I nod. “Me, too.”
Bridgette and I may get along now, but I’m still scared to death of her wrath.
Maggie slides off the bed and walks back toward the living room. I follow her. Once we’re all seated back at the table, she pulls her notebook in front of her. I look at Ridge, and he smiles at me. “I love you,” he mouths.
He says it all the time to me, so I don’t know why it makes me blush this time.
“They have two available units,” Warren says, sliding his phone toward Maggie. “One up, one down. The one downstairs is at the other end of the complex, but I think you should be downstairs.”
Maggie looks at his phone. “It says it isn’t available until the 3rd. I can call in the morning and reserve it, then just get a hotel for a few days between apartments.”
“That’s just a waste of money,” Bridgette says. “It’s only a few days. Just stay in my old bedroom. Or Brennan’s. They’re both empty.” She’s filing her nails again, but the words that just came out of her mouth are monumental. It’s the closest she could come to an apology without actually saying to Maggie, “I was rude. I’m sorry.”
Ridge looks at me and squeezes my hand under the table, then texts me.
Ridge: I’ll stay at your place while she’s at ours, if it’s okay.
I nod. I would probably have made him, even if he hadn’t suggested it.
I don’t even know that I could disagree with her staying there for a few days at this point because everything going on with the people at this table has long since passed the definition of normal. Warren once said to me, “Welcome to the weirdest place you’ll ever live.”
I get it now. I don’t even live with them anymore, but that apartment and the rotating door attached to it defy every boundary ever put into place.
Warren scoots his chair back and stands up, then claims the empty chair next to Bridgette. He reaches over and grabs her nail file, then tosses it into the living room. He pulls her chair closer to his and he kisses her.
And Bridgette actually lets him for a good five seconds. It’s both adorable and highly uncomfortable.
Maggie rolls her eyes and then pushes her folder in front of Ridge. “I’ve made a list of compromises. There are things I still want to do that I’m going to need you to be okay with. And in return, I promise I’m going to take better care of myself. But you can’t be bossy with me until you’ve given me a little time to adjust. I’m a hot mess, and it’s going to take some time to improve that part of my personality.”
Ridge looks over the list for a moment, but looks up at her and signs something I don’t recognize. Maggie nods. “Yes. I’m going bungee jumping and you can’t tell me no. We’re compromising.”
Ridge sighs and then pushes the list back in front of Maggie. “Fine. But you’re joining a support group.”
Maggie laughs, but Ridge doesn’t.
“That’s not a compromise,” Maggie says. “That’s torture.”
Ridge shrugs. “We’re compromising,” he says. “If you hate it, you can stop. But I think it’ll be good for you. I don’t think any of us truly knows what you’re going through, and I think it’ll be good for you to talk with people who do.”
Maggie groans and drops her head on the table, hitting it three times against the wood. She scoots back from her chair and looks at me. “You’re going with me,” she says, walking toward the kitchen.
“To your support group?” I ask, confused. I don’t know why I’m suddenly being tortured in this compromise.
“Nope,” Maggie says. “Not to support group. CF support groups are only online. You’re going bungee jumping with me.”
Bungee jumping. Hmm. My boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend wants me to jump off a bridge. Kind of ironic when you think about it. I look over at Ridge and grin. I’ve always wanted to bungee jump. He just shakes his head and smiles back at me, like he was just defeated.
“I’ve always wondered something,” Bridgette says, looking across the room at Maggie. Warren is in the living room retrieving Bridgette’s nail file. “Why don’t you just get a lung transplant? Won’t that cure the disease?”
I’ve wondered that, too, but haven’t brought it up to Ridge yet.
“It’s not that easy,” Warren says, handing Bridgette the nail file. “Cystic Fibrosis doesn’t just affect the lungs, so new lungs won’t cure someone of the disease completely.”