Maybe Now (Maybe #2)(75)
Sydney immediately stops the song and restarts it from the beginning. She pulls up the lyrics on Google and reads along as the song plays.
For A Little While
I don’t know what you want but you do
If you told me I would make it true
Oh, for a little while
Oh, for a little while
Something changes when the sunlight shines
Shadows fall out of my worried mind
Things go right and then I feel just fine
You and me will be just one tonight
Oh, for a little while
Oh, for a little while
You know for a little while
Oh, for a little while
For a little while I feel okay
For a little while I float away
For a little while I can stay
For a little while I’m on my way
For a little while I’ll be alright
For a little while I’ll be outside
For a little while I’ll be okay
I’ll be okay
For a little while
For a little while
For a little while
When the song ends, she closes out the lyrics and lifts a hand to her eyes, presumably to wipe away a tear. I stroke her hair with my fingers while she types.
Sydney: Why have you never told me this song is about us?
I inhale a breath and release it, pulling my hand from her hair so I can respond to her.
Ridge: It’s the first song that was inspired by you while I was still with Maggie. It was innocent between us because we had never even spoken at the time, but the sentiment still made me feel guilty. This song was my truth and I think I tried to hide it, even from myself.
Sydney: I can understand that. In a way, the song kind of makes me sad for you. Like you were living a life you needed a break from.
Ridge: Almost everyone needs a break from their real life every now and then. I was content with my life before I met you. You know that.
Sydney: Are you still content with your life?
Ridge: No. I was content before I met you. But now I’m deliriously happy with my life.
I lean forward and press a kiss into Sydney’s hair. She leans back and gives me access to her lips, but from an upside-down angle. I kiss her, and she laughs against my mouth before lifting her head and returning her attention back to her keyboard.
Sydney: My father used to say, “A life of mediocrity is a waste of a life.” I used to hate that he would say that because he only said it to prove a point to me about how he didn’t think I should become a music teacher. But I think I get it now. I’ll be content with becoming a music teacher. But he wanted me to be passionate about my career. I always thought that was enough—to just be content. But now I’m scared it’s not.
Ridge: Are you thinking about changing your major?
Sydney nods, but she doesn’t type her response.
Ridge: To what?
Sydney: I’ve been thinking lately about going into psychology. Or counseling of some form. I’m just so far into my degree that I would practically have to start over.
Ridge: People’s passions change. It happens. I think if you really see yourself in a different line of work other than being a music teacher, it’s better it happens now than ten years into the future. And…for what it’s worth…I think you would be an amazing psychologist. You’re good with music, no doubt. But you’re incredible with people. You could even combine the two majors and do music therapy.
Sydney: Thank you. But I don’t know. Starting over just seems so daunting, especially because I’ll need to get my master’s degree. Which means I’ll be struggling financially for another five years. Which will become your issue, too, if we ever move in together. I won’t have much money to contribute to the bills. It’s just a lot to think about. If I stick with my current major, I’ll be done in less than a year.
Ridge: We don’t need much to get by. I think it’s more important that you do what your heart is telling you to do. As long as you’re doing what you really want to do, I’ll do whatever I need in order to help you see it through to the end. Whether that’s next year with a teaching degree or ten years and a doctorate from now.
Sydney: I’m adding that to my “Things Ridge says” folder. In case I have to revert back to it in the future. Because if I change majors, I’m going to be really broke. So broke, I won’t even be able to buy new clothes. I’ll be wearing this same shirt five years from now.
Ridge: Even if your clothes are faded, they’ll always look new on you.
I feel her laugh.
Sydney: Oh, that’s a good line. You should put that line in a song.
Ridge: I will. I promise.
She slides her laptop off her lap and flips over, climbing up me. She kisses me.“Do you want some ice cream? I want dessert.”
I shake my head. “I’ll just take a bite of yours.”
She kisses me again and then stands and walks to the kitchen. I readjust myself on the couch and open up a text to Warren.
Ridge: What time are we leaving tomorrow?
Warren: I dunno. Let me open up a group text and ask Maggie.