Maddie's Diary (Part I)

by Dana

Thursday, March 10, 1988
 
I feel silly doing this. I haven't done this since high school. A minute ago, I thought I had a ton to say, but now my brain is blank.
 
A therapist once told me that in periods of great confusion in my life, it might be helpful to keep a diary or a journal. Actually, I can't remember a time that I was more confused than I am right now, so I figure I'll see if she was worth $85 an hour and give it a shot.
 
I just flew home to Chicago to visit my parents. Got here this morning on the red eye. No planning, no nothing. Not like me at all. But I had to get out of Los Angeles. Everything was getting out of control. David and I, work... I needed to get away, get some perspective. Take a time out. I feel like a soldier under heavy fire who just jumped into a foxhole. I just wonder how long I can keep cover.
 
My parents were dumbfounded when they saw me. I must look like I've been run over by a bus. No sleep, wrinkled clothes, David's scent still on me. Mom even asked if I had the flu. No flu, but I felt awful, so I retreated up here to my old room. For a few minutes I just laid here listening, staring. It seems like the only thing that has changed since high school is me. The same sound the air conditioning makes when it kicks on, the same slam of the garage door. Hell, even the posters on my bedroom wall are still up. Yellow and faded, but they're still hanging. Very strange.
 
Okay, I feel like I am getting the hang of this. I feel like my brain is opening up a little. I am thinking a little more clearly.
 
I called David a little while ago. I didn't want to, but I thought I should because I didn't want him to worry. Hearing him was harder than I thought it would be. He was angry, maybe even a little hurt. I assured him that this was for the best. I said I needed time, space, and to figure out what was going on with us. He didn't agree with me, but he didn't disagree either. I don't know if that's good or bad.
 
I also told him not to call me. I didn't mean to hurt him, but in the best interest of my own sanity, it has to be that way. You see, if I knew he was calling I would wait for him, and I'd wonder why he didn't if there was a time when I needed him to. Does that sound crazy? Yeah, I guess it does.
 
All right, if I am going to do this diary thing, I should be completely honest with myself. The big reason why I asked him not to call was because I couldn't bear to hear his voice. Not that he has a bad voice. It's just the opposite. See, he has this tone, it's almost a whisper. I guess you could call it his "bedroom voice." It's thick and low and slides out his mouth through his smirk. It's the kind of whisper that tickles your earlobe and lets you know he really means it when he says he loves you.
 
I may be naïve, but I like to believe he uses that voice only for me. And for some reason, it really gets to me when he uses it over the phone. He knows this and uses it against me all the time. I can't tell you how many times he has called me when I’ve been with a client just to embarrass me. One sentence, and I'm hooked. Throw in a "honey" or "baby", and I'm putty. I lose all control.
 
Okay, okay, so asking him not to call might have been unreasonable, but I had to. He would convinced me to come home, and had I told him I was leaving, he would have convinced me to stay in L.A. This is something I have to do my way, and if he truly loves me, he will understand.
 
I hope he understands.



Tuesday, March 15
 
Well, I'm still here and still getting adjusted. I haven't left the house at all, and my parents are really beginning to worry. I keep telling them I'm still jetlagged, and maybe I am, but mostly I just don't feel like being social. I don't know how to describe how I feel. I better try, though, because my parents are really at the end of their rope.
 
So, like I said, I am getting adjusted. It's nice being cooked for again. Mom has even done a few loads of my laundry. During the day I pretty much keep to myself, in my room or somewhere else where no one is. I nap a lot, too. Truth is, I have turned almost nocturnal, watching TV, reading, existing mostly after midnight. I don't know why, but things seem more urgent at night. My mind won't shut down no matter how much I want it to.
 
There is one thing that keeps me awake that I am kind of embarrassed to admit. I miss David at night. I mean, the bed is so big, and I have grown so accustomed to having him next to me. It's nothing to do with sex or anything. It's just comfortable to have him there.
 
It's funny, but I have slept alone (with a few short-term exceptions) all my life and I always enjoyed my space. Boyfriends would leave early in the morning, and I would be grateful to reclaim their side for a few hours. But David was different. I loved to wake up in the middle of the night and hear him breathing beside me. I can't tell you how many thunderstorms I have watched pass outside my window from inside David's arms. I miss the way he would stroke my hair as I fell asleep. I even miss his snoring.
 
This morning, I woke up just before dawn. Not realizing where I was (and where David wasn't), I asked him if he had set the alarm clock. Whenever we had this conversation, which was often, he usually just groaned and fell back to sleep. But today, I got no answer and when I rolled over the bed was empty. At first, I wasn't alarmed. Sometimes, David gets up early to go back to his apartment, but when he did, he always kissed me goodbye. I called out his name, and then I realized where I was. Thousands of miles away. He wasn't even in the same time zone.
 
I shouldn't complain. After all, leaving was my choice. And overnight companionship is nowhere near the issues I am dealing with. But be that as it may, I still miss him, and I refuse to sleep in the middle of the bed. I'll leave the left side vacant, just so I don't get used to the space.



Wednesday, March 16
 
I have been here almost a week, and things don't seem to be getting much easier. I feel sick all the time, my parents think I am crazy, and I am no less confused now than I was when I got here.
 
It doesn't help that I dream about him all the time, either. I can't help it. I feel sick, so I sleep, and when I sleep, all my brain seems to come up with is David Addison. All kinds of dreams. Sometimes it’s just nonsensical fragments, sometimes they are perfect little vignettes with a beginning and an end. Sometimes they are a replay of things that have happened before. That's what this was, but with its own little twists and embellishments that only dreams can provide.
 
It was about three weeks ago, and David came to my house late one night after a Lakers game had gone into overtime. It had been raining, and when I answered the door, he was soaked. He just stood there with this goofy smile. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me out into the downpour and threw me down on the lawn. He wanted to make love right there, and we nearly did until I stopped him. In reality we went back inside, but in my dream we never did. We just let the rain fall over us while we made love. Afterwards, he held me close just like he always does. But in this dream, it seemed significant that was holding me under him, as if he were shielding me from the brunt of the storm.
 
Get it? He was protecting me from the storm. Now I am not one to analyze dreams but that has got to mean something. Maybe it means that he should make me feel safe? Does he? I don't know. I guess so. I mean, it’s not like he is an ax murderer or anything. But maybe I am being too literal. Maybe I need to ask myself if I feel safe with him in our relationship. Hmmm, well. I don't know. That something to consider.



Saturday, March 19
 
I have been thinking a lot about this fear/David as my protector thing. And now I know the dream is important because I keep having it. But I will pose the same question. Do I feel safe in our relationship? The answer is yes and no.
 
All right. I will try to be honest with myself. Painfully, brutally honest. I can say that David has never done anything to hurt me. Ever. But the weird thing is… that's a big part of why I fear our relationship. What if he does hurt me? What if I do buy into this undying love promise of his and it doesn't work out? Is it fair for me to hold back from him because I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop?
 
I mean, take monogamy for example. David Addison monogamous? Please. He has had more flavors than Baskin Robbins. But what if he finds something he likes better tomorrow? What if we do stay together and three years, two kids, and a mortgage down the road he runs off with some college coed? It's not like he's not the type to do it. What if I don't live up to the goddess image he has built up in his head? What if Maddie Hayes is not all he had hoped she would be?
 
Ok, I am insecure. There, I said it. Maddie Hayes is insecure in her relationship with David Addison. I really don't get why. I can't think of one time he has ever given me a reason to feel that way. I mean, I have seen him look at other women, but so what. A day hasn’t gone by that he hasn't told me he loves me since he first said it. Except, of course, while I have been here.
 
So, this is my problem. My insecurities, I mean. I wonder if he has them too? He must. I am sure it's hard to hear over and over how unsure the woman he loves is about our relationship. Now many pacts could he take?
 
Now I feel terrible. Maybe I should call him and tell him what I have been thinking. But have I really solved anything? No, I would be calling to tell him I was insecure about our relationship. I can just hear his smirking voice "Old news, sweetheart. Old news."



Wednesday, March 23
 

So today I was holed up in my room doing a crossword puzzle when the maid slid an envelope under my door. I feel bad. She could have knocked; I would have answered. Anyway, guess who sent it?
 
For a moment I just stared at it. I know his handwriting, and I could swear I smelled his aftershave on it. Anyway, after a few deep breaths I opened it. It was like a book. Four pages at least. I have to admit, it made me laugh. The whole thing was like a giant memo of business happenings and cases I missed. The stuff he comes up with! Something about flying a vintage biplane in L.A. traffic. I wish I knew how his mind worked.
 
He is trying so hard. With the business. With us. I have to give credit where credit is due. It's not everyone who can just leave their job for an extended amount of time and expect everyone to else to fill in. But David is pulling through, and from what I have gathered from reading his letters, quite well. Business is booming. Maybe he does understand responsibility.



Thursday, March 24

I have been here for a while, and something has suddenly occurred to me that has me really nervous. I am almost exactly a full month late. The bad kind of late. The kind of late you are when you are going to have a baby. Now, I could be overreacting. I have been under a lot of stress, and traveling can wreak havoc on your body. But I should be adjusted by now.

I forgot my pill two days in late January. David and I were on stakeout, and I never made it home to take them. It didn't really faze me, since I wasn't in a relationship or anything then, but then Sam showed up... and then David. Well, we all know how that went.

David asked me a few times about birth control. I told him I was on the pill, and I should have admitted the missed doses, but I didn't. I don't know why. He offered to use condoms, and a few times we did, but sometimes the spontaneity of it all put a nix on that idea. And besides, I knew my cycle. I had looked at the calendar. The horse had already been let out of the barn.

Well I can't worry about it now. I have to get dressed for this crazy party my parents threw together at the last minute. I think it's their way of getting me out of my room. Now I just have to find my other black dress. The one I planned to wear seemed a little snug.



Friday, March 25, 2:00 AM

My hand is shaking as I write this. I have no idea what I am feeling or what I intend on writing but... I am pregnant. Pregnant. With child. Expecting. All those things. I just found out. There was this doctor I met at the party. We left... anyway, how I found out is not important. What is important is the fact that I am.

I have no idea how I feel about this. All I do know is that I had this overwhelming need to tell someone. The first person I thought of was David. You have no idea what it was like to dial those digits. My fingers were numb. He wasn't there, and I am kind of glad he wasn't. I have no clue what I would have said had he answered, anyway. There is a whole hell of a lot to consider, and I want to digest it first before I invite him in for a bite. So, I figured Agnes was a safe person to tell, and I'm sure she will keep it to herself. After all, David needs to hear this from me.

I wonder where he is tonight, anyway. It's after midnight, and tomorrow is a workday. Maybe he is out with Bert and Agnes. Maybe he took a walk. He does that sometimes when he can't sleep. I probably won't be able to sleep tonight myself.

Go figure.


To be continued...


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