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He finds her in the nursery, gazing down at Jee-yun, the soft smile on her face hiding something deeper in her eyes, something darker.
That same darkness has been creeping up more and more recently, and it scares him. Not because he’s scared of Maddie, or scared for Jee, but because of what it means for Maddie herself.
Today though, the darkness has a wistful tinge to it, an acrid bitterness that he knows all too well himself, the sting of old wounds healed over but still tender. An apology you never got. A goodbye you didn’t deserve, or the lack of one you did. Trying and trying and never being good enough.
“Hey.”
Whatever it is, it melts as he crosses over to her, fading into what he can only describe as adoration when he presses a soft kiss to her temple and slides an arm around her waist.
Looking down at the bassinet he expects to see Jee fast asleep, nose scrunched up in that sleepy baby way he loved so much. Instead, a pair of twinkly brown eyes blink up at him as she coos softly, burbling on her fist, little feet kicking now and then as she wriggles.
Gosh she’s perfect. They both are.
“I thought she was sleeping.”
“She was supposed to be,” Maddie shakes her head, though she seems more amused than annoyed, “but I tried everything and she refused. I think she was waiting for you.”
“Well I’m here now, sweet girl,” he coos, and Jee burbles happily, grasping onto his finger with a vicelike grip, “that’s right, Daddy’s back.”
Jee lets out a soft giggle and he has to resist the urge to scoop her up and squish her. It’s not his fault he and Maddie made the cutest baby in the world.
He turns to Maddie, expecting to see his joy mirrored on her face at the wonders of the baby they created together, but her expression is inscrutable, a maelstrom of emotions and memories he can’t even begin to parse, the darkness that had receded just moments ago suddenly back with the force of a tsunami.
“Maddie?” He hates to ruin the moment but he can’t help it, “what’s wrong?”
She’s quiet for a long time, stroking one of Jee’s round cheeks absentmindedly. It would be sweet if not for the pain etched in every line of her face.
“She’s such a quiet baby.”
“That’s good right? She’s happy.” Chimney hadn’t ever thought about it before, hadn’t noticed until just now really that Jee-Yun is on the quiet side for an infant. She still cried when she needed food or a change, and he hadn’t found her lack of general crankiness to be concerning. It’s not like she was lethargic or anything, but maybe Maddie’s right and they should get her checked out. Just in case.
“Yeah." Maddie agrees, but it rings hollow, "So happy.”
Chimney’s stomach drops.
“Evan-Evan wasn’t like her.” She explains, something bone deep and despondent hidden in her voice, like if she tries to sound emotionless enough she can stop them from consuming her. “When he was a baby I mean. He cried and cried and cried. He only ever stopped when he was being held, and sometimes not even then.”
His gut twists unpleasantly. Maddie says things like this sometimes, more often now that Jee is here, things that make it clear that Buck had never actually been exaggerating when he offhandedly gave Maddie credit for every good thing about him while stubbornly blaming himself for all the bad. Chimney had known of course, that Maddie had had more of a hand in raising Buck than she should have, but there was a difference between knowing it, and seeing it in the way she swaddledJee with more finesse than any first time parent, or hearing the little anecdotes she shared sometimes without seeming to realize how fucked up it was that she'd been nursing Buck through a fever while studying for an eighth grade math test.
He can picture it all too clearly is the thing, a tiny blue eyed baby, crying out for comfort only ever given by an exhausted older sister, a child herself, too far out of her depth. Sometimes when Buck comes over for breakfast he’ll stumble a little as he sets the table and Maddie will ruffle his hair as she passes by with a cup of coffee, and Chimney can see for a moment what they must have looked like twenty years ago, a teenage Maddie running after toddler Buck, his unending energy somehow more chaotic than it is now, her with a schoolbag under one arm and her little brother under the other, the weight of the world on her delicate shoulders.
“Maddie…”
He doesn’t know what to say, how to fix this. For all the wounds they’ve shared, for all the things the’ve talked through, the Buckley siblings dynamic is something that remains forever somewhat of a mystery. He knows the broad strokes from her, gets hints and the occasional breakdown and none of the details. A few times things had been bad enough he’d reached out to Eddie, to see if he knew anything from his own Buckley, but Eddie seemed to be in the same predicament, a support forever bereft of the details. The Buckley secrets it seemed, would remain Buckley secrets, burdens shared between siblings who grew up with no one but each other.
It makes nights like this a specific kind of torture.
“You’d never know it now, would you?” Maddie lets out a hysterical laugh, “You’d never know that he was so- so unhappy. That he used to wail for hours no matter how hard I tried to soothe him. That my mom looked at her miserable two month old and told me to let him cry it out.”
Geez. Chim makes a mental note to buy the kid a coffee on his way to work tomorrow.
“You’d never know,” Maddie’s voice is rising and she still won’t look at him, even as she spirals, “that he looked so unhappy until he didn’t. Until he turned three and started smiling and never stopped, even when he was bleeding. One time he- he fell out of tree and impaled himself on a stick and he- he was smiling even when he was crying. It was like- like he thought if he kept smiling he could pretend he wasn’t hurting.”
“He was always hurting, Chim.” Finally she turns to him, “even when he pretended he wasn’t and sometimes I don’t know if he still is or not and- and Jee isn’t, she’s happy, actually happy, and I can’t help but wonder if part of why Evan wasn’t happy was because of me, and I- I’m scared. I’m scared because Jee’s happy and I’m scared I won’t notice one day if she isn’t. ”
“Maddie,” he reaches for her but she pulls away, scooping Jee into her arms, hardly seeming to notice when Jee wraps a meaty little fist around a handful of hair.
“Maddie.” He tries again when her breathing goes shallow, hitching in a way that he knows means she’s starting to panic, “Maddie take a breath, okay? It’s okay.”
“No,” she shakes her head, pressing a kiss to the top of Jee’s head, “no, I’m going to- I messed Evan up, he’s so messed up and I- I’m going to mess her up too-“
“Hey,” he catches her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes, “sweetheart, breathe with me okay?”
He inhales deeply and she follows along shakily.
“That’s it, good. Again.”
She draws in another shuddering breath, burying her nose in Jee’s soft hair.
“You’re okay,” he promises her, rubbing soothing circles up and down her back, “and Jee’s okay, and Buck is too. Alright?”
“I have to know, Howie,” her eyes shine with unshed tears, “I have to know if she’s unhappy. I don’t want to be my mother, I don’t- I can’t do to her what my parents did to Buck. What they did to me.”
She collapses into sobs, and he pulls her close, keeping Jee cradled safety between them.
“It’s not fair,” she sobs, burying her face in his neck, and Chimney aches, “it’s not fair they didn’t love him and it’s not fair I had to raise him and I- I just want better for her. I want her to stay happy. I don’t ever want her to look how Buck looked. I don't ever want her to cry like he did.”
“Oh sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls away just slightly, “look. Look at Jee. You see her?”
She sniffs. “Yeah.”
“Y’know what I see?”
“What?”
“I see the luckiest baby girl in the world because she has you as a mom, not despite it. I see a little girl who is going to grow up never doubting that she is loved. And I will say it as many times as it takes for you to believe it Maddie because it’s the truth. You are not your mother, and Jee…Jee isn’t Buck.”
“I hope she’ll grow up to be just as kind and fun and smart as he is,” He continues, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “because as much as I rag on him, your little brother is pretty great. But I also know that Jee won’t have to be those things in spite of anything the way he does. She’ll just be that way because she was born happy and got to grow up happy too. Okay?”
“Okay.” She finally whispers, and he isn’t sure that she quite believes him yet, but that’s okay. He’ll be here to remind her until she does.
Jee coos softly when Maddie sets her back in her crib and they stay there together until she finally falls asleep.
Maddie doesn’t say anything else but when he wakes up the next morning he finds her in the kitchen, Buck across from her, both of them smiling.
He pours himself a cup of coffee and joins them.
They’re happy. Everything is okay.