Then I go back to the stove, leaving her standing in the living room, looking at me like I’m weird. I shrug as I pour the Alfredo sauce into the pan of noodles. Someone grips my shoulder from behind me, and I know immediately that it’s Warren. I glance at him.
“Is there enough for me and Bridgette?”
I don’t know why we didn’t do this at Sydney’s apartment. It’s a lot more peaceful over there for me, and I can’t even hear. I can only imagine how much more peaceful it is for Sydney.
“There’s plenty,” I sign, realizing just how much I need to take Sydney out on a real date. I need to get her out of this apartment. I will tomorrow. I’ll take her on a twelve-hour date tomorrow. We’ll eat lunch and then go to the movies and then dinner and we won’t have to see Warren and Bridgette at all.
I’m taking the garlic bread out of the stove when Sydney rushes to the bathroom. At first, it concerns me that she just ran to the bathroom, but then I remember our phones are still on the counter. She must have a phone call.
She returns a moment later to the kitchen with her phone to her ear. She’s laughing as she talks to someone. Probably her mother.
I want to meet her parents. Sydney hasn’t told me a whole lot about them, other than her father is a lawyer and her mother has always been a stay-at-home mom. But she doesn’t seem put out when she speaks to them. The only people I’ve met in her life are Hunter and Tori—and I’d like to forget I ever met them—but her family is different. They’re her people, so I want to know them, even if it’s to tell them they’ve raised an exceptional woman who I love with all my heart.
Sydney smiles at me and signs, “Mom,” as she points to her phone. Then she slides my phone across the bar to me. I press the home button and see that I have a missed call and a voicemail. It’s rare that I get phone calls, because everyone who knows me knows I can’t answer the phone. I usually only receive text messages.
I open my voicemail app to read the transcription, but it says, “Transcription not available.” I put my phone in my pocket and wait for Sydney to finish her phone call. I’ll just have her listen to the voicemail and let me know what it says.
I turn off the stove and the oven and set plates out at the table, along with the pans of food. Warren and Bridgette both magically appear as soon as dinner is ready. They’re like clockwork. They disappear when it’s time to clean or pay bills, but show up every time there’s food to be eaten. If they ever move out, they’re both going to starve.
Maybe I should move out. Let them have this apartment and see how fun it is having to pay bills on time. One of these days I will. I’ll move in with Sydney, but not yet. Not until I’ve met everyone in her family and not until she’s had the chance to live on her own for a while like she’s always wanted.
Sydney ends her phone call and sits down at the table next to me. I slide my phone to her and point to the voicemail. “Can you listen to that?”
She asked me earlier this afternoon to start signing everything I say to her, so I do. It’ll help her learn faster. I grab her plate as she listens to the voicemail, and I fill it with pasta. I throw a piece of garlic bread on it and set it in front of her, just as she pulls the phone away from her ear.
She stares at the screen for a second and then looks at Warren before looking at me. I’ve never seen this look on her face before. I’m not sure how to read it. She looks hesitant, worried, and somehow sick, and I don’t like it.
“What is it?”
She slides my phone back to me and grabs the glass of water I made for her. “Maggie,” she says, forcing my heart to a stop. She says something else, but she doesn’t sign it and I’m not able to read her lips. I swing my eyes to Warren and he signs what Sydney just said.
“It was the hospital. Maggie was admitted today.”
Everything sort of just stops. I say sort of because Bridgette is still making her plate of food, ignoring everything happening. I glance at Sydney again, and she’s taking a drink of her water, avoiding my gaze. I look at Warren, and he’s staring at me like I should know what to do.
I don’t know why he’s acting like it’s my choice to direct this scene. Maggie is his friend, too. I look at him expectantly and then say, “Call her.”
Sydney looks at me, and I’m looking at her, and I have no fucking idea how to handle this situation. I don’t want to seem too worried, but there’s no way I can find out Maggie is in the hospital and not be worried. But I’m equally concerned about how this is making Sydney feel. I sigh and reach for Sydney’s hand under the table while I wait for Warren to get in touch with Maggie. Sydney slides her fingers through mine, but then props her other arm on the table, covering her mouth with her hand. She turns her attention to Warren, just as he stands up and starts talking into the phone. I watch him and wait. Sydney watches him and waits. Bridgette scoops up a huge portion of pasta with her bread and takes a bite.