Jericho

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Jericho Page 36

by Ann McMan


  “Then it’s good you ran into him today.”

  Maddie nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess it is.”

  Syd walked toward a sideboard table that was filled with framed photographs. In one photo, a pretty, dark-haired child laughed from her perch on the shoulders of a tall man. His light-colored hair was wind-blown and his face looked open and happy. He was very handsome. They stood in front of a small airplane, and the little girl was wearing a pair of headphones that were sizes too large for her. Syd picked up the picture and studied it. “My god, Maddie, this is you, isn’t it?”

  Maddie went to stand just behind her. “Yep—in all my faded glory.” She squinted at the photo. “Looks like I was having a bad hair day.”

  “Is this your father?”

  “Yeah. That’s him,” Maddie said in a soft voice. “This was taken on my seventh birthday. Dad took me for my very first airplane ride. Uncle Art was there—and Celine, of course. I think she took this photo, in fact.”

  “You were adorable.”

  Maddie playfully bumped her. “Whattaya mean I was adorable?”

  Syd sighed and set the photo back into its place on the sideboard. “Forgive my oversight. I must have taken momentary leave of my senses.”

  Maddie nodded with understanding. “I do tend to have that effect on women.”

  Syd rolled her eyes and faced Maddie. “C’mon, Lothario. How about you show me the guest room so we can get our things out of Art’s living room?”

  “Of course. Follow me.” Maddie led Syd up a flight of open stairs to an expansive loft area that was at least half the size of the downstairs living space. It doubled as Art’s home office and library, and its interior walls were lined with enormous, Craftsman-style bookcases. There were several colorful paintings—most were landscapes of the Shenandoah Valley region. Against the far wall, well away from the windows, stood a queen-sized platform bed.

  Maddie looked at Syd shyly and shrugged. “Here we go again.” Syd smiled at her. “Look, Syd . . . I’ll bunk downstairs on the couch. Who knows what time I’ll get back in from the hospital tonight.”

  Syd shook her head as she crossed the room. “Forget it, Stretch. You aren’t going to sit up half the night and then come back here to try and cram that six-foot frame of yours onto a pint-sized love seat.” She pulled her book out of her bag and set it on the nightstand next to the bed. “Besides, Jane and I will sleep better if we know where you are.”

  “How can I refuse an offer like that?”

  “I can’t imagine that you would even try.”

  Maddie smiled and checked her watch. “It’s just now three-thirty. How about I run back over to the hospital for a bit, then come back by here and collect you around six for an early dinner?”

  “That sounds great to me. Maybe we can finally have some time to talk about our evening with your mother.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “On the other hand, maybe I’ll just sleep on a couple of chairs in that waiting room . . .”

  “Nice try. You can’t avoid the topic forever, you know.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  Syd crossed her arms.

  “Okay, okay . . . we’ll talk about it.”

  “Good.”

  Maddie gave her a crooked smile. “Do you want me to leave the car for you?”

  Syd thought about that. “No. I don’t think there’s a thing I could need that I’d have to drive to find.”

  Maddie handed her the extra house key. “Keep this so you can get back inside. I’ll call you from the hospital if anything changes.” Syd nodded and took the key. Maddie turned, and Syd grasped her forearm and held onto it. Maddie looked down at her with a confused expression.

  Syd stepped forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. “I think what you’re doing for this family is wonderful. I’m glad I could be here with you.” She slowly released Maddie’s arm and stepped back.

  Maddie stood there for a moment without speaking, and then she gave Syd a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here, too. See you in a bit.” She turned and walked down the stairs.

  AT SIX-FIFTEEN, Syd’s cell phone rang. It was Maddie.

  “Syd? It’s me. I’m sorry to be late. Jake died about thirty minutes ago. I’ve been here with the family. I just stepped out to call you.”

  Syd’s heart sank. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” There was a pause. “Look, I’ll be here about another hour. Can you wait on me to eat?”

  “Of course. Take your time. I’m not going anyplace.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up.

  Syd walked back out onto Art’s patio and sat down, facing the distant mountains. The sun was starting its slow descent, and the street below her hummed with energy, as pink and gold light reflected off a thousand windowpanes. Her heart went out to the Halsey family—and to Maddie, who she knew would not take the loss of a patient lightly. All in all, it had been an exhausting few days for the complex woman, and Syd was beginning to appreciate how difficult it was for Maddie to let her guard down. She held her emotions under tight regulation and kept people at bay by wielding her extraordinary wit like a light saber.

  She guessed that the last thing Maddie would feel like doing tonight would be going back out in public—especially when going out meant fighting their way through the throngs of raucous university alumni who surely would be crowding every bar and bistro in the city. She watched a group of people on the street below laughing and carousing as they walked toward an outdoor café. Smiling, she picked up her cell phone and headed inside to find Art’s telephone directory.

  MADDIE TAPPED ON the door to Art’s condo a few minutes before seven-thirty. As Syd opened the door, Maddie began to apologize for her lateness when she noticed that Syd was wearing faded jeans and a blue, oversized UVA sweatshirt. Her short, blonde hair was tousled. She looked . . . adorable. Maddie drew her brows together as she looked her up and down.

  “When in Rome?” she asked, with exaggerated confusion.

  Syd smiled. “No . . . I found the sweatshirt hanging in the guest room closet. I guess it’s Art’s version of the complimentary robe.” She pulled Maddie inside and closed the door. “You look like you’re about ready to fall over.”

  “I feel like it.”

  “How are the Halseys?”

  “Exhausted. In shock. They’ve gone home for the night.”

  “How are you?”

  “Glad to be here with you.”

  Syd took her arm and led her outside to the patio. “Well, sit down and take a load off. I picked up a nice bottle of wine on my little outing, and have it all ready for you.”

  Maddie sighed happily as she sank onto a chaise and stretched her long legs out in front of her. “When I grow up, I wanna be a doctor just like you.”

  Syd smiled as she poured her a big glass of Sculpterra Petite Sirah. “Why like me?”

  Maddie took the glass from her. “Because you get to prescribe the fun stuff.”

  Syd filled her own glass and clinked rims with Maddie. “Here’s hoping.”

  Maddie took a sip and slowly rolled her head back against the chaise. “Now that doesn’t suck.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You know, this might be a mistake. I don’t know if you’ll be able to get me up out of this thing to go in search of food.”

  Syd sat down on a chair opposite her. “Hmmm. A conundrum. What’s a girl to do?”

  “Call the local hose, hook, and ladder company?”

  “Nah. Too dramatic. I have a better idea.”

  “You do?” Maddie asked, intrigued.

  “Yep. It’s called the hot bar at Whole Foods Market. Even as we speak, our dinner reposes in the warming drawer of Art’s overpriced Viking range.”

  Maddie gave her a slow grin. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  Syd batted her eyes. “Flatterer.” She stood up. “Why don’t you go change into some more comfortable clothes? I’ll get our dinner ready.�


  MADDIE CHANGED INTO a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans and walked downstairs to explore Art’s impressive CD collection until she found something she liked. Strains of Puccini filled the air as she walked back toward the kitchen area to join Syd.

  Syd was lighting a couple of oil candles that were artfully placed at various locations around the kitchen. She cocked her head. “Is that opera?”

  Maddie shrugged. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

  “You ask that of a violinist?”

  Maddie bowed her head. “A momentary lapse, borne of exhaustion.”

  Syd returned the lighter to its basket on the countertop. “What is this? Puccini?”

  Maddie refilled their wine glasses. “Uh huh. La Rondine—one of my favorites.”

  Syd narrowed her eyes in thought. “La Rondine. That means The Swallow. Right?”

  Maddie was impressed. “You know, you really could make a fortune on Jeopardy.”

  Syd laughed. “No, I remember this one. It has that gorgeous soprano aria with the piano.”

  “The ‘Canzone di Doretta’?”

  “Yes. I once heard Renée Fleming sing that in recital with the Baltimore Symphony. My god, it nearly stopped my heart.”

  Maddie smiled. “Well, it’s supposed to, isn’t it? The story of a young woman whose entire life is transformed by a single kiss. What’s not swoon-worthy in that?”

  They were silent for a moment.

  Syd belatedly turned away and walked to the Viking to retrieve their warm dinner plates.

  SYD DID A better-than-credible job, cobbling a gourmet meal together with her Whole Foods assortments. They dined on rare slices of beef tenderloin with Béarnaise sauce, asparagus and saffron risotto, and an arugula salad with tangy mango dressing. They sat at Art’s bistro-sized kitchen table, finding it more appealing than the massive glass-topped dining table that dominated nearly a quarter of the downstairs living space.

  Maddie was in transports over the meal. “I still can’t believe you did all of this. God, it’s wonderful.”

  Syd smiled at her. “I’m glad you think so. You’re eating like it’s your last meal.”

  Maddie nodded. “Well, if you’ll recall, I didn’t get to enjoy much of my Rhône Valley tour last night.”

  “I recall.” Syd paused. “Celine didn’t seem to eat very much, either.”

  Maddie met her eyes. “Yeah. Next time we decide to do something like that, we should just hit a furniture store and sit around an empty table—it’d be a lot cheaper.”

  Syd handed Maddie another small slice of herbed foccacia. “Do you think there might actually be a next time, or was that suggestion just another opportunity for wit?”

  Maddie regarded her with interest. “Trying to figure me out?”

  “You might say that. And may I add that your instruction manual reads like a bad translation of Proust.”

  Maddie considered this. “Are there any good translations of Proust?”

  “My point, exactly.”

  They laughed.

  Syd sat back and pushed her plate away. “Okay, Doctor. Your number is officially up.”

  Maddie gave her a quizzical look. “Did I just fold space and end up in line at a bakery?”

  “Not even close.”

  Maddie smiled. “Do you think it’s too cold to go sit outside on the patio?”

  Syd stood up. “There’s one way to find out.” She walked through the kitchen and blew out the oil candles.

  They picked up their wine glasses and walked across the living room to the large atrium doors that led out to Art’s veranda. It was a lovely evening—unusually warm for mid-March. Maddie sighed contentedly as she reclaimed her earlier spot and sprawled across the chaise. Syd sat across from her in another chair and pulled its companion ottoman over so she, too, could prop up her feet. They stared at each other in the semi-darkness. Sounds of laughter drifted up from the street below.

  “So,” Maddie’s low voice seemed to float on the night air, “you wanted to talk about last night?”

  “Don’t you?”

  She sighed. “I guess so. I mean, it was all pretty surreal. For most of the evening, Celine was like someone I didn’t even recognize.”

  “Strange,” Syd began, “I had the opposite reaction. To me, she seemed so much like you that I sometimes had a hard time telling you apart.”

  She could feel Maddie’s eyes on her, even though she couldn’t see them distinctly.

  “What do you mean by that?” Maddie’s voice sounded wary.

  “I mean, that apart from some pretty astonishing physical similarities, the two of you have more in common than I expected.”

  “Like?” Maddie sounded uncertain.

  “Like the fact that you’re both uncommonly intelligent, witty to the point of distraction—and charming when you choose to be. And the fact that neither of you is satisfied with the current state of your relationship. That much was perfectly clear to me.”

  “You got all of that out of one, four-course meal?” Maddie chortled. “Move over, Dr. Phil.”

  “For once, try to be serious. Think you can manage that . . . for me?”

  Maddie expelled a long breath. “I’ll try. This isn’t easy for me.”

  “I know, Stretch.”

  They were silent for a few moments.

  “Okay,” Maddie said with resignation. “I admit that maybe I’m not as immune to Celine as I postured.” She paused. “And I’ll also admit that, yes, it does still chap my ass that she walked out on us without even a backwards glance . . . and that she has never tried to apologize, or explain her actions. Ever.”

  Syd laid a comforting hand on Maddie’s ankle. “Boy . . . when you finally decide to open up, you don’t mess around, do you?”

  Maddie shook her head slowly. “Nuh uh. Be careful what you wish for. There’s no going back once you open Pandora’s box.”

  “That might be true, but as I recall, the best thing in Pandora’s box was hope.”

  Maddie snorted. “Sure, and you got to it right after you fought your way through a litany of evils that stretched from here to Athens,” she hesitated, “or Los Angeles.”

  “Well, maybe the two of you made some progress along that road last night.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “Someday, I’d like to see the list of things you would count on.”

  “It’s short,” Maddie said after a moment. Syd could hear the smile in her voice. “Only has three items.”

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  “Sure.” Maddie held up her fingers and ticked the items off. “Number one: My dog. Science has shown that there is nothing known to man more trustworthy than a golden retriever. Number two: My unwavering belief in the indefatigability and resilience of the human spirit. Number three: You.” She paused. “That last one is a recent addition.”

  Syd was glad the darkness hid her blush.

  “And you know, I don’t think I’m alone in my assessment. Celine seemed pretty taken with you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think she was more taken with the idea of me—as your girlfriend.”

  “Hard to argue with her about that.”

  Syd waved her hand in frustration. “Are you just trying to make me blush, or is this some new alternative energy scheme you’re using to light up the night sky?”

  Maddie laughed. “You asked for it, Goldilocks. It wasn’t my idea to parade in there like Ellen and Portia.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, you didn’t seem to have any problems warming to the idea, did you?”

  “Hey, I’m only human. If a great looking woman chooses to lay one on me, I’m certainly not gonna ignore it.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Well, thank god you did. I’d hate to think I’ve lost my touch at the ripe old age of thirty-four.”

  “Trust me,” Syd demurred. “Your reputation remains intact.”

  They fell silent again, but were kept company by the lively sounds emanating from the
street below.

  They remained outside until they finished their wine.

  Maddie tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn.

  “Tired?” Syd asked, gently.

  “Yeah. It’s been a tough couple of days.”

  “I know. Why don’t you go get ready for bed? I’ll clear away our dishes.”

  Maddie swung her legs around and sat up. “Normally, I’d argue with you, but I’m really about ready to nod off.”

  Syd stood up. “Go on ahead. I’ll be up shortly.”

  When Syd climbed the stairs a few minutes later, Maddie had already changed into her sleepwear, and was safely tucked away under the covers on the extreme right edge of the bed. Syd laughed at her ridiculous position. “Think you’ll be safe all the way over there?”

  Maddie raised a sleepy eyebrow. “I thought I’d give this bed a fighting chance at retaining its virtue. Maybe it will fare better than the one in Richmond.”

  Syd smiled to herself as she picked up her pajamas and headed for the bathroom. When she emerged, she thought Maddie was already asleep. Quietly, she turned off the light and climbed into the bed, being careful not to disturb Maddie. After a few minutes, she heard Maddie sigh.

  “This’ll never work.”

  Syd turned her head to look at Maddie’s profile, dimly outlined against the darker wall behind them. “What do you mean?” she asked, quietly.

  “I’m trying too hard to keep vigilant over here. I’ll never get to sleep at this rate.” She started to get up. “I think I should just go crash on the sofa.”

  Syd put out a restraining hand. “No way. You’re exhausted.” She pushed Maddie back down and, without ceremony, rolled over to stretch out half on top of her. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she murmured.

  “What are you doing?” Maddie asked, sounding stunned.

  “Saving us each from a sleepless night. Don’t worry,” she smiled against Maddie’s neck, “we’ll have lots of time to regret this when we get back to Jericho.”

  Maddie slowly let out the breath she had been holding and wrapped her arms around Syd. “Speak for yourself, blondie.”

  They both were sound asleep in minutes.

 

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