Everything We Didn't Say

TW: Death

"What if one day, you woke up, and you found out that you could spend one last day with a deceased loved one- what would you do?" Cassandra Woodward, my best friend, said, looking at me with a solemn look.

"Uh, well, considering that I'd do literally anything with Mom, even if it were only one day, I don't know what I'd do. Probably everything I forgot. I would say everything we didn't say, you know?" I said, spinning the fidget ring that I had on my thumb. It had a sun on it, for Mom. Her name was Eliana, meaning 'daughter of the sun'. That should've been my name, but I was given the name Madeline. Mom was always my sun, truly. My light in the darkness; my everything.

"Madeline, you did everything right. You couldn't prevent what happened." Cassandra said, grabbing hold of my hand. Her auburn hair was glowing in the sunlight that was beaming into my room from the circular window.

What she didn't know is that I could've prevented it. I was the one who wanted coffee, and we had just run out at home. I was the one who rode in the car with Mom. I was the one who distracted her for just a second with a new song I liked that had come on the radio. I was the one who told her too late that the semi was coming fast at us. The force killed her instantly. The semi driver was buzzed, and he had come from my dad's bar. Everyday, I wish that the semi had hit my side, or not hit us at all. Maybe Mom would still be here.

"Yeah, I could have. God, you sound like my therapist," I said, smiling as best as I could, faking a little giggle. "Maddie, what movie do you wanna watch?" Cassandra said, taking her hand from mine and grabbing the remote. Aunt Penelope (I know, right?) had moved the TV into my room after Mom died. I don't know why, maybe it was because I wouldn't leave my room for a while and she thought that I needed more entertainment besides doom-scrolling on Tik Tok and Pinterest. "I know what's on those apps," she'd said, "It's a bunch of depressing stuff. TV isn't depressing."

It didn't matter anyway.

"Hmm... I dunno. What genre are you feeling? I'm kinda feeling cheesy romance, but I just need that in my life right now. We can do whatever you want, Cassandra." I said, my attention fixated on my ring.

"Yeah, we can def do some cheesy romance. Are you feeling The Kissing Booth or Twilight?"

"Oh, both are great, but I'm not feeling very romantasy right now. So, The Kissing Booth it is."

"Great choice, Maddie."

We settled down on my floor-with blankets, of course- and got the movie started. Its cheesiness distracted me from all of the other weight in my life. It had just been a month since Mom's funeral and stuff. But the cloud of guilt still followed me everywhere I went.

Eventually, the movie ended, and Cassandra had to go home. She lived about a block down from my house, and we visited each other regularly, despite seeing each other every weekday anyway for school.

Most of the time, I'm home alone. Usually, one would think that that's really good. Like, I can throw all the parties I want, and since my house is so big- what Aunt Penelope calls a 'McMansion'- everybody can get a room if they need one and there's room for about three kegs at least. But I don't throw parties. I threw one about five months ago, when Mom was on a work trip and Dad was just... away. Anyway, it went absolutely terrible. I set up a keg and people didn't even bother to go outside to puke or smoke. I couldn't get the smell out for weeks.

So yeah, I'm not that much of a party-thrower. That doesn't mean I'm not mildly popular, but the constant questions and constant made-up excuses have died down after Mom died. There's no more "Madeline, why don't you host a little party- I can handle the invites" with a comeback of "ah, no, sorry, my parents are home this weekend" or something else that pops into my mind. The sad thing is, I've gotten really, really good at lying out of context. I'll lie about the littlest things because why not?

But the truth is, I get lonely sometimes. Actually, a lot of times. At least when Cassandra's not here. It's just me and this big house. It feels so empty, even when Dad's home (which is about five times a year) or when Aunt Penelope or Cassandra is here. It just feels empty. It never felt empty when Mom was here. Even if it was just me and her. She just had that sort of presence to her.

I grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet and flopped down on my couch in the living room, staring at the ceiling while I chewed on the bar. That bar would probably last me until dinner, which was in exactly one hour. You see, I had a schedule since it was just me.

Madeline Simmons' Schedule!

8 A.M.- wake up. (6 A.M. if school day)

8:30 A.M.- eat breakfast (6:30 A.M. if it's a school day)

8:45 A.M.- get ready for the day (earlier if school day)

9:15 A.M.- work out in the gym (school starts if school day)

9:50 A.M.- read/relax (school if school day)

10:30 A.M.- take a walk (school if school day)

10:45 A.M.- invite Cassandra over (optional) (school)

11:45 A.M.- eat lunch w/ or w/o Cassandra (school- pack lunch)

12:15 P.M.- work out again (focus on core) (school)

12:35 P.M.- read/relax (school)

1 P.M.- free-time (play on phone; watch movie/show) (school)

2 P.M.- call someone (usually aunt or Grandma) (school)

2:30 P.M.- invite Cassandra over (optional) (school)

4:15 P.M.- take a walk (school lets out)

4:30 P.M.- go downtown and visit shops (optional)

5:15 P.M.- grab light snack

5:25 P.M.- free-time (watch show/movie, play on phone)

6:15 P.M.- cook dinner; watch 6 o'clock news

6:30 P.M.- eat dinner; watch NBC Nightly News

7:00 P.M.- watch Wheel of Fortune & clean up dinner

7:30 P.M.- watch Jeopardy! & study for any tests/quizzes

8:00 P.M.- do homework (if provided) & clean up any messes

8:25 P.M.- get ready for bed (shower, pajamas on, skincare)

9:00 P.M.- watch episode of show or half of movie before bed

9:45 P.M.- read until tired

So yeah, that's my day. Pretty monotonous, but I'm okay with it.

After I finished my granola bar, I went up to Mom's room. It had become a like, sort of ritual that happened since Mom wasn't there. That's where I would go for my free-time. When I went up to Mom's room, the bed was made. That's weird. I could've sworn I left it unmade from when I'd slept in it a couple weeks ago. Huh.

"Madeline! Oh how I've missed you!" Something cried. My body froze, and I could feel a sweat dripping down my brow. I was the only one in the house, right? I'd watched enough horror movies to know not to say hello. I crept near the master bathroom, where I thought the sound was coming from, and then found a figure. Mom.

"Madeline Simmons! Come hug your mama!" Mom said. My head was spinning in all different directions. This is it, I thought, I've finally gone mad. "Are you real?" I asked, extending my ice-cold hand. She reached back and I felt her hand. I shivered; it was colder than mine. Suddenly, the translucence that had just surrounded her fell, and I was left with the mother I always knew. I could feel a hot tear sliding down my cheek- Mom was actually there.

I entombed her in a hug and really didn't want to let go.

"Mom, how is this happening? How... How is this real?" I said, holding onto her arms that weren't crushed. She smiled warmly, and my legs went like jelly. That was the smile. Oh, how I loved that smile.

Loved.

I have to use past-tense. But... Do I have to now? Mom's here; Right?

"Madeline, we need to do everything today! I am dying up there, honestly. Church said it would have everything you'd ever want, but let's be honest- it didn't have you, hon. Anyway, I am yearning for a good cup of coffee- all black, of course- and a good croissant from Madame Penny's, and a look at my old hometown. And a hug." Mom said, hugging me tightly.

"We can do everything you want and more," I said.

"Alright, then. First stop: Car!" She said. I smiled and actually meant it this time.

When we arrived in the garage, I could hear Mom almost gasping. After mine was ruined in the crash, Dad got me a new one. That was the main reason for one of his five yearly visits. Anyway, it was a nice car. It was an SUV, a Toyota. Mom slid her hand along the sides, and then I unlocked it, hopping into the driver's seat. Mom sat in the passenger seat.

"Where to first?" I said, and Mom sighed, taking in the moment.

"Books & Coffee On Main. My favorite. Also, I want a book. I still have money, apparently, so all of today is on me, Madeline." She said.

"Oh, uh, are you sure? I-I could get it,"

"No, no, no, seriously. If you don't let me get this for you, I'll fly back up there."

I sat in silence as we drove down the driveway.

"Sorry, bad joke." She said, stroking my free hand. I was extra careful on the road; it was my first time driving since Mom. She hummed a familiar tune as we drove to Books & Coffee On Main. I recognized it as a nursery rhyme that Mom sang to me when I was a baby, and she still sang it to me even when I was old. It was like, comforting to me, I guess. It was Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Mom would sing it to me every night, along with the doxology and some other kid bedtime songs. But when I entered middle school, I felt like I didn't want Mom to sing to me anymore. Too childish, I thought, I'm not a baby anymore. But eventually, I realized that in that period, I needed the song more than anything.

Now, I wanted more than anything to hear her sing; to hear her just speak in general, although she'd technically already done that.

"Mom?" I asked as we pulled into the parking lot.

"Yeah, sweets?" She said, unbuckling but turning towards me.

"Can- can you actually sing it? I know it's like, weird, but I want to hear you sing."

"Oh, of course I can sing it. And no, it's not weird. Society has just set an age limit on everything these days."

"Oh. Well, I'm ready whenever you are."

"Okay," she said, "Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are." Her voice was exactly the same as how I remembered. I'd almost forgotten what it sounded like, which scared me. Its notes dripped like syrup onto pancakes, and her voice had a sound to it that was like no other. Well, Mom was Mom. Like no other.

We got out of the car and went into the store, grabbing a pure black coffee for Mom and a mocha latte for me. Mom sipped the piping hot coffee like it was the last form of hydration in the world. I laughed as she gulped down the coffee. "Mom, what did they give you up there? Tea? Also, didn't they always say it was supposed to have everything your heart desired?" I asked Mom as she slurped down the drink, oblivious to table manners. Well, do table manners really still count when you're dead?

Mom placed down her coffee cup and swallowed hard before bursting out laughing. And not a regular, timid giggle, but a full-on, snort-causing-loud-burping-belly-ass laugh. And it was hilarious. The few other customers looked at us nervously, probably thinking Mom was tipsy.

"M-Madeline, oh my Lord, you never fail to make me laugh. Even if it is in the worst possible public spaces, love." Mom said, hiccuping as her laugh died down. The barista at the counter was trying not to laugh herself while Mom attempted to calm down.

After the whole laughing fiasco, Mom paid and told me to pick out any five books I wanted.

"Five? Mom, no!" I'd protested, but Mom insisted that I get the books. She told me that she had seen me, reading all alone in my bedroom, and usually reading some of the same books over and over again. "It's time you get some new ones," She said. I gave in and picked out five books that I had seen online and wanted anyway.

The next stop was Madame Penny's for a quick croissant and then we would cruise along the town's edges, letting Mom see the world I caused her to miss out on.

When we got home from our adventure, I sighed.

"What's wrong, Maddie?" Mom said, stroking my too-long bangs out of my face.

"Nothing, it's just... Well, you. This is a lot. And I keep feeling like I need to do something; that I need to say something. Like, to make it all right, you know? Because I still feel like I caused you to die and that today, if today's even happening, if I'm not dreaming, we would do everything I forgot to do; to say everything that we didn't get to say, you know?" I said, wiping away a sneaky tear.

Mom leaned over and hugged me tightly. It pulled me down from the heights I was flying away to.

"Madeline, today was everything I could have wanted and more. I don't know how it happened, and I don't think you know how it happened, and I don't care, because all that matters now is that you got to see me one last time and that I could see you. Sure, we didn't do everything, but that doesn't mean today was useless. And hey, listen to me when I say this: you were not the cause of my death, okay? The driver was buzzed, and he made some really poor choices, right? But you had no part in that, but your mind takes what little facts you have with your name plastered to them and weaves them together to form a giant web of lies that you feel like you can't escape. But that's okay, because we're here now. Don't think about yesterday; don't think about tomorrow. Only today. And hey, for me personally, everything we didn't say was nothing. Or at least we covered all of it today. I love you, Madeline Simmons. That will never change."