I Dare You Pt. 06

Mads and Regina left each other early the next morning, kissing at the door before getting in their respective vehicles and driving to their destinations. Mads lived relatively close, roughly five hours from her dad's which she pulled into at roughly ten in the morning.

Her house was filled with more family friends than family. No one from her mother's side was there, including her mother. She liked it that way. She didn't talk about her mother. Her dad's two brothers and sister was there, as well as two of her cousins who were both her age. The rest of the many people present were family friends, mostly people who worked with her father at the rail yard.

Maxwell Somerton wrapped his daughter in a warm hug when she arrived. He had the stereotypical look of working class man down to a tee. His idea of dressing up for church and Thanksgiving was a polo and khakis. Otherwise we wore jeans and flannel when he went to work as a train mechanic at the rail yard. A thick mustache and short hair, glasses from age, a portly pot belly, and working boots.

Mads didn't know her father until she was fourteen. Her mother sent her to live with him at very short notice and they had a lot of growing pains. Her mother generally spoiled her, so when she went to live with him, she was in conflict with his earn your place mentality immediately. Both of their tempers flared in her teen years, the only years he had with her before college.

"Want a car? Pay for half and learn to fix it before you get it. Insurance is on you too."

"Want a cellphone. Pay for the phone and I'll pay for the family plan, any excess of texts or calls is on you."

This was a huge shock for a girl so far raised under 'Mommy I want' actually getting things. 'Daddy I want' not so much.

Like a stern sitcom dad, he even had a catch phrase. 'So what?'

Whether or not it was always his saying or one he developed when he was her sole parent she didn't know, but she knew it drove her crazy growing up. Most of her trivial wants her mother would permit, were instead met with 'So what?'

"Madison doesn't want to do the dishes. So what?"

"Madison doesn't want to do her homework before television. So what?"

It wasn't until Mads was sixteen, having been living with him from two years she realized he was there for the important things unlike her mother. For her softball games she knew he'd be in the stands. He'd call a favor and work a double the next day if needed. He helped with school, and he was much smarter than he looked. His bookshelves were littered with history books, mostly military history, and philosophy. Who says a mechanic can't read Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Kant, Smith, and Rand?

Mads remembers one day that was a real turning point in their relationship. She got into a fight at school her sophomore year. A boy said something, alluding to her sexuality, and she punched him in the face. It was broken up and she was suspended, Maxwell having to pick her up from the principal's office.

At first he was fuming when he arrived. He had to get off work and lose a few hours, but the moment he saw her through the window of the hallway into the office, he knew anger wasn't a means of speaking with her. She wasn't angry, she was legitimately hurt by what the boy had said.

Maxwell walked into the office and spoke to the principal and was updated on what the boy said. The physical assault led to a suspension that was the compromise for the boy's parents not pressing charges, which Maxwell thought was preposterous for kids getting into a fight.

"Madison," Maxwell said, Mads not looking up. She knew she was about to get yelled at for not responding to him, but still didn't. Instead he crouched to her face, making her look up and into his eyes. "Let's get some food."

Maxwell took them to the local diner where they ordered breakfast for lunch, Mads mostly silent the entire time. Her responses were single words or small phrases.

"What did he say to you?" Maxwell said, Mads shrugging.

"Nothing," Mads said.

"Nothing. You punched someone in the face for nothing? That's not you. You're not above punching someone, but you typically need a reason," He said, Mads looking at her orange juice that she took a gulp from a second ago.

"He asked me out," Mads said, and Maxwell laughed a little.

"I love the idea of you punching boys who are too forward, but why do I feel you are telling me half of the story?" Maxwell asked.

"I said no, and he called me a dyke," Mads said.

"That's very rude, but why does make you so mad?"

"I don't want to talk about this," Mads said, looking away.

Maxwell reached his hand across the table and placed it on hers. She looked up at him and saw his smile.

"When you do. I'm right here."

A few months later Mads came into the living room from her bedroom upstairs, the last stair creaking like it always did. She hated that stair. Two years of sneak out attempts ruined by a faulty piece of lumber she was almost certain he never fixed on purpose. Maxwell lowered the book from his face, and turned to her, her arms in front of her, her left hand holding her right forearm.

"Dad," Mads started, getting his attention immediately. Very rarely had she called him dad instead of Maxwell. To her he was her dad by default.

"Yes?" Maxwell asked.

"I want to talk about it," Mads said, Maxwell placing the book on the coffee table in front of him and standing up from his chair.

"I'm listening," Maxwell said, standing across the living room from her.

"I punched the boy in the face, because I was worried people would realize he's right," Mads said, her eyes already getting watery. "When I told mom, she hit me, and she threw me out. Dropped me off on your doorstep."

"For better or worse, I'm not your mom kiddo," Maxwell said, Mads nodding in agreement. "I know we were basically strangers when you got here. I wanted to be a bigger part of your life, but your mother never let me. I wasn't ready for you, but I try my best, and I know I come up short often."

"You do better than you think," Mads said, willing to admit that. She didn't recall a single time her mother watched her play sports or helped with homework. When she failed to make the softball team her freshman year, her mother certainly wouldn't have helped her train in fielding and batting. Or just wanted to know her at all. Her mother just said yes to everything, so she wouldn't bother her.

"I want to actually say it. Out loud and have someone hear it," Mads said, crying now and looking at her feet. Last time this didn't go well. Maxwell closed the distance between the two of them and hugged her. She let her arms hang to her sides but cried into his shoulder.

"You can say it. You can tell me," Maxwell said. He already knew, but he also knew how therapeutic this would be for her just to say it.

"Dad...I'm a lesbian," Mads said and braced.

Maxwell pulled her back a little to see her face and smiled. The phrase that Mads had so far despised would be the greatest relief she ever heard in her life.

"So what?" Maxwell asked. Mads hugged him back and cried in relief. The most liberating moment of her life.

Mads always called him dad after that moment.

After she came out, it was truly like she became a different person. Her antagonism didn't immediately cease, but it certainly declined. She was willing to learn car maintenance, and even got a part time job at the local grocery store to start paying for it. He surprised her by paying for more than half of it. A year of helping train her in fielding and batting, even when they were angry at each other, come spring she made varsity as a sophomore, just when she was so certain she was going to quit.

For her junior and senior years, Mads would say her best friend was her dad. It took three years for them to get there. In retrospect Mads was ashamed of herself for how poorly she treated him. He just shrugged it off, said if she had kids she'd understand.

After dinner and dessert, Mads and her dad sat on the swing on the porch, her father's second favorite place to read. Both had a bottle of beer in their hands, they sat together with a small breeze swaying them back and forth.

"You mentioned you've been very unlike yourself," Maxwell said, Mads smiling with small laugh.

"That's putting it mildly," Mads said, trying to think of a way to phrase it. Mads felt comfortable telling her dad almost anything. Almost.

"What's his name?" Maxwell asked, Mads looking at him, not sure if he had a very good guess somehow or was joking. She believed it was the former because he did know her better than anyone.

"York," She said.

"Your roommate's boyfriend?" He asked.

"Technically he's also my roommate," Mads explained. "Circumstances led to things, and I explored my options a little."

"Protection?" Maxwell asked, Mads tilting her head. "Just because you're lesbian doesn't mean you can't get pregnant."

"I'm a biologist, but thanks for clearing that up," she said.

"No problem," Maxwell said, Mads hitting him with her elbow playfully. "Seriously."

"I'm safe...," She said, then realized not once did they start with a condom and she wasn't on any type of birth control. "..ish. I'll be careful."

"Other than that?"

"I swung right back and might have just started a relationship. Might of because it's still fresh, like very fresh, and we still need to establish some terms. I'm excited to start it," Mads said, Maxwell asking for her name. "Regina."

"Bring her by next time," Maxwell said, Mads saying she'd would if Regina was up for it.

-

Mads returned home after the holiday and was more excited to get back to the lab than she had ever been. Regina made her feel indescribably happy for several reasons. One, it was nice to finally have a woman with the same career goals, instead of the run of mill testing the water faux lesbians she usually sleeps with. Two, it confirmed what Regina had already told her; she could be sexual attracted to both, but emotionally attracted to one. York was a different kind of attraction than Regina was to her.

Regina wasn't back at the school yet, her classes not beginning for another day and her commitments at the lab were not as encompassing as Mads. The first day back was quiet, but she was too distracted to actually work and study because she was texting Regina the entire time. The very beginning was always the fun part of the relationship.

After the first day back, upon coming home she saw indications in the apartment that York was home as well, though he wasn't home at the moment. His door was closed when she left and it was now open, his bags were on the floor and he left a pan in the sink when he made himself some food before leaving.

Mads opened the fridge and saw he had made enough for her and left her a plate sealed in saran wrap. There was a sticky note on it, saying it was for her. Smiling, Mads microwaved the food and sat in the living room to eat and watch some television while she texted Regina who told her she was starting to drive back and would likely just stop directly at the apartment.

An hour after she finished eating York came home and sat on the chair next to the couch. Mads noticed he looked more sullen than normal. His posture was sunken in, making him look tired, but it didn't appear it was a physical fatigue. It was as if he had battled something in his mind all day and didn't like the result of the confrontation.

"You okay?" Mads asked after looking at him for nearly five minutes between text messages.

"You ever have a conversation with someone and realize, you don't know as much about someone as you thought?" York asked.

"You're being cryptic," Mads said.

"Sorry," York said and stood up to leave the room. "It's nothing."

"It is something. You're normally on an endorphin high this time of the day. You look pretty ragged," Mads said, York continuing to say it was nothing. "Is it about Heather?"

"Yeah," York finally admitted. "When she's done with the trip, I'm probably going to break up with her."

Mads placed the phone on the couch next to her, to devote her full attention to this. What could have possibly of happened?

"How do you in just a few weeks, go from about to propose, to breaking up?" Mads asked, York sighing and sitting down again. "What's up?"

"I just realized long term, we don't have the same plans. There are some things I want, that she doesn't. It's not a minor thing either."

"Sounds like you two have a few conversations you need to have. You two are both pretty bad at talking about things that this deal breaker only surfaces years later. You got a ring and everything, but have you ever actually talked with her about marriage? Just to see what her feelings are?"

"No," York said.

"I start dates that way, just to make sure neither of us are wasting our time. How does she feel about kids?" Mads asked.

"She never wants them," York said point blank. Mads knew instantly that was the deal breaker just by how he said it. This was the realization about Heather he just had. That alone was enough to spark this feeling in him.

"And you do," Mads said, York nodding in reply. Heather was full gear into her career, and even if she changed her mind it would be years from then. Mads had always been friends with Heather, but she knew she was also one of the most covertly selfish people she had ever met. York did most of the domestic cleaning in the apartment. She also knew York paid their half of the rent himself. Perhaps it was good luck and not bad luck that caused him to forget the ring when he drove her to the airport.

"Do you?" York asked.

"Do I what?" Mads asked, then realized the question of kids was direct to herself. "Yes. My job is the study of life, and my hobbies are knowing how things work. One day I want to bring a life of my own creation into being. I want to be a better mom than my mom was, not like she set the bar very high."

"Why don't you talk about your mom?" York asked. Mads heard her phone chime and ignored it.

"My mom spoiled me rotten, but not out of love. I mistook her desire to placate me with stuff so I'd stop annoying her, with actual love. When I came out of the closet at fourteen years old, she slapped me in the face before she said anything. I suddenly wasn't the daughter she wanted. My parents divorced when I was two, and she took me across the country and I never saw my dad until she drove back across the country just to drop me on his doorstep without another word. That's why I don't talk about my mom. Because I don't have a mother in any way that counts."

"You said you have a great dad though," York said.

"I do, and as I've gotten older and I understand the real world better, I love him more because I now see the things, he never took credit for. He did more for me within a month of me being there than my mom had done, and she had a fourteen year head start. His philosophy is perfect because it's so simple. When it comes to not wanting to do something you know you have to do, take that complaint, say 'so what', and just fucking do it."

Mads made so much more sense to York now. The ease of which she made hard decisions had always been one of his favorite traits she had. How she was always able to roll up her sleeves and get things done, physically and emotionally. Why she started her relationships with the conversations he's neglected to have for over two years.

"I want an honest answer," Mads said, ignoring her phone again. "Is any part of your decision to break up with Heather, because of me?"

York paused for a rather long time. It was horribly silent in the room for longer than either of them could tolerate. "York."

"Some," York said, trying hard to say none at all. 'I don't want to address my feelings.' He said to himself. 'So what' a little voice replied.

"I'll admit, I'm confused too. I have cognitive dissonance on us like you'd never believe," Mads said, rising from the couch and taking the few steps to his chair. She leaned down and kissed him, then looked at him as she leaned away.

"That made my stomach knot. I have a disquieting desire to do more than that. I can't deny my body wants you, but here," Mads said, taking his hand and placing it to her chest. "Nothing. As much as I like it, in here I'm not wired that way."

If only Heather was so transparent. This was her warning to him to not fall in love with her. York knew that was likely already too late. Was it truly something Heather said, or was it merely him having cold feet and looking for a reason to justify it?

The door knocked, and they both turned to look at the door. Mads was already standing so answered, and welcomed Regina back who waved at York who smiled and excused himself to his room.