Madison’s World Redux Season 3 Episode 27

McKenzie’s face lit up the moment she saw Greg. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t restrained. It was immediate, unfiltered in a way that didn’t belong to the tension still lingering in the room. It had been to long since she really got to see him. The burdens of Tennis, school, her part time job. While Madison thankfully helps out with the house its still alot. They had spent last several weeks redecorating trying to make it feel like their own space. Their own home. The old look and decor had to many memories that would get dredged up. However, part of it was just the excitement of being able to put things how they wanted. How things worked best for them.   

McKenzie’s eyes flicked to Cindy for a brief second, more acknowledgment than interest. She could see her mom was excited to see her which in and of itself was strange. The one silver lining about this whole thing had been her mom not breathing down her neck. Every decision and choice she made not being ridiculed or talked about how wrong it was. She hated how her mom had always discounted her beliefs and she just had to accept it. She had to roll with it because what could she do to her mom other then yelling, and slamming a door. Smallara had changed for Mckenzie thought before returning her gaze to her dad.. 

She let her bag slide off her shoulder. It dropped to the floor with a soft, careless thud. She didn’t even look down at it. Her focus had already shifted as she crouched down in front of the habitat. 

“Hey,” she said, softer now. 

Inside the enclosure, Greg felt something loosen in his chest. 

There it is. 

 That version of her. The one that still sounded like his kid.  

“McKenzie,” Cindy said quickly, warmth rushing into her voice before she could measure it. “Hi.” 

Too fast. Too hopeful. Cindy heard it even as she said it and hated it, but she couldn’t pull it back. She wanted to make it right. She couldn’t rely on Greg for this. He was a good man and she loved him but he wasn’t the one you wanted to charge in and do what needed to be done. He was to passive. He always tried to work within the system. He never understood that sometimes people just needed a guiding hand to steer them towards what’s right. Mckenzie was always like that. She didn’t agree with her methods, but she could get McKenzie to come around and go along with her ways after a talk. She was sure this would be one of those times and Madison wasn’t here to get in the way. 

McKenzie glanced at her.  “Mom.” She said. The word landed flat. Not cruel. Not kind. Just… there. Cindy felt it immediately. The distance in it. The absence of warmth she used to take for granted. 

“Okay. That’s fine. Just… keep going.” Cindy told herself. She hesitated for half a second, then pushed forward before she could lose her nerve. 

“It’s been brought to my attention that… maybe I wasn’t as right as I thought I was,” she said, each word heavier than the last. “About Littles. About how things should be handled.” Cindy said glancing briefly over to Greg as if to say this is how it’s done. Start out neutral show that she has learned. Bettered herself over these past months that she isn’t the same person she was. She was Cindy Wessen. She just needed to get things back to how they were. If She could get McKenzie to fall in line. Madison would follow.  It’s clear to her she is the same person she was before, just smaller.  She can’t say the same for other littles, but other littles didn’t matter. This was their family. their home. They shouldn’t be living out of a habitat out of Madison’s room. She should be in her own room at the very least. 

McKenzie blinked. The shift didn’t just surprise her. It made her wary. 

“…I’m sorry, what?” 

Her eyes flicked to Greg . She looked to her dad to question what was going on. She just wanted to spend some time with her Dad as it’s been busy lately and he had always made time for her. No matter how busy or chaotic life got or work got. He made time for tennis games, made time to take to her lunch or a dinner or a movie or just doing something around the house. Now, the roles were reversed, and she needed to do the same for him. Correction she didn’t need to, she wanted to. This is her dad and she’s his daughter.  

“Not now. Not like this.” Greg thought about Cindy’s statement. He felt the glance hit him like a question he didn’t want to answer. He didn’t know exactly what Cindy was going to say but he knew it was going to blow up. McKenzie wasn’t going to be receptive to this. She doesn’t hate her mother. He knows that. She does love and care about her but to many things have been said and Cindy wasn’t as kind or understanding or forgiving as she should have been.  

“Cindy,” he said quietly, already uneasy, “maybe this isn’t—” But Cindy didn’t stop. She couldn’t. This was the moment. The opening. The one chance she had been waiting for, whether she admitted that to herself or not. 

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” she said, her voice tightening as she tried to keep it steady. “Or make you feel like you were wrong for how you saw things. I just… I didn’t understand as much as I thought I did.” 

The room went still.  McKenzie stood up slowly. The movement wasn’t dramatic, but something in it shifted the balance of the space. Distance. Control. Perspective. 

“You don’t get to do this.” McKenzie said. She looked at her dad again. Of course her mom was going to ruin this. Of course she couldn’t spend time with her dad without her making this about her. She always needed to control every situation. Because everyone, no not everyone. Just me is always wrong. Never doing enough, not making enough time, or controlling things right. Even now she was sure her mom had a laundry list of things she did wrong. Not up to the Cindy Wessen standard of control and excellence.  

The words Mckenzie spoke landed clean. Final. 

Cindy froze. Her stomach dropped before her mind caught up. 

“No. No, this isn’t how this goes.” Cindy thought. I Just need to get her to understand. If i can just get her listen to some sense. 

“You don’t get to spend years telling me I’m wrong,” McKenzie continued, her voice controlled, measured, “telling me I don’t understand how the world works, that the way I treat Littles is naive or soft…” 

She shook her head slightly. 

“And then turn around and say this now just because it’s happening to you.” 

“Honey, that’s not—” 

“Yes, it is.” 

The interruption came instantly. No hesitation. McKenzie looked at her mother. For so long she would have to listen; she would have to give in and let her mom have her way as she was Cindy Wessen. She was her mother. She would push her will upon McKenzie to where she would just acquiesce to the demand of her mother.  

“You made it very clear what you believed,” McKenzie said. “Littles weren’t people to you. They were something to manage. Something to train. Something that existed to make life easier for everyone else. Littles should be grateful for what they are given. The safety, the security, the housing and food. The work they are allowed to do. The protections their guardians give. Those were all your ideals and beliefs for years and now you stand here and say my bad because all of the sudden you have to live under beliefs and structure you made. Because all of the sudden those rules apply to you and you aren’t sitting above them.” 

Cindy’s hands tightened at her sides. That’s not how I said it. That’s not… But the argument didn’t form. Not fully. Not in a way she could actually say out loud. 

“Everything you built was around that,” McKenzie went on. “Your podcasts, your politics, your fundraisers… all of it.” 

Cindy felt each example land like a receipt being read back to her. 

There was no escaping it. 

No reframing it. 

“So now what?” McKenzie asked. “Now that you’re in it, now that you have to live like that, suddenly it’s more complicated?” 

“McKenzie, please—” 

“No.” 

Softer this time. But worse. 

“You don’t get to come to me now and say you’ve learned something. When all you learned is it sucks when the loss of rights apply to you. When the injustice is your injustice and not someone else’s.” 

Cindy swallowed. 

“I have learned.” Even as she said it, she could hear how it sounded. Thin, Reactive, Too late. 

“Maybe,” McKenzie said. She held Cindy’s gaze. “But you learned too late.” That one didn’t just land. It stayed.  

“Because from where I’m standing,” she continued, “this doesn’t sound like you think Littles deserve better.” Mckenzie said pausing for a minute.  “It sounds like you think you do.” Silence filled the room. 

Cindy felt it settle around her like pressure. That’s not what I meant. That’s not what this is. “That’s not what I’m saying,” she said, quieter now. 

McKenzie didn’t argue the point. She just shifted slightly, grounding herself. “You had a way you believed in,” she said. “And it wasn’t mine.” Greg watched them both. He could see it happening. Not just the argument. The sorting. 

“I tried to meet you somewhere in the middle,” McKenzie continued. “I tried to show you there was another way to handle this, and you made it clear that  it wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t good enough.” 

Cindy looked down. Because it wasn’t. The thought came automatically. And that was the problem. 

“So no,” McKenzie said. “I’m not stepping in now to tell Madison she’s wrong for honoring you by raising you as a little in the lifestyle you always preached and fought for. As by your standards you should be grateful and appreciative to live here. Grateful what Madison provides for you. Isn’t that your belief system?” 
 
Mckenize paused for a moment. “Yeah it is. I thought so. I can see it on your face. It sucks doesn’t it? When you’re told your not good enough. That the person who should care about you the most turns there back on what you believe in.” 

The air tightened. McKenzie stepped closer to the habitat. 

“You can stay here,” she added, glancing briefly at Cindy. “Madison knows how she wants things run with you. You do her homework or whatever so you can keep doing that. Surprisingly her grades are up on her tests which she takes alone. So her overall GPA is actually going up when she is outsourcing the busywork to you. Madison idea’s that while I don’t like all of them seem to work.  She’s not guessing.” 

Then she crouched again. 

“Dad.” 

Greg hesitated. Just for a second. And in that second, everything stacked: 

Cindy. The argument. The truth in what had just been said. The fact that leaving meant choosing something. I’m not choosing. I’m surviving. He stepped forward and climbed onto her hand. 

McKenzie’s fingers curled around him, steady and careful without effort. 

“Dad’s with me,” she said. “He always has been with me.” 

Cindy’s head lifted. That hurt more than anything else so far. 

“I’ll let Madison have time with him when it makes sense,” McKenzie added. “I’m not trying to take him away from her as he’s her dad too.” 

“McKenzie—” 

“When I move out after Madison graduates, he’s coming with me.” 

No emotion. No hesitation. A plan. Cindy felt something inside her drop. 

“We’ll figure out the rest,” McKenzie said. “Calls. Visits. Holidays. Whatever. We’re still a family.” 

She looked at Cindy again. 

“But you’re Madison’s.” The words hung there.  

“You’re Madison’s Little.” Mckenzie said as Cindy flinched. She couldn’t stop it. And she knew McKenzie saw it. 

“And I’m the daughter you never really wanted to understand.” 

Greg felt that one. Felt it land in a place that didn’t belong to either of them anymore. McKenzie shifted her bag onto her shoulder. 

“Come on, Dad.” She turned and started toward the door. 

Greg steadied himself in her hand as the room shifted around him with each step. The scale. The distance. The movement. Behind them, Cindy didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make it worse. At the doorway, McKenzie paused. 

“Try not to stress Madison out today,” she said over her shoulder. “She’s got enough going on.” 

Then she stepped into the hallway. 

The door closed behind her with a soft click. 

And just like that, the room felt empty. 

Not quiet. 

Empty. 

Cindy stood there inside the habitat, staring at the place where they had just been. 

And for the first time since all of this started, there was no version of events she could reach for that made her feel in control. 

Related Images: