by Ann McMan
“Thanks. I could use it.” He winked at her before reclaiming his seat next to the fireplace.
“If this drizzle keeps up, it’s going to be impossible to get out later.” Janet was looking out the big front window toward the street. “We should call Marsh and see if he wants to plan on going to Mass tomorrow morning instead of at midnight.”
“Go on and call him. I’m not going anyplace tonight.” George stretched his legs out on the ottoman in front of his chair. “Too bad all we’re getting out of this storm is ice. They’re getting tons of snow further west.” He glanced at Syd. “Good thing you aren’t leaving until Sunday. You might have trouble navigating those mountain roads any time sooner.”
Syd gazed back at her father. She hadn’t told them yet that she’d decided to leave early. And now wasn’t the time. Tomorrow. She’d tell them tomorrow.
“It’s probably good that Maddie didn’t try to get up here tonight,” he continued. “Although I sure do wish she’d been able to join us. Not to mention, it would have been nice to have had her remove my stitches.” He glowered at his wife as he plucked absently at the palm of his right hand, and the loose pieces of dried skin that lined the path of his healing cut. Janet had grabbed his hand without ceremony that morning, and quickly cut and removed his stitches with a pair of kitchen shears.
“Yeah. Just when do I get to check out this gorgeous brainiac?” Tom asked.
Syd looked at him. “Never.”
He looked crestfallen. “Why not?” He turned to his father for support. “She’s single, right? And hot? Why wouldn’t she want to meet me?”
“For starters,” Syd began, “She has an I.Q. well into the triple digits. That’d make conversation a little tough for you.”
He snorted. “Who said anything about talking? There are all kinds of ways to communicate. Right, Dad?”
George seemed to think about that. “In this case, son, I think you’re way out of your league.”
Syd was pleased with that answer and looked smugly at her brother. “Told you.”
“Oh come on. Like you’d be one to judge. I bet I could have her eating out of my hand in ten minutes. Hell, I nearly had her there on the phone the other day, and we only talked for two seconds.” He paused. “She’s got a hot voice, by the way. I mean, like phone sex operator quality.”
“Uh huh. And you can make this comparison, how, exactly?” Syd asked.
“Hey, Mother Theresa. Don’t blame me for having a healthy libido. You’re just a frustrated prude, and you wouldn’t know what to do with it if it fell into your lap.”
Syd opened her mouth, but thought better of it. How could she tell her little brother what she didn’t understand herself—that finally she was beginning to inch closer to knowing exactly what she’d like to do with “it.” The problem was that “it” wasn’t anywhere near her lap, or any other part of her life experience. It remained indistinct and out of reach, and probably always would.
Tom took her silence as acquiescence and prattled on. “Don’t worry, though. There’s probably another loser like Jeff Simon out there, just pining for you to notice him.”
“That’s enough, Tom.” Janet’s voice was sharp.
Syd raised her head and looked at her mother with surprise. “It’s okay, Mom. He’s right.” She shook her head slowly. “I was an idiot to marry him. Why pretend otherwise?”
Tom set his glass down and leaned forward in his chair. “Hey, Syd, I’m sorry. Really. That was uncalled for. I didn’t mean it to come out that way—honest.” His eyes were round and soft. “Jeff was a jerk. He never knew what he had in you. I’d like to punch his damn lights out for hurting you.”
She gave her brother a small smile. “I allowed myself to be hurt. It’s not all his fault. But that’s all behind me now. I won’t make a mistake like that again.” Not ever, she thought. Not even if I spend the rest of my life alone.
“Well, I’ll drink to that.” George got to his feet. “Who else would like a refill?” He collected glasses and headed for the kitchen.
Syd sat in silence, along with her mother and brother, trying to push down aggravating thoughts about Jeff. George returned a few minutes later with a small tray with three fresh glasses of eggnog. He had a cordless phone cradled between his shoulder and right ear, and was having an animated conversation with someone. Syd hadn’t heard the phone ring, so it was clear that he had placed the call. She assumed it was to her uncle, and concerned plans for their midnight Mass outing.
George set the tray down on his ottoman and distributed the drinks. He was laughing. “I’m not kidding you. She used kitchen shears. Can you believe it? The same ones she uses to cut up chicken breasts. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get lockjaw or something.”
Syd was perplexed. Who was he talking to? Across the room, her mother rolled her eyes and took a healthy sip from her glass.
“That’s what I told her,” he gushed. “But she said that you would’ve done it the same way if you’d been here.” He walked to the fireplace and picked up the poker to rotate the top log. “How did all of that emergency business work out? Are the little boys doing better?”
Oh, my god. Syd felt her face grow hot. He’s talking to Maddie. He called Maddie. Jesus. Her pulse began to race. She took a big gulp of her eggnog to try and compose herself. She needed to look indifferent. She needed to feel indifferent. She needed to go outside and stand in the rain until she cooled off.
“I’m glad to hear that,” George said. “We’re so sorry, though, that you couldn’t be here to join us.” His eyes tracked across the room to light on Syd. He watched her face as he listened to the voice on the phone. “She’s fine. She’s right here, in fact, looking like she’s about to pass out from the heat of this fire I’ve got going. Hold on a second, and you can say hello to her.” He held the phone out to Syd. “Here, honey. Why don’t you take this out on the porch and cool off while you two talk?”
Syd didn’t know whether she wanted to fling her arms around her father’s neck in gratitude or bolt from the room. Instead, she reached for the telephone and stood up to make her way to the front door. Her mother intercepted her and handed her a folded afghan. “It’s cold out there. Bundle up if you decide to sit down.”
Syd took the throw and smiled at her mother as she opened the big front door and stepped out onto the porch. She pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello there,” she said, finally. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She sat down on the swing and wrapped herself in the warmth and familiarity of Maddie’s quiet laughter, forgetting entirely about the blanket in her arms.
SYD’S PLANS FOR returning to Jericho changed again when she told her parents about her decision to leave on Friday instead of Sunday. They protested at first, but it soon became clear to Syd that they realized she actually was anxious to go. She was anxious—and excited. And she knew that excited was an emotion neither of them had seen in her for too long. They quickly made peace with the change in plans, but suggested that she consider driving back with her brother, instead of flying.
Tom had planned to leave on Friday all along. He was a graduate student at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg—only an hour-and-a-half north of Jericho.
Janet had a large bag of clothing, a desk lamp, and a box of assorted kitchen utensils she wanted Syd to take home with her, so the prospect of having Tom drive her back held great appeal. Syd struggled with the decision. Her car was parked at the Raleigh airport, so she would have the later ordeal of prevailing upon someone to drive her there to retrieve it. And, frankly, she wasn’t certain that she felt up to spending six hours in the car with her brother.
“Look,” Tom said. “Why don’t you just go ahead and fly, and I’ll run your stuff down to you on Saturday? I’d like to see the library, anyway. So I can drop your things off, and be back at Tech before the Duke game on Saturday night.”
Syd was surprised by his generous offer. “Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “Yeah
. I feel bad that I wasn’t around to help you when you moved. Lemme at least do this.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks, then. I’d really appreciate it. I don’t want to have to ask anyone to drive me all the way to Raleigh to get my car.”
“Yeah, what up with that? Why didn’t you leave out of Charlotte? It’s a damn sight closer to Jericho than Raleigh. Shit, by the time you to got to Raleigh, you were halfway here.”
“Not quite,” she said. “And I wanted to get some work-related stuff out of my storage unit there. Besides, I’m flying free on rewards miles, and Southwest doesn’t go into Charlotte.”
“Whatever. Let’s get your shit packed up. I want to be on the road by noon.”
IT SNOWED AGAIN on Saturday. Hard. Tom finally reached the tiny hamlet of Jericho a little before two and pulled into the lot next to the old storefront building that housed the library and Syd’s apartment.
Syd met him at the street door. “God, I was so worried. I tried to call you on your cell phone, but it kept rolling to voice mail.”
He smiled apologetically. “Yeah. I left it at my girlfriend’s house this morning. Not the best day for that. If I’d gotten stuck in this, I’d have been screwed.” He carried a large, taped-up box and a Hefty bag full of clothing. Syd took the box from him and led the way up the stairs to her small apartment.
“I can’t believe you still came. You’re not going to get back out of here today.”
“Sure I can. I don’t think it can continue at this rate much longer. I’ll just hang out for an hour or so, and then head on back.”
They entered the apartment and closed the door against the frigid air sweeping up the stairs from the street.
Syd put the box down on her kitchen table. “I wouldn’t count on it. I’ve been watching the Weather Channel, and what we’re seeing now is just the leading edge of a larger system that’s moving in. By tonight, we’re going to be in full-fledged whiteout mode. They’re predicting ten to twelve inches before it tapers off tomorrow morning.” She turned to him. “You’re stuck here,” she smiled demonically, “with your evil big sister.”
“Great.” He shrugged out of his leather jacket and looked around her tiny, furnished apartment. “Jeez, Syd. This is the best they could do for you?”
“Well, as Faye Dunaway once said, ‘These accommodations ain’t particularly de-luxe.’ ”
He looked at her. “Bonnie and Clyde, right?”
She smiled at him.
“Some day, you need to see a movie that was actually made in this century.”
“Yeah, well, you got the reference.” She walked into the kitchen area and took two mugs out of a cupboard. “Want some coffee?”
He nodded. “I only got the reference because it was just on TCM during Gangster Week. Dad watched it about ten times. He drove Mom nuts.”
“Apparently you did, too.”
“What? Drive Mom nuts?”
“Well, that goes without saying. I meant that apparently, you watched the movie, too.”
He sat down on a straight chair. “Sure. Faye Dunaway was pretty hot in those days.” He picked at a loose piece of tape on the outside of the big box their mother had packed for Syd. “I’d do her.”
Syd snorted. “You’d do a hole in a tree.”
He sighed and looked at his watch. “This is going well. I’ve been here all of four minutes, and we’re already insulting each other.”
She laughed. “See why I didn’t want to spend six hours in a car with you?” She handed him a mug of coffee.
“Well, since it looks like you now get to spend the entire night with me, you may live to regret that decision.” He sipped his coffee. “What smells so good?”
“Chili. I started a big pot this morning. It seemed like a good day for it.”
“Sweet. Chili and basketball.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on. I have a ticket to the Duke game tonight. There’s no way I’m not gonna at least watch it in on TV.”
“What makes you think it’s going to be televised?”
He gave her a withering look.
“Fine. Fine. Watch your precious basketball game. I’m supposed to go out, anyway.”
He looked at her with interest. “Oh yeah? What about the impending whiteout conditions?”
“I don’t have that far to go.” She walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. He stood up and joined her, sinking into the room’s only upholstered chair. “But, you’re right. If this keeps up, I’ll probably have to stay in, too.”
“So what is this?” he asked. “A date?”
“Hardly.”
“Why are you acting so squirrelly?”
She looked at him. “I am not acting squirrelly.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“Are tooooooooo.”
“Shut up, Tom. It’s not a date. I was just going over to a friend’s house for dinner.”
“Uh huh. And that’s why you’re cooking chili—because you’re going out for dinner?”
“In fact, I am taking the chili with me. And if you keep acting like a complete ass, I won’t leave any here for you.”
“Okay, okay. Truce.” He took another sip of his coffee. “So. Who’s the friend?”
“God, Tom. You’re worse than Mom.”
He looked at her in mock horror. “That was a low blow.”
She relented. “It’s Maddie.”
“Maddie?”
She nodded.
“Maddie, as in, I’m a six-foot tall, gorgeous hunk of woman with blue eyes and a genius IQ? That Maddie?”
“Where do you get your information?”
He looked back at her without speaking.
She sighed. “Dad. God.” She shook her head. “You guys are so much alike, it’s scary.”
“Wrong on both counts, Margaret. I Googled her ass.” His eyes grew thoughtful. “And what a fine one it is.”
“You did what?”
“Don’t act so offended, Miss Research-Is-My-Life. It’s not like you’ve never done this.”
“You’re so full of shit. Stalking people online hardly constitutes research.”
“Yeah, well, to each his own. It was an hour well spent, lemme tell you. She was the editor of some hoity-toity med school journal at Penn, and there are lots of pictures of her up on that site, and several from some conferences she participated in while she was still working in Philadelphia. Oh, and apparently she was some kind of high school track star—hardly surprising with those legs.”
Syd was incredulous. “You’re really starting to scare me now.”
“I’d send you the links, but there’s really no need. You get to experience it all in the flesh . . . so to speak.”
“You’re such a perv.”
“How does having a healthy sexual appetite make me a perv?”
“This has nothing to do with having a healthy sexual appetite. This is just creepy—like going through someone’s underwear drawer.”
He sat back and regarded her. “Interesting segue, Sis. How’d we make the leap from looking at public photos of her online to sniffing her underwear?”
Syd felt herself blush. “I didn’t say anything about sniffing her underwear.”
“No, but that’s what you meant.”
“I did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Then why are you blushing?”
“You’re a perv and an asshole.”
The phone rang. Shaking her head at her brother one last time, Syd got up to answer it. She recognized the number on the caller I.D.
“Hello?”
“Enjoying our reprise of White Christmas?” Maddie asked. “I hope you know we arranged this little curtain call just for you.”
Syd laughed. “You’re too kind.”
“I’m really not, but it works out well for me that you think so. How was the drive back?”
“Not too bad—long. Boring. But
I got the things I needed in Raleigh, so it saved me from having to make a trip back over there next month.”
“Good. Are you still up for coming by later?”
Syd looked out her front window. The street below was rapidly blending into the rest of the white landscape. “I don’t know. What do you think? It’s looking pretty ominous out there. If I come over, I might have to stay until spring.”
“Hmmm.” Maddie paused a moment. “How much chili did you make?”
Syd smiled. “A lot.”
“I’ll take my chances, then.” She paused again. “Why don’t I come and pick you up? I’ve got 4-wheel drive in the Jeep, and I’m more accustomed to driving on these roads in the snow.”
“That could work.”
“I do think we should do it sooner rather than later. I want to make a good set of tire tracks on my lane while I can still see it.”
Syd glanced at her brother, who was watching her with undisguised interest. “There is one other thing I need to share with you.”
“What’s that?”
“My obnoxious little brother picked today to drive down here from Blacksburg with a pile of stuff my mother sent back for me. It’s pretty clear that he isn’t gonna be going back tonight.”
“Well, bring him with you. I’d love to meet him. Unless, of course, you think you should stay at home and do family-bonding-types-of-things. I don’t want to intrude on that.”
“God, no. I’ve had enough family bonding to last me until Shrove Tuesday.”
“Well then, what’s the problem?”
“Basketball.”
“Basketball?”
“Hokie basketball.”
“Oh . . . that. He wants to watch the Duke game tonight?”
Syd sighed. “How do you know everything?”
“I know I’ll regret admitting to you that I really don’t. In fact, I’ve been sitting around here flipping channels for about two hours, waiting to call you. I saw about twenty ads on ESPN for the game.”
“Why did you wait two hours to call?”