Part Eleven

Sydney wakes the next morning to find Michael sitting at the end of the bed, lacing up a casual pair of brown leather shoes. A quick once-over shows that he is wearing a polo shirt and khakis-- standard attire for a Saturday at the office.

"You really have to go in today, baby?" she asks sleepily.

"Sorry, honey," he says apologetically, moving to her side to kiss her good morning. "Not for very long, I promise. Till noon or one."

"Okay," she sighs.

"It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day," Michael says. "Want to meet me in the city later? We could take the kids to the park."

Sydney brightens. "I can pack a picnic."

"Sounds great," Michael says, giving her another kiss. "Oh, and hey, I wanted to tell you. The more I think about the beach house idea, the more I like it."

"What, after you retire?" she asks, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Sooner than that," he says. "Why not just buy it, Syd? Have somewhere to go for a few weeks in the summer, Christmas, whenever."

"I don't know, Michael," she says skeptically. "A beach house sounds like the kind of thing people buy after their kids are away at college."

"Then the kids won't be able to enjoy it as much, though," he points out. "Think of the great summers we can have, baby."

She shakes her head with a smile. He's like this-- he gets an idea in his head, and that's it, they're doing it. "And where were you thinking of buying this little piece of paradise, darling?"

A goofy smile spreads over his face. "Jamaica."

Her eyebrows shoot practically to the ceiling. "Jamaica?"

"Yeah," he says excitedly. "I checked it out, and property there is less expensive than in Malibu or the Hamptons."

"You checked it out? Mike, we started talking about this last night, and it's--" she glances at the bedside clock. "Six o'clock in the morning."

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I got on the Internet," he shrugs.

"No wonder I was cold," she pouts.

"Oh, and if you still want to go to LA," he continues. "I checked on my schedule and flights and stuff, an we could leave next Friday. Did you want to take the kids?"

"I-- hadn't really thought about it," she says, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Yeah, I guess. I'm sure everyone would like to see them."

"Fantastic, I'll book it, then," he says, practically hopping up from the bed.

"Michael?" she says warily.

"Yeah?"

"You're acting like you're on drugs."

"Nah," he says dismissively. "I'm just excited."

You're insane, is what you are, she thinks. Out loud, she says, "Just think on the beach house idea for awhile, okay? I think it's more of an investment and an undertaking than you're imagining it is. We'd have to pay someone to go in there and clean, take care of the lawn, we'd have to pick out furniture--"

"You love picking out furniture," he interrupts.

She rolls her eyes. "We haven't even started redoing the nursery yet."

He sits beside her on the bed, kissing her lightly. "I wasn't planning on making any offers or even going down and looking at places any time soon," he assures her. "It's just something I definitely think we should think about doing in the next few years."

"After the baby is born."

"After the baby is born," he agrees. "Unless we find something really great--"

She groans, flopping back down on the bed. "You're exhausting me, Michael."

"Go back to sleep, then," he says with a laugh. "I'll call later, okay, and let you know when I think I'll be done."

"Okay," she says, her face buried in a pillow.

He kisses the back of her neck. "Have a good morning, baby. I love you."

"Love you, Michael."

She waits a few moments after he's left to rise from be bed and throw on a robe over her pajamas and go to check on Grace. Her youngest daughter is still sleeping like an angel, so she heads to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and see about picnic preparations and breakfast for Jack and Em-- they love it when she fixes pancakes on the weekends, but they won't be up for awhile.

She has no sooner located the picnic basket, though, when the phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Syd, it's Kerri."

"Kerri?" Sydney repeats in disbelief. "What time is it over there?"

"It's super early, or late, or whatever you want to call it." Sydney frowns. Her friend is practically gushing. Before she has a chance to wonder what the hell has made everyone so excitable this morning, Kerri gushes, "I'm getting married, Sydney!"

Sydney nearly drops the phone. "Excuse me?"

"I'm getting married," Kerri gushes-- there is really no other word to describe what she is doing. "His name is Ben and he's a television producer and he's wonderful and he just ran out to get some groceries to make us breakfast so I'm calling you!"

"Kerri," Sydney says, more than a little taken aback. She realizes it's been more than a couple of months since she last spoke to her friend-- as she'd feared, the two of them hadn't really kept in touch since Kerri's last visit to New York. Still, this seems more than a little sudden. "This is--"

"Oh, he's pulling into the driveway, Syd, I have to go. Oh, hey, real quick, I didn't even get to ask what's new with you."

"I'm pregnant again," Sydney manages.

"You are? Hey, that's-- oh, I've really gotta go, Syd. I'll call you later, okay? Bye!"

She hangs up, leaving Sydney staring at the phone as if it were some mysterious foreign object. She finally shakes her head and hangs it up, wondering if everyone she knows has gone crazy.