Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Do you have your medication?” Sam’s mom asked. The concerned frown was back.
They stood by the front door with Sam’s bags in a pile in the hallway, waiting for his dad to come downstairs to take him to the airport.
Sam had aced the phone interview with his sister’s contact and was flying out to Chicago that afternoon to meet her in person for a second interview.
He figured he’d stay on for a few days and get a feel for the city and what might be his new home.
But despite the success of the call and the very real possibility that he’d land the job, he felt wooden, as if going through the motions.
Sam tried not to let the annoyance show. His mother had been strongly against the move and believed he would be better off at home under her watchful eye. She was disappointed when he told her he’d left his job at Finnegan’s and had accused his sister of meddling.
“Yes, Mom. I got Mr. Willis to fill a new prescription yesterday,” he replied. “I’ve got everything sorted, okay? There’s nothing to worry about.”
But his mother didn’t look convinced. She watched as he rummaged around in his satchel for his phone. “It’s just, you’ve been a little down lately.”
“More than usual?”
She shot him a look. “Yes, more than usual. That wouldn’t have anything to do with the handsome electrician you’re leaving behind?”
“Mom!” Sam’s eyes widened.
“Oh, come on, Samuel. You think I didn’t know there was someone?
You were gone so much we barely saw you.
I put two and two together at the awards dinner.
You should’ve seen your face light up when you saw him.
” Sam flushed bright red, and his mother patted his arm reassuringly.
“Don’t worry. I kept my suspicions to myself.
You’re not a teenager anymore. It’s none of my business who you’re sneaking around with. ”
“And yet here we are talking about it,” Sam muttered. He studied his mom cautiously. “Weren’t you... weren’t you shocked?”
“About Connor?” His mother gave a little laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. I learned early on not to judge a book by its cover. I just hope one day, he’ll get around to telling Maureen. She worries constantly about that boy.”
“I think he’d be surprised to know how many people are in his corner,” Sam said. “He acts like it’s him against the world.”
The pang hit him right between the ribs. He’d told Connor he couldn’t be with him because hiding their relationship made Sam feel alone. But he hadn’t considered how lonely it must be for Connor, who was hiding all the time. Being himself around Sam must have felt so freeing.
He looked down at his hands and tried to hide the lurch of sadness. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The whole thing was too... complicated.”
“Did Connor like you back?”
Sam’s pulse quickened when he thought of Connor’s adoring expression. Sam would fight the urge to glance over his shoulder, convinced it must be someone else he was looking at. He nodded.
“Did he treat you badly?”
“Never.”
“Well, what’s complicated about that?”
Sam gave a frustrated sigh. “It’s not that simple. You were there. You saw what happened that night.”
“I saw a young man struggling to call out his father’s prejudice.
Connor was clearly upset. We’re often more accepting of bad behavior when it’s directed at us but less so when aimed at someone we care about.
Perhaps he just needed the right opportunity to realize that some people are worth confronting what’s painful. ”
Sam blinked, silenced by his mother’s insight.
“We can be so quick to leave a situation when we encounter an obstacle and other times ignore all obstacles and stay much longer than we should.” She gave him a knowing smile. “Finding the right balance is a tricky business.”
Sam flooded with shame when he thought of what he’d put up with from Felix, all the red flags he ignored, and the cruelty he made excuses for.
It was possible that in his effort to avoid repeating those mistakes, he had overcorrected.
Maybe instead of an ultimatum, there might have been room for a discussion.
Then he remembered the way Connor’s face had shuttered when Sam told him he was leaving. It was too late for what-ifs.
“This will be good for me, Mom,” he tried to reassure her. “A fresh start, a chance to get back into the swing of things.” But as he spoke, the words sounded hollow.
Earlier that morning, when he was shaving in the bathroom, his hand had given a little tremor. He was about to throw himself back into the shark-infested waters of competitive, career-obsessed corporate America. The thought made his heart hammer.
“Well, if you’re sure. You know best.” His mom clicked her tongue. “We’d better get a move on, then. Where is your father?” She threw an exasperated look at the staircase. “I swear, if that man is in the back of the closet with his old crossword books again...”
His mom disappeared up the stairs, and Sam heard the phone ring from the kitchen. What would a call accomplish that a text couldn’t? he thought as he walked down the hall.
He picked up the receiver hanging next to the fridge. “Bryant residence.”
“Oh. Is Lily in?” It was Maureen Finnegan. She sounded odd—soft and squeaky.
“She’s upstairs at the moment. I’ll go grab her.” Sam glanced at the clock on the stove to make sure they still had enough time before his flight.
“No, no need. It’s Maureen. Could you tell her I won’t be able to make our class tonight? Ian’s in the ICU.”
Sam clutched the phone to his ear. “The ICU?” he echoed. “Is he all right?”
A small sob came through the receiver. “It’s not looking good. Pneumonia—it progressed very quickly. One of the risk factors of the disease.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Sam asked, though what he really wanted to ask was, “How’s Connor?”
“Thank you. We’re hanging in there. If you could just let your mom know.” Maureen said goodbye and hung up abruptly.
Sam placed the receiver back in its cradle as his mother strode into the kitchen.
“There you are,” she snapped. “What is it with the men in this house and getting organized? Your father’s loading the bags into the car now.” She must have taken in his slackened face because she froze midscowl. “What’s happened?”
“Ian Finnegan’s in the hospital. That was Maureen saying it’s not looking good.”
His mother gasped. “Oh my God, poor Maureen!”
“And Connor,” Sam whispered, suddenly overcome by emotion. He could only imagine what Connor was feeling, with everything so strained between him and his father, so much still unresolved.
“Oh, Sam.” His mom reached out to pull him into a hug. He held her close, struck by how life could turn on a dime. “Do you still want to try and make your flight?” she murmured.
Sam remembered lying in bed in his apartment in Austin, paralyzed with fear.
He’d called Felix over and over and sent him increasingly unhinged messages, becoming convinced that no one had ever felt this bad and lived.
He hadn’t even wanted Felix to appear in the role of doting boyfriend; he’d just wanted a person—anyone—to show up for him.
Felix’s silence said what he’d long suspected but was too afraid to admit to himself: that when it came down to it, Sam had meant nothing.
He wouldn’t let Connor go through this alone. The fact that they were no longer together didn’t change how Sam felt about him. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be a person who showed up.