Chapter 7
The hot summer air hung low and heavy that created a hazy bubble around the lake. Sam and Olivia were sitting on the dock with their feet dangling in the water, looking out over the lake - the water was eerily calm, like glass. It just added to the calmness in his body and in his heart. It felt as if they were the only two people in the world and nothing could touch them.
They often ended their days like this, after long shifts in the lifeguard tower, or running around doing whatever Ray needed help with. Sometimes they would go all day without catching a minute together, only being able to toss “hey’s” to each other as they were jogging to their next post. Sam had realized over time working at Keller Campground he hadn’t recognized how fulfilling it felt to be needed. Ray had counted on him for a number of things, and to have the trust of someone that he respected whole heartedly, was a responsibility he didn’t intend to squander.
“What are you thinking about?” At Olivia’s voice, Sam turned to look at her and realized she was looking at him with a slight smile on her face, her head tilted with a little bit tentativeness in her eyes. She must have been able to pick up on his mood, knowing tons of emotions were running through his mind. He flashed her a quick smile and then focused his attention back across the lake.
“A lot of things,” he huffed out a contemplative breath. “I’m really happy to be here. This campground has become my home, thanks to you. But I guess I’m more happy to be sitting here with you,” he nudged her shoulder with his.
He never shied away from his nerves of being honest with her, because with Olivia, there were no secrets. Sam felt that every thought and emotion he had in his body belonged to her. And that she would take care of them. She accepted him and that was something he had never had in his life and would never take for granted ever again.
“I’m happy you’re here too, Sam.” She said this with such ease, as she rested her head onto his shoulder. His body became a mess of contradictions the instant she touched him. He felt his whole being relax in a way that screamed comfort, but his insides began to tighten and coil, which had been happening more frequently every time Olivia touched him these days.
It took him hours to fall asleep most nights, despite being exhausted from his long hours working. But the thoughts of Olivia consumed him at night, making it impossible for him to shut his mind off in a timely manner. The way her leg muscles flex underneath her favorite cutoff shorts as she runs around the campground. The way she piles her long, blonde hair on top of her head haphazardly but is still able to make it look adorable. The way her blue eyes sparkle when she throws her head back in laughter. The way he wants to taste her lips when she applies her favorite cherry chapstick.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, he sighed and leaned back to lay on the dock to look up at the stars. Olivia followed suit and rested her head next to his as they lay in silence for a few minutes. The sparkling of the stars glittered the night sky and seemed to be winking down at the two of them, almost daring one of them to open up to the other about the feelings racing around their hearts.
Their hands rested by their sides inches from each other, a heat emanating from the other, both their bodies taut with tension. Not being able to stand not feeling her touch, Sam brushed his fingertips gently against hers. She made a sound so quiet, he wasn’t sure if he”d imagined it. But when she intertwined her fingers with his, he was positive the small whisper of a moan that escaped her mouth was real. The muscles in his shoulders started to bunch tight, a response shot through his system like a bolt of lightning. They lay still, looking up at the glittered sky, holding hands in silence for what seemed like hours. Sam’s heart pounded furiously in his chest, drawing out the sound of crickets chirping in the woods behind them.
Come on, Callahan. Man up. Lean over and kiss her. In 3, 2 –
“What is one happy memory you have with your parents?” Olivia broke the silence.
Shit. Well, you blew that moment. Way to go asshole. Maybe she’s holding my hand because we’re best friends, not because she wants anything more.
“Umm…” Trying to shake his thoughts loose from almost feeling Olivia’s lips on his, he forced himself to refocus. “There was this one time, my dad had been gone for a few days, God knows where, I must have been six or seven. I woke up to the sounds of my mom in the kitchen at the stove, which I honestly think was the first time I’d ever seen her use it. She was making pancakes. There was flour everywhere, it seemed like she had used every single pot and pan we had in the house. It was an absolute mess. When I walked in, she told me that she was trying to make me pancakes, because it was the weekend and every little boy deserved to wake up to the smell of pancakes on a Saturday morning. I peeked around her and noticed that the first ones she had tried were completely flat and burnt, and I remember looking up at her and we both just started laughing. Before I knew it, she was flicking flour in my face and we had an all out food fight right there in the kitchen. By the time we were done, we were sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor laughing hysterically before she hopped up and said we were going to eat pancakes at Dottie’s Diner. It was the first time I’d ever eaten in a restaurant, so that was pretty special.”
Olivia’s head was turned sideways so she could look at him. He was absolutely beautiful. His dark hair was falling over his face, minutely obstructing his gorgeous green eyes. It was hard to believe that someone so beautiful on the outside had a heart inside to match. Sam had been through so much as a child, but instead of being bitter or angry, he was caring and soft and kind. She wanted everything good to happen for this man, because he had the biggest heart of anyone she’d known.
“Your mom was right,” Olivia said, looking back up to the sky.
“About what?” His eyes never wavered from her face.
“Every little boy does deserve to wake up to the smell of pancakes on Saturday morning.”
He gave her hand a tight squeeze and took a deep breath. They lay there in companionable silence for a little while longer, before Sam had to break the moment.
“It’s getting close to your curfew, I should walk you back before your dad comes out to find us,” Sam said sitting up.
Groaning, Olivia followed. “You would think being almost eighteen I wouldn’t still have a curfew.”
Chuckling, Sam patted his back in invitation for Olivia to hop on. “Actually, I think that’s exactly the point of a curfew. Once you’re eighteen, you’re not legally obligated to listen. And I think your dad will enforce said curfew up until midnight of August 22.”
Hopping on his back effortlessly, she softly wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her chin on his shoulder. “Weird to think that pretty soon we will both be adults. How much do you think will change?”
The way her breath whispered the skin on the inside of his neck caused Sam’s toes to curl in his sneakers, so he tightened his grip around her legs that were wrapped around his waist.
“I think that’s the cool thing, things will change, but also stay the same.” He shifted his head to look at her profile.
“What things will change, do you think?” There was a slight invitation to her voice, hinting that she was hoping for a specific answer.
“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe we’ll start making pancakes every Saturday morning?”
Chuckling in his ear, she planted a kiss on his cheek as they approached her house. Hopping off his back and taking the front porch steps two at a time, she turned around and gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.
“Sam, you have a childhood of Saturday pancakes to catch up on, we’d better start soon. Goodnight.”
She walked in and quietly closed the front screen behind her. Leaning her back against the door, she took two steadying breaths to calm her heart rate. One thing she was sure wasn’t going to change? That she was hopelessly in love with Sam Callahan, and she was going to make sure that he knew it.
Sam pulled up to his house a little after midnight, it had been a long day, but it never felt long enough. Because at the end of every day, despite how much time he spent at the campground, he always had to return back to his house. In reality, the four walls were really only “home” to him while he was sleeping before he woke up with the sun to escape and do it all over again. His parents never seemed to care, they were either out at the one bar in town, or holed up in their room sleeping off their latest bender. Sometimes Sam wondered if they even remembered they had a son, going days and sometimes week long stretches without setting eyes on each other.
Since being released from prison, Sam’s father had been required to gather employment, but he seemed to consider that requirement loosely. He had held jobs here and there, never holding one position for too long, but strategically stretching the gaps between jobs to the limit before his parole officer reprimanded him. Sam was beginning to think his father was a bit smarter than he had given him credit for.
Turning off the ignition, he leaned back in his seat and let out a long breath. He would be kicking himself for weeks over the fact that he hadn’t mustered up the courage to kiss Olivia. He was pretty sure she was practically inviting him to, but what if he were reading the signals wrong and he tried and she laughed in his face? Their friendship would never be the same, and he couldn’t even fathom not having Olivia in his life in this capacity. She was his main reason for happiness, and the life at the campground that she had opened up for him meant the world to him He didn’t want to make it awkward for either of them.
But his feelings for her seemed to grow deeper with each passing day, and if his growing heart was any indication, he was going to have to do something about it before it exploded in his chest. Making a promise to himself that he would tell her how he felt before the end of the summer, regardless of the outcome, he pushed out of his truck and trudged to the back of the house in search of some sleep.
As he entered the mudroom, the smell of cigarette smoke and booze instantly consumed him. Taking a deep breath and calling on his strength as if he were preparing for battle, he stepped into the kitchen unsure of what he’d find.
Bottles were strewn everywhere, stale smoke lingered in the air, and the remnants of pizza littered the small eat-in kitchen table. The noise of raucous, drunken laughter filtered into the room, and Sam decided to make a break for his bedroom down the one short hallway past the living area, hoping to go undetected.
Ever since his father had been released from jail, there was a revolving door of strangers. Strangers who brought God knows what into the house. Booze. Drugs. Hookers. It was hard to tell. Sam was gone at the campground from sunup to long past sundown, and most evenings he was able to sneak into his room in the back of the house without anyone noticing. A few months back he had walked into his room to find a woman and a man fornicating on his bed, so the next morning he had installed a lock from the outside and deadbolt on the inside, so he could ensure his small square of space remained unsoiled.
“Sammy Boy!” The voice of his father called.
Shit.
So much for trying to sneak by unnoticed.
“Why don”t you come in and join us for a drink.” Sam reversed his steps and walked into the small living space with trepidation. He quickly made a sweep of the room, to find a blonde stranger sitting on his father’s lap, holding a half bottle of tequila in her hand. His mother was passed out on the lone sofa, and another man sat in a chair that had been brought in from the kitchen.
“Howie, pour my boy a stiff one, will ya?” His father’s eyes were glassy and his movements were languid and loose as he waved his arm in Sam’s direction.
“Sure thing, Greg,” the other man slurred as he looked around for a glass. Sam could tell instantly that everyone was obliterated, and he wasn’t going to stick around to see it.
“No thanks, I’m going to head to bed, I have to get up early tomorrow,” he said as he started to back out of the room.
“Don’t be a pussy, boy. Join your old man in one drink,” Greg bellowed as the blonde poured some tequila into his mouth straight from the bottle. She giggled as some spilled down his chin, and he squeezed her ass as she licked it off him provocatively.
“Maybe next time,” as he turned his back to head down the hallway, something shattered on the wall to his left. Realizing his dad had ripped the bottle from the blonde, he began to see they were much drunker than he thought - and that could only mean one thing in regards to Greg – rage.
“Aww, Greg, there was half a bottle left!” The other man whined as he poured himself a scotch. He was leaning against the fireplace mantle in an effort to keep himself upright as he turned to watch the showdown between man and son.
“Fuck off Howie. Now son, I’m not going to ask you again, sit your ass down and have a drink.” His eyes shot daggers in his direction.
“No.” In the past, Sam would cower to whatever Greg told him to do, but not anymore. Since becoming older, taller, and stronger, he had resolved not to let his father dictate his fear.
“Boy, you better sit down before I make you sit down,” Greg growled in a dark voice as he pushed the blonde aside and stood up slowly. “That’s no way to treat your old man. You treat me with respect and do as you”re told.”
“I think you’ve had enough for the both of us. Why don’t you go sleep it off?” Sam almost sneered, unable to hide his disgust.
The crack rang out quicker than he could react, Greg’s fist connecting directly to Sam’s cheek. Sam tasted the unmistakable iron flavor and reached up to touch his lip just as his father delivered another blow. Fully aware he could now take his father in a fight, thanks to his strength and the fact that he was sober, he decided to harness his anger and be the bigger man.
“Hit a new low now, haven’t you Greg? Now you don’t even wait until we’re alone to wail on me, now you want an audience. Way to go, Big Man.”
“Now you listen here, you ungrateful prick. Never forget who is in charge here. I am. Me. I am the man of the house. You answer to me. You better check yourself before I really decide to put you in your place. Do you understand me, boy?”
Greg was inches away from Sam’s face, and he wanted nothing more than to pummel his fists repeatedly against the snarl that was plastered on his father’s face. But instead, he shook his head as he stormed out of the back door to his truck. The sounds of shouting and smashing bottles still echoed in his head as he drove away into the night.