Madison Awakening

It’s Sunday. Daddy and Maddy day and we always end with a trip to the park. I can feel the sun shining on my skin with a bit of crisp air swirling around me. Monkey bars, then see-saw and we end on my favorite, the swings.

“Higher Daddy! Higher!!”

“Okay baby girl. But this is your last push. You have to keep yourself moving higher,”

“Okay Daddy, I can do it…”

Daddy gives me one more push and I feel like I’m flying. I hear the whooshing in my ears and start pumping my legs. The sun becomes warmer on my skin the higher I go. But I can’t see daddy this high. I look around and around. Then I look down and he is lying on the ground beneath me in a pool of red. 

“Daddy!!” I scream and jump from the swing. By time I hit the ground he is gone and so is the red. I look around to see where he’s gone but all I see is the blond and the baby, sitting on the bench….

I woke up with my heart racing and the scent of Jonathan on my skin, so I decided to go for a run to clear my head. Calvin Harris is blaring in my ears as I’m half way through my 5k run on the quiet country road, while my lungs burn as I take each step. I inhale the scent of the rain and I propel my legs to keep going as the green landscape flashes by. 

Dreaming about my dad was something that would happen once in a blue, but recently he’s been more present. He’s been gone for almost a decade in the fall and lately the dreams are becoming more intense. The loss of my dad is an ever present dull ache. The conflict within about who he truly was, I push deep down and try to never let out. But my subconscious seems to be giving me some push back.

Sergeant Edward Davis was a decorated member of the NYPD for twenty years and the best dad in the world. He was fun, caring, and kind, but also a disciplinarian. He met my mom at the party when she was a senior in high school and within the year they were married and I was born. They never confirmed it was a shotgun wedding but the math pretty much matches.

As a couple, when things were good they were great. They were always cooking and dancing in the kitchen, laughing and kissing. But when they would fight, things were explosive. He never hit my mother but there was definitely rage within him. He never talked about work and that made him distant at times. Things got worse after 9/11. He was never the same after the loss of so many of his brothers in blue.  After some urging for support, he seemed to have turned a corner right after I went to college and I was hopeful.  

The day of the funeral, the sky cried along with the city of New York. As we drove down the tree lined street to the church we could see the spectacle. The news cameras, mayor and governor came and many of my father’s brethren all stood for him. The church doorway was covered in the purple and black bunting as my mother and I walked together into the church. I immediately felt a shift. My world was forever changed as I followed the flag draped casket while my mother leaned on me. The physical death of my father was a loss that as a child of a cop, you know is a possibility. But the true loss didn’t come till later.

My reverie is interrupted by my running app congratulating me on reaching my goal. I slow down my stride and start walking to bring my heart rate down. Jay-Z is talking about his “99 problems” and I try to bring my mind back to reality as I head down the path to the Hamptons hideaway. My phone buzzes, and I see a text from Jonathan. 

Woke up to your scent on my pillows this morning 😉

I smile at his message, feeling warmth wash over me and a flutter in my belly. Glad that I left a little reminder of myself after such an incredible night. I text him back.

Looking forward to seeing you later. What’s the attire for the party?

I walk into the house just as Ashely is making her descent down into the kitchen.

“Morning… I see we got a run in.” She says sleepily.

“Morning girl. I needed to blow off some steam.” I say as I take my sneakers off, then walk into the kitchen, wash my hands and grab a bottle of water.

“Didn’t you blow off some steam last night with Jonathan?” She says in the singsong way she does when she’s excited, making me laugh.

Ashely grabs a mug, pops in a coffee pod and parks on the stool, motioning me to join her. I turn on the teakettle and sit next to her to begin my review of my activities.

I tell Ashely all about the day, with the tour of the winery, the slutty server, the fights and multiple sex sessions. As I’m recapping, I could feel the heat throughout my body when talking about how good the sex was. I have flashes of his lips, his hands, his body; causing the pulse starting to build in my core. I try my best to control my face and stick to the facts. Ashely sat quiet drinking her coffee as she listened and when I finished she had a pensive look on her face.

“What? I know you have something to say.” I mutter, with a hard eye roll.

 Ashely opens her mouth, pauses and closes it, then she let’s out a deep breath. “The whole thing sounds super intense. Hot, but intense. I’m surprised you stayed after the first blow up. When do you see him again?”

“Actually, he invited us to his friend’s husband’s birthday party tonight.”

Ashely shakes her head. “Us? I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“Girl, it’s fine. He doesn’t even like the guy. We are going as buffers.” 

“Who’s the party for?”

“I don’t know but his friend’s name is James.” I reply with a shrug as refill my tea.

“James Oliveria? He is like a big time art dealer.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I haven’t a clue. I only agreed to go because it was the last night before we headed back to the city and Jonathan asked.  You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, we can…”

“Are you kidding? We are sooo going! James’ parties are legendary. And it’s July 4th too! What’s the attire?” Ashely was almost squealing, she’s so excited.

This is definitely a first. I’m the one with an “in” at an exclusive party. I reach for my phone to see if Jonathan has texted me back with the answer.

The theme is The Great Gatsby, so formal. I’ll pick you up at 9.

“Jonathan says it’s a Great Gatsby theme, so formal. Which means I have nothing to wear.” I state with a pout.

In contrast, Ashely beams and leaps off the stool. “Go shower and get ready. We’ll head over to town, go shopping, and eat. I have a contact that owns a vintage high end consignment shop, we can pick something perfect for tonight.”