Monday, December 23, 2013

Shady With a Chance of Perfection

Chapter 1
 
 
 
           Madison Springs smiled as she looked at the maple tree in her backyard.  It once towered over most of her yard, but it now it looked different, heavy perhaps, with its hand-shaped leaves once hanging in perky clusters, now sagging on their branches.  Over the last fourteen years, the tree has weathered many storms, but each night of wind, lightning, and hail had taken a toll on its grand posture.  Still offering some shade from the hot Wisconsin summers, Madison refused to chop it down, instead hewing off a cracked limb here or there, in favor of some shade instead of none.  Its bark was rough to the touch, with its pronating furls and ridges, but it still served as a suitable habitat for the woodpeckers, nuthatches, squirrels, and an occasional opossum.  
Madison checked her daily planner; her afternoon appointment would not be for another two hours.  Although a little apprehensive, she was receptive and anxious to receive some marriage counseling.  It had been a long time since she and her husband had been intimate, and her sessions would provide some much-needed clarity.  
She  just needed to take a quick shower, and she would be ready for her drive across town.  As she stepped into the shower, she felt an immediate sense of relief as the hot water gently pelted her skin.  She lathered cherry almond shampoo onto her scalp followed by the matching Regis cherry almond conditioner.  Her dry, chemically-damaged hair was immediately moisturized, smooth, and soft.   Now onto her legs.  With her Skintimate gel and razor in hand, she stretched out her right leg, resting it on the bathtub edge.  As she rubbed the gel on her leg, a frothy blanket of white bubbles formed, before she shaved them away.  She repeated this process on her other leg, before moving to her more--private region.  
As she stepped out of the shower, the phone rang.  Patting herself, Madison wrapped herself in a towel and picked up the receiver.  “Hello, “ she sang, always happy and positive in her demeanor.  
She was greeted by a robocall message of “This is the Mercy Clinic calling to confirm your 3:00 appointment.  Press 1 to confirm or 2 to cancel.”  
“Good God,” that call should have come in days ago.   
Still dripping wet with phone in her hand, she placed the phone back in its cradle.  She quickly slid into her new thong underwear <blushing>, yoga pants, sports bra, and t-shirt, and gathering her yoga mat for the 5:00 p.m. class, Madison rerolled it and placed her yoga blocks, socks, Ipod, and water bottle into her bag.  With a quick spritz of mousse in her hair, a five-minute blow dry, and a  brush of blush and a swirl of lip gloss, she was on her way.  
Ronald Smiley was across town in his office.  As his receptionist peered at him from across her desk, she could see the wrinkles in his face.  He was haggard, and his recent torn meniscus had slowed him down.  Although he did have surgery, he did not heed his own doctor’s recommendation for a four to six week recovery time.  Just a little over three weeks after his surgery, Dr. Smiley was back at work.  His knee was not responding well to the lifting and rising from a seated position that his job entailed, yet here he was counseling his clients on a plethora of topics from marriage and divorce to phobias and depression.  No topic was off limits.  
Madison unlocked her silver PT Bug.  Throwing her bag and mat into the back seat, she started the ignition and hurried on her way.  The traffic seemed unusually heavy for an afternoon drive, but perhaps it slowed a bit due to summer construction.  Whatever the case, she had time to spare as she pulled into the lot.  Signing in at the front desk, Madison barely had time to open a magazine before she was called in back.  
“Hello.”
“Hi.”
“I’m Dr. Smiley.  Please have a seat.”
“What is your name?”
“Madison Jean.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thank you.  Madison is a surname similar to Matthew meaning 'A gift from God', and Jean was my mother’s middle name.  I never cared for it.
“Why is that?”
“It always sounded so plain--so unsophisticated.”



2 comments:

  1. An ongoing story? Nice.

    Either refer to the woman by her first name or as her/she. Having the narrator use her last name gives a clinical feel to it. Or a noir tinge, which I know comes naturally to you and may fit the story but that I isn't clear from this excerpt.

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  2. While I do love noir Nick, you are right. I have replaced her last name with Madison or she/her. As this is a rough draft, it was sloppy and inconsistent as opposed to deliberate on my part. Looking forward to adding to this piece but have misplaced my paper draft.. Ever do that? Keep bringing on the constructive criticism. I value what you have to say.

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