Avalon and Maddock

Chapter 11: Avalon

*** TW for discussion of alcoholism***

Of all the homework Zephyr had assigned to us, this was the worst. Having to think about things from Maddock's point of view was not my idea of a good time. From my viewpoint, he was wrong, plain and simple and I was blameless in this mess. He'd caused our destruction with his actions, not me. He'd shown me how he didn't care, he'd become emotionally entangled with Salem and hadn't had anything to do with the boys and me for more than half a year.

But, a little nagging voice whispered in my ear...if he didn't care, why was he trying to so hard to save us? Why put up the roadblocks to divorce if he didn't care? Why save something you'd thrown out? Was it one of those oh, shit! moments where you realized you'd thrown out a hundred dollar bill and had to dig through the trash to find it?

It didn't make sense to me, and that made me feel unsettled. I'd never been good with whys. My personality required answers, and the day my dad arrived back from his trip, I was determined to get them.

That morning, I headed straight for his office the second I walked into the building.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said cheerily, getting up to give me a great big hug. "Missed my girl. How're the boys?"

"They're good. Really good," I said and then told him some funny T-ball stories that I hoped would make him laugh and put him in a good frame of mind for the talk we were going to have. I sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Dad, how did mom die?"

He froze, then recovered. "What's Maddock been saying to you?"

Interesting response to my question. "Nothing. I had to fill out a family history form at the doctor the other day and realized I have no clue how she died."

 "Why do you want to talk about such a sad time in our lives, Av?"

"Well, I think it's important to know the details in case it's genetic."

"It's not," he said authoritatively.

"How do you know? And if you know, why can't I know? This is my mother, and her health conditions could have repercussions for me or for the boys."

"It's just hard to talk about." He wouldn't even look at me now.

"Of course it is, Dad. But it's also important. It's part of my health history."

"She just died, Av. Her heart --"

I waited for him to continue. And waited.

"Her heart what, Dad?"

"She had...an undiagnosed heart condition."

Seriously? "And you don't think that's important for me to know for myself and the boys? What kind of heart condition? What was the problem?"

My father shot to his feet, his face troubled and closed off. I'd never seen him so agitated. "I can't talk about this right now, Avalon."

"Dad, I have a right to know," I said, pushing him, unwilling to let this go. "If it's something that could affect the boys, I want to know."

"She had a weak heart," he said. "But not...not anything wrong with it medically, Av. Maybe she was just weak. I went through a two-year period of time where the business was struggling...I was in danger of losing the business, our house, everything. And she was worried all the time about it, not handling it well, and she turned into a nervous wreck, constantly freaking out about us losing it all, beating the what if, what if, what if drum, as if I didn't have enough to worry about. She started drinking more and more, but I didn't catch on for a long time because I was rarely home. I was hustling to turn things around, leaving the house early, coming home late, going to conferences to network, getting some ideas for new marketing plans and fresh advertising campaigns. Anything to get my name out there, to make connections, to revive the business. And I was away on short business trips much of the time, but when I was home, I was still working and I didn't have time to really pay attention to you or your mother because I was working on strategies, making calls, fighting to keep what I'd built."