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The front door opened, revealing Syd in all her glory: cream-colored suit, matching boots, gold and ivory beads studding her long braids. “Love you too, dad!” she called over her shoulder.
Marcus waited till she’d turned back around, then burst into applause.
“Shut up,” said Syd, cracking into a crooked grin.
“Did I say a thing?”
He opened the passenger side car door for her as she descended the stairs.
“No,” said Syd, “but it was a preemptive strike.”
“Oh, so we not even waiting for casus belli now.” His eyes lingered on her as she got close.
“You and your Ken Burns.” She took a critical look at him, then stepped in to adjust his tie. If she noticed he was still watching her, she didn’t show it.
Marcus, too, knew how to carry on. “You should join Chester and me for documentary night sometime. We’re doing the Vietnam War next.”
“I will, I will.”
He scoffed affectionately. “No you won’t.”
“I mean…” She looked up at him with a mischievous smile. “When it comes to the Vietnam War, I already know how it’s gonna end. You know that, right?”
“I—” Marcus was laughing. Syd gestured widely.
“Like I don’t want to spoil it for you, but it’s not gonna go well, that Vietnam War.”
“I do have an idea of what’s gonna happen. But it’s all about the journey.”
Still looking up at him, Syd took a half-step to the side and put her hand on the top of the door, an inch from his.
“Those things take so long,” she said. “You better enjoy the journey.”
“You know,” said Marcus. He was looking her in the eye with that particular glint that she had lately started reading less as danger and more as temptation. “I really do.”