42
Sam
His interaction with Ben at the opening reception had bolstered Sam’s mood so much that the following day, he gave his employee discount to the first ten people who walked in the door. It was amazing, how much lighter he felt, as though someone had removed an anvil from his chest. He and Ben were okay—or at least, they would be. Sam wasn’t stupid enough to think that one conversation would fix everything. He knew that they still had a while to go before things would be back to normal. But it was a start. They had ripped the Band-Aid off, so the wound would be able to heal.
“What’s got you in such a chipper mood today?” Faith asked, looking over at him. “It’s two-thirty on a Sunday and we’re stuck inside.”
“I went to an opening reception last night,” Sam said.
Setting her towel down, Faith crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter. “Oh yeah? And was this opening reception for one Ben Matheny?”
Sam grinned. “Yeah, it was.”
“And?” Faith waved her hand for him to continue.
“And it went a lot better than I thought it was going to. Things were kind of awkward when I first got there, but I grabbed some wine, and then I saw Peter.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. He looked like he was about ready to drag me out of the gallery, but I was able to get away from him, and then Ben came up to me.”
He recounted the entire thing—how Ben had talked to him about the photograph, then how they’d gone to the little kitchen to talk.
“It sounds like things are starting to look up,” Faith said with a smile. “I’m glad for you, Sam. Now you’re not going to do something stupid like fuck it all up again, are you?”
Thank Christ the only people who were in the coffee shop were a couple of college students and a professional woman whose nose was hovering inches from her phone screen.
“No, I’m not going to do that. I want things to work out between us. I really like him.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t tell,” she said dryly. “It’s not like you two have been doing this thing for months. I’m just glad you’ve finally gotten somewhere, even if it did take a detour.”
That was one way of describing it. Sam would have called it a garbage fire. He had been so scared that he had ruined everything, for Ben to forgive him felt not like a second chance, but a third chance. The first chance, neither of them had taken.
“Me too,” he said, with feeling.
The thought of going day after day without seeing Ben was a depressing one. Ben had always been such a bright spot in his day, that the world seemed grey without him. He didn’t have to worry about that anymore.
He jolted as the door opened, half expecting to see Ben walk through. Instead, it was Peter. Sam couldn’t quite make out his expression, which was always a bad sign.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked, trying to keep things light.
“You showed up for his opening reception, and then you walked away from me when I had the audacity to call you out for your bad decision? That night was supposed to be about him!”
Now that he’d made up with Ben, it really was comical to see Peter go on. It was kind of nice, too, to see that there were people in Ben’s corner. People who would call Sam out on his shit, if need be.
“It would be one thing to talk to him literally any other time, but you had to barge into his space, when it was supposed to be his night, and make it about you!”
“Peter—”
“I mean, really, I get that you didn’t have that many friends growing up, so you have no real measuring stick—”
“Peter—”
“—but that doesn’t give you the right to just—”
“Peter!”
Breaking off abruptly, Peter blinked.
“I talked to him. We’re okay. I mean, we will be okay, but we’re on the same page now,” Sam said.
Peter looked from him to Faith, as though to confirm that he was telling the truth. He had a feeling he was going to have to get used to that, at least for a while.
“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Faith said. “Either that, or he lied to me, too. I guess we’ll know one way or another soon.”
“How do you figure that?” Peter asked.
“If Ben starts coming back here or not. If he does, then clearly that means Sam told the truth. If not, then we get to kill Sam.”
“Hey!” Sam protested.
Faith shook her head. “It’s only fair.”
“Yeah, okay.”
They had a point. They were as much Ben’s friends as they were his, and he had been the one to hurt Ben. Had it been the other way around, Sam was sure they would have been just as hard on Ben as they were being on him.
The door chimed again, but Sam didn’t look up. Faith could take this one. Instead, he busied himself by washing up some of the glasses that had accumulated in the sink. A few moments later, though, he realized no one was talking. His spine tingled, as though someone was looking at him. He turned to find Ben standing at the counter, an intent look on his face. Sam’s heart beat faster. Maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe he decided he really didn’t want to forgive him after all? Why was no one saying anything?