Free Maybe Someday by Colleen Hoover Page B

me know when you’re on your way.
Maggie: Love you, too. And I know you’re just concerned. I don’t expect you to agree with my decisions, but I do want you to understand them.
Me: I do understand, babe. I do. I love you.
Maggie: Love you, too.
    I drop my head forcefully against the headboard and rub my palms up and down my face out of sheer frustration. Of course, I understand her decision, but I’ll never feel good about it. She’s so frustratingly determined I seriously don’t see how I’ll ever get through to her.
    I stand up and put my phone into my back pocket, then walk to my bedroom door. When I swing it open, I’m met with a smell that I’m positive is exactly what heaven will smell like.
    Bacon.
    Warren looks up at me from the dining-room table and grins, pointing to his plate full of food. “She’s a keeper,” he signs. “The eggs suck, though. I’m only eating them because I don’t want to complain, or she might never cook for us again. Everything else is great.” He signs everything he’s saying without verbalizing it. Warren usually verbalizes all of his signed communication, out of respect for others around us. When he doesn’t verbalize, I know he wants our conversation to remain between the two of us.
    Like the silent one we’re having right now while Sydney’s in the kitchen.
    “And she even asked how we liked our coffee,” he signs.
    I glance into the kitchen. Sydney smiles, so I smile back. I’m shocked to see her in a good mood today. After we got back from our trip to the store a few days ago, she’s been spending most of the time in her room. At one point yesterday, Warren went in to ask her if she wanted any dinner, and he said she was on her bed crying, so he backed out and left her alone. I’ve wanted to check on her, but there isn’t really anything I can do to make her feel better. All she can do is give it time, so I’m glad she’s at least out of bed today.
    “And don’t look right now, Ridge. But did you see what she’s wearing? Did you see that dress?” He bites the knuckles on his fist and winces, as if simply looking at her is causing him actual physical pain.
    I shake my head and take a seat across from him. “I’ll look later.”
    He grins. “I’m so glad her boyfriend cheated on her. Otherwise, I’d be eating leftover toothpaste-filled Oreos for breakfast.”
    I laugh. “At least you wouldn’t have to brush your teeth.”
    “This was the best decision we’ve ever made,” he says. “Maybe later we can talk her into vacuuming in that dress while we sit on the couch and watch.”
    Warren laughs at his own comment, but I don’t crack a smile. I don’t think he realizes he signed and spoke that last sentence. Before I can tell him, a biscuit comes hurtling past my head and smacks him in the face. He jumps back in shock and looks at Sydney. She’s walking to the table with a Don’t mess with me look on her face. She hands me a plate of food, then sets her own plate down in front of her and takes a seat.
    “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Warren asks. I nod. He looks at Sydney, and she’s still glaring at him. “At least I was complimenting you,” he says with a shrug.
    She laughs and nods once, as if he just made a good point. She picks up her phone and begins to text. She glances at me briefly, giving her head a slight shake when my phone vibrates in my pocket. She texted me something but apparently doesn’t want me to make it obvious. I casually slide my hand into my pocket and pull my phone out, then read her text under the table.
Sydney: Don’t eat the eggs.
I look at her and arch an eyebrow, wondering what the hell is wrong with the eggs. She casually sends another text while she holds a conversation with Warren.
Sydney: I poured dish soap and baby powder in them. It’ll teach him not to write on my forehead again.
Me: WTH? When are you going to tell him?
Sydney: I’m not.
Warren: What are you and Sydney texting about?
    I look up