lips together in order to hide a smile even though her mother and sister couldn’t see her. Some things never changed.
Claire Montgomery was much like Madison in that the two were more smart than social. But Claire had a mouth on her and was more interested in doing math and physics and solving problems that had definitive answers rather than things like English and history and interpretation. She did like to read, however, but mostly biographies of people she admired. Claire had the same sea-blue eyes and alabaster skin Madison had, but Claire’s hair was more dirty blonde in color rather than dark brown. She and Madison shared the same slender body shape, but Madison was a few inches taller than Claire.
“Hello?”