Maybe Someday(26)

that I didn’t tell her sooner, but she’s had

a few days to let it sink in, so I think she

gets it. So what time will you be here

Friday?

Maggie: Not sure. I would say it depends

on whether I get enough work done on

my thesis, but I’m not mentioning my

thesis to you ever again. I guess I’ll get

there when I get there.

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Me: Well, then, I guess I’ll see you when I

see you. Love you. Let me know when

you’re on your way.

Maggie: Love you, too. And I know you’re

just concerned. I don’t expect you to

agree with my decisions, but I do want

you to understand them.

Me: I do understand, babe. I do. I love

you.

Maggie: Love you, too.

I drop my head forcefully against the head-

board and rub my palms up and down my face

out of sheer frustration. Of course, I understand

her decision, but I’ll never feel good about it.

She’s so frustratingly determined I seriously

don’t see how I’ll ever get through to her.

I stand up and put my phone into my back

pocket, then walk to my bedroom door. When I

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swing it open, I’m met with a smell that I’m pos-

itive is exactly what heaven will smell like.

Bacon.

Warren looks up at me from the dining-room

table and grins, pointing to his plate full of food.

“She’s a keeper,” he signs. “The eggs suck,

though. I’m only eating them because I don’t

want to complain, or she might never cook for us

again. Everything else is great.” He signs

everything he’s saying without verbalizing it.

Warren usually verbalizes all of his signed com-

munication, out of respect for others around us.

When he doesn’t verbalize, I know he wants our

conversation to remain between the two of us.

Like the silent one we’re having right now

while Sydney’s in the kitchen.

“And she even asked how we liked our cof-

fee,” he signs.

I glance into the kitchen. Sydney smiles, so I

smile back. I’m shocked to see her in a good

mood today. After we got back from our trip to

the store a few days ago, she’s been spending

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most of the time in her room. At one point yester-

day, Warren went in to ask her if she wanted any

dinner, and he said she was on her bed crying, so

he backed out and left her alone. I’ve wanted to

check on her, but there isn’t really anything I can

do to make her feel better. All she can do is give

it time, so I’m glad she’s at least out of bed

today.

“And don’t look right now, Ridge. But did you

see what she’s wearing? Did you see that dress?”

He bites the knuckles on his fist and winces, as if

simply looking at her is causing him actual phys-

ical pain.

I shake my head and take a seat across from

him. “I’ll look later.”

He grins. “I’m so glad her boyfriend cheated

on her. Otherwise, I’d be eating leftover

toothpaste-filled Oreos for breakfast.”

I laugh. “At least you wouldn’t have to brush

your teeth.”

“This was the best decision we’ve ever made,”

he says. “Maybe later we can talk her into

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vacuuming in that dress while we sit on the

couch and watch.”

Warren laughs at his own comment, but I don’t

crack a smile. I don’t think he realizes he signed

and spoke that last sentence. Before I can tell him, a biscuit comes hurtling past my head and

smacks him in the face. He jumps back in shock

and looks at Sydney. She’s walking to the table

with a Don’t mess with me look on her face. She hands me a plate of food, then sets her own plate

down in front of her and takes a seat.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Warren asks. I

nod. He looks at Sydney, and she’s still glaring at

him. “At least I was complimenting you,” he says

with a shrug.

She laughs and nods once, as if he just made a

good point. She picks up her phone and begins to

text. She glances at me briefly, giving her head a

slight shake when my phone vibrates in my pock-

et. She texted me something but apparently

doesn’t want me to make it obvious. I casually

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slide my hand into my pocket and pull my phone

out, then read her text under the table.

Sydney: Don’t eat the eggs.

I look at her and arch an eyebrow, wondering

what the hell is wrong with the eggs. She casu-

ally sends another text while she holds a conver-

sation with Warren.

Sydney: I poured dish soap and baby

powder in them. It’ll teach him not to

write on my forehead again.