Chapter Twenty-two
“Thank you so much for driving,” Lucy said from the passenger seat of Sam’s immaculate SUV. “You’re too good to me.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“You may feel differently after a weekend with the Weston family.”
“Well, at least I have a getaway car, if necessary.” Sam tossed a wink across the console. “In case all you girls get to be too much for me.”
“You joke now, but after an hour with my sisters, your ears will be bleeding.”
“Never.” Sam switched lanes, taking advantage of some movement in the dense traffic. “Emily will be there, right?” She settled her hand over the top of the smooth steering wheel. “She’ll look out for me.”
“She does love you.”
“And can you really blame her?” Sam teased.
She grinned when she caught Lucy sticking out her tongue. “You’re so cocky,” Lucy said. “I don’t know what I see in you.”
“You love me.”
“I do.” Lucy checked a text that had just come through. “Speak of the devil,” she said, her eyes still locked on the screen. “It’s Emily. She’s headed to the LIRR now.” Lucy shook her head. “By herself. With two fucking kids.”
“Why is she taking the train? We would have picked her up.”
Lucy jutted her chin out. “She’s taking the Long Island Rail Road because her fucking wife was supposed to be with her, but now Frankie’s stuck at work so she’s not coming until tomorrow.”
“Things still aren’t good there, I take it.”
“Frankie’s an ass.”
“Did Emily ever determine if she was cheating? I know that was a concern a while back.”
Lucy looked out her window at the ocean that bordered the highway. “I don’t know. She only ever mentioned it that one time. But I know she worries about it. I can tell.” She gave her phone a quick glance. “Whether her concern is warranted or not doesn’t change the fact that she deserves better than what she is settling for.”
“Agreed.” Sam rubbed Lucy’s forearm. “Why doesn’t she leave?”
Lucy shrugged, reaching for Sam’s hand. “I don’t know. They’ve been together forever. But Em’s not happy. I wonder, sometimes, if she isn’t just scared.” Her voice got lower as though she was considering the possibility for the first time. “You know, two kids and everything.”
“But Frankie barely helps her, you said.”
“Emily depends on her financially.”
“She has a job, though.” Sam looked over as the traffic stilled. “How old are the kids?”
“Hannah’s six, Liam is four. They’re sweet.”
“She works at a day care, right?”
“She runs it actually. She has a degree in early childhood education.”
“Babe, tell her to ditch Frankie and move to Bay West. Christ, she could probably open a day care center there. Or at least somewhere nearby. And you could give her shifts at your place if she needed. Plus, I’m sure she would get child support from her wife. What is it that Frankie does?”
“She’s an ad executive for some big company. I forget the name.”
“See.” Sam rubbed her fingers together. “Money.”
“But where would she live?” Lucy looked unconvinced. “Even if she was down with this plan we’re so graciously working out for her without her consent or knowledge”—she chuckled at their harmless meddling—“it’s not like there’s an abundance of open apartments at Bay West.”
“You bring up an excellent point.” Sam tried to hide her grin as she spoke. “What about Seventy-Two Vista? Top floor?”
“Jerk.” Lucy whacked her playfully. “That’s my apartment. I love Emily, but that place is not big enough for four of us.”
“You could stay with me.”
“At chez Miller, up on posh Todt Hill?” She raised her eyebrows. “The digs look sweet from the outside, but I have it on good authority that Mom and Pop Miller are not super cool with their daughter bringing the ladies home.”
“Mmm. Good point.” Sam scratched her chin. “I guess we could stay at the new three-bedroom I just bought at the end of Crescent Street.”
“What? Crescent Street, as in Bay West? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to see if they would take my offer first.” She smiled big. “Which they just did this morning. We’re already in contract.”
“That’s fantastic. What number?”
“Twelve.” Sam put on her turn signal to switch lanes again. “It’s not the place I was originally looking at. It’s way farther down where the street kind of bends. Almost in the back of the development. Near the softball field.”
“That’s even better. Kind of private. Secluded.” Lucy shook her head, but a smile came through. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.” She leaned over and kissed Sam’s cheek. “Congratulations, babe.”
“So you stay with me. Emily and her kids crash at your place until something opens up for them at the development. They would need something bigger than a one-bedroom anyway. But it could do in a pinch.” She muscled her way into the left lane even though it was barely moving. “Maybe, with real options, she’d consider it.”
“Emily would totally love Bay West.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“True, but she would be so into all of their activities. She is a true joiner.” Lucy tapped her own chest. “We are complete opposites in that regard.”
“Why don’t you mention it to her if you think she’s really not happy.” Sam reached for Lucy’s hand. “Bonus, you can help me design my new kitchen, since it needs to be completely gutted.”
“Well, that sounds fun.” She squeezed Sam’s hand, getting serious for a moment. “Sam, you’re sweet to think of my sister.”
“I love you.” She shrugged. “And I want to help Emily out. This would be a win for me too. I’d get to spend all my nights with you.”
“I still can’t believe you held out on me.” She shook her head but clearly wasn’t upset.
Sam made sure anyway. “I wanted to make sure I got it first. You’re not mad, right?”
“Not even a little. I’m excited.” Her hand drifted up between Sam’s legs. “I may make you pay for withholding the info though.”
“Is that right?” Sam looked pointedly at Lucy’s futile stretch across the wide center console as she tried, and failed, to reach Sam’s crotch. “Looks like an empty promise.”
“There’s always later,” Lucy said.
“At your parents’ house?” Sam opened her eyes wide. “Yeah, I think I’m all set,” she said with a slight laugh.
“Aw, what happened to my girlfriend’s signature swagger?” Lucy teased.
“It fizzled at the thought of having sex next door to your mom and dad.”
“First off, my room is down the hall. Secondly, you will change your mind. Third, it’s going to be fantastic.” She reached for Sam’s hand again. “So quit being a wuss.”
They spent the remainder of the ride bumper-to-bumper, talking about Sam’s new house and her plans for it. Lucy gave a brief rundown of the relatives who would be in attendance at tomorrow’s celebration and the family that would be at her parents’ tonight—just her sisters and their families, keeping it informal and intimate.
Ninety minutes later, they pulled into Lucy’s parents’ driveway at the same time as a massive pizza delivery.
The Weston family gave Sam a warm welcome complete with hugs all around. Lucy’s dad thrust a beer in her hand and gave her a clap on the shoulder as he talked about Staten Island’s role in the Revolutionary War. He was a sweetheart and had clearly done his research on the small borough. He obviously cared about his girls and wanted to connect with their partners—she could tell by the way he made her feel as welcome as Beth’s and Kate’s husbands who had been in the picture long before she had. In fact, both of those guys—John and Luke, she thought their names were—were super friendly as well. Lucy’s mom, and of course Emily, doted on her all evening, making her feel like she was already part of the family. It was a great night, but Lucy didn’t lie. It was loud. Beth’s three children and Emily’s two accounted for some of the racket, but the Weston core themselves were a force to be reckoned with. They were boisterous, funny, and competitive as they one-upped each other with outrageous and embarrassing stories from the past.
Well after the children were put to sleep, Lucy’s parents called it a night and were followed shortly by Beth’s and Kate’s spouses. Sam took the cue to give the four sisters bonding time and she happily trekked up to Lucy’s room at the end of the upstairs hall listening to the girls cackle away.
It was a good while later when Lucy finally came to bed, her energy still high from a night filled with laughter.
“It was a good night?” Sam asked as she sat up.
Lucy pulled her shirt over her head. “I love my sisters,” she said, still beaming. “And you…you were so charming.” She slid her pants off and folded them on the dresser. “Beth and Kate can’t say enough about you. And I think my dad about fell in love with you himself.”
“He’s nice. Steve,” she said with a wink. “We’re buds.” She added a grin as she watched Lucy take off her bra, step out of her panties, and pull back the covers. “What are you doing?”
“Getting into bed.”
“Um, naked?”
“Um, yeah,” she echoed, teasing with her tone. “Like always.”
“Your parents are three doors away.” She turned her cheek when Lucy attempted a kiss. “And one of your sisters is right next door.”
“It’s Emily,” she said, undeterred. “And who cares?”
“I do.”
“Sam, relax.” Lucy guided her face back and kissed her gently, slipping her hand underneath the waistband of her boxers. She smiled when she heard Sam’s breath catch even as Sam reached down to stop her. “Babe, it’s okay. I’m just touching.”
Sam knew exactly where this was going, but her resistance melted away when she felt Lucy’s hand move lower. Without thinking she let out a groan that was both frustration and desire.
“Shh.” Lucy whispered in her ear. “It’s okay,” she repeated, kissing along the sides of Sam’s face and down her neck before she turned around slowly. She swung her leg over Sam’s body and kissed the area below her belly button as she pushed her boxers down.
Sam couldn’t help but reach for Lucy’s beautiful body inches from her face. She spread her legs open for Lucy at the exact same time she brought Lucy down to her mouth. She loved sex like this, maybe because it reminded her of their first time, maybe just because it was hot. Either way, she knew Lucy knew it.
The feel of their bodies touching everywhere, moving in time, plus the fact that it typically resulted in simultaneous orgasm—everything about it was perfect. Being together like this had come to symbolize precisely how Sam felt about their relationship: together, equal, connected, loved beyond measure. In this single moment, she was as happy as she ever remembered being and she gave all credit to her amazing girlfriend. And why shouldn’t she? Just hours ago in the car, Lucy had predicted this very moment and it really was about to be fantastic.
*****
The party got rolling around two o’clock. Sam and Lucy had enjoyed a lovely walk early in the day in a nearby park. It wasn’t quite hiking, but Sam relished the solitude with Lucy and managed to steal several kisses before they returned to the house, and when the extended family began arriving Lucy never left her side. She made sure Sam met all her aunts and uncles, keeping the introductions sweet as she rubbed Sam’s back and gently scratched her neck. When Sam slipped upstairs to charge up her phone, Lucy found her in the bedroom.
Lucy wrapped her arms around Sam’s waist and kissed her between the shoulders. “You doing okay?”
“Of course. Your family is awesome.”
“They love you.”
“I love you.” Sam turned around and dropped a kiss on Lucy’s forehead.
Lucy kissed her lips before pulling back. “Fucking Frankie isn’t here yet,” she said with a scowl. “I may punch her in the throat when she finally shows.” She pointed one finger at Sam’s chest. “Do not try to stop me,” she said in playful warning.
“Like I can stop you when you set your mind to something.” It was completely true and they both knew it. Lucy’s face was full of acknowledgment and love as she linked her hands with Sam’s. “Come on. Back to the party. I don’t trust myself with you in here.”
A half hour later, when Lucy was tied up with her Aunt Suzie’s millionth question about the coffee shop, Sam slipped away to grab a beer off the back porch. She was already entering the room when she saw Emily in a heated discussion with a woman whose back was to the door. Judging from the level of emotion on display it had to be Frankie. Sam lifted the lid on the cooler and reached her hand in, content with anything just to get out of the way. She tried to be silent, hoping to slip out unnoticed, but it was too late. As she made eye contact with Emily, she gave her a look that she hoped conveyed both apology for interrupting and the sentiment that it wasn’t necessary to acknowledge her presence.
No dice. Emily gave her a small wave as she wiped away her tears. “You’re fine, Sam,” she said in response. “We were just finishing up here.” Emily took a step toward her and the woman turned at the same time. “Sam, this is Frankie. My wife.”
“Blynn.” The name fell out of Sam’s mouth as if she was in a daze. No time passed before her heart sank into her stomach as the realization of what was going on registered.
“Sam, what are you doing here?” Frankie asked through a snide snicker.
Emily jumped in to answer. “Sam is Lucy’s girlfriend. I told you about her.”
“You didn’t tell me it was Sam Miller.” Her smirk was completely self-indulgent. Sam recognized the look of smug satisfaction her colleague slash ex-fling typically reserved for the boardroom. What an egomaniacal bitch.
Emily’s voice revealed her confusion. “I didn’t know her last name. Sorry, Sam,” she said, offering a weird apology. “I’m shocked you were even listening to me,” she said, tossing out a barb of her own. She leaned back and crossed her arms looking between them. “Do you know each other?”
“Sam and I work together.”
“For real?” She looked to Sam for an explanation. “How did we not put that together?”
Her mouth hung open a little as Sam shook her head from side to side. “I don’t know. But Blynn, sorry, Frankie,” she corrected, knowing her expression still held shock, “and I do work together from time to time.”
“Sam’s being modest. I routinely insist that she is my lead graphic designer. She’s the best. And so am I. We have phenomenal chemistry. Am I right, Sam?” Her eyes were loaded with innuendo and Sam hated her for it.
“But Blynn?” she said, still hung up on her name. It was a ridiculous detail, yet she couldn’t get past it.
“Frances is so formal. I was Frankie through high school but it’s quite juvenile.” She took her time before she met Sam’s eyes. “Also, it’s a touch masculine for me.” Her smile was coy and vain. “I’ve gone by my middle name since I began in the advertising world.”
F. Blynn Hughes. Mother. Fucker. Sam started to sweat.
“There you are.” Lucy’s voice at the doorway cut the tension, but also added to it. “I was getting worried. Hon, would you grab me a seltzer.” She stepped out onto the porch and touched Sam’s back as she sidled next to her. “Frankie, so nice of you to grace us with your presence today.”
“Get this, Luce.” Emily’s voice still held bewilderment. “Sam works with Frankie.”
“What?”
“They work together. Sam calls her Blynn and everything.” Emily clucked her tongue as she rolled her eyes, clearly taking a jab at her wife’s pretentiousness.
Question and concern covered Lucy’s face as she turned to Sam. “You know Frankie?”
“No. Yes,” she said, changing her answer on the spot. “I didn’t know…I mean, I only know her as Blynn…not Frankie.” She didn’t mean for it to come out as an excuse or an explanation. In fact, she didn’t want to own up to anything, not at this particular moment in time. But Lucy must have seen the confession in her eyes, because Sam read her recognition right on the spot.
“No.” Lucy’s protest came out as a kind of plea. “Sam,” she said desperately, but it was a whisper barely heard by the others. “No.” Quieter still this time, as she shook her head slowly, clearly using all her resolve to hold it together. “We should all get inside,” she said through a terse smile. “Em, we have the toast and tribute to Mom and Dad in a few minutes.” She turned quickly and bolted into the house. Sam raced to follow her, but just through the french doors Lucy’s dad caught her arm to introduce her to his brother. At the risk of being rude, Sam stayed for the mandatory hellos, escaping as quickly as she could, but it wasn’t in time. Lucy was already at the front of the room, surrounded by her sisters, while Beth clinked a spoon against a champagne flute to solicit the room’s attention.
The next thirty minutes passed in a blur. Sam watched the photo montage and listened to the girls’ choreographed speeches, registering breaks of laughter as they pierced through her haze, but it was as though she was hardly present. She was still on the porch trying to make sense of what happened back there. Blynn was Frankie. But how?
When the homage ended, Sam tried to get Lucy’s attention but she was flanked by family. Sam backed away and slipped up the stairs into Lucy’s room.
She grabbed her phone and texted Lucy her location, spending the next fifteen minutes pacing and chewing at her short fingernails until the door opened.
“Lucy, I—”
“I’m not talking about this, Sam.” She was trying to cover it but her voice held both anger and pain. “Not here.” She leaned against the back of the bedroom door and covered her face with both hands. Despite her proclamation she asked, “How did this fucking happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“She’s my sister’s wife, Sam.” Lucy spoke through her palms but Sam could hear rage and betrayal as her voice cracked. “My sister,” she repeated. “I can’t.” She slid her hands up pulling at the front of her hair and Sam saw tears in her eyes. “No.” She clenched her jaw fighting back her emotions. “We are not doing this now.”
Sam couldn’t take seeing her pain. She crossed the room and reached for Lucy, folding her in her arms as she kissed the top of her head. Lucy went willingly, crying in earnest against Sam’s chest.
“It’s okay,” Sam whispered against her hair. “It’ll be okay.”
“It won’t.” Lucy’s voice was tempered, even as it came out muffled against Sam’s sweater. She pushed out of Sam’s embrace and let her body weight rest on the door behind her as she rubbed at her wet eyes with the edges of her shirt. “I have to look like I’m not a fucking mess.” Her voice was still full of fury and sadness. “I want to go home.” Her eyes filled up again. “Can we just…go?”
Sam wanted to protest, to tell Lucy that she was making too much of it. Whatever ridiculous arrangement she’d had with Blynn had ended the second she thought she had a shot with Lucy. But even in her own head, it sounded pathetic. She nodded in response. At least the car ride back to Staten Island would give them time alone, a solid hour to flesh it out. But the traffic was unusually light and they flew along the Belt Parkway, making it to Bay West in just under forty minutes. The entire journey Lucy stared out the passenger window, never uttering a word. When Sam heard a sniffle as they zipped past JFK, she tried to touch Lucy’s shoulder, but Lucy moved away. Finally pulling into Bay West, Sam parked in front of Lucy’s unit and cut the engine.
“You can’t come in,” Lucy said through heavy tears.
“Luce, we need to talk about this.”
“No.” She looked straight ahead. “I need to think.”
“We weren’t together, Lucy. You have to believe that.”
“That’s not the point.” She looked off into the distance, letting out a measured breath as she clearly tried to keep her composure. “She’s married to Emily, Sam.” Her eyes seemed steeled on tiny droplets of rain beginning to land on the windshield as she continued. “Emily, who thought she was cheating. Which she was.” Her face fell as she spoke the truth. “With you.”
Sam shook her head in silent protest but it was pointless. Lucy pulled the door handle.
“Lucy, wait,” Sam implored, almost reaching her but it was too late. Lucy slipped out of the car, letting the door close with a sad click as she walked away.
*****
For the next few days, Sam busied herself with work. She did everything from home, of course, having no idea how she was going to handle Blynn when she saw her. Mostly she didn’t care, but she hated that her colleague had obviously enjoyed a kind of rush over the situation the other night. Fuck her, she thought, closing her project immediately. She could be a crappy wife to Emily all she wanted, but Sam wasn’t about to let her screw up her chances with Lucy. She fired off a quick email to one of the headhunters who was always trying to poach her for other firms. Shutting her laptop with a click, she stood up and got moving.
She set the shower water temperature to a toasty 110 degrees on the digital display and stepped in, letting the hot water wash over her body. She ached from lack of sleep over the last seventy-two hours and the steady hot pressure rejuvenated her. Although she didn’t really have a plan, she knew she needed to see Lucy. It had been three full days of zero contact. She’d acquiesced and given her space and time to think. Forget waiting any longer. It was time Lucy heard her out.
Warm light poured out of Lucy’s Coffee Bar as she pulled into the dark lot. Sam couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d come here so many months ago, the night eerily similar to this one. Back then she’d had hopes of finding a simple dessert. She smiled now, thinking about how far they had come. First coffee, then the lunch dates disguised as friendship. The whole time she was slowly, sweetly, slipping into love. It happened so seamlessly Sam couldn’t identify the precise moment she’d known. Suddenly her life was divided into the time before Lucy and now.
The bell above the door jangled and Lucy looked up from her chore at the counter, doing a double take at the sight of Sam walking to the bar.
“Hi,” Sam said, noticing the heaviness in Lucy’s eyes right away. “I was hoping we could talk.”
Lucy put her hands on her hips as though she was bracing for something, but when she spoke, her voice cracked and Sam heard nothing but sadness. “Not here, Sam. I’m at work.”
“A few minutes. Please?” She didn’t even care that she was begging. “Lucy, come on?” Her voice wavered and it was perhaps her obvious emotion that made the difference. Whatever the case, Lucy gave in. She turned for the kitchen signaling with her eyes that Sam should follow.
“Raven, give us a minute, would you?” Lucy’s voice was as serious as ever and Raven asked no questions as she breezed past Sam with an uneasy smile.
Sam touched the countertop with one finger, her other hand stuffed in her pocket as she contemplated what to say. Despite her plea for a moment with Lucy, she hadn’t given the content of their conversation much thought. On the spot, she decided to go right from the gut.
“I miss you.”
Lucy blinked slowly, seeming pained by Sam’s small sentiment.
“I know this situation is…” She paused. “Not ideal. I don’t know what to say about it, really.”
“Not ideal is a bit of an understatement, I’d say.” Lucy’s voice had some zing to it—a combination of anger and resentment.
“Okay,” Sam said. “Like I said, I don’t know what to say.” She shrugged. “I don’t think it’s worth throwing in the towel over.” She looked up and hoped her eyes conveyed the level of emotion she felt. “I love you, Luce. I never felt this way about anyone. Ever. Tell me what to do to make it better. Please?”
Lucy braced herself against the countertop and tipped her head all the way back before meeting Sam’s eyes. She was clenching her jaw over and over. “I don’t know if there’s anything you can do.”
“But Lucy, we weren’t even together, you and me. When all that happened. Honestly.”
“I know, Sam. I believe you.”
“I had no idea she was married, Luce. For whatever that’s worth. Maybe that’s stupid or I was believing what I wanted, or just not thinking about it at all. But trust me when I tell you I didn’t know.”
“I believe you, Sam. I do.” She clenched her jaw and fought back the tears. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“I know,” she said, even though she didn’t quite know why.
“I just can’t stop picturing you with her. With Frankie.”
“Don’t.” Sam looked right at her. “There was never anything between us. Honestly. It was purely…” Her voice faded, knowing the admission did nothing for her cause.
“Physical,” Lucy finished for her. “I know. That doesn’t help, actually.”
“I just meant that I never had any feelings for her.”
“I hate that you were with her like that. I hate it.” She wiped a tear before it fell, her voice getting more agitated by the second. “I hate that I can’t stop thinking about it. I hate that obnoxious, selfish Frankie got to experience you the way I do. When you are vulnerable and shy and sweet.” She balled her fists but released them right away, rubbing her palms on her worn-out jeans. “I hate that anyone else besides me ever got to see that side of you. I know that makes me sound jealous and greedy in my own right, but I want to be the only person who does that to you.”
“But you are.”
Lucy shook her head. “I’m not. And I hate it.” She breathed out audibly. “More than anything, I hate that I have to tell Emily about it,” she said.
It was the answer to a question she’d been too uncomfortable to ask, but the knowledge still shook her to her center.
“Don’t look at me like that, Sam. I have to tell her. You know I do.”
Sam nodded and then shook her head, the conflicting emotions she felt on display.
“Just don’t let it define us.” The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to filter them. Lucy was about to talk but Sam stopped her. “Babe, I get it. I don’t like it but I get it. I know she is your sister and you are close, and Emily deserves to know that Blynn, ugh, Frankie,” she self-corrected, “is not being straight with her.” She took a step forward and put one hand delicately on Lucy’s waist. “I’m sorry for my part in all of it. I’m embarrassed by it,” she admitted. “But even still, I’m not willing to lose you over this.” She put her other hand on Lucy’s side. “I love you, Lucy. More than I ever loved anyone in my whole life.” She looked up at the stained ceiling before meeting Lucy’s eyes. “I know you love me.” She kissed Lucy’s forehead. “That has to count for something.”
Lucy leaned forward, pressing her head into Sam’s chest, her hands drifting along the lean muscles of Sam’s upper body. Her body language said it all. She wanted to be held, she needed it. Only a few days had passed but she clearly missed Sam’s touch. Lucy tilted her head up and Sam kissed her softly, the small moment taking over, making it seem as though everything might be okay.
“I can’t, Sam.” Lucy’s voice was so low Sam wasn’t sure she heard her correctly.
“What?”
“I’m not saying it’s over.” She paused. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Then don’t say anything.” She ran her hands the length of Lucy’s arms hoping for a positive response.
“I just need some time. To process. To talk to Emily. To get these awful images out of my head.” She worried her lower lip. “Give me a few days. A week. Maybe more. I don’t know,” she muttered with a shake of her head.
“Take whatever time you need, Lucy. I’m not going anywhere.” In a bit of irony lost on neither of them, Sam stepped backward toward the rear door. “I mean, technically, I’m going home, but”—she channeled her best charm and hoped she looked irresistible—“you know what I mean.”
Lucy answered with a smile that was sad but sweet, and Sam was sure she saw love in it. She could only hope it would be enough.