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Alex fell asleep shortly after Charlie came and checked in on them. Charlie held the baby so tenderly, cradled him as if the gesture were some kind of apology to Joel. That his birth was their replacement for Joel, somewhere his spirit could linger and be amongst them still.
Maybe the baby was Joel's. Maggie tilted her head and tried to imagine Joel's features in the pink, wrinkled frown, tried to picture Joel in the petulant newborn kicks and sleepy fists.
Sydney appeared in the doorway, changed out of her scrubs and coat. She looked just about as tired as the rest of them, but there was a brightness in her eyes that smiled when Maggie looked at her.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Sydney came a step closer. “I was wondering if you wanted to have a drink. You know, to celebrate.”
Maggie had to smile. “You're sweet.”
“We don't have to.”
“No,” Maggie said, standing. “I'd love to.”
-
They ended up at a small dive bar, a dark but still kinda homey joint run by a Haitian transplant named Christopher. They sat at the end of the bar, sharing the bittersweet moment over shots of tequila and then — Maggie would never have guessed — Midori and pineapple for Sydney, and Glenfiddich for herself.
"Thank you so much for calling the Boards," she said, as Sydney drained the last of her drink. "It sounds so terrible, I know Alex had to deliver the baby but I kept thinking, if I had to wait for next year..."
Sydney smiled. "You were great today. More than ready."
"I couldn't have done it without you."
“I guess I did sandpaper down your rough edges.”
Maggie snorted with laughter. Sydney's eyes smiled at her again, bright and self-assured, and right then, they both knew.
Maggie finished off her whisky. The burn slid down her throat like an old comfort.
“Wanna get out of here?”
“Yeah,” Sydney said, brushing her hand over Maggie's as she slipped off the bar stool. In the dusky light, her eyes burned as bright as the lamps hidden in the alcoves behind the bar. Maggie swallowed, and saw Sydney's gaze follow the bobbing of her throat, and right then the temperature seemed to rise.
They left the bar like normal people, but Maggie felt Sydney's eyes on her back as they walked out into the cooling air. “Where—” she began, turning to Sydney, but Sydney was unexpectedly close and immediately behind her, and electricity sparked between them.
“My place,” Sydney whispered, or maybe she was speaking at a regular volume but Maggie couldn't hear properly with all the blood buzzing in her ears. “It's not far.”
“Okay,” Maggie agreed. She didn't quite know where Sydney's apartment was. They'd talked about the suburb before, but—what was the name? Sydney was already several steps ahead of her, and she turned back and grabbed Maggie by the hand.
“Come on,” she laughed, tugging Maggie from where the pavement had grown roots around her feet. “It's this way.”
-
Sydney's apartment was nice. There was a beaded craft sign with Hebrew inscribed on it hanging on the wall just past the entranceway, but for the most part was sparsely decorated. A wooden dining table with four chairs around it, a comfortable-looking lounge suite with reclining armchair and no coffee table, and a bookshelf bursting with hard- and soft-cover books arranged in order of thickness.
Sydney took Maggie's coat and hung it on a peg on the wall. Maggie watched her turn the collar so it wouldn't crease, and brush the sleeves down to straighten them, all the while wondering what to do with her shoes. Her father always insisted that shoes were for outside the house, while her mother constantly frustrated him by traipsing all over the carpet in heels. Was there a Jewish custom? Did Sydney's grandmother ever also make her clean her shoes on the 欢迎 mat before she could enter the house?
“Maggie,” Sydney said, a little loudly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Maggie replied, and decided right then and there that she would take her shoes off now. “I might be a little nervous.”
She couldn't read the look on Sydney's face, but Sydney crossed the short distance between them and kissed her just like she had that first time. Neither of them let go.
Sydney kept kissing her, tentative and light, fairy kisses that merely brushed the air between them, as if anticipating that Maggie would pull away any second. None of that this time, Maggie thought, as she cupped Sydney's face in her hands and brushed her cheek with her thumb.
“Hey,” she said, “I won't break.”
“I know,” Sydney replied, ducking her head with a tiny sad smile that twisted Maggie's stomach into tiny sad knots. “But I might.”
“Oh,” Maggie gasped, and pulled Sydney closer by the hip. They fit, their curves and angles, in a sort of soft and haphazard way. Sydney smiled and pressed into Maggie's body, and the sweet taste of pineapple combined with the smooth swipe of her tongue over Maggie's lip tripped Maggie's heart like a stutter.
“Just keep falling, right?” Sydney murmured in her ear. Her fingers threaded through Maggie's hair.
Maggie closed her eyes and breathed Sydney in. “We're going to be okay.”