Mom was curled up on the sofa with a blanket, and Heather was there providing assistance. We decided to just go ahead and hold Christmas early, as everyone was here unexpectedly and the timing seemed good. I asked Heather to brew us up a big pot of coffee (hers was nearly as good as Moms) and I filled them both in on my experiences with Madelyne since Thanksgiving, which to say the least provoked enormous amusement, mostly at my expense.
Mom, who is extremely tender hearted and can never bear to speak ill of anyone, just shake her head and muttered, "What a sad life that young lady must have. Are you sure you can't help her?"
I tried but couldn't think of any suitable reply so I just sadly shook my head.
The topic of pie was broached (there always seems to be a fresh pie at her house) and I offered to run to the store at the last minute before it closed early for Christmas Eve to get some ice cream to go with it. I joined all of the other emergency last second shoppers and we all had to wait for one tired and annoyed checkout clerk to pay for our purchases. This took nearly forever, and by the time I got back to Mom's house, I had another surprise. Madelyne's car was there in the driveway!
I was met at the door by Heather who held a finger to her mouth and told me to remain quiet and follow her. She took the ice cream into the kitchen and from there we could eavesdrop onto Madelyne's impassioned conversation with my Mom. Or rather, this was 'Maddie' who had paid us this visit.
She was in utter tears and was sobbing a genuine and heart felt apology for her intolerable rudeness at Thanksgiving. From there the conversation only got stranger for the next fifteen minutes or so that I listened. She apologized for nearly every action she had taken with me, and feared she had at last finally driven away 'the man she loved' because she had been incapable of showing me any genuine affection in any way. Now I was gone and unlikely to ever to return.
Her behavior to me had been 'unforgivable'; if she had 'screwed a hundred men right in front of him' she thought she could hardly have hurt me any more. She seem utterly inconsolable, but fortunately she was taking to the right woman, my Mom could handle 'inconsolable' every day of her life, before breakfast even, and be ready to whistle during her walk in the park afterwards.
I told Heather that I really should be going, and the conversation would be probably much smoother if I wasn't there at all. I snuck back to the front door and make my clean getaway, leaving Heather to present the ice cream and my own 'apologies'.
I went straight home, kept the lights off and the phone unplugged and went just about straight to bed and slept the night in peace.
**********
While having my breakfast Christmas morning, I thought I kept hearing rustling outside the house in front, and looking out the peephole I discovered the source. Madelyne had literally pitched a tent outside on my patio and had a sleeping bag on my doorstep. She also had a small camp stove for boiling water and cooking. She was camped out on my doorstep. Literally!
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I split the difference and bringing the kitchen phone into the bathroom I shut the door and called the only two people that I thought could resolve the situation.
Mom was no help at all. In fact part of the 'camping out' idea was hers. She even loaned Maddie all of the gear from dad's old camping stuff out in her garage.
"You're such a soft mush ball!" She lovingly told me. "I'm sure the two of you can work things out." Ok, so much for that idea. Now there was only Plan B, calling her father, which I then did. This seemed to cause him much amusement and he wasn't a whole lot of help either. The bastard still wanted me for his son-in-law even more now, if it was possible.
"How long are you going to let her camp outside in the cold and wait for you to come out and face her?" He asked, with more curiosity than anything else.
"The short answer is until Hell freezes over, but really I have no idea. At least another day or two, maybe even three or four. Weeks if necessary, until the urge to grab her by the throat and squeeze doesn't occupy my every single waking moment!"
He laughed and said he'd check back with me by mid-week if nothing else had changed.
I was now a prisoner in my own house, trapped by a maniacal stalker who would stop at nothing to get me within her batshit crazy clutches. Lucky me! I decided that I would not let her ruin my time trapped at home and I kept the lights turned on and either the stereo or TV on to cover the minor sounds she was making outside. She for her part refused to get my attention in any way; she didn't ever knock or ring the doorbell, or even call out to me, even once. At night she would sleep in her hopefully warm sleeping bag right on my doorstep. Thus went Sunday.
Monday morning I called into work to leave a message that I wouldn't be coming into work that day, or probably the next, but was told by my Admin Assistant that "Mr. Edwards had already called the President of my company asking to 'borrow me for a critical project for a week or two' and he had faxed an offer for our company to handle a couple of 'minor subcontracts' that would nearly double our potential revenue for next year. Accordingly, I was very much the 'fair haired boy' and could stay gone 'indefinitely' to 'service Mr. Edwards' needs'.
Actually I'm sure it was his daughter that I was supposed to be 'servicing', but that was a different matter that my Admin-Assistant didn't need to hear about. I was pretty sure now that she was one of the gals interviewed by the investigator who thought I was hunky. She had been recently giving me subtle hints at work that she wouldn't mind being serviced by me also. She was pretty but it's a golden rule of mine to never date co-workers, and my brain was still tied up with thoughts of Madelyne.
I made it through Tuesday ok, and somehow got through Wednesday as well; somehow. I was now very conflicted and really had no idea if I did really want to kiss her or kill her. I had to talk myself out of opening the door at least once an hour, but by that point I was pretty 'buggy' from being inside for four straight days and I was constantly now talking to myself. By Thursday morning I was not only talking to myself but I was answering myself back.
I resolved that when I started to argue with myself and use two different voices while doing so, that I would admit defeat and open the door and face her.
At about 10 a.m. the phone rang and it was Madelyne's dad again.
