Dysfunctional Family 2 ~

“What?” Madison asks totally stunned looking directly into vacant eyes.

“We need a minute.” Madison urgently states glancing over at Dr. Green as he emotionally caresses over the top of the older man’s trembling hand.

“You . . . Mad . . .” Marshall struggles to say; as Dr. Green motions to the others to go inside.

“Noooo.” Madison emotionally reassures still softly caressing over his hand as the older man’s vacant stare drifts back to the floor.

“I Love You.” Madison sincerely whispers after several moments, slowly getting on his knees in front of him; trying/praying he’ll look up.

When it doesn’t work Madison fully collapses at his feet emotionally resting against his trembling legs as his heart, body and soul struggles with Why?

“Mr. Montgomery I really should continue.” Dr. Green says with concern after silently watching them from the doorway for several long moments and Madison quickly wipes away his tears.

“Yeah.” Madison softly says quickly standing and gently roams his hand over the older man’s back who seems to be a little calmer, but as withdrawn as when he first arrived.

Dr. Green exams what he can, and then explains to Madison that Mr. Mathers is dehydrated and should be in a hospital but when Madison slowly explains they’re gonna spend the night else where. Marshall becomes very emotional crying out for Carly and the nervous trembling begins again.

Dr. Green advices it wouldn’t be wise to move Mr. Mathers without a sedative, and Madison firmly states No and he firmly explains that Mr. Mathers should be in a hospital.

After an intense stand off they agree to try again tomorrow to move Mr. Mathers’ to a hospital, that is after Madison assures that Mr. Mathers will not be left alone till then and he’ll try to find his family because of decisions that will have to be made about his health care, fully understanding that if no family member is found the state will be notified.

Once alone again Madison quietly watches the older man sit almost lifeless, staring at the floor for several hours before emotionally giving up for the day and gently carrying him to bed and tucking him in after he curls up in a fetal position.

“When I came here today this is not what I was expecting . . . . . expecting several lady friends. You enjoying retirement . . . . . . to tell you the truth I didn’t even expect to get passed the front gate.” Madison softly explains sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the older man’s back.

“My plan was to do a lot of bragging about buying Shady Records . . . . . . . . and everything else you own would be next . . . we’d do a lot of threatening and yelling.” Madison softly rattles stretching out on top of the blankets beside him.

“You said you knew I come . . . . . does that mean you know who I am?” Madison emotionally mumbles gently placing his hand on the older man’s back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Promptly Dr. Green returns the following morning with a Dr. Stellar that makes a diagnosis that Mr. Mathers’ confused state seems to be coming from a deep depression and then regretfully informs that only time would tell if it would be a long-term condition.

Madison explains that he’s trying to find Mr. Mathers’ family and plans to stay with him till they’re found. Seeing something in the young mans eyes Dr. Green recommends a home nurse that he can communicate with several times a day, about Mr. Mathers vitals and could administer IV’s and medication as needed to assure Mr. Mathers has the best possible care till his family is found.

Without thinking twice Madison hires the home nurse, a middle-aged woman named Mrs. Ward; who has twenty years experience in home nursing.

Several days pass with everyone slowly getting to know one another, Dr. Green keeping a very close eye on his new patient and the mysterious young man.

With the help of Mrs. Ward and phone conversations with his private executive assistant Tiesha Collins, Madison hires a staff to bring the large mansion back to life.

To encourage Mr. Mathers to roam freely through his home safety rails are installed and full safety inspections are done on the elevator.

Madison making it very clear to the new staff that even though he signs their paycheck, all them were in Mr. Mathers’ home, and his well-being was everyone’s Number One Priority.

During the cleaning when asked what he would like done to the home studio, Madison makes it very clear that it’s Off Limits To Everyone; feeling it would invade the last bit of privacy Mr. Mathers has.

Late at night when unable to sleep, which are most nights Madison secretly goes out to the studio and mostly just sits, wishing the walls could talk . . . explain . . . finding a sort of comfort in them being sound proof, making it the only place besides his heart, body and soul where he can say father.

Mrs. Ward suggests after two weeks that Mathers start a sort of excise program, starting with some short walks through the large home and Madison has to quickly step in when he refuses, swearing very clearly that “The Warden is trying to kill him.”

Both of them taking the clear swearing as a good sign, though it getting a little easier to communicate with him, about such things as what he wants to eat and when, but at other times extremely hard to get him to even speak, acknowledge the fact that someone is talking to him even in the room with him.

Mrs. Ward discovers that Mathers’ is at his happiest when he just sits quietly in the home office staring up at a large oil painting of a woman that he calls “His Beautiful Carly” that hangs above the fireplace.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Before you start bitching! Tell Mr. Johnson that I signed the Stanley Oil contract and Priority Fed Ex a copy to his office. So go back to California and count his fuckin’ money.” Madison agitatedly instructs over his cel phone.

“Then tell the other Assholes to Fuck Off! Then meet me in the parking garage. Alone!” Madison agitatedly barks and then quickly hangs up.

Ms. Collins professionally explains to Mr. Montgomery’s business associates that have gathered because of his disappears that he has instructed for them to return to California and that he’ll be in touch.

Never really truly caring for the young arrogant asshole but grown accustom to the large sums of money they’ve made from doing business with the very talented corporate raider do as told.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What fuckin’ part didn’t you fuckin understand when I said I never wanted any of them Here!” Madison angrily spews as soon as the middle aged woman gets in the passenger side.

“Excuse Me but you’ve been gone for almost three weeks. What in the hell was I suppose to do?” Tiesha agitatedly states.

“I want this Finished by the end of the week!” Madison firmly states handing over a large envelope.

“They said . . .” Tiesha begins after taking a folder out and scanning over it.

“I’ve upped the offer so make sure they fuckin’ take it this time.” Madison agitatedly interrupts, staring out the windshield.

“Madison . . .” Tiesha begins to explain how worried she is about some of his business choices of late.

“When you get it Done! When It’s Finally Mine! I’ll be at this address. Come Alone!” Madison sternly interrupts holding out a slip of paper.

Tiesha in extreme concern over her obvious hasn’t slept; on edge young lover slowly reaches for the slip of paper, and is surprisingly pulled into a deep demanding kiss that she quickly responds too.

With a hot need they retire to the back seat, Tiesha urgently hiking up her skirt and removing her panties as Madison quickly pushes his baggie jeans/boxers to his ankles.

Tiesha passionately straddles his waist and slowly impales down on his young hard cock and begins a slow sensual grind as their mouths lock in a torrid kiss.

Feeling his urgency . . . his need Tiesha clamps her dripping muscles around and sensual rocks till his body begins to tremble beneath her and then follows him into an erotic high.

Madison slowly relaxes beneath her as the last of his seed releases and she warmly feels as she has many times, his unspoken love as his head nuzzles against her neck and his lips softly dancing over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Madison gets into a somewhat routine of working at Shady Records/doing business a couple hours each day with Mrs. Ward’s and Tiesha’s help, but very adamant about having quite/private dinner with the older man.

Even though the conversations slow and hard to understand at times, even heartbreaking when he mentions his daughter Hailie Jade. Madison emotionally wanting to yell out he also has a son, and let come what may, but the obvious happiness when he speaks about her always stops.

A little over an hour late because of a really fucked up day Madison rushes into the house and quickly told that Mr. Mathers is still in the dinning room as his backpack is taken.

“You Late!” Marshall very clearly comments, before he even has a chance to apologize or sit down.

“I’ve had a fucked up Day!” Madison emotionally barks but quickly regretting his tone, as a maid sits a dinner plate in front of him.

“I’m sorry . . . It’s not your fault I had a bad day.” Madison sincerely apologizes noticing the older man isn’t eating just nervously moving food around on his plate.

“Sometimes . . . . talk . . . . about it.” Marshall emotionally struggles to plainly suggest.

“It would just bore you. How was your day?” Madison tries to nonchalantly ask; deeply wanting to tell him about the idiotic people that think they can rap and how fuckin’ stupid he was for not paying closer attention to a trucking’ company that needed a little help, because stock in the company went for practically pennies on a dollar today to someone else that stands to make millions by the end of the year.

“NO! . . . . been . . . . . home . . . . Why?” Marshall struggles to ask, trying to control the nervous trembling.

“I’m sorry . . . . . I never meant to intrude.” Madison finally says after a few minutes of intense silence slowly standing.

“Please . . . sit . . . . please.” Marshall emotionally pleads silently praying for Carly’s help and thanks her when their son slowly sits back down.

“You have to eat.” Madison softly says in concern, after watching him for several minutes of nervously pushing food around on his plate again; startled Marshall drops his fork and the silver hitting the fine china sends a bone chilling cling through the air.

“Sorry.” Marshall nervously mumbles trying to control the nervous trembling reaching for the fork.

“It’s okay. Do you want me to get Mrs. Ward?” Madison asks in concern, reaching out and softly placing his hand on his arm, worried that the nervous trembling is only going to get worse.

“Not hungry.” Marshall emotionally mumbles slowly standing.

“You have to eat.” Madison sincerely says quickly standing also and tenderly trying to coach him to sit back down.

“Go . . . . . . my room!” Marshall nervously mumbles and Madison slowly lets go and watches him slowly walk away.

“FUCK!” Madison angrily yells out blindly picking up his water glass and violently throwing it just as Mrs. Ward walks into the room.

“Mr. Montgomery . . . is everything all right?” Mrs. Ward asks very concerned; just as the fine crystal water glass crashes against the wall sending ice water and crystal splashing everywhere.

“Da . . . . Mr. Mathers went to his room! Please go check on him!” Madison tries calmly to state, emotionally wanting just one fuckin’ time to say Dad out loud, Just One Fuckin’ Time.

Mrs. Ward quickly leaves to find Mathers’ as Madison blindly rushes to the home office; his eyes first focusing on an eight by ten picture of Hailie on the desk and blindly picks it up and lets it sail through the air as if a freebee.

After several drinks of Hennessy Madison sits down at the desk and tries to look over notes he made during auditions today with possible new idiotic so called rappers but suddenly angrily sweeps the desktop clean; everything loudly crashing to the floor just as Mrs. Ward walks in.

“Mr. Montgomery.” Mrs. Ward tries to calmly say.

“WHAT?” Madison angrily barks, storming over to the bar in the corner of the room and refreshing his glass of Hennessy.

“How is he?” Madison asks desperately trying not to be concerned.

“I know your views on giving Mr. Mathers any unnecessary medication, but in my medical opinion I think it would be best if I gave him a mild sedative . . . . . Just to calm him down.” Mrs. Ward carefully explains; knowing how obsessed Mr. Montgomery is about Mr. Mathers’ medical condition.

“Mr. Montgomery?” Mrs. Ward nervously asks after several long moments of watching him stare up at the portrait.

“Call . . . . Dr. Green first.” Madison struggles to say over the large lump in his throat; hating the fact that he is the reason they have to sedate his father.

“Do you know who the woman is?” Madison curiously asks off the top of his head; never taking his eyes from his mother’s portrait.

“Her name is Carly . . . Mathers’ talks about her all the time . . . but strangely never says what happened to her.” Mrs. Ward explains and Madison quickly turns around taking a deep breath looking directly into her eyes.

“What makes you think something happened to her?” Madison asks in a demanding tone; his tone catching Ms. Ward off guard.

“Well . . . he actually talks to her. I never really can make out what he’s saying but my heart tells me . . . he really loves her . . . the sound of his voice when he calls out for her when he is upset. In my heart I feel if there was any way in this world he could be with her he would be.” Mrs. Ward compassionately explains, as Madison takes several deep breaths, desperately trying to hide the emotions that are rushing through his body; his parents would be happy if it wasn’t for him.

“I really need to get back . . . are you going to be alright?” Mrs. Ward asks in concern; for the millionths time wondering what the real connection between the two is, noticing the same exact love, lost, and lonely expression in both man’s blue eyes when they look up at the portrait.

“Sure.” Madison mumbles, never taking his eyes away from his mother’s portrait, and Mrs. Ward takes a quick concern glance back before leaving.

“Why the fuck am I Here?” Madison angrily asks after taking another large drink.

“If it wasn’t for ME, you two would have been together! Fuckin’ Happy!” Madison angrily shouts and then takes another large drink.

“How in the hell is this Fuckin’ Normal?” Madison emotionally demands staring up at his mother’s portrait.

“I Don’t Fuckin’ want to be NICE!” Madison angrily yells; mentally trying to get his mind back around destroying the motherfucker; but his mother’s lovingly compassionate wisdom loudly ringing through.

“Okay! Sooo You don’t feel like being nice. How do you feel about signing this and marking one more thing off your list?” Tiesha sarcastically comments happily waving an envelope in the air walking fully into the room.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Madison angrily demands, definitely not in the mood for her.

“I need you to sign this.” Tiesha softly says sitting on the arm of the chair that he’s flop into; quickly noting he’s really in one of his moods.

“Whada fuck are you talking about?” Madison agitatedly barks leaning his head back and glaring up at her.

“I’ll give you a hint . . .” Tiesha tries to happily say with a laugh carefully roaming her long slender fingers through his short choppy light brown hair.

“Skip the fuckin’ hint.” Madison angrily barks roughly grabbing the envelope.

“They’ve agreed to your offer. Just sign on the dotty line and you’ll finally own Aftermath Records, one more thing to mark off your list.” Tiesha happily says and he quickly gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“They didn’t want to sell their Daddy’s precious little company. They did they didn’t the tears . . . crying . . . it was fuckin’ sicken.” Tiesha agitatedly rattles, trying to explain the families emotionally drama about finally selling, and Madison angrily jumps to his feet.

“If you every want to work again! Anywhere! Never speak of Aftermath again in that tone!” Madison hauntingly states, glaring down at her, tightly holding onto her wrist.

“Sorry.” Tiesha nervously mumbles looking into cold blue eyes, knowing he usually gets a thrill out of taking over companies; that he does very well.

“When you’re in this home with Me! You will always show Aftermath Respect! . . . Now where do I sign?” Madison evilly whispers, pulling her tightly against his body and then into a passionate kiss.

“Madison . . . we need to talk.” Tiesha breathlessly mumbles trying to pull away.

“No the fuck we don’t!” Madison firmly states roughly pulling her back into his arms.

“I’m worried . . . you’ve been out in left field.” Tiesha nervously says again trying to break away from his tight hold.

“Thought you wanted to be in left field with me?” Madison pitifully whispers, passionately kissing and sucking on her neck softly working to her lips before she has a chance to respond.

Madison quickly signs the contract and then slowly leads her to his bedroom and leaves her there, while he checks on his father, which is asleep most likely till morning because of a sedative and then returns to her familiar comfort.

Morning comes with pitiful moans from Madison as he rolls over in the large bed alone; wishing just once she didn’t fuckin’ listen and would stay till morning.

After dressing for the day Madison calls Tiesha that is her bitchy self rattling off the same fucked up bullshit about the missed trucking deal as she did yesterday so he quickly ends the drama by hanging up.

The time of day Madison knowing his father is having breakfast but one of the staff having to point him in the right direction of the balcony of his room and he slightly laughs finding him with an expression of he could kill and Mrs. Ward sitting across from him with a matched expression.

“Morning.” Madison cheerfully says trying desperately not to laugh out loud; wondering what she has tried to get him to do and he refusing.

“Morning.” Mrs. Ward cheerfully says; knowing Mr. I Don’t Want to Eat Today will Now.

“Mathers doesn’t want to eat.” Mrs. Ward quickly agitatedly adds.

“Why not?” Madison tries to nonchalantly asks, picking a piece of bacon off the plate in front of his father.

“Don’t want eggs.” Marshall firmly states crossing his arms.

“Okay . . . what would you like?” Madison sincerely asks; remembering what Dr. Green said about sometimes in may be like raising a small child.

“Taco Bell . . . be nice.” Marshall simply says, and Madison quickly stands very impressed that he actually made a decision on his own and put a couple words together.

“Taco Bell it is. Now drink your juice.” Madison says, and then hurries into the bedroom and grabs the phone with Mrs. Ward closely following.

“He can’t have Taco Bell! It’s nine o’clock in the morning.” Mrs. Ward firmly states, as Madison waits on the phone for one of the staff down stairs to answer.

“Oh yes he can.” Madison says with a laugh, but quickly holding up his hand and then begins to explain to go to Taco Bell and get two of everything on the menu; as his mind emotionally recalls reading several Eminem interviews that mentioned his love for Taco Bell.

“Taco Bell is on its way but it may be a few minutes. So why don’t you eat the eggs while you wait.” Madison carefully suggests returning to the balcony and sitting down beside him.

“Cold.” Marshall childishly whines rolling his eyes and Madison laughs noticing Mrs. Ward also doing the same.

“Bacon is good cold.” Madison says with a laugh picking up two slices and handing one over.

“So what would you like to do today?” Madison nonchalantly asks, and the older man slowly shrugs his shoulders eating the strip of bacon.

“I don’t have any plans . . . . so we could hang out if you like.” Madison nervously emotionally suggests, and Ms. Ward quickly noting a smile on Mathers’ face, something she doesn’t see very often.

Their day consists of eating Taco Bell for brunch while watching cartoons, a slow walk around the grounds, watching DVD’s movies while eating pizza, and Madison reading aloud a book of poetry that the older man mysteriously produced.

Mrs. Ward firmly puts her foot down when it comes to dinner and makes them eat a well balanced good meal, and their day ends with Madison curling up in bed with him and reading more from the book of poetry that seems to make the older man happy/calm.

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