Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(48)

I kick him under the table and he just laughs, then folds his arms over the table and speaks his next sentence. “You feel like writing something tonight?”

I shake my head. “I’m on a date with my girlfriend.”

Brennan’s shoulder’s slump, and he falls back against the booth. Sydney looks back and forth between me and Brennan.

“A song?” she says. “You want to write a song tonight?”

Brennan shrugs. “Why not? I need more material and I’m in the mood. My guitar is in my car.”

Sydney perks up and starts nodding. “Please, Ridge? I want to watch you two write a song.”

Brennan nods. “Please, Ridge?”

Brennan’s begging does nothing to change my mind, but that’s only because Sydney’s begging already changed it. Besides, the whole time I’ve been on this date with Sydney, song lyrics have been swirling around in my head. Better to get them out now while I’m feeling it.

I pay the check, and we go outside to head back to the apartment, but Brennan points across the street at a park. He runs to his car and retrieves his guitar and stuff to write with. The three of us walk over to the park and find two benches across from each other. Brennan sits on one, and Sydney and I sit on the other.

Brennan turns his guitar over and presses the notepad to it. He writes on it for a few minutes and then hands it over to me. He’s written out the music to a chorus he’s working on, but there are no lyrics. I spend several minutes studying it. I can see Brennan and Sydney having a conversation while I look over the music and try to figure out how to add the first line of the chorus. He signs the first part of the conversation, but when he sees I’m not paying attention to either of them, he stops signing and they continue the conversation. I like that they’re holding a conversation without me. It’s not like the conversations people have where they forget to sign for me. It’s just a conversation they’re having because they know I need a while to focus on this song.

I think back to mine and Sydney’s conversation from earlier, and how she expressed a fear that I would someday take Maggie back because I want to fix everything going wrong in Maggie’s life. I try to work that into a couple of sentences, but nothing sticks. I close my eyes and try to recall the exact words I said to her.

“I would be broken without you. Then who would fix me?”

I read that sentence over and over again. “Who would fix me?”

This is how I sometimes build a foundation for my lyrics. I think of a person. I think of a conversation with that person, or a thought I have about that person. And then I ask myself a question about that thought, then build a line of lyrics around the answer.

So…who would fix me? The only person who could mend my shattered heart would be Sydney.

I find my sweet spot in that answer and write down the lyric, “You’re the only one who fixes me.”

I tap my pencil on the page in the tempo of the music that Brennan wrote out for me. Brennan picks up his guitar and watches my pencil, then starts to play. I can see Sydney out of the corner of my eye as she pulls her knees up on the bench and wraps her arms around them, watching us. I look at her for a moment, waiting for thoughts of her to inspire another line. What do I want her to know when she hears this song?

I write down several sentences in no particular order, and none of them rhyme, but they all remind me of Sydney. I’ll build around them in a moment and make each of them into verses. I just need to get out the basic things I’m thinking.

“There was a truth in you from the start.”

“I think you’re pretty when you speak.”

“I bring the mess and you bring the clean.”

“Time will come and you will see. You’re the only one who fixes me.”

I look up from the page, and Brennan is still playing, working through the tempo of the song that I just laid his chorus out to. Sydney is watching me, smiling. It’s all I need to finish the lyrics. I move to the bench with Brennan and show him the lyrics, matched up with his chorus. He starts tweaking it while I finish the lyrics.

Almost an hour later, we have a complete song. It’s the fastest the two of us have ever written together. Brennan hasn’t sung any of the lyrics out loud yet for her, so I move to the bench with her and pull her against me before he plays her the full song. He begins strumming his guitar, and she wraps an arm around me, leaning her head against my shoulder.



Wake up early, go to bed late

That’s what I do, that’s my mistake

Tell me something and I forget

I’m not perfect, I’m far from it



I’m out the door 15 too late

Thinking I’m early, but I make you wait

Don’t wash my dishes for a week

But I think you’re pretty when you speak



Ask around, you’ll figure out

You’re the one I’m thinking ‘bout

Time will come and you will see

You’re the only one who fixes me

You’re the only one who fixes me



I bring the mess and you bring the clean

I think you’re funny when you’re mean

There was a truth in you from the start

And nothing can break this hold on my heart



Ask around, you’ll figure out