by Ann McMan
“Hmmm. I suppose I could just promise to keep you well-supplied with Girl Scout cookies.”
“That’d be a hell of a start.”
Maddie smiled and drained her glass. “It’s a deal. Want another? Or are you ready to head upstairs?”
“Oh, I’m beyond ready for bed. But don’t let me hold you back. Stay and enjoy yourself.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll call it a night, too.” She stood up and noticed Syd regarding her with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, even the most accomplished love goddess needs a night off now and then.”
Syd rolled her eyes. “Come on. Stairs or elevator?”
“You’re kidding, right? After that meal? I was thinking about having a porter wheel me up on one of those luggage carts. Of course, you’re welcome to ride along . . .”
UPSTAIRS IN THEIR room, Maddie changed into a faded, gray Penn t-shirt and baggy, flannel lounge pants, and made a nest in one of the big chairs by the window. She put on a pair of wire-framed reading glasses, pulled a copy of the JAMA out of her duffle bag, and opened it to a section marked with a yellow post-it note.
Syd emerged from the bathroom wearing baggy, lightweight pajamas. She looked over Maddie’s shoulder and read, “Clinical Outcome and Phenotypic Expression in Cardiomyopathy.” She smiled sweetly at her. “A little light reading before bed?”
Maddie looked up from her journal and tried not to show too visible a reaction to seeing Syd in her nightclothes. She looked adorable. “Oh, yeah. This one’s a real bodice-ripper. I started it yesterday, and I’m simply dying to find out what happens next.”
“Well, I’ll take pains not to disturb you. I’m going to bed.” She squeezed Maddie’s shoulder. “Goodnight. Thanks for the wonderful dinner—and the conversation.”
Maddie smiled up at her. “Will the light bother you? I don’t have to finish this now.”
Syd walked to the bed and turned down the covers on her side. “Not at all. I could sleep in the middle of a bus station. Stay up as long as you want.” She got into bed and turned off her bedside lamp.
Maddie gazed at her for a few seconds. “G’night, Syd. Sleep tight.”
“You, too,” Syd replied in a muffled voice.
Maddie settled down for a nice, long read. She wanted to be certain Syd was sound asleep before she got up enough courage to join her in the big bed.
MADDIE WOKE UP twice during the night. Once when she felt, more than heard, Syd returning to bed after a bathroom visit. “Everything okay?” she asked, groggily.
“Everything’s fine. Just had to pee. Go back to sleep—sorry I woke you.”
“S’okay.”
The second time she woke up, it was closer to dawn and faint rays of pinkish light were starting to creep in around the edges of the drapes that were pulled tight across their window. She was aware of feeling warm—uncomfortably so—and then realized that the source of the heat wasn’t coming from the blankets, it was coming from the softly snoring woman who was draped halfway across her body. Syd’s head was tucked between Maddie’s neck and right shoulder, and one arm was snugly wrapped around her waist.
For a moment, she panicked. Oh shit. How did this happen? Then, as she lay there listening to Syd’s quiet snores, she smiled. God, she fits me like a glove. She shook her head and silently scoffed at herself. Who am I kidding? She closed her eyes. It’s pathetic. I’m shameless. I should wake her up. She rested her cheek against the top of Syd’s head and lay there a few more minutes, quietly warring with herself. Syd smelled like sleep, and soap, and lavender. On the other hand, I’ll never get a chance like this again. She gave up the struggle with her baser instincts and discreetly moved her own arms up and around Syd. She was out again in minutes.
AN HOUR LATER, Syd’s travel alarm went off, and she woke to find herself comfortably wrapped up in Maddie’s arms. “Oh, my god.” She bolted up into a sitting position, stunned. Her sudden movement shocked Maddie into wakefulness, and she quickly pushed herself up onto her elbows, her dark hair a maze around her face.
“What is it? Is something wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, urgently.
“Maddie . . . I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”
Maddie blinked and gave her a quizzical look. “For what?”
Syd waved her hand back and forth between them. “For this. For that.” She pointed at a big drool spot on Maddie’s t-shirt. “God.” She shook her head. “I sleep at home with a big, body pillow. I guess I mistook you for it. I really apologize. I’m not normally such a . . . space invader.”
Maddie laughed and flopped back down on her back. “Is that all? My god. I thought the hotel was on fire.” She touched Syd on the arm. “No harm, no foul. Body pillow, huh?” She sat up again and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Well, I’ve been called worse.” She stood up. “Flip you for the first shower?”
Syd smiled up at her shyly. “You go first. It’s the least I can do.”
“Well, now you know my motto . . . always do the least you can do.”
“Then break a sweat. We’ve got a couple of free breakfasts waiting on us downstairs.”
Maddie slowly turned to her with an ironic expression on her face. She raised an eyebrow. “You know, I think you might owe me an apology after all.”
Syd stopped smiling. “I really am sorry—”
Maddie cut her off with a raised hand. “Oh, not for that,” she teased. “For doubting me last night.”
Syd frowned, confused. “Doubting you?”
“Yeah.” She dramatically brushed the nails of her right hand across her chest and then blew on them. “Opinions might differ, but it appears that I may have managed to score with the town librarian.”
Syd sighed deeply, then stood up, and pushed past her. “Uh huh. Do you take comfort in these delusions?”
“Delusions?”
“Delusions.” Syd turned to her with a sly smile. “Trust me, Doctor,” she dropped her voice, “if you had managed to score with this librarian, there’d be no room for divided opinion.”
Maddie’s jaw dropped, followed soon by her butt, as she plopped back down onto the bed.
Syd smirked at her as she headed for the bathroom. “I’ll try to save you some hot water.”
She grinned when she heard Maddie mutter, “Don’t bother—cold will be just fine.”
Chapter 15
The question and answer segment of Dr. Heller’s presentation was in full swing. Maddie glanced at her watch for about the twentieth time. Already the session had lasted forty-five minutes longer than scheduled. Judging by the number of hands still waving in the air, it wasn’t likely to be over anytime soon. She had intentionally taken a seat in one of the last rows of the auditorium, hoping she could avoid running into Gina and forestalling the inevitable reunion with her mother. She felt vaguely like a stalker. She shook her head in amazement as she watched Celine hold forth at the front of the hall, answering questions with dexterity and precision. She can still cut the most erudite prick down to size in about ten seconds.
As if on cue, Celine called on a questioner seated just behind Maddie. When she stepped away from the podium for an angle to see him better, her eyes landed on her daughter for the first time. The two regarded each other while the questioner droned on.
Maddie resisted the urge to sink lower into her seat and met her mother’s gaze head-on. Celine pursed her lips, and then nodded slightly in acknowledgement. She then shifted her attention back to her questioner. Without losing a beat, she calmly responded to his query. When she finished, she walked back to the podium.
“I think that’s enough for today. I’d like to thank you all for your time and attention. It’s been a pleasure to be here with you.” The audience responded with a roar of applause as she collected her notes and exited the stage.
Show time, Maddie thought, as she stood up and made her way to the aisle that led to the stage. She made little progress. The throng of attendees in her part of the hall seemed in no partic
ular hurry to exit—many of them standing in place, chatting about Celine’s presentation, or making plans for their evening amusements.
After an endless string of polite entreaties and a few well-placed elbows, Maddie was finally able to see Celine leaning against the apron of the stage. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her head was tilted to the side in a manner Maddie recognized as a posture she adopted whenever she was annoyed. Great. I wonder what put her in a foul mood so fast? Then she got a clear look at the woman Celine was talking to: it was Gina.
Her first impulse was to turn around and make a beeline for the nearest bar. Goddamn it to hell. What was I thinking when I agreed to do this? Her thoughts swung back to Gina’s sudden appearance at their table in the restaurant last night. I should have known by her behavior that she’d pull some kind of stunt like this. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her jacket and continued on toward the stage.
Celine saw her immediately. She turned away from Gina and watched Maddie approach. “Madeleine. You look well.”
“Celine.” Maddie turned to Gina. “And, Gina—you’re certainly omnipresent.” She eyed her short-waisted jacket and shorter red skirt. As usual, Gina was tastefully but provocatively dressed. “I see you’ve met my mother?”
“Oh, yes. Dr. Garcetti has been very entertaining,” Celine said, before Gina could reply. “I had no idea that the two of you were so close.”
Maddie refused to be goaded. “Really? Well, you can hardly be surprised that you’ve missed a few plot twists, Celine. Seven years is a long time.” She looked directly at Gina. “Dr. Garcetti is so modest that she probably didn’t tell you what a brilliant ophthalmic surgeon she is. In fact, she even helped me see a few things more clearly.”
“Your daughter is too kind, Dr. Heller.” Gina’s voice was icy. “She didn’t need any help from me to find her way. If anything, I was more of a hurdle on her path to self-actualization.”
Maddie laughed. “I never was any good at those track-and-field events, was I Celine?” She looked back at Gina. “I caught my foot on every damn one of those hurdles.”
Celine held her hand up between them. “Enough. I really don’t have the time or the inclination to stand here while the two of you engage in this sophomoric repartee.” She turned to Maddie. “I came here to have a civilized conversation with you, not to get an unsolicited tour of your past indiscretions.”
“I can see that I’ve intruded too long on your reunion.” Gina faced Celine and held out her hand. “Thank you, Dr. Heller, for your presentation today and for your many contributions to medicine. It was an honor to finally meet you.”
Celine shook Gina’s hand. “Dr. Garcetti. I wish I could say the same.”
Without a backward look at Maddie, Gina turned abruptly and stormed up the aisle toward the nearest exit.
Mother and daughter stood in silence, watching her leave.
After a minute, Maddie sighed. “Talk about Grant taking Richmond.”
Celine exhaled and shook her head. “Madeleine, I don’t know what disappoints me more—your decision to waste your talents on an indifferent medical practice, or your penchant for wasting yourself on indifferent talent.”
Against her will, Maddie laughed out loud. “Dear god, Celine. That’s the classiest put-down I’ve had in ten years.”
“Don’t prevaricate. You give as good as you get. You always have.”
“I had a good teacher.”
Celine went to a seat in the first row and collected her coat and briefcase. “As enjoyable as this is, I think we should continue our discussion over dinner. I have an early flight back to L.A. in the morning, and I need to return some calls later tonight.”
Maddie regarded her mother calmly. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Why did you want to see me?”
Celine straightened the collar of her jacket. “Do I need a reason?”
“Need a reason? No. Have a reason? Certainly. What is it?”
“I hate to destroy the dramatic picture you’re building up, but I have no motivation other than my desire to take advantage of my presence here and spend an evening with my daughter.”
They regarded each other silently.
“So this little reunion is just a glorified homage to geography?”
“If you choose to view it that way—then, yes.”
They started walking up the aisle toward the main exit. Maddie looked straight ahead as she addressed her mother. “Great. Then you won’t mind if a friend joins us for dinner?”
Celine’s back stiffened, but she kept walking forward. “Another friend? Charming.” She looked at Maddie. Her expression was unreadable. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
Maddie didn’t bother to correct her. They walked the rest of the way out of the hall in silence.
SYD’S MORNING MEETING with the field services librarian was enjoyable and uneventful, but her afternoon session with the state auditor had been sobering. Denise Metcalf was correct in her surmise that government resources were becoming strained to the point that any continuation of funding after the end of the initial grant period was looking increasingly unlikely. Judy Goldman strongly encouraged Syd to use the next twelve months to try and lobby local officials to think creatively about finding a way to fund the library’s modest operating budget.
This was a bittersweet development for Syd, who not only had invested tremendous time and energy in setting up her tiny branch, she had actually begun to think seriously about the possibility of remaining on in Jericho after her eighteen-month tenure had elapsed. If, in fact, the state funding dried up and the local economy was unable to shoulder the expense of keeping the branch open, she’d be faced with an unforeseen and confounding scenario.
Six months ago, it would have never occurred to her that she would be so despondent about the prospect of having to leave the tiny mountain community. Six months ago, she worried more about her ability simply to endure the eighteen-month commitment.
Now? Now she was faced with a new and surprising set of issues . . . and emotions.
She didn’t want to leave Jericho. Not now. With each passing day, that revelation gained greater clarity. She loved the library. She loved the quirky rural community with its colorful pastiche of residents. She loved her life there with its sense of independence and purpose. She loved the natural opportunity she had been given to dip her toe back into the world of music. And she loved her new friends. She smiled to herself. A lot.
She was in no hurry to get back to the hotel, so she decided to take a slow walk along the scenic river embankment. As she lazily made her way toward the hotel, she had time to reflect on all of these things, and on the equally confounding events that were unfolding in her relationship with Maddie. She closed her eyes as she thought for the hundredth time about waking up that morning sprawled on top of her. My god. She sat down on an unoccupied bench that faced the water.
Since Maddie’s revelation the night of her birthday, she felt that everything between them had changed. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Maddie’s behavior was essentially unchanged. Maybe she was bit more relaxed and playful—certainly, she was more direct and self-effacing than usual.
It’s me, she thought. I’m the one who’s different. I’m more guarded and suspicious of my motivations. I’m not reacting to her as openly or honestly as I did before I knew the truth. She gazed out at the inky surface of the water as it slowly made its way toward the Chesapeake Bay. And what is the truth? That Maddie is gay? Why was that revelation so unsettling to her? It didn’t change anything about their relationship.
She shook her head. No. That was wrong. It changed everything.
It was pointless for her to continue to deny the attraction she felt for the extraordinary woman. It was pointless and dishonest. It didn’t help her to pretend it was a fleeting thing that had no deeper meaning. Prior to learning the truth about Maddie’s sexual orientation, she had been able to keep the baser threads of her emotions sealed up behind a wall of pr
agmatism. Maddie was unavailable, so that made any deeper consideration of her as a potential object of desire pointless and futile.
And Syd didn’t pursue things that were futile. She might eventually tell herself the truth about her developing attraction to another woman, but she would never act on it. Especially not when the other woman in the equation was so effectively off the table.
But Maddie wasn’t off the table. Maddie was gay. Maddie was gay, and she was unattached. Maddie had the word “available” stamped all over her six-foot frame.
And Syd was terrified.
Her biggest fear was that she would do something that would compromise herself and alienate Maddie while she took the time she needed to sort through this tangled-up mess. She needed time—time to calm down and time to understand what, if anything, all of this meant for her. And she needed to stop tiptoeing around her emotions in some ludicrous pantomime of normalcy. She needed to know what, if anything, this revelation about Maddie really meant for her. What would she be willing to do with the information? How would it change the nature of their interactions?
Her emotions were like a house of cards that grew higher and more precarious with each passing day. What did the makeshift structure that was emerging reveal to her? And how long did she have to figure it out before it collapsed beneath the weight of its own simple truth?
She didn’t know the answers to any of these things. But she knew that she had to stop hiding from her emotions, and she had to stop withholding herself from Maddie. It wasn’t fair. Michael was right. Maddie needed her friendship. And tonight, when they met her estranged mother for dinner, she had a golden opportunity to step up and help her friend in a very material way.
She glanced at her watch. She had an hour before she was scheduled to meet Maddie back at the hotel. An idea began to take shape. She smiled to herself as she thought about it. Yes, it might just work. If I can’t get answers to my own questions, maybe I can at least help her resolve a few of her own.
