“Doesn’t look good, Mil,” Joe said with a laugh. “Sam is going down.”
“Don’t be mean, Joe!” I pretended to scowl at him. “How could she shoot him down? He’s such a great guy.” Honestly! Didn’t Katie want him coming through the door every night, catching the boys in his arms, giving her a kiss? Didn’t she want the stability and kindness he offered? And he was tall and lean and had those nice lines around his eyes that were so…And let’s not forget his union benefits! What the hell was wrong with her? She was leaning closer to him, but definitely not in a good way. In a “Go to your room” way.
“Glad I’m not Sam right now,” Joe said. “Hey, Chris, can I get a beer?”
Chris obliged. “What are you guys watching?” he asked.
“Nothing!” I said, squeezing Joe’s warm, hard bicep. Oh, boy. I drew a quick breath. “Nothing, right Joe?”
Again he smiled at me. “Right, Millie.”
With difficulty, I turned my attention back to Sam and Katie. Hey, this was good. Katie and Sam were laughing! She patted his arm. Oh, hooray! And Sam looked infinitely more relaxed.
“Okay, I think I can go back,” I said. “Have a good night, Joe. Bye, Chris.”
“Nice to see you, Millie,” Joe said before turning to the bar.
Yes! I had spoken with Joe, we had shared a mildly intimate moment, and oh, Lord, I had squeezed his arm! And what a lovely arm it was! And Sam and Katie chatting away! Making my way back to the table, my heart was full of joy.
“So what’s up?” I asked innocently, taking my seat.
“We’re getting married,” Katie answered, and she and Sam burst into laughter.
My heart stopped singing. “You’re both idiots,” I mumbled.
“No bridesmaid dress for you,” Sam said. I gave him the finger, which just made him laugh harder.
The amusement ended as Katie and I drove home.
“Millie, I can’t believe you forced Sam to ask me out,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Forced, nothing! Come on, Katie. Don’t you know how pretty you are? How great? I mean, all that stuff about wanting to concentrate on the boys is noble and all, but don’t you want someone in your life? Honestly?”
“No, Millie, I don’t!”
“Well, I don’t understand,” I said, looking out the window.
“I know you don’t,” she answered sharply. “No offense, Millie, but you don’t know what’s best for my boys. I do. It isn’t a stepfather.”
“Not even Sam? Sam is so wonderful! How can you not want Sam?”
She shot me a veiled look. “Sam is great, yes, and no, not even Sam.”
“But why? What about you? What about your—”
“Millie, back off!” she barked. She turned suddenly into the Visitors Center parking lot, tires squealing, and jerked to a stop. She took a deep breath and turned to me, her voice tight and quiet. “Listen, you’re my best friend, okay? You’ve done so many nice things for me…I—Look. I love you and you’re great. But for crying out loud, stop trying to fix my life! It’s not broken, Millie!”
“I’m not saying it is,” I began.
“Yes, you are!” She gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Millie, I know you mean well. But the thing is, you’re pretty goddamn condescending when it comes to me.”
“What?” I gasped.
“You think that if I just hook up with Sam, then everything in my sad little life will be fine. I’ve got news for you, Millie. I’m fine. My boys are fine. My being alone is not sad. Our life is not sad, it’s wonderful! I wish you’d get that through your head and just…just…just be friends with me. Stop treating me like I’m your charity case, okay?”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Katie, I don’t think of you as a charity case. God,” I sniffled.
She stared ahead at the locust trees illuminated in the parking-lot lights. “Look. When Elliott first left me, you were a rock. I’m really, really grateful for all that you did. I am. All those trips up from Boston, all those Chinese-food dinners you’d bring me…” Her voice softened. “You were the best. But now things are better with me. I’m making decent money. The truth is, I probably make more than you, Millie. Chris made me a manager, I make a couple hundred a week in tips alone, and now I’m getting benefits. I’m even saving up for a house. Corey and Mike are doing great. I don’t need you to prop me up, Millie. And I really, really don’t need—or want—a husband. Okay?”
I rummaged around in my purse for a tissue. “Okay,” I whispered. “I never meant to make you feel like that, Katie.”
“I know. And I know you can’t imagine wanting to be single. But you’re going to have to accept that I do want it.”
“Okay,” I said.
She continued looking at me with her lovely blue eyes. “I love you, Millie,” she said solemnly. “I love hanging out with you, I love the way your crazy mind thinks, I never laugh so hard with anybody the way I do with you. I want us to be friends forever, but you have to start thinking of me as an equal. Okay?”
“You’re not my equal. You’re my hero.” I leaned over and hugged her. “I’m really sorry.”
She hesitated, then chuckled and patted my shoulder. “Let’s go out sometime, just the two of us, okay? Maybe we can do an overnight or something. No matchmaking, no Joe Carpenter, just you and me.”
“That sounds fantastic,” I said. And I meant it.
IT’S VERY HUMBLING TO REALIZE you’ve been an idiot, especially to someone you care about. With that in mind, I headed for Sam’s the next day. He and Danny were working in the yard, hefting bags of mulch and looking very sweaty and manly. Both of them were shirtless, and I noticed for the first time that my baby nephew had washboard abs. So did his daddy. Had Sam always been so…built? Very nice.
“Oh, such masculine pulchritude!” I called out, hoping Sam wasn’t as mad as Katie had been. “Clothe yourselves, boys! There’s a woman on your property.”
“Get my gun, Dan,” Sam answered. They stopped their machismo activity and came to greet me, Danny giving me a sweaty smooch.
“Hey, Aunt Mil,” he said. “Dad told me how you tried to fix him and Katie up.”
“And wasn’t it a great idea?” I asked.
“I thought it was,” he replied agreeably.
“Thanks, young man,” I said. “Sorry to say, we’re a minority.”
Sam pulled on an old T-shirt. Without looking at me, he said, “Dan, could you get us something to drink?”
“He just wants me out of the way while he chews you out, Aunt Mil,” my nephew whispered loudly. He grinned cheekily and bounded off to the house.
“He’s right,” Sam confirmed, folding his arms. He gave me the old “I’m disappointed in you” stare. The kind that really works.
“Before you lecture me,” I said, “I want to apologize. I’m really sorry. I just thought…I don’t know, you guys would be so…I’m sorry.” I kicked at his shell driveway, trying to look genuine. I peeked. He wasn’t fooled.
“Uh-huh,” he said. A grin tugged at his mouth, but he tried to look stern.
“Katie reamed me another orifice last night,” I said. “And I’ve sworn off matchmaking, so even though you two would be perfect together, I’ll just leave it alone and let you walk away from what could be the greatest love of your life.”
“Well, you know, in one sense, it was nice of you to think of us. But in the other, you’re a real pain in the ass,” he said, far too seriously for my taste.
“Sam!” I cried. “Come on! I just wanted to help. You’re just too pathetic, sitting around here, mooning over Trish. It’s time you—”
“I think you should shut up now, Millie,” Sam said quietly. Any amusement he’d felt was gone. A warning prickle went through me.
“Sam, it’s just hard to see you—”
“Millie. Stop talking. You’re a great person, and I appreciate your concern over me, but the thing is, you don’t know squat about marriage, or divorce. Or, obviously, how I’m feeling these days. Not to mention how Katie feels about dating. So the best thing you can do is go back to the ‘I’m sorry’ part of your little speech and leave it at that before I get really mad. Okay?”
I swallowed at the idea of Sam not liking me. Bending to pull up a weed, I said—sincerely, this time—“Okay, Sam. I really am sorry. I think you’re the best guy in the world, you know that. I just want you to be happy.”
His hard expression softened, his sad, downturning eyes crinkling with a smile. “I know, kiddo. You’re off the hook, as long as you’ve learned your lesson. Now stop killing my flowers and come have some lemonade.” He took the plant out of my hands and replaced it gently in the flower bed.
Inside the house, Sam went to shower. Relieved that I was forgiven, I made Danny lunch, because the poor boy was weak with hunger, having only eaten, from his recounting anyway, eight pancakes for breakfast an hour and a half before. As I slathered mayonnaise on four slices of bread, he leaned on the counter, nearly drooling.
“Mom wants me to come and visit her for a couple of weeks this summer,” he said.
I hadn’t seen my sister since our brief encounter at our parents’ house. Aside from a couple of perfunctory phone calls and two e-mails telling me about the fabulous parties she’d been to with Mr. New Jersey, we hadn’t really talked. Sometimes I felt that my role of younger sister was just to admire and agree with Trish.
“Are you going to go?” I asked.
“Well, actually, I don’t think I can, what with Appalachia and my job and the baseball team and stuff. But I might go for a long weekend before school lets out.”
“How is it for you when you’re down there?” I asked, layering cheese and turkey and thick slices of tomato on the bread.
“Well, it’s not too bad. A little uncomfortable, a little weird, but mostly okay. She came up to see me a couple days ago, did Dad tell you? We had dinner, just her and me. It was nice.”
“No, your dad didn’t mention it. How is she?”
Danny grabbed one of the sandwiches and stuffed a third of it into his mouth. “She’s good, I guess. Seems happy.” He paused to swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing wildly. “She looks great.”
“She always does,” Sam said, laying a hand on my shoulder as he leaned in to claim a sandwich. The smell of shampoo and soap wafted toward me. I started making two more sandwiches, knowing how these boys ate.
“And how was it for you, seeing her?” I asked Sam, curious.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, making it spike up. “Oh, it was okay. Strange, but not bad. She was just here for a little while to pick Danny up and then drop him off again. It was…fine.” Whatever mysterious emotions Sam had running through him, he seemed to mean what he said. I reminded myself not to assume I knew everything about the people I loved and opened a bag of chips.
Danny inhaled the second sandwich, gulped down some milk and wiped his mouth. “Gotta go!” he announced cheerfully. “I’m helping Sarah’s dad clean the cellar.” He thundered upstairs, thumped around in his room for a minute and clattered back down.
“Bye, Aunt Mil,” he said, kissing my cheek. He one-arm hugged Sam and then banged out the back door. A second later, we heard the car start, and he was gone.
“Noisy little fella,” I said, smiling at Sam. He smiled back, and we shared a moment of silent Danny adoration.