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Author's POV

"It's coming together nicely, don't you think?" Joan asks, standing beside her granddaughter as the workers moved in her new bedroom, along with all the little bits and bobs that came with it.

"Yeah, I really wanted this color." Madison sighs, she wasn't sure why, but her mood had dropped.

Joan takes notice of the Teens sudden mood change, already having an idea what it maybe about.

"You alright?" She asks.

Madison looks at her Nan and shrugs, returning her attention back to the movers making the ruckus.

"You know you can talk to us, right?"

"You've not got my trust that easily—"

"Didn't realize there was a meter. What am I now? Still in the yellow zone?" Joan jokingly asks.

"Red."

"Damn. Ah well, don't worry love, you're in me black zone—"

"What the hell is a black zone?"

Joan shrugs, walking away.

"What is it!?" Madison shouts, getting no response.

The Geordie was wiser and much cheekier than the little sh*t.

Madison groans, trying to stay put. She was growing impatient, wanting the men to just hurry up and throw her furniture anywhere. When her room finally did come together, it was more beautiful than she had anticipated or imagined.

"Looks good, eh?" Cheryl asks, her daughter, both taking it in. "I can still smell the paint."

"It's fine, I'll just open a window—"

"You're not sleepin' in here with the window opened, you'll get sick."

Madison shrugs.

"You're still mad at us?"

Madison shrugs.

Cheryl sighs, "Look I'm sorry, okay? But I kept that from you for your own good."

"Me finding out the way I did wasn't right. I would have rather you just be honest with me and stop treating me like a fcuking porcelain doll all the god damn time—"

"Watch your mouth. You should be glad I treat you the way I do! Nobody takes care of their kids the way your Mum and I do. So quit that bullsh*t."

Madison rolls her eyes, keeping what she really wanted to say to herself, there was no need to add fuel to the fire.

Before their argument could spark any further, the kind worker walks over to them. "Alright, we're all done. You can finally enjoy your room now."

"Thanks." Madison mutters, walking away.

"Sorry." Cheryl sighs, "Thank you for your hard work. You all did an amazing job."

"You're welcome ma'am. Just doing our jobs." They share a smile, and away they went.

Cheryl sighs once more, not sure how to deal with her daughter's mood.

"Oh wow!" Kimberley gasps, "Came out beautiful. Little sh*t has a nicer room than us." She looks at the Geordie, her smile diminishing. "What's the matter, baby?" Gently, she pulls her into her side.

Chery sighs, "I feel like crap. I don't know how to make her feel better. I obviously know I should have told her... but we were just protecting her, you know?"

"Yeah, I hear you babe." Kimberley gives her a squeeze, "Just give it sometime, she'll come around and understand that we were doing our best to keep her protected."

"She'll never understand that, bloody thing is too stubborn."

"We're patient enough to wait."

"I guess."

"Why do you guess, babe? It's happened before. We've come too far for us to start doubting."

"I guess—"

"I'll punch you. You're lucky you're pregnant right now."

They giggle.

"Youse two are a bunch of morons." Joan cuts into the sweet moment, taking them both by surprise. "It's not happy families right now, go talk to your bloody daughter."

"What's she said?" Cheryl asks instantly.

"Nothing. If you two cared enough you'd notice her mood, bloody morons." She comments again.

"Stop calling us that, we're trying." Kimberley snips. "All we do is try. She goes into these moods, we give her space and we talk it out together. Don't tell us that we're morons when you've only been here for a bloody day."

"Long enough for us to see your bad parenting."

"Mam." Cheryl gasps.

"Prove us wrong then." The older woman challenges them, instantly shutting them up. "Me point proven—"

"You didn't even give us a chance to—"

"Yet here you are still talking to us."

Cheryl groans, walking away, and heading into the direction her daughter disappeared to. She mentally prepares herself, it was all still very new to her. She was always good with giving advice to strangers, fans more to say, but when it came to her daughter, it's almost as if her tongue and brain were no longer connected.

"I thought you would have been in the piano room." Cheryl makes her presence known, finding her daughter sat in the storage room. "Why here?"

Madison ignores her Mam, sat on the covered sofa with her eyes glued to the large window.

"We plan to donate all this stuff." Cheryl rambles, "Figured someone else would need it more than us."

She timidly sits on the same sofa as Madison, but making sure to put some space between them. The sound of the plastic covering the sofa disrupts Madison's wild mind from wandering, breaking her line of vision free from the bright skies.

"Can we talk?" Cheryl tries again.

"If I hadn't found out you wouldn't want to talk." Madison instantly replies.

"Of course, I would have told you, what makes you think I would have kept it from you? I just didn't feel like it was me place to be the first—"

"You're my Mam, you're always supposed to tell me first."

Cheryl sighs, "You're right. But look what happened? You're mad at us—"

"Because I feel like a loser right now." Madison holds back her tears, she could feel her throat clenching. "I hate crying." She sniffles, looking away from her Mam in hopes to hide the brimming tears. She fans her eyes, trying to quickly dry them.

Cheryl smirks, abruptly pulling her daughter onto her lap. "Don't fight us. I'm pregnant."

Madison remains still, her body soon relaxes.

"It's okay to cry, but I hate when you cry." Cheryl confesses, stroking her daughter's hair. "If it makes you feel any better, at least Clara and Jamie aren't dating someone you don't know, now you won't have an evil step Mum or Dad."

Madison giggles, sniffling nonetheless. She buries her face into Cheryl's arms, wanting to be a baby in this very moment, naïve and innocent.

"Can I tell you something?" Madison asks, after a short silence.

"Course." Cheryl gazed at her daughter, stroking the side of her cheek in a gentle manner.

"I wanted to visit the foster home I grew up in. Well, up until the age of five, like."

Cheryl forces her smile into place, she never forgave herself, she doesn't think she ever will.

"Why is that?"

Madison shrugs, "I want to also visit the two families I stayed with."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I guess I just want to know what I was like as a baby."

Cheryl remains silent.

"I can't really ask you those questions."

Cheryl doesn't say a single word, eyes shifting.

Madison slips off her Mam's lap and stands up, "Don't take offense to it... It's nothing spiteful, or whatever, but, I want to do it for myself. You can come along... If you want, you don't have to, only if you want to. Forget it." She rambles.

Cheryl's smile naturally returns, she too standing beside her daughter. "I'd like that... very much."

"Really? You don't have to. Only if you want—"

"Shut up."

"You."

They share a smile. "I promise to be more honest with you if you talk to us more."

"I do talk to you." Madison argues.

"Talk to us before it turns into a fight."

"Deal."

They shake on it.

"Are you two idiots done in there?!" Joan shouts from the other side of the door, erupting giggles from both Cheryl and Madison.