My Refuge

Everwood fanfiction by LeeT911  (LeeT911@hotmail.com)

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"You can't fire her.  She's my best friend.  She's the only one who plays with me.  If you fire her, I'm not speaking to either of you again... ever.  I'm not thirsty anymore."

"You think she's bluffing?"

"I don't know.  I don't want to find out."

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Maybe I hadn't really meant it when I said it, but I'm glad it worked.  If it hadn't, I probably would have cried for a couple days, and I would have carried out my threat for a week or so, but in the end, I would've never been able to stick to it.  It's not the kind of thing a nine-year old can really follow through on.

At the time, I guess I didn't know why I didn't want her to leave.  I really did want someone who would play with me, someone who would read books to me, someone who wasn't Ephram or Dad.  I liked them fine, and I know they both tried very hard to make things easy for me, but they just couldn't do it right.  No matter how hard they tried, neither of them could give me what I wanted.

I wanted Mom back.  It wasn't going to happen, but that didn't stop me.  By the time you're in fourth grade, you know that death is a permanent thing.  You know that all those goldfish you flushed down the toilet don't really go to a better place.  And besides, Dad was a doctor, and he gave me the whole speech after Mom died, but still...  Somewhere, in my foolish little mind, I kept hoping that Mom would come back, and we would move back to New York, and everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be.

And then, Madison came.  She treated me like Mom used to.  She made dinner for me.  She had a snack waiting for me when came home from school.  She listened when I talked, and she was always interested in whatever I was doing.  She wanted me to have fun, and she wanted to have fun with me at the same time.

Maybe I'm getting it all wrong.  Maybe what I think Mom was like isn't really how she was.  She died a long time ago.  I'm not even sure what I remember anymore.  All I know, is that when Ephram stopped paying attention to me, Madison was there.

*  *  *

The young girl shifts in her chair, her teeth coming out to pull at her lower lip as her concentration peaks.  The pencil gripped tightly in her small hand scrawls its way stridently across the page of her notebook.  She looks up at the wall for an instant, her mind far away, plumbing the mysteries of the universe.

Unconsciously, her free hand comes up, tucks a strand of brown hair behind her ear.  In a flash of inspiration, the answer comes to her, lighting the void momentarily.  She smiles to herself inwardly, carefully marking down the answer.

"What are you doing?"  A familiar voice calls from her door.

Madison is there, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest and a faint smile touching her lips.

"Math homework."  Delia replies, her voice dropping off at the end to show her disappointment.

"How's it coming?"

"What's four-hundred-ninety-five divided by fifteen?"

The blonde does a quick calculation in her head as she settles herself on the edge of the bed.  "Thirty-three."

"Perfect."  Smile.

Madison beams back at her, reaches out to take the notebook.  She flips through it, quickly checking the questions Delia's answered.  "You're right.  All done then.  Do you have anything else to do?"

"No, I finished all my homework.  Can we read a book?"  Big, hopeful eyes.

"Sure, but I want to ask you something first."

Although her babysitter is still smiling, Delia can sense the seriousness in the tone.  She nods submissively, suddenly afraid.

"Did you make your dad promise not to fire me?"

"Maybe."  She mumbles, looking down towards her swinging feet.

"I'm asking because I wasn't too sure if I would still have this job today.  When I got here, your brother wasn't particularly nice to me.  But then again, he never is.  He did, however, mention that the only reason I'm still here is because of you."

"They wanted to fire you."  Delia's voice sounds so very small.

"So what did you do?"

"I told them if they did, I would never speak to them again."  Still refusing to make eye contact.

"You know, for a nine year-old, you're very manipulative."

"What does 'manipulative' mean?"  Finally, she looks up.

"Manipulating is when you make someone do something by taking advantage of them."

"Is that bad?"

"Usually."

The little girl looks away again, embarrassed.  She feels remorseful, but she doesn't know why.  The words catch in her throat.  "I...  I didn't want them.. to fire you."

"There are other babysitters."

"They won't be like you."

"No, they won't.  But that doesn't make them bad, Delia.  Maybe you'll make friends with someone else."

"I don't want someone else."  Her voice reaches a whining, almost frantic, note.  She turns away this time, running the back of her hand over her eyes.

Madison exhales slowly, deliberately calming herself down. "It's okay, I'm still here."  Then, unsure of what to do, she hugged the other girl.

*  *  *

Madison wasn't Mom.  She could never be.  Even then, I knew that.  She was just the babysitter, but she meant so much to me.

Maybe it's wrong to compare her to Mom.  Maybe she never truly cared for me that much, and she really did do it only for the money, but none of that matters now.  What matters is that I had someone when Mom wasn't there anymore.  I had someone when Dad was busy saving lives and Ephram was crying his eyes out over Amy.  She was more than just my babysitter.  I've had other babysitters.  They were never quite the same.  They were never quite as good.  For a little while, to me at least, Madison was a part of my family.

She's still there, back in Everwood, living the small-town life that doesn't suit her, yet she manages to embrace it just the same.  I write her sometimes, just to see how things are back home.  Because that's how I think of it now.  Home.  At some point, New York stopped being the place I wanted to go back to.

There were a lot things that made me change, a lot of people that made Everwood worth going back to.  Nina, Bright, Brittany, Edna, Irv, the list goes on.  But Madison was the one who made Everwood home to me.  She was the one who sat and watched the hockey game with me even though she hated the sport.  She was the one who helped me pick out an outfit for my first school dance.  She was the one who walked me through all the rough spots of adolescence.

Madison wasn't Mom, but she was as close as I was going to get.

*  *  *

END