Post by Amélie Grey on Feb 12, 2007 14:02:54 GMT -5
Amélie woke from a fitful sleep to the sound of her cell ringing, the ringtone MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday.
You've got this new head filled up with smoke, I've got my veins all tangled close to the jukebox bars you frequent, the safest place to hide...
Groggily she picked it up from her bedside table and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hey Amé," Madeline said.
"Oh, hi Maddie," Amélie said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, but how are you?" she asked worriedly.
This wasn't a normal "how are you?", this was a "how are you?"
After all, it was ten years today.
"I'm... I'm alright, Maddie," she sighed. "I had a few nightmares and I remembered some things last night and I was sick, but other than that I'm okay. How's Mama?"
"She seems... normal, actually. I would have thought she'd have been a complete wreck, but she's... actually in a pretty good mood."
"Is she really in a good mood, or is she hiding-"
"No, she's in a good mood," Madeline said. Madeline was a clinical psychologist - Dr. Bonnét. She could tell exactly when people were lying, or what mood they were in.
Amélie was surprised. "Oh."
"Maybe she's finally getting over it," Madeline said carefully. "I don't know if she wants you to know yet, but..."
Amélie suddenly became suspicious. "What Maddie? Spit it out."
"She's got a date."
Amélie's jaw dropped. "Honestly?" she breathed.
"Don't say I told you," Madeline said anxiously. "It's only their first date."
"I won't," Amélie promised, a smile appearing on her lips. "Who is it?"
Amélie could sense Madeline smiling. "His name is Michel, he's 45, a year older than her, and he's in her-"
"Book club," Amélie finished. "Yes, I remember her telling me about him. What was it she said, 'nice green eyes'?"
"Yes that's him," Madeline said. "I met him, briefly. He seems nice."
"He better be," Amélie said threateningly. "He's going on a date with my mother, he had better be good enough for her."
"That's what she said about Lucas," Madeline laughed. "Anyway, we're off the point. How are you feeling?"
"I told you, I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
Amélie laughed wryly. "I hate talking to psychologists."
"So how are you feeling?"
Amélie arranged her quilt over her legs. "Tired. Cold. Sick. And bitter. It's been ten years Maddie."
Madeline clucked her tongue sympathetically. "It's a long time."
"I know," Amélie said. "And I still don't get it. Who was the woman? Is he still with her? Why did he do that?"
"It wasn't your fault," Madeline said automatically. "Sorry, that's what I used to tell you. You must know that by now."
"I do," Amélie said darkly. "His beind a complete bastard has nothing to do with me."
Madeline sighed. "Oh Amé, you are bitter, aren't you?"
"No, I'm just... angry. I should get over it, especially if Mama is, but... I can't," she said simply. "How could he bugger off for ten years with no contact? The last time he saw me, I was frickin fourteen - now I'm a goddamn surgical intern, and he doesn't know? He's my dad, but he's not. Do you know if he's still in Paris?"
"I don't know," Madeline said honestly. "I have really no idea. Paris is a big city, it wouldn't surprise me if we just haven't ran into him. Or maybe he moved out to Provence, he always talked about doing that."
"Hmm," Amélie said. "To be quite honest, I don't really care."
"You do," Madeline corrected.
Amélie groaned. "Oh, I'm sorry Maddie, I just hate this. He left her, he left me two days before Valentine's day. Two days! That's just ... I don't even have a word for it."
"Mais, Amé, c'est la vie," Madeline said, switching from English to French, then back. "You just have to learn to accept it. You're an adult now."
"Maddie, you saw what I was like after he left." True. Madeline was the one who found out about Amélie's self-harm and counselled her - at the time she was training at university.
"I know Amé, but what's the point in being angry?"
"I would love not to be angry," Amélie snapped. "Do you think I enjoy it?"
"I didn't say that," Madeline said, graciously and calmly. "Calm down sweetie."
Amélie took a deep breath. "Sorry."
"No need," she said graciously. "Let's change the subject, shall we?"
Amélie smiled. "Please, thanks. How's your love life going?"
Madeline laughed. "I'll tell you when I arrive in four days. I can't wait."
"Me either," Amélie grinned. "Seven months is too long."
"Way too long," she agreed. "Listen honey, I gotta go, I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Okay, oueur salut à," Amélie said, ringing off.
Her gaze flicked to the picture of her with her parents on her wall, and felt the old resentment. Why did you leave her, why did you leave me? What did I do wrong?
You've got this new head filled up with smoke, I've got my veins all tangled close to the jukebox bars you frequent, the safest place to hide...
Groggily she picked it up from her bedside table and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hey Amé," Madeline said.
"Oh, hi Maddie," Amélie said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, but how are you?" she asked worriedly.
This wasn't a normal "how are you?", this was a "how are you?"
After all, it was ten years today.
"I'm... I'm alright, Maddie," she sighed. "I had a few nightmares and I remembered some things last night and I was sick, but other than that I'm okay. How's Mama?"
"She seems... normal, actually. I would have thought she'd have been a complete wreck, but she's... actually in a pretty good mood."
"Is she really in a good mood, or is she hiding-"
"No, she's in a good mood," Madeline said. Madeline was a clinical psychologist - Dr. Bonnét. She could tell exactly when people were lying, or what mood they were in.
Amélie was surprised. "Oh."
"Maybe she's finally getting over it," Madeline said carefully. "I don't know if she wants you to know yet, but..."
Amélie suddenly became suspicious. "What Maddie? Spit it out."
"She's got a date."
Amélie's jaw dropped. "Honestly?" she breathed.
"Don't say I told you," Madeline said anxiously. "It's only their first date."
"I won't," Amélie promised, a smile appearing on her lips. "Who is it?"
Amélie could sense Madeline smiling. "His name is Michel, he's 45, a year older than her, and he's in her-"
"Book club," Amélie finished. "Yes, I remember her telling me about him. What was it she said, 'nice green eyes'?"
"Yes that's him," Madeline said. "I met him, briefly. He seems nice."
"He better be," Amélie said threateningly. "He's going on a date with my mother, he had better be good enough for her."
"That's what she said about Lucas," Madeline laughed. "Anyway, we're off the point. How are you feeling?"
"I told you, I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
Amélie laughed wryly. "I hate talking to psychologists."
"So how are you feeling?"
Amélie arranged her quilt over her legs. "Tired. Cold. Sick. And bitter. It's been ten years Maddie."
Madeline clucked her tongue sympathetically. "It's a long time."
"I know," Amélie said. "And I still don't get it. Who was the woman? Is he still with her? Why did he do that?"
"It wasn't your fault," Madeline said automatically. "Sorry, that's what I used to tell you. You must know that by now."
"I do," Amélie said darkly. "His beind a complete bastard has nothing to do with me."
Madeline sighed. "Oh Amé, you are bitter, aren't you?"
"No, I'm just... angry. I should get over it, especially if Mama is, but... I can't," she said simply. "How could he bugger off for ten years with no contact? The last time he saw me, I was frickin fourteen - now I'm a goddamn surgical intern, and he doesn't know? He's my dad, but he's not. Do you know if he's still in Paris?"
"I don't know," Madeline said honestly. "I have really no idea. Paris is a big city, it wouldn't surprise me if we just haven't ran into him. Or maybe he moved out to Provence, he always talked about doing that."
"Hmm," Amélie said. "To be quite honest, I don't really care."
"You do," Madeline corrected.
Amélie groaned. "Oh, I'm sorry Maddie, I just hate this. He left her, he left me two days before Valentine's day. Two days! That's just ... I don't even have a word for it."
"Mais, Amé, c'est la vie," Madeline said, switching from English to French, then back. "You just have to learn to accept it. You're an adult now."
"Maddie, you saw what I was like after he left." True. Madeline was the one who found out about Amélie's self-harm and counselled her - at the time she was training at university.
"I know Amé, but what's the point in being angry?"
"I would love not to be angry," Amélie snapped. "Do you think I enjoy it?"
"I didn't say that," Madeline said, graciously and calmly. "Calm down sweetie."
Amélie took a deep breath. "Sorry."
"No need," she said graciously. "Let's change the subject, shall we?"
Amélie smiled. "Please, thanks. How's your love life going?"
Madeline laughed. "I'll tell you when I arrive in four days. I can't wait."
"Me either," Amélie grinned. "Seven months is too long."
"Way too long," she agreed. "Listen honey, I gotta go, I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Okay, oueur salut à," Amélie said, ringing off.
Her gaze flicked to the picture of her with her parents on her wall, and felt the old resentment. Why did you leave her, why did you leave me? What did I do wrong?
