doubts
A gadge drabble to hopefully fit the prompt from @finnickodone and @nursekelly0429
Madge glared at her phone, her jaw tight, as the message glowed on her screen. mtg Thom at 16 St Tavrn. Home late.
It was the third night this week. The third time he’d made plans and gone out without even asking her. Yesterday he’d belatedly invited her to come, although it was clear that he expected her not to, and frankly she hadn’t minded the excuse to binge-watch Gilmore Girls and eat ice cream. But as much as she enjoyed her guilty indulgences, she felt like she’d barely seen Gale lately. Scowling she typed a quick reply, hitting send without pause. ok
Tossing her phone onto the couch, she got up, headed to the kitchen and filled a mug with water, heating it in the microwave until the water steamed and mixing herself a hot cocoa. She wrapped her hands around the mug, warmth leaching from the ceramic into her cold fingers, and settled back onto one end of the couch, next to a ball of wiry fur – Gale’s dog Sam. Even as Sam nosed into her side, his long tail thumping quietly, she could feel the emptiness of the apartment, and cocooned herself in a blanket. Everything she needed was in reach, the remotes laid out on the coffee table in front of her, her laptop stashed on the floor next to the couch, and most importantly, the book Delly had lent her, a popular post-apocalyptic tale that everyone had read months ago when she was busy with school. Her phone lit up with another text message. xxx
She dismissed the message, switching her phone to silent and turning her attention back to the book. Soon Madge was lost again in the story, the dregs of her cocoa going cold. It was an engrossing and quick read, keeping her up past her usual bedtime. It was almost 1 am when she pulled herself off the couch, ignoring Sam’s brief whine, and went to bed. Sam stayed on the couch, the apartment dark and still. She hadn’t been in bed long when she heard his key in the door, the quiet noises of the door opening and closing as he let himself in. She turned toward the wall, feigning sleep until she drifted off.
The weekend somehow flew past without ever feeling like a break. There was laundry and bills and taking Sam to the park and in the free hours Madge finished her book. When Gale asked what she wanted to do that night, she listed off a few of the usual options – and somehow while she filled a toy for Sam with peanut butter, Gale was sucked into something on his phone. Madge gave up waiting for him, and logged onto her laptop, skimming through facebook and tumblr, clicking on interesting-sounding links and reading them. Soon they were both pre-occupied, and the rest of the night seemed to fast forward with nothing to show for it. On Sunday Gale went to the church where he volunteered while Madge had brunch with her parents and picked up groceries for the week. Gale ate anything, so it made sense for her to do it, but it still felt like a burden. Frustration was followed by guilt, knowing he was helping with a kids program at the church. Sunday night Madge and Gale crashed on the couch, watching episodes of Doctor Who until Madge felt herself falling asleep and dragged herself to bed. Gale gave her a quick kiss goodnight and switched to old episodes of MASH.
Routine steered her through the week. Cold morning jogs taking Sam through the frost-bitten gardens of the neighborhood park, Sam straining to chase after the flocks of pigeons and starlings. Then work, where patients and paperwork filled her days. At home she felt like she was always making dinner or doing dishes or sweeping up piles of dog hair and dust bunnies, chores that punctuated hours of staring at screens, email and facebook and reality tv. On Monday, Gale brought home pizza and they ate distractedly, pushing Sam away from their plates and both catching up on news on their phones. Gale had forwarded her an article from his mom on theology in practice. While they read, he showed her the latest comedy video from a hometown guy who’d gone viral with a series of mini-episodes published on the web. She laughed a little, but she knew it was funnier to him – jokes based on the experiences he’d grown up with, even after years together were still somewhat foreign to her.
Tuesday Gale was working late, some deadline or another. Wednesday was dinner with Delly, swapping books and listening to Delly’s matter-of-fact explanations of her work in the university lab, testing a protocol that could revolutionize depression diagnoses, before laughing through her latest dating-fail stories and the tiniest details of her interactions with the biology instructor in the office down the hall, Thresh. Madge smiling sympathetically, wondering how her friend’s affections would ever be noticed. She still had trouble picturing Thresh standing up in front of a roomful of students to give a lecture – Delly had pointed him out during the departmental open house that Madge had attended with her, and he was more introverted even than Madge was. Madge bit her tongue and didn’t bring up Gale’s inattention, how it felt like they barely saw each other anymore. She couldn’t complain to Delly about that. On her way home from dinner, Madge sighed at a message on her phone from Gale that he was going out with coworkers – blowing off steam after a late night in the office. He was inviting her to meet up with them … but it was the wrong direction, further from home, and she’d had a long day. She went home instead. She saw him in the morning, a quick peck as she headed out the door, a “see you tonight.”
He was, in fact, home when she walked in that night, crouched over her laptop and cursing under his breath; Madge recognized that he’d brought work home and retreated to the bedroom to escape into a new book. She resurfaced in the kitchen to heat up some dinner. He was still engrossed in work, so she heated some for him as well, accepted his thanks, and left her dishes in the sink. Friday morning the dishes were done, so Gale must have cleaned them. She was eating breakfast, Sam whining at her feet, when Gale stumbled into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. “Sorry I’m working so much,” he said, his voice low and neutral and still tired.
The corner of Madge’s mouth twisted briefly and she shrugged. “It’s fine.” “It’s this deadline,” he continued. “We only have a week left on the contract. And Katnip called, she wants to do something tonight.”
Madge closed her eyes, suppressing her irritation. She loved Katniss, but really? Again? Madge sighed and opened her eyes, asking “is she okay?”
“I don’t know, I guess her mom’s been having some issues … anyway I said we could meet her around 7.”
Madge shook her head. “You go.” Katniss was awkward enough about feelings as it was. Since Madge’s mom had passed away last year, Katniss had been … well, weird about talking with her about her own family issues. “She needs to talk, and I’d just get in the way.”
“You sure?” Gale asked, and when she looked up she saw a flicker of concern in his eye. She nodded, smiling a superficial smile, looking matter of fact. No big deal, she told herself. It’s fine.
But all day she wondered about it. She felt defeated. She and Gale … it had been great in the beginning, but now, she felt so alone sometimes. Maybe they were too different – he was a night owl, the life of the party, always checking out new bars and beers around town. She hated the bar scene, couldn’t stand the drinking. She couldn’t help but wonder who there was driving home that night, whose car might veer off the road. Her aunt had died in a drunk driving accident. Her mom had never been the same. Gale was responsible, he always took the bus or paid for a cab even, and as far as she knew, his friends were too. But the whole idea of going out and drinking all night … it just wasn’t for her. And she was happy at home, curled up with a book, most of the time. She just didn’t expect to feel so lonely, being in a relationship with a great guy. He worked hard, he volunteered, he was kind to his friends … she hated herself for feeling angry at him.
On her way out of work, she sent Gale a quick text, saying she hoped Katniss was okay & they had a good time. She ended her message xxx and hit send. Thanks. love u, he replied.
She heated up some frozen broccoli and made a sandwich for dinner, grabbed an apple and a box of cookies. By 7 that night she was in her usual spot, curled up on the couch, Sam stretched out next to her, belly in the air and wet nose pressed against an armrest.
She was engrossed in the Gilmore Girls, watching Lorelei and Luke cross wits over coffee when Sam’s head raised off the couch and looked toward the hall and drawing Madge’s attention. She thought she heard a noise like the door closing, and then Gale appeared at the edge of the room, leaning against the door jamb.
Madge smiled and let out her breath, surprised. “What are you doing here?” She looked at the clock – it wasn’t even 8 yet – and paused the show. “Why aren’t you at dinner?”
“Plans changed. We met earlier,” he shrugged and smiled self-consciously as he made his way over to the couch, scratching Sam’s head which started Sam’s tail wagging in full force, thwacking against Madge’s thigh.
“Hey!” Madge protested. “Cut it out, Sam.” Madge pushed the dog away from her with a short laugh. Turning back to Gale she asked, “so what happened?”
“Nothing really, she’s fine. They adjusted her mom’s medication because of a kidney problem – nothing serious, but it’s been a little rough and Katniss feels like she has to take care of her mom and Prim.”
“Oh. That sucks. So, why are you home so early?”
“I missed you,” he answered, his voice softening. “We’ve barely seen each other, with my stupid work and all.” With a gentle tug from Gale, Sam stepped off the couch and allowed Gale to fold himself into the empty space, absently petting Sam, who continued to wag his tail and sniff at Gale’s pants and shoes, before Gale turned to Madge and pushed his hand into her hair, dragging it away from her face.
She grinned, reaching for him to pull his face to hers. Their lips joined softly, moving through familiar rhythms to deepen the kiss. His body leaned into her, an unthinking response to her hands moving across his shirt, feeling the familiar musculature of his back. Abruptly, their focus was broken as Sam leaped up on the couch and pushed his nose between Gale and the back of the couch, as if trying to join in the fun.
They broke apart, both grinning and moving to push Sam off, Gale loudly cursing the rascally mutt.
“He missed you,” Madge told him, laughing. “I’m just not the same.”
“He’s gonna have to wait,” Gale said. He held his hand out and when she took it, pulled her up off the couch. He kissed her again, holding her against him between the couch and the coffee table, Sam’s whines at their knees. After a long moment, she pulled away.
“I love you,” she murmured.
“I love you more,” he answered with a crooked smile. The look in his eyes stole her breath away, the fervent sincerity.
The corners of her mouth turned up and holding his hand, she stepped back toward the hallway and the bedroom. “Show me,” she said, a playful dare in her voice. She needed his touch, and to touch him, to remind her why they were right for each other, despite how different they were. He followed, needing the same.
