for comfort and joy.
Madison could barely respond above a whisper. “I know.” With a hard mental shove, she locked all those roiling emotions away. The more she talked about them, the more power they had. It was better just to move forward. “It’s really okay,” she said, mentally reminding herself that her restlessness and fear and pain could be normalized. “Last night, I spent the time cleaning and reading some more of my mother’s journals.” After all, what else was there to do at three in the morning?
There was a gentle caution in Trinity’s question. “Are you sure you’re ready to clean out the house, Madison? Your father has only been gone six months.”
As much as she sometimes wished it didn’t, Madison was well aware that life had to go on. “The house has to go on the market soon. With only me to clean it out…” She shrugged, as if this wasn’t a discussion she’d had with herself a million times over.
Shuffling the papers on the desk before her didn’t distract her from the ache of knowing she would have to sell the only home she’d ever had. It was falling down around her, even after years of doing the best she could with it, but every one of her lifetime of memories involved that house somehow. Knowing she would have to part with it was only making her grief grow exponentially.
But who knew how long it would take to clean out the clutter and sort through her parents’ possessions? She discovered new pockets of stuff all the time. Just a couple of months ago she’d found a collection of journals that had belonged to her mother. Reading them had brought her memory back in vivid detail. They brought her a lot of solace as she sorted through more and more stuff.
And she had no idea how she would afford to do any of the repairs the house would need, much less cosmetic work, before she put it on the market. Her job here paid her substantially better than the odd jobs she’d taken to keep her and her dad afloat after her mother’s accidental death, but years of neglect had led to some significant damage in what had once been the most beautiful, stately home in New Orleans’s Garden District.
Deep down, Madison just wished it was all over and done with. That the house was fixed, sold and being renovated by someone who could afford to return it to its former glory. It might hurt to rip the bandage off, but at least it would be gone.
I can only do so much…was the mantra she lived by. All of her life Madison had focused on one task at a time, because she was only one person, usually working without any help. Coming to Maison de Jardin had allowed her to be part of a team. But for much of her life, it had been her…or nobody.
“I’m so sorry, Madison.”
“Don’t be,” she replied with a shaky smile. But at least she still remembered how to form one. “Coming to work here has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you, Trinity.”
“Girl, I couldn’t do it without you. Especially right now. I know the women here are in good hands. But—” She grinned. “Enough of all this emotion… I have an exciting surprise for you.”
“What?” Madison welcomed the change of subject, relief easing her tense muscles.
“Your dress came in!”
For most women, the news would be exciting. For Madison, it brought on another fit of nervousness. Next week they would be attending a society fund-raising event, a first for Madison. She’d never had cause to leave her father’s sickroom for such things, nor the funds. But in her new capacity as director for Maison de Jardin, it would be her job to mix and mingle with New Orleans’s best and brightest. Though their legacy from Trinity’s deceased husband should fund them for a long time to come, it never hurt to have support from others who could afford to help.
Thus, Madison found herself about to be presented to New Orleans high society.
A generation ago, it would have been Madison’s rightful place. Her parents both came from established families that had helped found this incredible city. The last of their respective lines, the love merger should have cemented them as a power couple.
But Madison only knew this from a few stories she’d heard from her mother growing up. Her mother had been very secretive about their marriage and choice to live a more isolated life despite their prominent home in New Orleans’s Garden District. Something had happened around the time of their marriage, but Madison had never been able to figure out quite what the scandal had been.
Which was why she’d been reading her mother’s journals each night after finding them in one of the closed-off rooms on the upper floor of their house. Maybe there she could find some clue to how her parents had met and married. After all, stories like that might replace the sad memories she currently fought off during her sleepless nights.
Trinity took her hand and led her through the halls of Maison de Jardin to the master suite up on the second floor. It was currently empty, having been Trinity’s room before she moved out when she married Michael Hyatt a mere two months ago. Michael’s tragic death and Trinity’s current battle over his estate left her life a little unsettled. Since Madison lived nearby for the time being, she hadn’t claimed the space as hers, wanting Trinity to still feel like she had a home here if she needed it.
Laid across the pale blue bedspread was a beautiful lavender dress. Madison gasped, letting her fingers train over the soft flow of material.
“It’s an unusual color for a redhead,” Trinity said. “I think it’s gonna be a fabulous choice.”
Madison hoped so.
This was how she would be presented to society. Her stomach churned, though her nerves were a welcome distraction from her earlier grief. First impressions were a big deal. While her family name had been well known in NOLA in the past, history had slowly erased it from the current consciousness. The South still prided itself on its history, and the history of its families, but money stood for a lot more. It was the way of the world. Madison knew that and knew she couldn’t change it. With her father’s illness, her family had drained its coffers until all they had was social security and what little she could eke out from various odd jobs. Her father’s health meant she couldn’t go to work full-time.
She had to remember, this was her job now. Making a good impression would allow her to be helpful to the charity—now and in the future. But that didn’t ease her nerves.
Should she back out now? Give in to the fear and tell Trinity she would need someone who could better handle this part of the job?
“Let’s try it on!” Trinity exclaimed, her excitement puncturing Madison’s growing fears.
When she stepped back into the bedroom suite after changing, Madison didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. The bodice was fitted, with only one strap made out of fabric flowers that went over her left shoulder. Multiple layers of chiffon allowed the skirt to swing around her legs to right above her knees.
“A killer set of strappy heels and you’re all set.”
Madison chuckled. “Let’s just hope I don’t break a leg in them.”
“You’ll be fine. It just takes practice.”
Madison brushed her hands down over the gown, learning the shape with her shaking fingers. She didn’t even look like herself. It was hard to take it all in.
“We can do your hair like this,” Trinity said as she lifted Madison’s mass of thick auburn
