Chapter Twelve #2
“Sounds like we both have stories,” Dallis acknowledged ruefully. “I know what we need!” Dallis suddenly jumped off her stool and grabbed Sam’s hand. “Come on,” she said, tugging gently. “Let’s dance.”
Sam didn’t budge. “Jordan clearly didn’t tell you anything about me, did he?” Dallis tilted her head and then tugged again. “If I’m going to dance, I’ll need a shot first.”
She gestured to the bartender and ordered a round of three when she had their attention.
She handed one of the shots to Dallis, grabbed the other two, and made her way out to where a gaggle of young men surrounded Jordan.
At their approach, he squeezed through the crowd and took the glass she held.
They clinked gently in a toast and then threw it back.
Sam resisted the urge to cough as the liquid went down her throat. “Damn, that’s bad.” She grimaced.
Jordan threw his head back and laughed. He took her empty glass and set it on a nearby high-top. “Come on, girls.” He tugged on Sam with one hand and Dallis with the other. “The night is young.”
She never could resist her best friend. She glanced at Dallis, who was looking at her again with that questioning raised eyebrow. Finally, she shrugged and let herself be led.
Forty-five minutes later, Sam plopped herself back into a chair at the bar.
She was hot and sweaty and could use another drink.
She signaled the bartender for another beer and turned to watch Jordan and Dallis, who were still going strong on the dance floor.
Sam didn’t have their enthusiasm. She felt like she had fulfilled her dancing obligation for the night and had no desire to continue.
“Is this seat taken?” Sam’s head turned to see a soft butch with short, swoopy blond hair gesturing toward the seat next to her.
Sam sighed internally. She hated this part of going out.
She always felt like she was just one of many who were on display in a vast human shopping mall.
She tilted her head. At places like Splash, it might have been more like a zoo.
She was accustomed to attention and had received enough of it back in Boston.
But she still hated letting people down.
She usually did it with a wince and an apologetic shrug, which wasn’t surprising as she tended to avoid confrontation.
“Actually, yes, it is.” Sam looked up at the voice to see Dallis standing before them. “That there is my seat.” Dallis slipped into the chair beside Sam and moved so close their arms and legs touched. Dallis leaned closer to Sam for emphasis.
“Oh, I get it.” The girl raised her hands. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you were together.” She nodded at both women and backed away with a muttered, “You two enjoy your night.” Sam and Dallis watched her saunter back to another table, where several other women were looking on.
“I’m sorry,” Dallis said. She moved her chair further from Sam and turned to face her. Her forehead scrunched in doubt. “I just presumed you weren’t interested in her…” she said, gesturing with her hand. “For several reasons. Was I wrong?”
Sam let out a breath. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “In no way were you wrong.”
“Good.” Dallis looked pleased with herself.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not great at this.” Sam grimaced and looked down at her hands.
Dallis tilted her head to the side, studying Sam. “What do you mean? Not great at what?”
Sam rubbed her face with her hands, trying to collect herself.
“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Girls, maybe? Maybe all of it.” She shook her head.
Maybe it was the beer, which was her fourth of the night, on top of however many shots they’d had.
Regardless, she was feeling some intense self-doubt. “I don’t know, life maybe?”
“Pish.” Dallis waved her doubts away with her hand. “That is utterly ridiculous, Sam.”
Sam gaped at her, speechless. “I’m sorry?” she stuttered.
“You should be.” Dallis pointed at her. “You, Samantha Martin, are a right good looker, as we say in Ireland.” She gave Sam a saucy wink.
Sam blushed. “I don’t know about all that,” she said, rubbing at her neck, feeling a little bit embarrassed.
“Shush.” Dallis’s tone was firm. “It’s true.
I’ve only known you for a few hours, but from what I can see, you are brilliant.
” She ticked off a finger. “Exceptionally easy to talk to.” Another finger.
“Playful and fun.” Dallis held up a third finger.
“Not to mention super cute.” Dallis squinted at Sam.
“And, if I am being honest, maybe a little sexy.” Dallis looked at her hand with five fingers outstretched and gestured to Sam.
“See,” she said, showing her hand like it was obvious. “You’ve ticked all the digits.”
“Thank you, Dallis.” Sam’s tone was quiet.
She thought over the past several weeks about all the revelations and relationships she’d mended since coming home.
She thought about Tegan, and in hindsight, she could see that it was an extremely dysfunctional relationship.
She let her thoughts slide even further back to Nadine Weaver and the words she had flung at Sam when she was so young and impressionable. She felt her eyes well up.
“Man,” Dallis said softly. Her eyes were searching Sam’s face. “Someone sure did a number on you.”
“Try several someones.” Sam scoffed mirthlessly. She swiped at a stray tear that had snaked down her cheek. When had she become such a crier?
“Oh, Sam, come here, love.” Dallis reached out and wrapped Sam in her arms.
For a moment, Sam let herself be held. Leaning into the hug felt good.
She was getting more hugs in the last two days than she had her whole time in Boston.
That said something about the kind of relationships she had in Hicksville as opposed to the city she now called home.
After a few moments, Sam retreated from Dallis’s embrace and looked shyly at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not knowing what exactly she was sorry for.
Dallis put an arm on Sam’s forearm and squeezed reassuringly. “Don’t be sorry.” She smiled. “Let’s have another drink, and you can tell me all about these women that hurt you.” Dallis lifted her other hand to signal another round to the bartender. “And I can tell you about mine.”
Over the next hour, Sam poured her heart out to Dallis.
She wasn’t sure where to start, so she just started at the beginning.
She told her about how she and Alex met in high school during Sam’s senior year, about how they had had a secret relationship for two years before that fateful night when the Weavers came home a little too early.
She recounted Nadine’s wrath in vivid detail, and the ensuing fallout.
And then there were the driftless years where Sam existed in a haze, trying to forget about Alex but never really quite getting over her.
There were the other girls she had dated, and the most recent catastrophe with Tegan.
And, of course, Sam told Dallis all about her mother, her illness, her passing, and what brought her back to Hicksville.
She concluded with a recap of her current situation and the burgeoning yet fragile friendship she was forming with Alex.
“But you want more?” Dallis’s head rested on her hand, her elbow on the bar. She was watching Sam carefully.
Sam sighed and looked at the ceiling. That was the question. What did she want from Alex? What did Alex want from her? “I’m not sure it matters.”
“Of course it matters!” Dallis slapped her hand against the bar. “Of course your feelings matter!”
“I’m not saying they don’t matter.” Sam blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m just saying that maybe that ship has sailed. I go back to Boston soon. It would be silly to start something right now.” She turned toward Dallis and lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
Dallis still wasn’t having it. “Oh, honey.” She placed her hand on Sam’s arm. “It is never too late for love. You take any little bit you can get. Maybe you should give this a chance…just see where it might go.” Her expression turned wistful. “Now, let me tell you about me and my Ciara.”
Sam listened as Dallis told her the story her first love, Ciara.
It sounded like something out of a Disney movie.
Ciara was the daughter of a wealthy family in Bray, where Dallis grew up.
They met when Dallis was working as a tutor for Ciara, who wanted to attend college in the United States but didn’t have high enough test scores.
Of course, spending that much time so closely together, they fell in love.
But Ciara became ill with leukemia. Her parents sent her to the best hospital in Dublin, but it was too late.
She passed away shortly thereafter. Even though they had only been seeing each other for a few months, Dallis had been heartbroken.
Ciara’s family knew how much Dallis meant to her and was very accepting of it, despite being a very strict Catholic household.
When Ciara passed, her family paid for Dallis to attend college in the US, fulfilling Ciara’s dream.
That had been nine years ago, and Dallis still couldn’t look at another woman.
“I will love her always and forever,” she finished, her eyes staring into the distance.
“All these years later, and I’m not even looking for anyone else.
So, I understand a little bit about the lasting nature of first loves.
” She shifted her gaze back to Sam. “You have options, Sam.” Her tone was firm.
“And from what you’ve told me, it seems like you have one very good option. ”
“But how would it even work?” Sam shook her head. “She’s here. I live in Boston.” She shrugged. “Besides, how do I even know she wants that or anything else from me?”
“You ask!” Dallis exclaimed as if it were apparent. Maybe it was, Sam conceded.
“What do I do if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Sam didn’t know if she could even bear putting herself out there, especially to Alex, only to have her not reciprocate.
“Well, you know what they say, don’t you?” Dallis gave Sam’s arm one more pat and then leaned back.
“No.” Sam shook her head. “What do they say?”
Dallis smiled knowingly, a glint in her eyes. “You never do forget your first love.”
Sam shook her head in agreement. She leaned over and touched her beer lightly to Dallis’s. “No,” she said softly, taking a drink. “You sure don’t.”
“And they likely aren’t forgetting you…” Dallis winked at her over her drink.