Part Thirteen

"I'm calling him," Michael declares that night. He has just finished brushing his teeth and washing his face; Sydney sits cross-legged on their bed.

"Michael, seriously," Sydney says, paging through a copy of People magazine. "He probably doesn't even know about Kerri being engaged yet, I hardly--"

"He knows," Michael interrupts. "He tore her heart out and danced on it, Syd, you don't think she ran to the phone to gloat to him that she'd moved on?"

"Kerri's not like that," Sydney protests.

"Oh, come on, Syd," Michael says, dropping onto the bed next to her. "She called you, like, the second it happened. What the hell was that?"

"She was excited," Sydney frowns, letting her magazine fall to the floor. "And I'm her best friend."

"Her best friend who she's talked to a total of three times in the past year," Michael points out. "Once by accident, once when she wanted to apologize for being a total bitch and to cry about Eric, and once to gloat about getting engaged."

"That's a pretty picture you paint of her." Since when were gloating and wanting to share your happy news with a friend the same thing?

"I'm just saying," Michael shrugs. "She knows that you were feeling sorry for her and thinking you were better than her, so--"

"I did not think I was better than her!"

Michael looks up at the ceiling as if trying to choose his words very carefully. "You know that's how she must see it, Syd," he says quietly. "And whether or not you consciously think that you're better than she is, you're damned happy not to be in her position, right?"

"I'm not in her position because I didn't marry a cheating asshole like Eric Weiss," Sydney mutters.

Michael just looks at her.

"What?"

Another look.

Sydney looks away. "I just acted like I was better than her, didn't I?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad, Syd," Michael says apologetically. "I'm just trying to make the case that if you know that she's getting married, Eric probably does too."

"Make the case," Sydney mutters. "I had to marry a lawyer, didn't I?"

He kisses her lightly. "I'm calling him," he says, climbing out of bed.

"Michael, don't--"

"I'm not going to give him shit about Ben Strand," Michael insists. A grin spreads over his face. "I won't even mention how Ben Strand is going to be married to his wife and raising his kids."

"It's not funny, Michael," Sydney scolds.

"Sure it is," Michael responds. "Now, if Kerri had actually dumped him for Ben Strand, then it wouldn't be funny." He pauses and reconsiders. "Well, it'd be a little funny."

Sydney finally allows herself a laugh. It wasn't exactly funny that Eric Weiss was experiencing what had to be his worst nightmare come true, but well…it served him right. "Call him."

"Thank you," Michael says, leaning over to kiss her. "Seriously, Syd. I'm just calling to feel out the situation. I won't mention Kerri marrying Ben Strand unless he does." He picks up the phone and dials.

"It's Saturday night, Mike, he's probably not even--"

"Eric!" Michael exclaims, shooting Sydney a triumphant look. "Hey, man. It's Mike…yeah, I know, I know…they're great, Eric. Jack is growing into quite the little hockey player, you should see him. I guarantee you he could kick your ass already."

Sydney rolls her eyes.

"Emily's just about the cutest thing you ever saw, and Grace is so beautiful. Getting bigger every day. How are yours?…Yeah?" Sydney watches Michael laugh, presumably at something one of Eric's sons had done. Eric and Kerri's kids were little wild men. "Syd's doing great…uh-huh…so what do you hear from Kerri?"

"Smooth, Mike," Sydney mutters.

"Yeah, I know," Michael says with a grin. Sydney can tell he has just been waiting for Eric to say that Kerri was marrying Ben Strand so he could start in. "Ben Strand, man! Hey, I'm coming to LA next weekend, I might even get to meet him…hell yeah, man. Me, Syd, Kerri, and Ben Strand, hanging out. Who knows, I might even invite him to come visit us at our beach house."

"Michael," Sydney sighs. He can be such a child sometimes.

He offers her a quick glance and a smile before turning his attention back to Eric. "We're getting one, though…Jamaica, mon." His grin widens, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "Two hockey playing sons. Syd's pregnant again."

"It might not be a son, Mike," Sydney says, but she can't help but smile. He's just so adorably giddy.

"Our new little girl can be a hockey player," he tells her, mirth glinting in his eyes. The happy expression doesn't last long. "Hey, look, Eric," he says, suddenly serious. Eric has apparently tired of his shit. "The trick is not wanting more once you have it all." He perches on the edge of the bed. "Okay, at least, not wanting more that conflicts that you already have." His handsome face contorts into a stormy expression. "Hey, Weiss. Just because you need some twenty-five-year-old piece of ass to make you feel like a man-- well, so is Kerri," Michael says angrily. "She's one of the best there is, and you fucked up."

Sydney watches Michael's expression as he listens to Eric's response. It seems to grow calmer for a moment. "I don't know, Eric. I don't think Syd would want to do that."

"Want to do what?"

Michael covers the receiver with his hand. "Go out to dinner with him and Shawna."

Sydney gives him a look of utter disgust.

"No, she doesn't want to," Michael tells Eric. His own expression grows disgusted. "You're being a complete ass, do you know that? Don't-- maybe. We'll see." A pause. "Fuck you." He hangs up the phone and throws it across the room. It hits the wall and the cordless phone's battery falls off.

"What the hell was that?" Sydney demands, eyes wide.

Michael shakes his head, climbing into bed beside her.

"You were right. I shouldn't have called him."