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.
Sydney’s leg is bouncing up and down. My pulse is pounding even faster than her leg. Warren’s conversation is dragging, taking what feels like forever to finish. I don’t know what is being said, but in the middle of the conversation, Sydney winces and then pulls her hand from mine and excuses herself from the table. I get up to follow her, just as Warren ends the call.
Now I’m standing in the middle of the living room about to rush after Sydney, but Warren starts to sign. “She passed out at a doctor’s office today. They’re keeping her overnight.”
I blow out a breath of relief. The hospitalizations for her diabetes are the best-case scenarios. It’s when she contracts a virus or a cold that it usually ends up taking weeks for her to recover.
I can tell by the look on Warren’s face that he’s not finished speaking yet. There’s something he hasn’t said. Something he said to Maggie that upset Sydney enough for her to walk away. “What else?” I ask him.
“She was crying,” he says. “She sounded…scared. But she wouldn’t tell me more than that. I told her we’re on our way.”
Maggie wants us there.
Maggie never wants us there. She always feels like she’s inconveniencing us.
Something else must have happened.
I cover my mouth with my hand, my thoughts frozen.
I turn to walk toward my bedroom, but Sydney is standing in the doorway with her shoes on and her purse over her shoulder. She’s leaving.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m not leaving because I’m mad. I just need to process all this.” She waves her hand flippantly around the room, then drops it to her side. She doesn’t leave, though. She simply stands there, confused.
I walk over to her and take her face in my hands because I’m confused, too. She just squeezes her eyes shut when I press my forehead to hers. I don’t know how to handle this situation. I have so much to say to her, but texting isn’t fast enough, and I’m not sure I can speak everything I want to say or that everything I say would even be understandable to her. I pull away from her and grab her hand, then walk her back to the table.
I motion for Warren to help us communicate if we need him. Sydney sits in her chair, and I scoot mine to where I’m right in front of her. “Are you okay?”
She seems at a loss for how to answer that question. When she finally does, I can’t understand her, so Warren signs for me. “I’m trying, Ridge. I really am.”
Just seeing the pain when she speaks makes her my only focus. I can’t leave her like this. I look at Warren. “Can you go by yourself?”
He looks disappointed by my question. “You expect me to know what to do?” He tosses his hands up in frustration. “You can’t stop being there for her just because you have a new girlfriend. We’re all Maggie has, and you know it.”
I’m just as frustrated by Warren’s answer as I am my own question. Of course I’m not going to stop being there for Maggie. But I don’t know how to be there for both her and Sydney right now. I didn’t really think ahead when Maggie and I split up. I doubt she thought ahead, either. But Warren is right. What kind of person would that make me if I just walked out on the girl who has depended solely on me for the past six years when it comes to her medical needs? Hell, I’m still her emergency contact. That shows how much of a support system she has in her life. And I can’t send Warren alone. He can’t even take care of himself, much less Maggie. I’m the only one who knows her medical needs. Her entire medical history. The medications she takes, the names of all her doctors, what to do in an emergency, how to operate her respiratory equipment at her house. Warren would be lost without me.
As if Sydney’s thoughts are on the same track as mine, she speaks to Warren and he signs for me. “What do you normally do when this happens?”
“Normally when this happens, Ridge goes. Sometimes we both go. But Ridge always goes. We help her get home, pick up her prescriptions, make sure she’s settled, she gets mad because she doesn’t think she needs any help, and after a day or two, she usually forces us to go back home. The same routine we’ve had since her grandfather could no longer care for her.”
“Does she not have anyone else?” Sydney asks. “Parents? Siblings? Cousins? Aunts, uncles, friends? A really reliable mailman?”
“She has relatives she doesn’t know very well who live out of state. None that would drive to pick her up at the hospital. And none that know anything at all about how to handle her medical condition. Not like Ridge does.”
Sydney looks exasperated. “She really has no one else?”
I shake my head. “She’s spent all her time focusing on college, her grandparents, and her boyfriend for six years. We are literally all she has.”
Sydney absorbs my answer and then nods slowly, like she’s trying to be understanding. But I know it’s a lot to take in. She’s probably spent the last several months trying to convince herself that Maggie and I wouldn’t get back together. I doubt she’s even thought far enough ahead to realize that even though Maggie and I are no longer in a relationship, I’m still her primary caregiver when she’s not in the position to care for herself.
I know she tolerates the occasional text messages, but because Maggie hasn’t had any episodes for the past several months, this part of mine and Maggie’s new friendship has yet to be navigated. I’ve been so focused on just getting Sydney to give me a chance, it hasn’t occurred to me until this second that Sydney might not be okay with that.
The realization hits me with the weight of a thousand bricks. If Sydney isn’t okay with this, where does that leave us? Will I be able to walk away from Maggie completely, knowing she has no one else? Would Sydney actually put me in a position to choose between her happiness and Maggie’s health?
My hands start to shake. I feel the pressure coming at me from all sides. I grab Sydney’s hand and lead her to my bedroom. When I close the door, I lean against it and pull her to my chest, squeezing her, scared to death that she’s about to put me in an unthinkable situation. And I wouldn’t blame her. Asking her to be supportive of such an unusual relationship with the girl I was in love with for years is basically asking her to be heroic.
“I love you,” I say. It’s the only thing I have the strength to say right now. I feel her sign the words back to me against my chest. She clings to me and I cling to her, and then I feel her start to cry in my arms. I press my cheek to the top of her head and hold her, wanting to take away every ounce of ache she’s feeling in her heart right now. And I could. I could text Maggie right now and tell her it’s too much for Sydney and that I can’t be a part of her life anymore.
“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.
Sydney’s leg is bouncing up and down. My pulse is pounding even faster than her leg. Warren’s conversation is dragging, taking what feels like forever to finish. I don’t know what is being said, but in the middle of the conversation, Sydney winces and then pulls her hand from mine and excuses herself from the table. I get up to follow her, just as Warren ends the call.
Now I’m standing in the middle of the living room about to rush after Sydney, but Warren starts to sign. “She passed out at a doctor’s office today. They’re keeping her overnight.”
I blow out a breath of relief. The hospitalizations for her diabetes are the best-case scenarios. It’s when she contracts a virus or a cold that it usually ends up taking weeks for her to recover.
I can tell by the look on Warren’s face that he’s not finished speaking yet. There’s something he hasn’t said. Something he said to Maggie that upset Sydney enough for her to walk away. “What else?” I ask him.
“She was crying,” he says. “She sounded…scared. But she wouldn’t tell me more than that. I told her we’re on our way.”
Maggie wants us there.
Maggie never wants us there. She always feels like she’s inconveniencing us.
Something else must have happened.
I cover my mouth with my hand, my thoughts frozen.
I turn to walk toward my bedroom, but Sydney is standing in the doorway with her shoes on and her purse over her shoulder. She’s leaving.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m not leaving because I’m mad. I just need to process all this.” She waves her hand flippantly around the room, then drops it to her side. She doesn’t leave, though. She simply stands there, confused.
I walk over to her and take her face in my hands because I’m confused, too. She just squeezes her eyes shut when I press my forehead to hers. I don’t know how to handle this situation. I have so much to say to her, but texting isn’t fast enough, and I’m not sure I can speak everything I want to say or that everything I say would even be understandable to her. I pull away from her and grab her hand, then walk her back to the table.
I motion for Warren to help us communicate if we need him. Sydney sits in her chair, and I scoot mine to where I’m right in front of her. “Are you okay?”
She seems at a loss for how to answer that question. When she finally does, I can’t understand her, so Warren signs for me. “I’m trying, Ridge. I really am.”
Just seeing the pain when she speaks makes her my only focus. I can’t leave her like this. I look at Warren. “Can you go by yourself?”
He looks disappointed by my question. “You expect me to know what to do?” He tosses his hands up in frustration. “You can’t stop being there for her just because you have a new girlfriend. We’re all Maggie has, and you know it.”
I’m just as frustrated by Warren’s answer as I am my own question. Of course I’m not going to stop being there for Maggie. But I don’t know how to be there for both her and Sydney right now. I didn’t really think ahead when Maggie and I split up. I doubt she thought ahead, either. But Warren is right. What kind of person would that make me if I just walked out on the girl who has depended solely on me for the past six years when it comes to her medical needs? Hell, I’m still her emergency contact. That shows how much of a support system she has in her life. And I can’t send Warren alone. He can’t even take care of himself, much less Maggie. I’m the only one who knows her medical needs. Her entire medical history. The medications she takes, the names of all her doctors, what to do in an emergency, how to operate her respiratory equipment at her house. Warren would be lost without me.
As if Sydney’s thoughts are on the same track as mine, she speaks to Warren and he signs for me. “What do you normally do when this happens?”
“Normally when this happens, Ridge goes. Sometimes we both go. But Ridge always goes. We help her get home, pick up her prescriptions, make sure she’s settled, she gets mad because she doesn’t think she needs any help, and after a day or two, she usually forces us to go back home. The same routine we’ve had since her grandfather could no longer care for her.”
“Does she not have anyone else?” Sydney asks. “Parents? Siblings? Cousins? Aunts, uncles, friends? A really reliable mailman?”
“She has relatives she doesn’t know very well who live out of state. None that would drive to pick her up at the hospital. And none that know anything at all about how to handle her medical condition. Not like Ridge does.”
Sydney looks exasperated. “She really has no one else?”
I shake my head. “She’s spent all her time focusing on college, her grandparents, and her boyfriend for six years. We are literally all she has.”
Sydney absorbs my answer and then nods slowly, like she’s trying to be understanding. But I know it’s a lot to take in. She’s probably spent the last several months trying to convince herself that Maggie and I wouldn’t get back together. I doubt she’s even thought far enough ahead to realize that even though Maggie and I are no longer in a relationship, I’m still her primary caregiver when she’s not in the position to care for herself.
I know she tolerates the occasional text messages, but because Maggie hasn’t had any episodes for the past several months, this part of mine and Maggie’s new friendship has yet to be navigated. I’ve been so focused on just getting Sydney to give me a chance, it hasn’t occurred to me until this second that Sydney might not be okay with that.
The realization hits me with the weight of a thousand bricks. If Sydney isn’t okay with this, where does that leave us? Will I be able to walk away from Maggie completely, knowing she has no one else? Would Sydney actually put me in a position to choose between her happiness and Maggie’s health?
My hands start to shake. I feel the pressure coming at me from all sides. I grab Sydney’s hand and lead her to my bedroom. When I close the door, I lean against it and pull her to my chest, squeezing her, scared to death that she’s about to put me in an unthinkable situation. And I wouldn’t blame her. Asking her to be supportive of such an unusual relationship with the girl I was in love with for years is basically asking her to be heroic.
“I love you,” I say. It’s the only thing I have the strength to say right now. I feel her sign the words back to me against my chest. She clings to me and I cling to her, and then I feel her start to cry in my arms. I press my cheek to the top of her head and hold her, wanting to take away every ounce of ache she’s feeling in her heart right now. And I could. I could text Maggie right now and tell her it’s too much for Sydney and that I can’t be a part of her life anymore.
