Author’s Note:
This is a rough draft. It has not been edited properly. I also tried using a dictation tool for some parts of this chapter, so that might lead to some weird formatting stuff I didn’t catch. Nothing is set in stone yet, and things may change as the draft develops. Thank you to anyone who reads and leaves feedback.
Read the rest, here:
Day Four:
Pancake breakfast with Carey, Sam, and Luana is like watching a strange improv troupe perform a misguided show. It’s all yes and, but no attempts at being entertaining. It’s certainly not funny.
Carey seems attached to the bit that nothing is wrong. He’s not hurt. Everything is great. As long as he makes everyone breakfast and keeps a sunny disposition, they’re all bound to have a fantastic day. It’s bullshit. Augusta knows it’s bullshit and so does everyone else. Despite that, no one seems to want to question it. They all play along. Even Sam, who seems to go about the morning as if in a fever dream. He’s dazed and quiet and seemingly surprised by every breath where Carey doesn’t show anger towards him.
Augusta fears she might appear the same way. Though, if she does, who cares? This is all so strange and fucked up. Who cares if she’s not reacting by the book? No one sent her her script.
Things get weirder after breakfast. Augusta would think that, on a day where they’re all busy pretending that no one is mad at anyone related to unresolved and unaddressed feelings one party may have, the thing to do would be to avoid extended time together. Call it a quiet day. Everyone can grab a book or develop a sudden interest in meditation and spend time in separate corners. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? After so many days in close quarters, it may even be necessary. Especially for the introverts among them; A.K.A Augusta.
This is not what Carey does.
“What are you guys in the mood for today?” He asks as Sam and Luana do the breakfast dishes. “Games? Swimming? We could go out on the boat again.”
He wants another group activity. Why does he want another group activity?
Sam looks at Augusta. Carey is still looking at Sam. Augusta just shrugs. She has no clue why he’s acting like this. Doesn’t Sam know him better?
“I am not getting back on the boat,” Luana says. “No way.”
“What about a smaller boat? We have kayaks,” Carey says. “And two paddle boards.”
Of course they do.
Luana glances at Sam and Augusta, to see if they’ll weigh in. Augusta is speechless, frankly. She has no idea what to say. Sam doesn’t seem keen on speaking either.
“Uh, well, paddleboarding sounds fun,” Luana says eventually. Her answer sounds driven less by enthusiasm than by a desire to provide Carey with a much-desired response.
“Great!” Carey chirps. “That’s what we’ll do! I’ll go and change into my swim shorts.”
He turns and walks out of the kitchen, legs taking long strides towards the stairs like he’s on a mission.
“Great,” Sam exhales as Carey goes.
Yeah. Great.
Two Years Ago:
When Sam meets Carey at their favorite local brew-pub for dinner, his phone feels heavier in his pocket than it did this morning. It isn’t. Not really. In a literal sense, it holds the exact same mass as before. The only difference is a tiny bit more stored data; a phone number. Luana’s. The aunt of his patient. The pretty architect with the very enthusiastic family.
On paper, there is no reason in the world why Sam shouldn’t call Luana. He hasn’t really dated anyone since his divorce, and it’s about time he got himself back out there, as his parents and sister and extended family would say. As far as options for getting back out there go, Luana seems like a good one. She’s got a good job, a good family. She’s polite and pleasant. She’s objectively beautiful.
He’s been accused of being picky in the past. He’s not picky. He’s not assessing and judging women. He doesn’t think he’s too good for anyone or that anyone is beneath him. Though, sometimes, his lack of interest gives people that impression. He’s aware of that, and trying to be better at being aware of that in the moment it’s happening. The truth isn’t that he’s picky, though; it’s that he’s never eager.
He never feels that excitement that Carey feels all the time for new people. That bubbly sense of possibility. He doesn’t dislike people. He just doesn’t become intrigued by them easily. Or quickly. It takes time for him.
So does Sam know if he wants to call Luana? To ask her out, like her family strongly hinted he should? He has no idea. How is he supposed to know? She could be amazing. She could be horrible. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t feel anything. She seems great. That’s all he can say.
When Sam walks into the pub, Carey already has a table. He lights up when he sees Sam, eyes twinkling in a way that makes Sam feel like he can properly breathe for the first time in days.
“Hey!” Carey calls out as Sam walks over to the table, sitting across from him at the table. Carey already has a beer in his hand, and there’s a full glass waiting for Sam. “How was work?”
“Alright,” Sam shrugs. “You’ve been here a while?”
“Nah,” Carey assures him. “Service was just fast. I know your order.”
He does. If you dropped either of them in a restaurant they’ve never been to before, Sam is fairly certain they could find the item on the menu – drink or food – that the other man is most likely to order.
“Well, thanks,” Sam says. “What’s new with you?”
Carey exhales, expression shifting at that question. So something then. Sam can tell. Something is new, but he looks like he’s not excited to discuss it.
“Nothing exciting,” Carey says.
Sam raises an eyebrow. That felt like a lie.
“No?” Sam asks.
“No,” Carey reasserts. “But, hey uh, what about you? What happened with that patient’s family?”
Sam’s stomach twists. He forgot he’d told Carey about that. They’d been texting during one of Sam’s breaks, and he mentioned being harassed by an old woman to date her daughter. Now that he’s actually met Luana and taken her number, he doesn’t want to fess up.
“Oh, uh…” Sam stalls, thinking of the most casual way to explain this. “Yeah, the daughter showed up. I think they lied to her. Told her it was an emergency.”
Carey’s eyes bug. “Shit. That’s wild.”
“Yeah,” Sam nods.
“I’m sure she wasn’t thrilled?” Carey guesses.
“No,” Sam says. “Not thrilled.”
“And I’m guessing no numbers were exchanged?”
“Uh…” Sam replies.
“Wait,” Carey frowns. “Seriously? It worked?”
Sam’s cheeks heat. “Crazy, overinvolved family aside, she’s pretty cool. So, yeah… I took her number. Her name is Luana. She’s an architect. She has a dog.”
Sam says this last part like it means something. It does not. In the longstanding war of cat versus dog, Sam is agnostic. Regarding pets in general, he’s ambivalent. He likes animals, but he works such long shifts it never feels fair to consider getting one. He has a cactus he’s quite fond of.
Carey nods. It’s a long, slow nod. A substitute for speaking.
“What?” Sam asks, exhaling. “Say what you need to say, Care.”
“No, no,” Carey shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Sam groans. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“The disapproving but not wanting to say it thing,” Sam says. “I’m not… This isn’t the same as it was, okay? You can say what you think.”
Carey huffs out a big breath. “Okay, I… I mean, I think you’re pressured into doing things easily. I know you don’t care that she’s an architect or that she has a dog. Do you actually like her? Or did the family guilt you into it?”
Yeah, Sam can’t exactly blame him for asking that. The only dates he’s been on since Blair were arranged by his family. His over-involved, worried, and judgey family. And not a single one of them was anything short of painfully awkward.
“I like her,” Sam says. “She seems nice. She’s beautiful.”
He sounds like he’s reciting points from an encyclopedia page. He knows it. Carey can hear it.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Carey says. “If you don’t want to.”
It sounds more and more like Carey doesn’t want him to.
Sam watches Carey’s face, like he’s looking through a microscope, trying to find answers to some great scientific conundrum. Why? Why has Carey always cared so much? Why does he always insert himself in it, time after time? And why is his solution always Sam giving up the woman who is interested in him? He was right about Blair, but he can’t always be right, can he? Sam isn’t so destined to be alone that nothing will work. That everything and everyone is a bad choice. It’s not like Carey’s track record is smooth sailing.
“I have to try, don’t I?” Sam asks eventually.
“Try?” Carey asks.
“To not be the sort of person who ends up alone,” Sam says.
He’s not sure why he says it. He hasn’t even really started his beer. He can’t blame that for the sudden burst of vulnerability. He regrets it the moment it leaves his mouth.
Carey shakes his head. “That will never happen. Sam, that’s never going to happen, okay?”
Sam tenses. This is suddenly too serious to be talking about at a pub over pints of beer.
He shrugs slightly. “You never know, at the rate I’m going.”
“I do know,” Carey argues. He reaches across the table and grabs Sam’s hand so quickly that Sam doesn’t even have a moment to process it. “You have me. Okay? There’s more than one way to not be alone.”
Sam is staring at their clasped hands. He feels a strange buzz of electricity running up and down his arm. He wants to believe what Carey is saying. And honestly? There’s a part of him that knows he’d be entirely happy with the two of them, prioritizing each other and their friendship until they were old and gray. It’s always been the best part of Sam’s life. It would be easier to just accept that, and enjoy it for what it is. He’d be happier, he thinks. But that’s not how life works.
“What are we gonna do?” Sam asks sadly. He retracts his hand, unnerved by the sensation of having it held, and enjoying having it held. “Room together? Be the Odd Couple or whatever that show was?”
“Hell yeah,” Carey nods. “Bert and Ernie.”
“I think they’re gay, Carey,” Sam says. “That’s not who I meant.”
“Are they?” Carey’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Well, I didn’t know that was, like, canonical.”
“Maybe it’s not?” Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. But everyone knows it, right?”
“Huh,” Carey shrugs. “Okay, whatever. We won’t be muppets.”
“Seasame Street,” Sam corrects.
“Whatever!” Carey laughs. “The point is, yes. Whatever. You’ll never be alone. You’re… You’re my favourite person in the world, Sam.”
And Sam’s not sure why Carey saying that has the effect of taking his breath away. It shouldn’t be that big of a statement. He feels the same way. He even figured Carey felt that way. But hearing it? Sam doesn’t know why his heart is stuttering a little. He doesn’t know why his throat feels thick. He doesn’t know why his eyes are stinging.
“What about Raquel?” Sam asks.
A stupid question. Carey and Raquel have only been dating for five months. There’s no way he’d say she’s his favourite person.
“Oh,” Carey frowns. “Uh, we broke up.”
This is news to Sam.
“What?” He demands. “When?”
“Sunday,” Carey says.
Sunday. Sunday? It’s Thursday!
“Carey, that was days ago!” Sam exclaims. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Carey shrugs sheepishly. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a big thing. It’s not like it was a long relationship.”
Sam guesses that’s true. He’s sort of relieved, to be honest. He never liked Raquel. He’s not sure why. He doesn’t have a clear reason. He just had a feeling about her. A less than stellar one.
“What happened?” Sam asks. “She couldn’t forgive you for the poison ivy debacle?”
“Okay, that was not strictly my fault,” Carey says. “And, no. It wasn’t about that. I ended things.”
Sam’s brain struggles to process.
“I thought you really liked her,” he says.
“Yeah,” Carey shrugs. “I did. But, uh… We had a few disagreements on things that seemed small, but I think were sort of signs we might not be compatible long term.”
Sam narrows his eyes. He wonders what those were.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
Carey nods. He gives Sam a tight, unconvincing smile.
“Yeah, I’m good. It was the right choice for me.”
If that’s true, why does he look like he’s secretly sad? Maybe it was a bittersweet sort of thing. Maybe she didn’t want to get married someday or something. Maybe she didn’t want kids. He knows Carey wants kids. Kids and a partner and a life. A whole big beautiful life that he won’t get by always putting Sam first. Sam gets that. He can’t be Carey’s favourite person. Not forever.
It’s not like this is new information to him. He’d realized it in high school, when Carey’s interest in girls had sprung up like a wellspring, leaving Sam lagging behind. It was why he’d ever befriended Blair in the first place, why he’d been open to pursuing her romantically. Obviously, it turned into something else from there. But that had been the start of it.
“Besides,” Carey says with a little smirk. “More time for us to spend not being Bert and Ernie, but whatever other thing you were referencing. Right? Bros before… Well, I don’t want to call anyone a ho. But you get the sentiment.”
Sam smiles. He believes that Carey thinks he means that. For now. Sam would be happy with that forever, he thinks. Carey wouldn’t. After a while, he’d still want all the things he’s always wanted.
“Right,” Sam nods. “I get the sentiment, totally.”
And it’s not a lie. He’ll do whatever Carey wants to do. But he’s going to text Luana later.
He thinks back to the way he felt his whole nervous system light up when Carey grabbed his hand. He doesn’t totally understand that feeling, and quite frankly, it scares him a little. The idea of Carey giving up things for him or resenting him scares him a lot. So he’s going to call Luana later.
It’s just for the best.
Day Four:
Carey is a big guy, and not the sort to do yoga or anything that requires a ton of balance or grace. Nevertheless, he’s surprisingly great at paddle boarding.
There are only two paddle boards, and Luana and Carey were the ones who expressed interest, so Sam and Augusta watch from the dock as their respective partners paddle around. Carey, with unexpected deftness. Luana, with hesitant wobbliness.
Augusta isn’t sad to be left out of the action. Would she try it? Yes. On a normal day. Is she in the mood to pretend like they’re all up for classic summer fun? No. She’s absolutely not.
Sam seems to be in agreement. He keeps giving Carey looks that suggest he’s concerned he’s lost his mind. Augusta can’t help but agree. She didn’t think she’d be sitting here on his side of the issue, at any point, but here they are. Two people that love Carey, but have no idea why he’s acting the way he’s acting, and are at a loss for how to go forward.
At one point, Luana wobbles so badly she falls off the paddle board and splashes into the water. The effect of which has Sailor, who had been previously lying at Augusta’s feet, launching herself off the dock, and swimming to check on her mother.
“Sailor!” Sam calls after the dog. “That’s not helpful. Come back!”
Augusta smirks. “Does she understand that’s not helpful?”
Sam shrugs, smiling slightly. The trace of a sense of humor is visible in the line of his mouth.
“I have no clue,” he admits quietly. “I don’t know anything about dogs.”
“Go back!” Luana tells the dog after she resurfaces, treading water and throwing an arm over the paddle board.
“Sailor, come!” Sam tries again.
The dog turns around in the water and starts paddling back towards shore.
“Do you want a turn, Sam?” Carey calls from the paddleboard. “I can get off.”
Sam shakes his head. “That’s alright. Keep… Keep having fun.”
“I don’t even know how to get back on this far from shore,” Luana tells Carey.
Instead of instructing her, Carey leaps off his own board, into the water, and proceeds to offer a demonstration.
“What if I don’t have a lot of upper body strength?” Luana asks as Carey pulls himself up onto the board with ease.
“Dig deep,” Carey suggests.
Augusta watches as Luana pulls herself by her thin arms up onto the board, struggling a little as her legs kick behind her in the water. For a moment, in her bathing suit top, her cleavage is pushed up higher on her chest. Augusta’s cheeks heat. She should look away. She finds that she can’t. She has a flash of Luana’s body, all those years ago on Halloween; her thighs, her hands, her lips, her breasts.
“Woo!” Carey cheers as Luana stands up carefully. “You did it!”
Luana does a little victorious pump of her arm. Her whole body, in a dark green strappy bikini, seems to shimmer like a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit ad.
Augusta’s inappropriate thoughts are cut off by Sailor running up to her and Sam and shaking her wet fur all over their dry bodies.
Augusta hisses, suddenly cold.
“Oh, god,” Sam grumbles.
Augusta turns to look at Sam, mouth forming a quip about the dog. But then she catches who he has been looking at. Carey, of course; dripping wet and shirtless, and laughing in the sun. Not even the wet dog could break Sam’s stare.
Wow.
Sam can’t even try to hide it when she’s sitting right there? Does he think she doesn’t notice? Is he even aware?
Augusta does something a bit bold for her. A bit more than she’d normally do. It feels like a statement on how fed up she’s becoming with all this.
She clears her throat.
Sam startles a little, turning his head to look at her. His cheeks go bright red. Augusta sees real fear in his eyes. He is the very appearance of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“It’s okay,” Augusta says quietly. Mostly because she was just ogling his girlfriend. She can’t be hypocritical about this. “I get it. He’s beautiful.”
Sam’s shoulders slump. Realization dawns on his face.
He knows she knows.
His blush turns to pallor. His mouth sinks into a sort of grimace.
“It’s fine,” she says, no more than a whisper. Carey and Luana would never hear.
“I would never out someone. Even someone pining after my boyfriend.”
Sam swallows heavily. “Thank you.”
His voice is raspy. Pained. Like he knows all too well that she holds a delicate balance in her hands; that an illusion as fragile as glass could be so easily smashed. He is at the mercy of her ethics. Fortunately, she has them.
At least, for now, the illusion is shattered between Augusta and Sam. She no longer has to play act in front of him.
“I’m tired of this,” she says. “I’m going to read inside.”
Sam watches with nervous eyes as she stands and walks away.
I just finished chapters 13 to 15. Truth serum tequila! Loved the writing and the scenario felt real. Keep them coming!
Sam is a confusing man. I didn’t want that chapter to end!