by Ann McMan
Maddie’s cell phone vibrated. She quickly snapped it up, apologizing for the interruption. She glanced at the readout. “It’s my service. I’m so sorry, but I have to take this.” She pushed her chair back. “Excuse me. I’ll try to be quick.” She squeezed Syd’s shoulder as she left the table and headed for the solitude of the lobby.
Alone, Syd and Celine faced each other across the table like opponents in a chess match.
Celine’s blue eyes were unwavering as they regarded Syd. Her resemblance to Maddie was uncanny. “Madeleine seems happy.”
Syd took a deep breath. “I think she is. Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I think she misses her mother.”
Celine lifted her chin. “You speak very frankly.”
“Well, based on how limited our time together is, I thought I should make the most of this opportunity to indulge my meddlesome nature. Who knows when I’ll get another chance?” Syd paused. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“I’m not at all offended. But I confess that I am unused to this level of forthrightness from any of Madeleine’s . . . companions.”
Syd laughed. “Now it’s my turn to be baffled. You say that like there’ve been dozens.”
Celine smiled. “Not dozens. A few. Most not worth her time.”
“You’re very hard on her.”
“On the contrary. I simply want more for her than she seems to want for herself.”
“And that is?” Syd asked, leaning forward on her elbows.
“I want her to be happy.” Celine paused and looked down at her uneaten salad. “I want her to find the happiness that eluded me. And I want her to find that with someone who is worthy of her—someone who is a radical departure from her blind succession of Ginas.” She looked up at Syd. “Maybe now—finally—she has.”
Unprepared for so candid a response, Syd felt her cheeks warm, and she dropped her eyes. The seconds ticked by, and another uneasy silence stretched out between them. Her plan to trick Celine into revealing her true feelings had succeeded, but as a result, Syd was now trapped in a confusing maze that blended fiction and reality so seamlessly, she was unable to tell one from the other.
Celine was eyeing her with curiosity, but looked up when she saw Maddie heading back to their table from the lobby.
MADDIE’S TELEPHONE CALL concerned Jacob Halsey, an elderly, diabetic patient of hers who had suffered an acute bout of hypoglycemia while visiting his daughter in Charlottesville. Efforts by the family to resolve the problem had failed, and Mr. Halsey began having seizures. EMTs rushed him to the UVA hospital, where he still was not fully responding to treatment. His family insisted that his attending physician at the large university hospital contact Maddie to explain his condition, and to discuss treatment options. After their brief conversation, Maddie assured the family that Mr. Halsey was getting excellent care and promised to stop in Charlottesville tomorrow on her way back to Jericho so she could meet with them all in person.
When she hung up, she tarried in the restaurant lobby a few extra moments to try and puzzle through her mother’s uncharacteristic behavior. Celine’s casual use of her childhood nickname was surreal—a stunning departure from her customary veil of formality. Maddie had no idea what to make of it. It actually seemed that Celine was making an effort at being civil and—even more strangely—that she liked Syd.
Maddie continued to stand there, tapping the back of her cell phone in agitation. Celine had taken Syd’s bait entirely too easily. Why would her mother, of all people, suddenly have such prurient interest in this aspect of her life? Why would she care about how long she and Syd had been . . . together? It didn’t make sense to her—especially considering their earlier tête-à-tête about Gina.
Maddie shook her head to try and clear it of confusion. She’d had far too much to drink, and she knew she couldn’t trust her ability to react safely or smartly to any other revelations tonight. Already, she felt like her emotions were on the brink of a stampede, and she didn’t want Syd to get caught in the crossfire if she lost control. On top of it all, the cozy little romantic charade they were putting on for Celine was making it harder for her to submerge the reality of her attraction to Syd and threatening her resolve to keep herself out of danger.
Wistfully, she cut her eyes over to the entrance of the restaurant’s bar. Then, with a sigh, she turned away and headed back toward the dining room. As she approached the table, it was clear that Syd and Celine were in earnest conversation about something. They were leaning toward each other from their opposite sides of the table, and neither of their appetizers appeared to have been touched at all. She had a vague sense of panic about what might have transpired during their time alone and regretted, again, that she had been forced to leave Syd sitting there with Celine while she returned the call from her service.
“I apologize again for that interruption,” she said as she sat down. “One of my diabetic patients went into insulin shock while visiting with his daughter in Charlottesville. He’s now at the UVA hospital, but isn’t responding to treatment.” She paused. “The family is necessarily distraught. I spoke with his attending. They’re doing all they can for him.”
Celine nodded. “The diabetes and endocrinology unit at UVA is purported to be very good.”
“It is. If this had to happen to Jake, he picked the right place to be.”
“I am sure that having his family present is a huge asset, too,” Syd added with concern.
“No doubt,” she said, turning to Syd, “but if you don’t mind, I’d like to make a detour tomorrow and stop in Charlottesville on our way home to check in on him and see the family.”
“Of course,” Syd said. “I absolutely do not mind. Do you think he’ll pull through this?”
Maddie sighed. “I really have no idea. Jake is an old curmudgeon who refuses to follow his dietary regimen. Even if they can reverse the effects of the insulin shock, it’s not very likely that he’ll emerge with any greater appreciation for his limitations.”
“Some patients simply choose to embrace their diseases, instead of fighting them,” Celine said. “As difficult as that is for us as doctors, we have to accept that it’s a reasonable and legitimate response to illness.”
Syd was intrigued. “I guess this is the heart of the whole death-with-dignity debate?”
“Actually, it’s more like a prequel to the debate,” Maddie said. “End-of-life or advanced-care considerations are separate from the conundrum of someone who seeks a course of treatment, but then refuses to follow it.”
“But the same root, psychological considerations are at play even at the outset of the process. They just have less clarity,” Celine added.
Maddie thought about her mother’s comment. “Some would say a person’s desire to seek treatment is a reflexive function of the organism, and its innate need to survive.”
“Some would say?” Celine asked, sounding very professorial.
Maddie shrugged. “I cut my class in Medical Ethics the day they covered this, so I can’t really speak with any greater authority.”
Celine rolled her eyes.
Syd laughed. “Well, I think stopping over in Charlottesville so you can see the family is absolutely the right thing to do. Besides, I’m euphoric about the chance to rack up all those extra Air-Stevenson frequent-flier miles.”
Celine gave Maddie an incredulous look. “Did you fly here in your own plane?”
“Yep. In the 310.”
Celine sighed. “Old habits die hard. I see the torch has been passed to a new generation.”
“Well, you can’t complain too much, Celine. You once were involved in this particular passion as much as Dad.”
“That was a lifetime ago. I grew up.”
Maddie shook her head. “No . . . you ran away.”
Her words hung in the air like a pall.
Celine stiffened, but didn’t respond. “Before your service interrupted, you were going to fill me in on how the two you t
wo met.”
“Was I?” Maddie said in an icy voice.
Syd quickly placed a restraining hand on Maddie’s thigh. “I moved to Jericho six months ago to manage a state-funded program to improve public library service. In true, superhero fashion, Maddie swept in to rescue me twice—first when I was stranded by a flat tire, and later when I was hobbled by a twisted ankle.” She lowered her eyes and smiled at the recollection, then she looked up to meet Celine’s interested gaze. “We’ve been . . . seeing each other for about the last two months.”
Celine looked surprised. “Only two months? That’s curious.” Her eyes took in Syd’s gold necklace again. “You seem so intuitive about one another. It normally takes years to attain that level of symbiosis in a relationship.”
Maddie reached under the table and grasped the hand that still rested on her thigh. She looked at Syd, then raised their linked hands and placed them in full view on top of the table.
“Well,” she replied, leveling a steely gaze at Celine, “as my online biographer has already established. I am a prodigy.”
MADDIE AND SYD stood huddled together in the vestibule of the Jefferson, waiting while the concierge called them a cab to take them back across town to their hotel. Maddie was leaning against Syd, as much for assistance in remaining upright as for the moral support her proximity provided.
“Hang on, Stretch,” Syd urged, wrapping an arm around her waist. “The cab should be here soon.”
Maddie looked at her through a haze of exhaustion. She tried to smile. “I apologize for this. I don’t normally subject women to my Gumby impersonation until the second date.”
Syd laughed and pulled her closer. “God. You’re a charmer even when you’re three-sheets-to-the-wind.”
Maddie gave her a crooked smile. “Glad you think so. I’m not sure my mother would share your charitable view.”
“I think you’re wrong about that.”
“I’m not sure about anything right now.”
The large glass door to the street swung open, letting in a cold blast of air. It had started to rain, and the concierge entered, carrying several dripping umbrellas. Over Maddie’s shoulder, Syd could see a clear reflection of the lobby interior behind them. She thought she recognized the lone figure standing by an enormous potted-palm situated just in front of the bellhop station.
She leaned her head closer to Maddie and whispered, “Don’t react or turn around. Celine is watching us from the lobby.”
Maddie dropped her head. “Oh, god. I don’t have the stamina for any more of this.”
“I have an idea. Do you trust me?”
Maddie lifted her chin and eyed her with suspicion. “What kind of idea?”
“The kind that should seal the deal.”
Shyly, Syd slipped her hands up behind Maddie’s neck and tugged her closer. Maddie’s eyes widened in shock as Syd pulled her head down and kissed her full on the mouth. The seconds ticked by as Syd softly pressed her lips against Maddie’s. She felt Maddie belatedly raise her arms and wrap them loosely around her waist. When they separated, their faces remained inches apart.
Alert and seemingly back in control of her faculties, Maddie whispered, “If we’re gonna do this, let’s really sell it.” She lowered her head to Syd’s, and, this time, there was no hesitation on her part as they kissed.
SYD FELT HER knees unhinge, and her arms tightened reflexively around Maddie’s shoulders. Jesus. What are we doing? Maddie’s lips felt incredible against hers. She was unprepared for the onslaught of competing emotions she felt as all of her hibernating senses woke up and snapped to attention. God. She’s a great kisser. Maddie continued the contact with scientific precision. It was passionate enough to look convincing, but restrained enough to protect the shifting boundaries of their friendship.
Before it ended, Maddie bussed her mouth a few more times in quick succession. Syd felt a wave of vertigo roll over her when Maddie’s teeth tugged gently on her lower lip before she released her and stepped back. Both of them were breathing unevenly, and they stared at each other, lapsing into stunned and stupefied silence.
After what felt like an eternity, Maddie gave Syd a shy smile. “Think that did the trick?”
Unsure of her ability to speak coherently, Syd didn’t reply right away. She looked over Maddie’s shoulder at the darkened square of lobby reflected in the glass door behind her. There was no sign of Celine.
“She’s gone.” She shifted her eyes back to Maddie’s face. “It must have worked.”
Maddie nudged her playfully. “You can say that again.”
Syd recovered her composure enough to roll her eyes. “Sleaze.”
“Hey, don’t blame me, Julie McCoy. You were the cruise director on this little installment of The Love Boat. I was just following orders.”
“Yeah. I noticed. How come you’re never this cooperative when it’s about something that doesn’t involve your legendary libido?”
“Try me.”
“I thought I just did.”
Their escalating banter was interrupted when the concierge timidly approached them to say that their cab had arrived.
“Saved by the bellhop,” Maddie quipped.
Syd sighed. “Will you please just over-tip this poor man so we can get the hell out of here?”
“Sure.” Maddie looked thoughtful. “What’s the going rate for Sapphically-induced blindness?”
“Oh, good god.” Shaking her head, Syd pushed past her and walked out into the rain.
THEY WERE QUIET during the fifteen-minute cab ride back to their hotel. The rain had picked up in intensity and drummed loudly on the roof of the car. It was punctuated by the occasional strains of Hindi music that floated back toward them from the driver’s radio.
Maddie seemed to be in a state of complete sensory overload from too much alcohol, too much time with her mother, and too much feigned intimacy with Syd, and she looked dazed and physically drained. She sat propped against the passenger door with her eyes closed and her head tipped back against the seat. The passing lights of Richmond’s downtown illuminated her features with sporadic flashes of color.
Syd kept stealing glances at her as they rode along in silence. Her mind was racing with confusion about whatever it was that had just transpired between them. She found it hard not to openly stare at Maddie. Throughout the long evening, their already complex relationship had begun to unravel and take on a new and mysterious shape.
Syd looked at her now like she was some kind of exotic museum exhibit—halfway expecting to see a small, printed card pinned to her coat that would explain what she was, and how she came to be sitting beside her in this noisy Richmond taxi.
There was no denying that Maddie was a beautiful woman. Her long, shapely legs were stretched all the way across the floorboard of the back seat—her feet nearly touching Syd’s. Hidden beneath the black raincoat was the kind of body that women envied, and men fantasized about. Syd shook her head in wonder as she considered all the non-corporeal aspects of what Maddie was—her engaging personality, her intelligence, her decency, and her lively and irreverent sense of humor. She was quite a package. And right now, the sum total of that package was stirring up a confusing volatility of feelings and desires she’d never experienced before. It was a paradox that was becoming impossible to ignore, and she was too tired and too aware of how frayed and compromised her perceptions were tonight to try and confront it.
She thought, ironically, that the Bollywood music the cab driver was playing was exactly right for this evening. It provided a bizarre and cloyingly upbeat soundtrack to the surreal song-and-dance routine the two of them had performed with such precision for Maddie’s mother.
“You okay?”
Syd jumped at the sound of the low voice and guiltily looked up to meet Maddie’s gaze, realizing that she had been caught staring at her legs. “Oh. Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”
“Meeee, too.” Maddie stretched her long frame before straightening up on the seat. �
��I can’t wait to get back to the room. If we had been out for very much longer, my body would have started molting out of these clothes on its own.”
Syd smiled. “I know what you mean. My feet are positively killing me. I’m not used to wearing shoes like this all day.”
“Lucky for you, I minored in foot rubs at Stanford.”
“Did you, now? When did that become part of the pre-med curriculum?”
“Oh, just about the time I landed a departmental assistantship with a gout-ridden, forty-something professor of microbiology.” Maddie paused, then winked at Syd. “Talk about some creative extra credit assignments.”
Syd groaned. “Have you always been this behaviorally challenged, or do you just crank it up when you’re around me?”
Maddie clucked her tongue. “You don’t really expect me to give you an honest answer to that, do you?”
“I’ve given up knowing what to expect from you.”
“Right back atcha.” They lapsed into silence again.
The cab turned into the entrance of their hotel and pulled forward to stop under its covered portico. Syd won the battle to pay the fare, and they climbed out and walked into the lobby. Maddie paused and touched Syd gently on the elbow. “I need to check in at the front desk and see if I have any messages about tomorrow. It should only take a second. Would you mind grabbing us an elevator and waiting on me?”
“Of course not. See you in a minute.” Syd continued across the lobby toward the bank of big silver doors. It was nearly ten-thirty, but the hotel was still pretty active. She could hear the clink of dinnerware and laughter coming from the small café behind her.
True to her word, Maddie was back at her side in just a couple of minutes, and they proceeded on up to their room on the fourth floor.
Once inside, they shed their bags and coats and played a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to see who got the bathroom first. Maddie won, and happily breezed past Syd with her sleepwear draped over her arm. Syd dropped into the nearest chair and kicked her shoes off.
