The sheet made a satisfying snap as Wynter shook it out across the bed. It felt good to finally be doing something productive, even if it did nothing to solve her money problems. She had a load of laundry in the wash, one in the dryer and was considering organizing the linen closet next. She might as well. Sam had disappeared again, much the same as he had done the day before.
“Why is it that I keep discovering you in my bedroom?”
Wynter, who had been sprawled across the bed, trying to get the sides of the sheet lined up, was happy to be facing the mattress. She supposed this did look pretty bad. And if she embarrassed easily, this situation would have been a doozy. At least she hadn’t been snooping around this time.
“If you’d quit avoiding me, I wouldn’t have to look for things to keep me busy.”
Floundering for a moment, her eight-month pregnant belly made standing up again a two part process. Wynter slid to her knees on the floor and then hauled herself upright, using the bed to steady herself. She wasn’t embarrassed, but it didn’t mean she cared to see the amusement that was probably all over Sam’s face just now.
“Oh, for crying out loud, you shouldn’t even be doing this.” He sounded more annoyed than amused, as he appeared by her side, guiding her away from the bed.
“I’m not helpless—I’m just pregnant!” Wynter’s voice was shrill, indignant.
“I meant you are a guest in this house, not my maid. If I wanted someone to change my sheets . . . ” He trailed off, looking around the room.
“You picked up my laundry too? God, Wynnie, you washed my underwear?” Sam’s hands flew up to tug at his hair, his expression stormy.
“It’s no big deal, Sam. I’ll let you fold them if it bothers you that much. You worried about what I’ll find in your underwear drawer?” She couldn’t resist teasing him. The guy looked completely flummoxed.
“Just leave my room to me, okay? My own little sanctuary. Let me just have this one space that’s private.”
Wynter sucked in a breath. Sam had hit below the belt with that one, but she couldn’t fault him for speaking the truth. Nodding curtly, she gave him a wide berth as she waddled as fast as her swollen feet would take her. Stupid, stupid! She hadn’t been invited. She’d played the childhood promise card and forced him to take her in temporarily. And then, just as quickly, she’d worn out her welcome.
Angry tears clouded her vision as she stood in front of the linen closet. She swiped them away with a shirtsleeve and began to haul down towels and sheets. A small pile lay at her feet when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t stifle the sob that welled up, burning her throat as it escaped. Sam took her hand and led her to the stairwell, easing them both down on the top riser.
“I’m sorry. I live alone. I work alone. I am very stuck in my ways. I’m not used to having someone else around, least of all a woman.”
“And a bossy woman who just marches in and does as she pleases.” Wynter’s lip quivered, as she was torn between laughing and crying.
“Just like she did when we were kids.” Sam slung an arm around her shoulders and squeezed briefly before letting go. “I never stopped thinking about you, you know.”
“Of course not.” She flashed him a half smile, cursing the hormones that brought the waterworks back on in force.
“You’re scared.”
“I’m determined.” She didn’t like how close he was to laying bare her feelings.
“What can we do?” That adorably messy lock of hair over his eye was starting to distract her.
“Move to a thriving metropolis, where I can find a good job and an apartment on a busy bus line?” She knocked her shoulder into his, playfully. Then left it there because the connection grounded her.
“I work from home. That makes me more flexible than most. But I’ve never really been interested in the city life.”
“Move back to Scallop Shores with me. You have family there. Your grandmother misses you. Your sister . . . ”
“My sister knows where to find me and knows she and the boys are more than welcome to visit any time.” The tone of his voice suggested this conversational thread was quite done.
Wynter frowned. She started to lean her head against Sam’s shoulder, something she wouldn’t have thought twice about doing as teenagers, but she stopped herself now. Sam had changed. They had changed. Things were no longer as easy and carefree as they’d once been.
“Can I borrow a newspaper? Maybe an internet connection? I’ll do some research. There has to be something local.”
“Borrow anything you need, Wyn. But it’s not like I’m going to charge you rent or anything. Relax, enjoy your pregnancy. In a few weeks, your world is going to change forever.”
She turned around sharply to face him. How had she not thought this through? She needed money to get home to Scallop Shores. She needed a job. She needed a car. And all the while she had this clock ticking away inside, counting down to the birth of her baby girl. She’d managed to dump all her problems, all her responsibilities, into Sam’s lap.
“I have to get out of here.” She gripped his knees, panic lending strength and probably a few bruises. Gently, he pried her hands away and held them.
“Holt wouldn’t want you to go through this alone, Wyn. I know I failed you both as a friend. But I’d like to think that he’d give me this chance to make it up to you. He’d want you taken care of. If I were him, I would.” Sam’s voice was soft.
“I need to pay my way. This is just temporary. I want to go home, Sam.” The panic had subsided, leaving a steely determination and more than a touch of stubborn pride.
“Let me talk to someone. I may have an idea for a job.”
“But I still get to clean house and cook meals.” She stuck out her chin, daring him to argue with her.
“Fine. But Wynter? Leave my underwear alone.”
• • •
Upside down. That’s what she’d done to his life, flipped it completely upside down. Sam reached for the milk in the fridge, only to find that Wynter had moved things around. He used to know where everything was. Hell, it was his house, he should know! Now this little fiery tornado had swept in and knocked his quiet solitary life off kilter.
Pouring himself a glass, he found some satisfaction in returning the cardboard carton to its original spot on the top shelf inside the door. She’d totally called it when she had accused him of hiding. But the longer she spent under his roof, the more Sam found himself seeking her out. Though part of that, he had to admit, was just to keep tabs on what sort of mischief she was currently up to. Not that her antics angered him, really quite the opposite. Though he kept up a gruff façade so she didn’t completely tear his house apart.
Oh, Wynter. He’d thought about her over the years, much as he tried not to. His grandmother thought she was doing him a favor when she filled him in on Wynter’s latest letters. They’d always had a strong bond and had kept up correspondence over the years. His sister was giddy the day she informed him that his two best friends had gotten married. He’d drunk himself stupid that night.
He’d tied the events of one fateful night to Wynter. Unfairly, no question, but it served a dual purpose. If he didn’t see her, he wouldn’t remember the pain, the loss, the crippling weight of guilt that had sent him into seclusion in the first place. He’d also hoped the distance would dull the longing, the bittersweet dreams of first love. Sam scoffed, wiping milk from his lips with the back of his hand.
Wynter’s pregnancy hormones were permeating the air, making him think about his feelings. It was disgusting. Just another way she blasted in and changed things. He didn’t want to think, about that fateful night or about how things might have been. He was good, really good, at burying his feelings. And without trying, Wynter was even better at dredging them up.
He had to help her get on her feet. The sooner she was gone, the better. He drummed his fingers on the counter, wondering how best to approach his prickly neighbor about a paying job for Wynter. Riley took a while to warm up to new people in his life. Sam wasn’t sure how his wheelchair-bound friend would treat Wynnie, but knowing her, she could handle anything Riley dished out.
“Sam! Goonies is on. Get in here.”
Now that was a blast from the past. Sam and Wynter must have watched that movie a hundred times while they were growing up. He was drawn to the TV room, where the familiarity wrapped around him like a comfortable blanket. She looked up from the couch, smiling eagerly as she patted the cushion beside her. Sam sat down, stretching his long legs out and resting them on the rough-hewn pine coffee table. He lifted his arm and Wynter took up her usual position, snuggled up to his side. Like time had gone backwards.
“We need popcorn,” he said, at the first commercial break.
“Oh, please, no.” She sat up, wrinkling her nose. “The smell of popcorn makes me nauseous. Sorry. Pregnancy thing.” She shrugged her shoulders, giving him an embarrassed smile.
Reality came crashing back to the forefront, reminding Sam of all the years he had missed. Yeah, he’d gotten reports from Gran and Paulie, but it wasn’t the same as having his friend right here. He turned to her, finally ready to learn about her life with Holt, to learn about his other friend’s fate.
“So you and Holt got married about ten years ago and moved to SoCal?” He turned to face her, unsure if she was up to talking about her husband, so recently buried.
Wynter’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t look hurt or upset.
“Yeah, well, we were out there already, for school. Remember?” All three of them had gotten into UCLA and though their career paths differed, they were determined not to break up the trio.
After losing his parents, Sam had transferred, last minute, to a computer science school in upstate New York. He hadn’t left a forwarding address for either Holt or Wynter. The trio was officially disbanded.
“Anyway, Holt had his heart set on being an actor. He was constantly going on auditions. And he was an extra a few times. Just another body in a large crowd scene. Never got to speak a single line, but you should have seen how proud he was.” She shook her head, her smile reminiscent.
“Why not New York? You guys would have been closer to home, able to visit for the holidays.”
“He had this ridiculous obsession with Hollywood. Holt insisted that is where he had to be. Oh, and he worked so hard to make connections, Sam.” Her eyes left his, focusing on a point in her past that only Wynter could see.
“He got a job as a valet at Universal. He was also a waiter at restaurants near all the major studios.”
“And you? Did the housewife thing, parked it on the couch to eat bonbons in front of the soaps all day?” His smile was mischievous, yet he pretended to wince when she jabbed him a good one in the arm. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Alas, the housewife route was not for me. College loans don’t pay themselves back, and Holt was not exactly raking it in. I didn’t either, for that matter, but I sure loved my job.”
Sam marveled at the peace that settled over her features, the glow that had nothing to do with pregnancy and everything to do with happiness, a life fulfilled.
“I happened upon it totally by accident. This little hole-in-the-wall bookstore in Sherman Oaks. This guy specialized in old books, rare manuscripts, out of prints, first editions.” Wynter rubbed her belly, absently, and continued to smile off into space.
“You’re still wishing Gran would give you her store when she retires, aren’t you?” Sam grinned, wrapping an arm around his friend and drawing her back against his side.
“It’s her store, silly. I don’t want it outright; I want to run it for her. I’m gonna wear her down, you’ll see.”
“I’ve no doubt you’ll do it, too.”
Since her eyes were now closed and she rested comfortably against him, he gathered up the nerve to ask his next question.
“How did he die, Wyn? Did he . . . suffer?” Sam knew his fingers shook and he used the pretense of rubbing Wynter’s arms to keep her from noticing.
She seemed less inclined to make eye contact than he did. He felt her sink against his side, her breath hot against his neck.
“No, he didn’t suffer. He had a heart attack. Crazy, right? Thirty years old. But they told me he had an enlarged heart, and that he’d been living on borrowed time. We never knew.”
“Was he home? Were you . . . ” As much as he would have liked to know that his friend had been surrounded by loved ones when he passed, Sam was equally horrified at the thought of Wynter having to witness her husband dying.
“He fell asleep on the bus, on the way home from a late shift. The driver couldn’t wake him. He went peacefully.”
A shudder passed through her body and straight into his. Sam knew firsthand what that was like. He shook off his own bad memories, worried that he’d pushed Wynter too hard. She didn’t need to dredge all this up again, especially not so soon. He leaned over and scooped her onto his lap, holding her tight. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. They held each other for a long time, neither speaking.
He’d thrown away the last twelve years. The only memories he had to hold on to were of a friend on the cusp of manhood, not the man Wynter had come to know. Bitterly, he chastised himself for thinking that seclusion was the only answer.
A single tear began to trickle down. Sam quickly brushed his cheek against the top of Wynter’s soft hair.
“He understood. He never blamed you for leaving.”
Sam continued to hold her, their movie long since forgotten. At one time, he would have seen a moment like this as a hopeful sign, that she finally saw him as more than just a friend. But that was a long time ago. He’d made a choice that had taken him out of the picture, permanently. Wynter had chosen Holt. And though he may not be around anymore, Sam owed it to his once best friend to treat his widow with respectful distance.
“Are Holt’s parents still in Scallop Shores? You want to raise the baby there. I’m sure they want to be a part of her life. Sounds like a win/win to me.” He wasn’t trying to push her away again. He was just curious.
“Oh, they’re still in the same little blue house on the corner. I do want Holt’s daughter to be a part of their lives. I’ll encourage it.”
“But you said you didn’t get on well with them?”
“We weren’t close. I guess I tend to hold parents, anyone’s parents, at arm’s length. At first, Holt was really hoping his own parents could be a sort of replacement for mine. He pushed for visits. Gave us lots of one-on-one time.” Looking away, Wynter’s features twisted in discomfort.
“It was . . . awkward. I just couldn’t get comfortable around them. They tried, really. It was all me.” She went quiet once more, squirming closer.
He’d take care of her. He’d help raise Holt’s baby, if she asked. But he’d keep his feelings for Wynter to himself. He had hidden them for the last twelve years. How hard could it be to just continue with the status quo?
“I’ve missed you so much, Sam,” she whispered, as she slid down to rest her head on his chest. Within seconds she was snoring softly.