Chap.15- Pointing Out the Obvious
Two days had passed without Bridgette mentioning anything about Sydney to Vaughn. He was curious of her thoughts and feelings but hadn't brought anything up for his own benefit, feeling that it would be best not to create an unnecessary uncomfortable situation.
Mark, Ana, and James had made good progress on the fence, although they weren't even halfway done. Each day, they walked out the door with paintbrushes and buckets of paint and returned back to the house for lunch, tired. By dinner time, they were exhausted and after managing to finish their food without falling asleep, the three would support each other up the stairs and fall into their beds.
Their absence always left an uncomfortable void and silence between Bridgette, Vaughn, and Sydney during dinner time. Bridgette, not wanting Sydney to know about her newly gained knowledge, kept her mouth shut. Vaughn, worried about what his mother would say to Sydney, was silent, in fear that anything he said would provoke her. Sydney, feeling as if she was forever the intruder between Bridgette and Vaughn's mother-son time would finish her dinner as quickly as possible and excuse herself to her room.
Bridgette and Vaughn sat in silence, toying with the food on their plates.
"I won't say anything, Michael." Bridgette said suddenly.
"I know." He answered and sighed in frustration.
"Everything will be fine." Bridgette said, standing up and picking up their plates, heading to the sink.
Vaughn watched his mother's back as she scrubbed at the plates.
"How do you know?"
"I don't." She said. Shaking water droplets from her hands, she untied her apron and tossed it over a chair. She stood with her hands on her hips and looked at him pointedly. "Nothing is certain, Michael."
Ana was sprawled on the large bed while Mark and James had been forced onto the floor. They had become accustomed the painting work and had since preserved enough energy to lie like this together in one room, talking and joking with each other as if they were normal college friends.
Ana flipped onto her stomach and leaned over the edge of the bed, observing Mark and James,
"Hey." She said, trying to catch their attention.
"Hey..." Mark said groggily, lifting his arm and dropping it lazily, almost falling asleep on the comfortable rug.
"What's up?" James asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Did you notice...like, something between Sydney and Michael?"
"What do you mean?" James asked, confused.
Ana thought, searching for better words.
"Do you ever notice that Sydney and Michael...don't act normally around each other?"
"Yea..." James answered, his mind clicking.
"Well...duh." Mark said, butting into their conversation. He was now wide awake and he too, had flipped onto his stomach.
"What do you mean, 'well...duh'?" Ana asked, irritated.
"Don't you guys EVER listen?"
"To what?" Ana and James asked in unison.
"The secretaries..." Mark answered, rolling his eyes.
"No, I'm sorry," Ana retorted. "We don't hit on them."
"Ha. Ha." Mark laughed sarcastically, but suddenly smiled at his fond memories of the secretaries.
"Go on!" Ana urged.
"What have we said about interruptions before?" Mark asked, seriously.
"Don't interrupt when Mark is experiencing a moment or he will lose his train of thought..." James recited obediently.
"But..." Ana started.
"Bup bup." Mark said, cutting her off. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"
Ana closed her mouth and looked at him expectantly. After a few moments, she reached over and waved her hand over his face.
"Well...?"
"Shh..." Mark said, shushing her, his eyes closed in mock concentration.
Ana groaned, sprawling over on her back and staring at the ceiling, telling herself to at least count to twenty until she could strangle him.
"Go on," Ana repeated slowly through gritted teeth.
James looked at her hardened face and looked at Mark, quickly catching his eye and motioning for him to cut it out.
"Well..." Mark started. "It seems that Michael and Sydney had been going out and everything for a while and when things were getting serious, Sydney disappeared for two years, and thinking that she was dead, Michael married the Mrs. Vaughn we know today..."
James openly expressed his shock while Ana glared at Michael.
"Yea...I know that!" Ana said, irritatingly.
"How?" Mark and James asked in unison.
"Why is that such a shock?"
"It's a classified case. Highly confidential and kept from all new personnel. The only secretaries that know about it would be the ones that were working there when it happened because there was an extensive search that lasted for months." Mark explained quickly.
James frowned and looked at Mark strangely.
"Whoa...back up. You're saying that you're hitting on the old secretaries?"
Mark grinned widely and readjusted his collar.
"I have a thing for older women..."
James and Ana looked at him in disgust.
"Ew...um...let's not go into that." Ana remarked. After a couple minutes of silence, Ana leaned over and punched Mark on the arm.
"What the hell was that for?" He asked, rubbing his arm, insulted.
"You lead me on that chase for THAT?"
"Sorry."
Ana looked at him thoughtfully and shook her head.
"No. I don't think it's that. There's something else there...I can't pinpoint it though..."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I just think that there's something else. I can't explain it."
Mark rubbed the stubble forming on his chin.
"Well...there WAS something else, now that I think of it."
"What?" James asked.
"I was talking to Michael's secretary one day when Kendall told me to get that file for him, and she saying something like she can't imagine how his wife takes it."
"Takes what?"
"Come on. You both know how much Michael works. It's not even funny how much paperwork that man can get done."
"What's your point?"
"The man never goes home before eight."
"Does he even EAT?" James asked, incredulously.
"What are you trying to say?" Ana asked Mark.
Mark sighed.
"I'm saying...that they obviously don't have a healthy relationship. I mean, how many years have they been married? I don't see any kids. He never takes a vacation or even a sick day."
"Well you can't conclude anything off of that." James argued.
"I know." Mark shrugged. "I know. Just pointing out the obvious..."
Sydney walked out from her room, noting that Vaughn's door was closed and that the light was on. She walked down the hall and down the stairs. The living room and kitchen was empty and after poking her head quickly into the study, dining room, and family room, she could see that Bridgette was no where in sight.
She opened a few cupboards and after finding the cups, took down a glass, filling it to the brim with water and after drinking that quickly, she refilled her glass again, trying to rid her mouth of the taste of her already digested dinner.
"Saltine crackers were the life preservers through my pregnancy with Michael..." Bridgette said, handing Sydney a box of crackers and headed up the stairs.
Two days had passed without Bridgette mentioning anything about Sydney to Vaughn. He was curious of her thoughts and feelings but hadn't brought anything up for his own benefit, feeling that it would be best not to create an unnecessary uncomfortable situation.
Mark, Ana, and James had made good progress on the fence, although they weren't even halfway done. Each day, they walked out the door with paintbrushes and buckets of paint and returned back to the house for lunch, tired. By dinner time, they were exhausted and after managing to finish their food without falling asleep, the three would support each other up the stairs and fall into their beds.
Their absence always left an uncomfortable void and silence between Bridgette, Vaughn, and Sydney during dinner time. Bridgette, not wanting Sydney to know about her newly gained knowledge, kept her mouth shut. Vaughn, worried about what his mother would say to Sydney, was silent, in fear that anything he said would provoke her. Sydney, feeling as if she was forever the intruder between Bridgette and Vaughn's mother-son time would finish her dinner as quickly as possible and excuse herself to her room.
Bridgette and Vaughn sat in silence, toying with the food on their plates.
"I won't say anything, Michael." Bridgette said suddenly.
"I know." He answered and sighed in frustration.
"Everything will be fine." Bridgette said, standing up and picking up their plates, heading to the sink.
Vaughn watched his mother's back as she scrubbed at the plates.
"How do you know?"
"I don't." She said. Shaking water droplets from her hands, she untied her apron and tossed it over a chair. She stood with her hands on her hips and looked at him pointedly. "Nothing is certain, Michael."
Ana was sprawled on the large bed while Mark and James had been forced onto the floor. They had become accustomed the painting work and had since preserved enough energy to lie like this together in one room, talking and joking with each other as if they were normal college friends.
Ana flipped onto her stomach and leaned over the edge of the bed, observing Mark and James,
"Hey." She said, trying to catch their attention.
"Hey..." Mark said groggily, lifting his arm and dropping it lazily, almost falling asleep on the comfortable rug.
"What's up?" James asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Did you notice...like, something between Sydney and Michael?"
"What do you mean?" James asked, confused.
Ana thought, searching for better words.
"Do you ever notice that Sydney and Michael...don't act normally around each other?"
"Yea..." James answered, his mind clicking.
"Well...duh." Mark said, butting into their conversation. He was now wide awake and he too, had flipped onto his stomach.
"What do you mean, 'well...duh'?" Ana asked, irritated.
"Don't you guys EVER listen?"
"To what?" Ana and James asked in unison.
"The secretaries..." Mark answered, rolling his eyes.
"No, I'm sorry," Ana retorted. "We don't hit on them."
"Ha. Ha." Mark laughed sarcastically, but suddenly smiled at his fond memories of the secretaries.
"Go on!" Ana urged.
"What have we said about interruptions before?" Mark asked, seriously.
"Don't interrupt when Mark is experiencing a moment or he will lose his train of thought..." James recited obediently.
"But..." Ana started.
"Bup bup." Mark said, cutting her off. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"
Ana closed her mouth and looked at him expectantly. After a few moments, she reached over and waved her hand over his face.
"Well...?"
"Shh..." Mark said, shushing her, his eyes closed in mock concentration.
Ana groaned, sprawling over on her back and staring at the ceiling, telling herself to at least count to twenty until she could strangle him.
"Go on," Ana repeated slowly through gritted teeth.
James looked at her hardened face and looked at Mark, quickly catching his eye and motioning for him to cut it out.
"Well..." Mark started. "It seems that Michael and Sydney had been going out and everything for a while and when things were getting serious, Sydney disappeared for two years, and thinking that she was dead, Michael married the Mrs. Vaughn we know today..."
James openly expressed his shock while Ana glared at Michael.
"Yea...I know that!" Ana said, irritatingly.
"How?" Mark and James asked in unison.
"Why is that such a shock?"
"It's a classified case. Highly confidential and kept from all new personnel. The only secretaries that know about it would be the ones that were working there when it happened because there was an extensive search that lasted for months." Mark explained quickly.
James frowned and looked at Mark strangely.
"Whoa...back up. You're saying that you're hitting on the old secretaries?"
Mark grinned widely and readjusted his collar.
"I have a thing for older women..."
James and Ana looked at him in disgust.
"Ew...um...let's not go into that." Ana remarked. After a couple minutes of silence, Ana leaned over and punched Mark on the arm.
"What the hell was that for?" He asked, rubbing his arm, insulted.
"You lead me on that chase for THAT?"
"Sorry."
Ana looked at him thoughtfully and shook her head.
"No. I don't think it's that. There's something else there...I can't pinpoint it though..."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I just think that there's something else. I can't explain it."
Mark rubbed the stubble forming on his chin.
"Well...there WAS something else, now that I think of it."
"What?" James asked.
"I was talking to Michael's secretary one day when Kendall told me to get that file for him, and she saying something like she can't imagine how his wife takes it."
"Takes what?"
"Come on. You both know how much Michael works. It's not even funny how much paperwork that man can get done."
"What's your point?"
"The man never goes home before eight."
"Does he even EAT?" James asked, incredulously.
"What are you trying to say?" Ana asked Mark.
Mark sighed.
"I'm saying...that they obviously don't have a healthy relationship. I mean, how many years have they been married? I don't see any kids. He never takes a vacation or even a sick day."
"Well you can't conclude anything off of that." James argued.
"I know." Mark shrugged. "I know. Just pointing out the obvious..."
Sydney walked out from her room, noting that Vaughn's door was closed and that the light was on. She walked down the hall and down the stairs. The living room and kitchen was empty and after poking her head quickly into the study, dining room, and family room, she could see that Bridgette was no where in sight.
She opened a few cupboards and after finding the cups, took down a glass, filling it to the brim with water and after drinking that quickly, she refilled her glass again, trying to rid her mouth of the taste of her already digested dinner.
"Saltine crackers were the life preservers through my pregnancy with Michael..." Bridgette said, handing Sydney a box of crackers and headed up the stairs.