good/right/real

Chapter 32: And Yet

Summary: Complications arise.

The next morning, Pete wakes her up unreasonably early. They were out very late the night before. Sylvie guzzled down as much water as she did alcohol while they went out to various clubs in order to avoid a hangover. She was very grateful she had, especially after being woken up by her boyfriend at 6 AM on a Sunday.

"Sorry," he says as she grumbles and yawns. "Didn't want you to wake up and wonder where I went. I have breakfast with my mom and sister before church."

Sylvie smiles softly at him with questioning eyes. "Church?"

He shrugs as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls on his pants. "I go every other Sunday to avoid being lectured about never going."

Sylvie chuckles and wraps her arms around him from behind. She rests her chin on his shoulder before placing a quick to his jaw. "That's sweet, and sounds like a pretty fair trade."

"You should come with me next time," he says, trying to sound breezy. "My family has been bugging me about when they get to meet you."

She's touched that they ask about her and that he would want her to meet them. "Well, you did go dancing with me last night. I owe you an outing."

He chuckles and stands, scooping up his shirt. "You do."

"I would love to go with you next time," she agrees. "Let's just make sure we don't go out clubbing the night before."

He leans down toward the bed and kisses her quickly. "Deal. I've gotta run, but I'll call you later. Okay?"

She nods. "Okay. Have fun."

She goes back to sleep after he leaves until a yelp sounds from the kitchen. She races out of bed, pulls on a robe and slippers, and runs to investigate. She finds Stella with her sleep tank drenched and the sink sprayer in her hand.

"Sylvie, we are calling an actual plumber or I'm raising hell with the landlord," Stella says through clenched teeth.

She bites back a laugh at Stella's expense. "Please don't raise hell with the landlord. I don't want to be evicted. We can't afford a plumber. I'll call Pete later."

"Babe," Stella starts as she grabs a kitchen towel and tries to dry off. "I love you and Mills dearly but this is the third time he's tried to fix the sink and he's only made it worse every time."

Sylvie chews on her bottom lip for a moment before reluctantly nodding. Objectively, Stella's right. She'd never tell Pete that, though. She wouldn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Okay," she says. "I won't call Pete." Her eyes fall to her record player and the floating shelves Matt helped her rig up. "Oh! I'll call Matt!" She narrows her eyes on Stella. "But we do not mention a word of this to Pete. It's our secret, clear?"

"As long as the sink's fixed then I'll keep whatever secret you want," Stella promises.

Sylvie showers and changes clothes, runs to the nearest store for a six pack of Matt's favorite beer, and then calls him when she gets back home. He agrees to take a look and tells her he'll be right there. He arrives a half hour later and Sylvie sits at the kitchen table while he lays down with his head in the cabinet, to get a better look at the plumbing. It's very reminiscent of the night before only with Matt in place of Pete.

Speaking of...

She nervously clears her throat. "So, thank you for coming over. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. Anytime. I wouldn't want Kidd to get you kicked out on the street for telling off your landlord."