Sam

My folks didn’t exactly question the story I recited, but their faces were painted with curiosity, to say the least. Either way, they didn’t ask questions and we spent the next hour or so talking about my plans after college and if I have any places I’ve thought of relocating to after graduation. Or, if possibly, maybe, there was any chance they could convince me to come back home and find a job locally. Because, you know there’s a huge demand for a business degree selling tickets at the Skywheel, or Ripley’s Believe It or Not.

Dad looks at his watch, realizing the time, and everyone seems happy to put a pin in that topic, for now. It’s got to be the millionteenth time it’s come up and it never ends well.

“It’s ten after nine. We should get a move on to the pier if we don’t want to be watching the show while we walk,” he says, impatiently.

I really wish Ian hadn’t left. What if I can’t find him? I don’t give a shit about Fourth of July fireworks if he’s not with me to share them.

Pensively, I help Mom bring things inside and put them away while Dad stands by, tapping his watch, obviously irritated by the further delay, but not nearly enough to help. Like, at all.

As we walk down the beach, Mom puts her arm through mine and pulls me close, whispering, “What has you preoccupied, love? You’re here with us, but also miles away. Are you thinking about the same thing that’s kept you from me all summer? Will you at least tell me his name?”

My face is hot with embarrassment and I’m glad for the darkness to hide the red of my cheeks. “Mom,” I exclaim.

Dad has almost left us behind before he notices and stops, impatiently waiting for us to catch up. “You darn ladies are determined to make us miss them, aren’t you?” he asks. He is a businessman and to him, time is money, even when it’s not. In this instance, I’m all too happy to pick up the pace and catch up to him because with him in earshot, Mom won’t pester me any further.

We arrive at the pier and make our way through the hustle and bustle of people to a vacant spot along the north side where Dad has determined the orientation of the pier to the beach creates the perfect viewing angle or some bullshit like that. Mom and I have known for years that sometimes it’s easier to let the man have his little victories, so we smile and nod in agreement.

While I’m up on tip toes scanning the crowd trying to spot Ian, mom’s voice goes shrill as she exclaims, “Gail! Why hello.”

What the fuck? This can’t be happening.

“How. I mean. How have you been? I. We didn’t expect to see you here tonight. And, is this your friend? Hello, my name is Lilly, nice to meet you,” Mom says in her most polite and inviting voice.

You have got to be shitting me right now. She can’t be here. What if Ian finds us? Oh my God, what if she recognizes me as the person sucking his face at the restaurant? My brain kicks into overdrive running through all the permutations of what if before deciding that it was weeks ago and that the pier is so poorly lit and she couldn’t possibly make the connection. Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to settle the butterflies now swarming in my stomach.

For the time being, I keep my back to the group and continue my search for Ian. The downside to the poor lighting of the pier is that I can’t make out faces more than ten feet in front of me, not leaving much room to intercept and redirect him before he stumbles into this clusterfuck.

Gail coldly introduces her date as Chaz, and proceeds to tell Mom how amazing he is, all while preventing the man from speaking for himself—further confirmation she is a bitch to everyone.

Just as I am ready to slip off into the crowd and expand my hunt, I’m stopped cold in my tracks by Dad’s voice calling to me, “Samantha, come and say hello to Gail and her friend, uh. Chaz, was it?”

Jesus Dad, why do you have to be clueless about everything?

I spin on my heel and prepare my best-surprised face, but maintain the distance between us. “Hello Gail, how have you been?” I manage.

She stares at me for what feels like five full minutes and I know I’m busted. I can feel it, shit is about to get real, and then she speaks, “Samantha, you’ve grown quite a bit since I saw you last.” Then she turns her attention back to my mother continuing where she left off.

Wait. That’s it?

Before I can return to my post, I hear his deep, soothing voice, “There you are.” In any other situation, it would send a chill of excitement down my spine. In this situation, however, excitement is not what I’m feeling. Ian emerges from the darkness, his face lit only by his brilliant smile. That is until his eyes make sense of the scene before him. In an instant his smile is gone, his slack shoulders tense up, his brow creases, and when he reaches me I see contempt in his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m late. Looks like everyone’s here,” he proclaims, his words rife with sarcasm.

“Uh. Ian. Glad you uh, made it,” Dad stutters, stepping over to stand beside him. “Shall we go and scout for a better spot?” he asks.

If that was an attempt to cut the tension Dad, you needed a bigger knife.

“Rick, if I know you, this is the best damn spot on the pier or you wouldn’t be here,” Ian quips, gently shrugging my father’s arm from his shoulder.

“Lilly, Samantha…” Ian begins, only to have Gail break in squawking, “Well you certainly have some nerve showing your face here. Where’s your little harlot? Oh, is she not with you this evening? Too embarrassed to bring her around the adults, or is it already past her curfew?”

Mom shoots me a puzzled look, to which I can only respond with a no clue face and shrug of my shoulders. Sorry, I can’t be more help mom; my worlds are colliding right now.

“Gail, I hardly think this is the time or place,” Mom interjects.

“No Lilly, it’s fine,” Ian replies, his voice a couple octaves lower than usual. He turns his attention to Gail. “I’m sorry I can’t introduce the two of you now. She’s someone very close to me,” he retorts.

Thank God no one else knows enough to pick up on that double entendre, but I’m not making eye contact with Mom right now just in case.

“Nice to see you again, son,” he says in Chaz’ general direction.

At this point, for reasons no one will ever understand in the history of logical thought, Chaz finds his voice. “I don’t think you wanna be talking to me like that, bro,” he says daringly.

As the drama unfolds, fireworks begin to light the sky overhead followed by “oohs” and “aahs” from the crowd around us, each pop and sputter briefly illuminating our faces.

“Careful Junior. This doesn’t concern you. If you want to keep it that way you should stop now,” Ian says, his arms crossed, as he steps forward squaring off his stance.

“God damn you, Ian. Are you going to let your jealousy cause you to behave like a child? Obviously, you haven’t moved on.” Gail chides. “What do you think you are going to do? This is not behavior consistent with a man responsible for a teenage boy. Maybe we need to revisit Will’s living arrangements?”

What planet is this woman from? I can’t fathom what life would be like for Will if he had to live with her.

“Gail, if you want to go back to court, have your fucking lawyer call mine. Otherwise, for once in your miserable life, please shut the fuck up,” Ian orders.

Not heeding the good advice shared with him a moment before, Chaz steps into the space between Ian and Gail and obstinately pushes against Ian’s chest.

Shit.