Three's a Crowd (From the Files of Madison Finn, 16) by Laura Dower Page B

here?” Mom’s voice cut through the hallway tension.
    “Mom!” Madison screeched. “You’re home!”
    “Of course I am,” Mom said. “Mother, didn’t you tell Maddie that I was back?”
    “Yes,” Gramma grumbled. “But then you walked right out again.”
    Mom sighed. “I walked right out? Mother, I went over to the main office to grab the rough cut of the documentary, so we could have a private screening.”
    “I know,” Gramma said. “I didn’t have a chance to say anything yet.”
    Madison couldn’t stay mad. She wanted to hug Mom too much. She threw her arms around Mom’s waist and squeezed her tightly.
    “You’re so strong,” Mom gasped. She bent down to hug Madison right back. “How are you feeling?”
    “She went to school today—” Gramma started to report.
    Madison interrupted. “I’m feeling better now that you’re home, Mom.”
    Mom pulled a videotape with the rough cut of the film out of a small tote. She directed everyone, including Phin, in to the family room. Gramma, Madison, and the dog parked themselves in front of the TV set.
    “I should really get dinner going,” Gramma said. “You two can watch together without me.”
    “Mother …” Mom said sternly as she popped in the tape.
    Gramma threw her up hands. “Fine, fine,” she said, sitting back down. “I’ll watch. We’ll all watch.”
    Mom was like a fleece blanket. Madison was instantly warmed by her presence in the house. Madison had missed Mom more than she had been willing to admit.
    The gears of the machine stuck, so the tape didn’t play right away. While Mom fiddled with the controls to get things started, Madison tickled Phin’s belly.
    Gramma tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair.
    “I really should get the food started,” Gramma said, starting up.
    “Mother! I want you to see this,” Mom replied. “We can get dinner later.”
    Once again, Gramma sat back down and stopped talking.
    The movie started.
    Madison had seen almost all of the documentary work Mom had ever done. A profile of sea turtles called Underwater Magic was Madison’s personal favorite. But Gramma Helen had not seen much of Mom’s work. Her excuse was that she didn’t really “understand” what Mom did. Mom’s reply was always, “What’s to understand? I make little movies about real things.”
    This time, Gramma Helen didn’t have a choice. She was watching.
    The screen was filled with white light. Then a series of dots started to appear, one by one, until the entire screen was blacked out. Burning through the black came luminous white letters that read: Blackout: AIDS Around the Globe.
    Gramma crossed her legs. Madison couldn’t even tell if Gramma were really looking at the screen.
    Mom’s documentary focused mostly on AIDS in Africa. In it were interviews with families suffering from the disease. She showed communities five years earlier as compared to the present day. Some places were losing as much as fifty percent of their populations. Alongside the photos and live footage of people, Mom explained, she would be cutting in statistics that would flash on the screen.
    Slowly, frame by frame, as the movie proceeded, Madison noticed that Gramma was starting to pay more and more attention to it. About twenty minutes into Blackout, Gramma seemed one hundred percent focused. She even seemed a little teary during certain parts.
    “Frannie, this is astounding,” Gramma said, after a segment that featured a young boy of twelve who was bringing up his two brothers alone after all of the other members of his family had contracted and died from AIDS.
    “What am I complaining about?” Madison said aloud. “I’ve got a little cough and I think I’m sick?”
    “Well, honey bear,” Mom said. “You don’t have to compare yourself to these people. Your situation is a lot different. You were sick, too.”
    By that point, Gramma couldn’t take her eyes from the TV screen.
    “Frannie, this is remarkable. I had no idea you