NaNoWriMo-untitled novel-chapter one

*YAY! Here is the first part of the novel. I know it sucks....so dont be too harsh. I also need a title and TWO MALE CHARACTER NAMES.*

I told myself I would never come back. But then, I had never planned on having my mother dying at the age of sixty-one. In a matter of one phone call, here I was, back in the place I had left a mere ten years before, promising myself up and down I would never come back.
When I left, I was eighteen, freshly graduated from Groves High School and ready to make my mark on this godforsaken planet. I left on June 23rd, a Saturday. I packed up my old Cavalier and took off, with never a backwards glance. I didn’t feel bad about leaving mom here on her own. She had her Ladies Group from church, and the children in the neighborhood. She was happy, or at least I thought so. I never thought she would miss me, so I never said goodbye.
I think the last time I talked to her was the night before I left. We were yelling and I was explaining, quite simply if I do say so, that she didn’t understand. I had dreams beyond the town of Harper’s Grove. I wanted out. The next morning, I left. No note, nothing. Two years went by before I called. By then I was in New York, living in an apartment in Greenwich Village with three other girls like myself.
I remember that she was surprised to hear from me.
“Hello?”
“Hi mom.”
“What? Madeline? Is that you?”
“Yes mom.”
“Why didn’t you call earlier?
“I don’t know.” Awkward pause. “I just wanted to say hi, check in, see how things were.”
“Oh, well, everything is good.” Another awkward pause. “Everyone is wondering how you’re doing.”
“Tell them I’m fine.”
“Where are you?”
“In New York.”
“The city?”
“Yes Mom.”
“Oh, pick me up a souvenir.”
“I will.” And I hung up.

It was hard to be back in Harpers Grove. I felt out of place. It wasn’t the place I was used to. There were no yellow taxis streaming down the streets, no old men selling hot dogs on the corners, no bustle. It was the boring Harpers Grove I remembered, the torment of my youth.
Driving down the streets littered with fallen leaves, I took in how old the trees were, how their limbs draped gracefully over the roads. There were kids out, seeing as it was past three. A little girl waved, and reluctantly I smiled back. What can I say, she was cute.
As I turned onto Maple, I spotted my mom’s old mini-van. I couldn’t suppress the smile, knowing that she was still driving the same car as always. Things never seem to change. I pulled the black Mercedes beside the van, noticing how much the brand new car stuck out on the small neighborhood street. It wouldn’t be long before people knew I was back. Too bad I couldn’t go hide it in the woods and pretend to be a ghost traveling through town.
As I opened the trunk, I heard the front door open slowly. Looking up, there she was, gray hair bundled at the nape of her neck. She looked so much older than she was.
“Madeline? Is that you?” I walked the path, nearly tripping on the raised concrete. Maybe that would be fixed while I was home. Dropping my bags at the foot of the porch, I reached for a hug.
“You don’t look like you used to Madeline.”
“It’s good to see you too mom.” I pulled back and smiled, sincerely.
“I knew one day you would come back.” Clutching my hand in hers, she pulled me inside as I slung my bags over my shoulders. She made small talk as she led me up the stairs, leading me in her shuffling way to my old room.
“It might not look the same as you left it.”
“I’m sure its gorgeous.” She smiled and cracked the door open and pushed inside. I gasped as I took it in.
Gone was the pale pink flowered wall paper I picked out the day I turned eight. The walls were now a pale green. My bed was still there, but now covered by a beautiful green patchwork quilt. All the knickknacks and mementos I had collected in high school were gone. In place were bouquets of flowers and photos.
“It’s beautiful mom.”
“I redecorated after the fifth year.” I noticed the hurt in her voice. “I figured you wouldn’t be coming home again, so I made into a guest room.” She shuffled over to the rocking chair in the window and sat, gingerly. I rested my bags by the closet, then returned to the bed and sat down across from her.
“You’re angry with me.”
“Of course I am. I woke up one day and my only daughter was gone, not a trace of her in the house. No note, nothing, until a phone call two years later.”
“Mom, I’m sorry. I had to leave.”
“Why?” I couldn’t help but notice how frail she looked.
“Do we really have to go into this now?” She sighed and turned to look out the window.
“I guess not. We’ll wait.” She watched a bluebird fly past the glass before returning her gaze to mine. “We do need to talk about it sometime soon though. I ain’t got much longer Madeline.”
“I know mom. I’m here and we’ll talk, just not now. I promise.” I took her hand in mine and smiled. She stood and I wrapped an arm around her.
“Where did you get that black hair from anyway?” I helped her out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.
“It’s dyed.” She quirked her head at me, examining it.
“I like it. Except, you should wear a little more color, not all black.” I smiled and helped her prepare dinner.

It was a couple hours later that we were sitting on the porch, watching as the kids took in the last rays of sunshine. She rocked steadily in her old chair, and I sipped my tea. I had wrapped her in a quilt, afraid she’d be cold. She was snuggled in, eyes closed as the sun set and the last fireflies of the season emerged.
I had forgotten how many stars you could see from out in the country. I could never see any from the city. It was beautiful.
“What are you thinking about Madeline?” So she was awake.
“How much I missed the stars.”
“And your mother?”
“Of course.” She nodded and looked up too.
“I’m going to miss the stars. When I’m gone. They give me peace.” It was my turn to nod, and sip ice cold tea. “I guess I’ll miss a lot of things when I’m gone, won’t i? Or maybe there will be better things where I’m going.”
“Perhaps.”
“Do you remember that time we slept outside when you were ten?”
“How could I forget? You made me bundle up so warmly, and you ended up bring me in the house as soon as I fell asleep anyway.” We both grinned. It grew silent as I left her to her own thoughts. She had aged so much in ten years. I hardly recognized her with all the gray hair. She still had the same blue eyes, the same ones that stared at me in the mirror. They twinkled now, reflecting the starlight and the streetlights.
“Madeline?”
“Yes?”
“Will you stay here until I go?” She looked at me blankly as she asked this.
“Of course.”
“Do you promise not to leave me?” Again, the blank look.
“I promise ma.”
“Good. It’ll be soon now.” I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
We only stayed outside a short while longer before returning to the warmth of the house. Tired from the long drive, I started upstairs.
“Are you going to bed Madeline?”
“Yes ma. Need help with anything?” She appeared at the foot of the stairs.
“Help me up, would you?” I nodded and wrapped my arm around her, supporting her bulky weight. We turned our separate ways at the top of the stairs.
“Madeline?” Turning around I caught her blank look again. “Are pancakes still your favorite?”
“Yes.” I smiled and retreated into my room.
Sitting on my bed, the smile disappeared. The next few weeks were going to be trying on me. I was here alone and there were so many things I would need to tell her, to explain, to cry over. After being so adamant about not wanting to come back, I was glad. She needed me, but deep down I knew I needed her more.
After lying in bed for a couple hours, I realized there was one more thing I needed to do before I could sleep. Crouching in the dark, I dug through my bags until I clutched my fingers around it. Finding the desk light, I flipped it on and grabbed a small piece of paper. Scribbling a note, I snuck into the hallway, and then into her room.
I only watched her sleep for a little while before retreating to my own room for the night.
I put the small statue of the Statue of Liberty on her nightstand with a note that simply read, “Here’s your souvenir Mom, just like I promised. I love you-Madeline.”