Jericho

by Ann McMan

  Maddie exhaled and leaned forward, so that her elbows rested on top her knees. “Well, thank god for that. I was afraid you’d be . . . confused. Or angry.”

  “Angry? God, no.” Syd looked down at her feet, perched on the bench seat. Her shoes were stained with black soot. “I’d be lying if I said I could forgive him for all he’s done, but he didn’t deserve to die because of it.”

  They were silent for a moment.

  Maddie covered Syd’s hand with her own and gave it a squeeze. Syd looked up at her, and Maddie smiled. “I love you, you know that?”

  Syd nodded. “Yeah. I kinda figured that out.”

  “Besides,” Maddie continued, “you were the real hero tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?” Syd was incredulous.

  “You saved Lizzy. And even after you knew that Beau had started the fire, you still jumped right in to help me try and save him.”

  Syd shook her head. “Nice try, but all the heroics belong to you. You were amazing. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “I don’t deserve any special credit for that. I was only doing what I’ve been trained to do. It’s automatic.” She pulled Syd closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But you . . . What you did shows a depth of character that defies description. At least, it does for me.”

  Syd buried her head beneath Maddie’s chin. “You’re nuts.”

  Maddie snorted. “There you go with the scientific analysis again.”

  Syd laughed. “I thought you said you liked that? Are you changing your mind?”

  “Nuh uh.” Maddie kissed her on the top of her head. “When it comes to you, I’ll never change my mind.”

  “I have something else to thank you for,” Syd said quietly.

  “What’s that?” Maddie asked.

  “It was your text message coming in that saved us. The sound of the phone buzzing distracted Beau and gave me the chance I needed to hit him.”

  Maddie tugged her closer, but didn’t reply.

  Headlights flashed as a car approached, and they turned around in time to see Maddie’s Jeep pulling up and parking behind Beau’s pickup truck. It was followed by another police car.

  “Thank god.” Syd sighed. “I just wanna go home, crawl into bed, and pretend this day never happened.”

  “Um, Syd—about that. You know it’s probably going to be a while before you can . . .”

  Syd placed her fingertips against Maddie’s lips. She gave her a small smile. “I want to go home—with you.” She lowered her hand, hopped down off the table, and walked toward the Jeep.

  THEY CLIMBED OUT of the Jeep and walked hand in hand to the big porch, while Pete ran in tight, happy circles around them. Once inside, they dropped their jackets and keys and stood facing each other in the kitchen. Syd looked exhausted.

  Maddie ran a hand gently along the injured side of her face. “Why don’t you go on up and hop in the shower? I’ll turn off these lights and be right behind you.”

  Syd leaned into her hand. “Promise?”

  Maddie nodded.

  Syd drew Maddie’s face down to hers with both hands and kissed her softly. “Find me something to sleep in?”

  “I think I can manage that.” Maddie smiled and kissed the tip of her nose.

  Syd dropped her hands and turned toward the back stairs that led up to Maddie’s bedroom. Maddie watched her disappear around the corner before going through the house, turning off lights.

  “C’mon, Pete!” She gave a short whistle, and Pete ran down the long center hallway, carrying a natty-looking tennis ball in his mouth. “Bedtime.” The big dog raced her to the back stairs, bounded up ahead of her, and dropped with a huff into his oval-shaped dog bed. He tipped his head back as he chewed contentedly on his prize.

  The light was on in her bathroom, and she could hear the shower running. Syd had neatly folded her clothes and stacked them on a low bench that sat just outside the bathroom door. Maddie deliberated only a moment before deciding to join her. She shed her clothing and pulled on an oversized terrycloth robe that hung on the back of the door. She entered the large bathroom, opened her medicine cabinet, and took out a bottle of antiseptic rinse and some butterfly bandages.

  “Knock, knock?” She turned and tapped on the shower door. “Would it be all right if I joined you long enough to take a closer look at that cut on your face?”

  Syd’s naked form was plainly visible through the glass shower door. Against her will, Maddie felt the prick of arousal. As Syd moved toward the door, she realized that maybe this wasn’t the best idea—they both were overtired and emotionally drained. Then the door popped open, and a wet arm grabbed her by the lapel of her robe.

  “What took you so long? Get in here. It feels wonderful.”

  Shrugging and sighing happily, Maddie dropped her robe and stepped into the cocoon of heat and steam. The corner shower had jets on both of its walls, and the pulsating, hot water felt marvelous on her tired muscles. Syd felt marvelous on her tired muscles. Syd’s wet body moving against hers felt so marvelous that soon her muscles weren’t feeling tired at all.

  Syd moved her hands through Maddie’s hair, massaging her scalp, then squeezing the soap out as she tipped her head back under a spray of water. Maddie was basking in the luxurious attention.

  “Hey, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” she said, as Syd finished washing her hair and ran the washcloth around in slow circles over her breasts.

  Syd leaned forward and laid a series of small kisses across her chest. “You are taking care of me.” She dropped the cloth and moved into Maddie’s arms. “I need this. I need you.”

  Maddie pulled her closer. “You have me.” She lowered her head, and they kissed deeply, eventually staggering back against the shower wall. Syd’s hands seemed to be every place at once. Maddie threw her head back and gasped. “Good god.” She ran her hands down Syd’s back and grasped her bottom, desperate for anything to hold on to. Syd’s lips were now working their way back up her neck. Her tongue was teasing the outside of an ear. “Baby, please. My knees are about to give out. Let’s go to bed. I think I’m clean enough.”

  Syd drew back and looked at her though a haze of steam. Her green eyes were smoldering. “Really? Then let’s go and see what we can do to make you good and dirty again.”

  Maddie threw the lever on the shower valve, shutting the sprays of water off. Every part of her body felt alive. “I thought you were tired?”

  Syd backed toward the door and tugged her along. “I seem to have rebounded.”

  “Apparently.” Maddie sighed dramatically as she allowed herself to be led forward.

  They quickly toweled themselves off and combed through their wet heads of hair. In the white light of the bathroom, Syd’s face didn’t look as bad as it had earlier. It was clear that she’d be sporting a class-A shiner, but now that the blood was cleared away, her small cut looked fine. Maddie carefully wrapped Syd up in her discarded robe, picked her up, and carried her into the bedroom.

  Syd wound her arms around her neck and nuzzled her ear. “Now this is what I call room service.”

  Maddie deposited her on the bed and slowly climbed up to straddle her.

  “Are you gonna get me some jammies?” Syd asked with an impish smile.

  Maddie yanked off the towel she had loosely wrapped around her own body and tossed it to the floor. “I don’t think so.”

  Syd was plainly struggling to remain coherent as Maddie leaned over her and propped up on her forearms. Her dark hair fell around Syd’s face like a wet curtain.

  “Do you want jammies?” Maddie asked, low and husky.

  Syd looked up at her, then put her hands and her mouth to good use. Maddie thought she was doing a commendable job and gasped and moaned as she found release.

  Then she rolled Syd over and returned the favor.

  Wrapped up together under the big, star-patterned quilt, they finally fell asleep—safe and warm, and confident that, toge
ther, they had pushed back the darkness that had swirled around them all evening.

  AS THEY SLEPT, Maddie’s cell phone vibrated in its resting place below them on the kitchen table. Miles away, under the bright lights of an ICU ward equipped with every medical advantage, Beau Pitzer suffered another heart attack. This time, he did not survive.

  MADDIE LEFT EARLY the next morning. Fortunately, she was scheduled for a lighter day than normal, but knew that with Lizzy out, she’d be seeing all of the patients herself. She kissed Syd goodbye a little before eight and encouraged her to stay in bed a while longer. She promised to head home in the early afternoon so they could go together into town to meet with the fire marshal and review the condition of the library and Syd’s upstairs apartment.

  When she ventured downstairs, she listened to her messages. She stood for a few moments in the quiet of the kitchen before going back upstairs to tell Syd the difficult news about Beau. They sat in silence, not really knowing what to say or how to feel.

  Maddie finally suggested that she intended to talk with Gladys and reassure her that Beau’s death was unrelated to his gunshot wounds. In addition to everything else she would have to contend with, she didn’t want Gladys wrestling with responsibility for that, too.

  AFTER MADDIE LEFT, Syd couldn’t fall back asleep, so she wandered around the big farmhouse kitchen with a cup of coffee and made mental lists of all the questions she needed to ask related to recovery from the fire. What kind of help would be forthcoming from Richmond? What sort of insurance did the county carry on the facility? How much of her collection would be salvageable? Where did one go locally for disaster relief services? Would she be able to enter her apartment and get her clothes? Her books? Her computer? Who should she contact in Richmond to relate what all had transpired?

  This is ridiculous, she thought. I need a notepad.

  She refilled her cup from the pot of coffee Maddie had left her, went into the downstairs study, and looked around for a pen and a pad of paper. She found an empty legal pad on top of the desk, next to a bronze lamp with a mica shade. Behind the lamp was a framed photo of Maddie with her father—clearly taken at her med school graduation.

  Maddie stood tall and beautiful, resplendent in a black gown faced with dark green velvet and a trio of wide green crossbars on the sleeve. She was hanging on to her father’s arm affectionately—her head thrown back in laughter and smiling that trademark smile of hers that made Syd go weak at the knees. She was breathtaking, and Syd lost herself for few moments as she stood and stared at the picture and wondered about the amazing chain of events that had led her to be standing exactly where she was at that moment—in Maddie’s house, looking at this very photograph.

  She was startled when the phone on the desk rang. Uncertain for a moment about the propriety of answering it, she finally opted just to pick it up. It might be the sheriff, she thought. Or Lizzy.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. I’m trying to reach Madeleine Stevenson,” a woman responded after a brief pause.

  “I’m sorry, she’s not at home right now. You can reach her at her clinic, or I can take a message.”

  There was another pause. “Syd? Is that you?”

  Syd felt confused. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. “Yes . . .”

  “It’s Celine.”

  Celine. Oh, my god. “Celine? Hello. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I was hoping to catch Maddie before she left for work this morning. That’s why I’m calling her house phone.”

  Syd glanced at her watch. It was eight-forty—five-forty in California. Celine was an early riser, like her daughter. “She had a hefty patient load this morning, so she went into the clinic an hour earlier than usual. I’m sorry that you missed her. She will be, too.”

  “That’s okay. I can try her cell phone later on. Or if she’s that busy today, maybe she can call me back when it’s convenient?”

  “Um, is everything okay? I mean, are you doing all right?” Syd felt awkward and tongue-tied. She didn’t know why she felt so embarrassed to be caught lounging around Maddie’s house at such an ungodly hour of the morning. She certainly didn’t need for her discomfort to make her sound like an imbecile to Celine.

  “I’m fine—really. Thank you for asking.” There was a pause on the line. “Are you all right?”

  Syd closed her eyes as she stood there with the phone pressed to her ear. She felt strangely overcome with the need to tell the truth. “No. No, not really. I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I . . .”

  “What is it?” Celine’s voice contained a trace of alarm. “Has something happened? Is Maddie all right?”

  “No. I mean, yes.” She sighed. “Maddie’s fine. But, yes, something did happen.” She shook her head to clear it and sat down on a leather-covered ottoman. “I’m sorry. I must sound like an idiot.”

  “Well, not entirely.” Celine’s drollness was so reminiscent of Maddie that Syd couldn’t help but smile. “Look, why not take a deep breath, and then tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve got a good long distance plan, and I haven’t used many of my friends and family minutes up until now. I’d like to change that.”

  Syd smiled and slid back onto a chair. “We’d like to change that, too.”

  “Well, then this seems like as good a time as any to start.”

  Suddenly, Syd wanted very much to talk—not only about the events of last night—but about events of the last six months. After nearly forty-five minutes, she realized with amazement that she had been talking pretty much nonstop. Celine had interrupted her from time to time to react or to ask for clarification, but Syd found that Maddie’s mother possessed uncanny reflective listening skills. She expressed concern and amazement about her horrifying encounter with Beau, and was unmistakably proud of Maddie’s later, heroic efforts to save him. She was also a good sounding board for Syd to air her mounting anxiety about her immediate future, and her uncertainly about the wisdom of moving in with Maddie so early into their relationship.

  “Is there some magic amount of time that you think should elapse before you take this step?” Celine asked, after Syd revealed that one of her greatest concerns was that the fire would force them into something they both thought was happening too soon.

  “Well, no. I mean, nothing hard and fast.”

  “Are you committed to each other?”

  “I think so.” No, that wasn’t right. “Yes.”

  “But you fear that proximity will compromise that?”

  “Well, I just don’t want us to do anything that might jeopardize our future together.”

  “And living together in a committed relationship with the person you love, might do that, how, exactly?”

  Syd laughed. “Now I see where your daughter gets it.”

  “Gets what?”

  “Her annoying proclivity for winning arguments.”

  “Oh,” she could tell that Celine was smiling, “I don’t know about that. I think I could learn a thing or two from her.”

  “Just remind me that I never want to be caught in the crossfire between you two.” Celine fell silent, and Syd realized how her innocent gibe might have gone astray. “Oh, god, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “I know. It’s all right. I’m hopeful that one day we will be able to spar with one another again—without the rancor or the baggage.”

  “I know that Maddie wants that, too.”

  “You’re good for her,” Celine said, with authority. “I noticed that immediately when I saw the two of you together in Richmond.”

  Syd felt embarrassed and wondered again if they should tell Celine the truth about Richmond. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “You love her.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “I do. More than I ever thought possible. It’s been quite a transition for me—moving here and meeting Maddie.” She shook her head. “Going from bei
ng married to discovering I’m gay at what seems like light speed. Even though I know it really didn’t work that way. I don’t know. It’s like . . . I feel sometimes like I’m plastered against the cow catcher of a runaway locomotive.”

  Celine laughed. “Interesting analogy.”

  Syd shrugged and smiled into the phone. “I love trains. My favorite book growing up was The Little Engine That Could.”

  “Well, lucky for you, this is one load you don’t have to haul over the mountaintop by yourself. Let Maddie pull her weight. She’s up to it. That’s what relationships are supposed to be all about—sharing the hard parts along with the easy parts and getting to the same destination together.”

  Syd smiled. “Thanks for reminding me of that. I tend to over think things.”

  “That’s not always a bad quality. But if every signpost of life seems to be pointing you in the same direction, then the best and wisest course to follow just might be the one laid out in front of you.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “Maybe. But one thing I’ve learned from my own mistakes is that we’re generally better off if we listen to our hearts and not our fears.”

  Syd was amazed. “You’re the second person who’s said that to me.”

  “Well, if a third person says it, then your data will definitely be trending in a certain direction.”

  Syd laughed. “Thank you, Dr. Heller.”

  “Syd, may I make another suggestion?”

  “Of course.”

  “If you haven’t talked with them yet, call your parents. Tell them what happened last night and let them help you.” She hesitated. “I’m sure they’ll want to. Maddie spoke very highly of them both.”

  Syd’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Okay. I will.”

  “Good. You’ll be glad you did, and so will they.”

  Syd sat up straighter in the chair, feeling better—feeling more empowered and less tentative. “Thank you. I mean that.” She hesitated. “I hope we can talk again. I’ve really enjoyed this conversation.”