“Hey, kiddo,” Sam cheerily greeted as he turned to see Susan Ray.
“Hey, Sam,” Susan replied with a beaming smile as she plopped down next to him on the couch. Her bubbly personality always put a smile on his face. She stood a smidgen over five feet, and her slender, petite frame accented with a golden-blonde, pixie haircut made her appear much younger than she was. At first glance, most would mistake her for a fifteen-year-old high school girl instead of a recent college graduate. She was full of life and her wide, glowing eyes could instantly brighten any place she came into. “So, were you thinking of sticking around with us tonight?”
“Sorry, Sues, not tonight.”
She was nicknamed Sues with a fond affection by all who knew her. While she carried herself like a tomboy, she was too pretty to accurately fit the stereotype. Most of the guys in the CYA group took notice of her perky attractiveness but seemed put off by her adolescent appearance, quirky personality, and chirpy voice that seemed like it belonged on a cartoon show. She had developed a close friendship with Sam over the past year. He became her protective big brother and quickly found they could talk about anything with each other.
Instead of showing disappointment that Sam once again wouldn't stick around for their Bible study, she wrapped her arms around him and gave a quick hug. “We'll get you back in here someday.”
“Maybe,” Sam politely conceded.
Susan instantly read his pensive expression. “What's the matter?”
“Mulling over a job offer.”
Susan gasped. “No, sir!”
“Yeah, I really got one today.”
“From Blanchard? That fast?”
“Yeah, that fast.”
“Awesome!” Another hug followed. “Why so glum about it?”
“Just trying to make sure it's right for me.”
“Oh,” Susan groaned. “You're probably over-thinking it, as always. Please disconnect your brain before it overheats.”
“I can't.”
“Sam, someday you're going to wake up in a straightjacket while a nurse shoves a paper cup full of colorful pills down your throat.”
Sam chuckled. He always thought Susan had an offbeat but charming candidness. “If the job works out, I might be visiting that car dealership you work at.”
Her expression uncharacteristically dropped as she whispered into his ear. “I don't think that would be a very good idea. You're forgetting most of the sales guys there are crooks.”
Sam laughed. “You always take good care of me.”
“Always,” Susan replied with a determined grin.
“Sues!” Ron exclaimed as he walked into the family room with a large student Bible tucked under his arm.
“Hey, Ron,” Susan replied with equal zeal as she bounced up from the couch to give him a big hug. She always liked to arrive a bit early to spend a little time chatting with the guys of the house. The rest of the group would typically show up fashionably late.
Sam got up, as the appearance of Ron's big Bible was his cue to make an exit before everyone else started to arrive. As he approached the hallway to go upstairs, Susan stepped over and softly patted the back of his shoulder.
“I'm glad you got an offer. I'll be praying it's the right one. And you're always welcome here with us, anytime.”
Sam smiled and gently patted her on the head. He would retreat back to his bedroom, close his door to the world, boot up his PC, and start looking around for any reason he should turn the offer down. Something about it still didn't settle well with him.
* * *
The knock on Sam's bedroom door came at around eight-thirty. He heard the Bible study break up a few minutes before but he wasn't in the mood to go back downstairs and socialize. Many hung around for another hour or so to talk and watch TV.
“It's open,” Sam called out from his desk, still looking over some information on his PC monitor.
“Hi, Sam, sorry to bother you,” Angela Thompson gingerly replied as she peeked in. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure, come in.” Sam quickly looked around his room to make sure there wasn't anything embarrassing in sight. He had cleaned up a bit that afternoon in an attempt to distract himself from obsessing over the offer, but was worried about a stray pair of underwear, or if something equally as humiliating was still on the floor.
Angela stepped into his bedroom and quietly closed the door. Sam watched in hushed amazement. He had known her for a bit over a year, but it was unusual for her to seek him out like that. She was tall, slender, and had striking Mediterranean features. It usually left many guessing she was a model instead of a receptionist at a law firm. Most of the guys in the CYA group, and the rest of the world for that matter, would jump at a chance to date her. Her long, jet black hair, deep brown eyes, and voluptuous figure could open any door she wanted access to – and she was accustomed to flirting her way through doors. But Sam wasn't among the majority that was so easily swayed by her flirtations. His attention was firmly fixed on her roommate, Laura.
“Sorry to bother you, but I thought you'd be coming down after we were done, like you usually do.”
“I got busy doing some research.”
“About the company that made you the offer today?” Angela asked as she sat down on the corner of his bed.
Sam chuckled. “A topic of discussion down there?”
“Yeah, Sues and Ron brought it up. I'm really happy for you. I hope it works out.”
“Thanks.”
Angela nervously shifted around before continuing. Sam found himself getting a little apprehensive over her strange visit. She shared an apartment with Laura and Emily, so he was always careful about what he said regarding Laura around her.
“I just wanted to ask you something because you've known Carlos for a while. He was pretty chummy with me over the weekend and asked me for a date before we left last night.”
Sam tried to hide his surprise. “Oh, he didn't tell me. I mean, I kinda knew he was interested, but he didn't say anything about asking for a date.”
“I was wondering if you could tell me a little about him. You know, if he's really okay or not.”
“Well, Carlos and I go back to our sophomore year at BPI, and we did our share of partying. But he's settled down a bit. He's a nice guy who knows how to have some fun.”
Angela smiled. “So, you're okay with him? I'm just trying to be careful.”
“Yeah, I'm mean if you're into dating someone outside of the group. I'm just surprised you would.”
“Maybe I'm just looking for a nice guy who knows how to have some fun.”
“I hope it goes well.”
Angela rose. “Well, I'll let you get back to your work. Thanks again.” After taking a couple of steps, she hesitated and abruptly turned back. “So, what about you and Laura?”
Sam was turned halfway back to his PC desk when he froze. “What?”
“Come-on, Sam, are you going to wait much longer?”
Sam slowly turned his chair back to meet Angela's beaming grin. “What do you know?”
“Only what I see.”
“Oh, great,” Sam quietly moaned. “Was I that obvious?”
“I don't think you're overdoing it or anything. It's just that I probably notice it more than most, since I'm used to dealing with that sort of attention.”
“Does she know anything?”
“She hasn’t said anything to me. She'd more likely talk to Emily about it, anyway. But she's usually pretty observant, so I think that she's probably noticed something.”
“So, would it be too awkward to ask what you think my chances are?”
Angela smiled. “I can't think of any reason why she'd turn you down.”
Sam felt a weight lifted from him. “Thanks. I hope to talk to her soon.”
“Good for you. I really hope it works out.”
CHAPTER THREE
Tuesday, June 28, 1994
Bridge House - Lexington, Massachusetts
Sam wok
e up early the next morning and shuffled into the kitchen in his shorts and t-shirt. His hair was still askew with bed-head. Despite a cloudy start, the morning was already building into a hot and humid day. Ron and their other roommate, Tom Livingston, were eating breakfast and watching the newscast.
Tom had already showered after his morning workout. His muscular frame attested to his dedication to weight lifting. At six foot two, he was a physically intimidating presence.
“Hey, it's Sam,” Tom announced.
“Hey, Tom. Didn't see you come in last night.”
“Long day. It's monthly closing and I'm chained to my spreadsheets. Then again, you never bothered to come down after we were done.”
“Yeah, what's up with that?” Ron asked. “Everyone was happy to hear about your offer and you got all antisocial on us.”
“Sorry, I was busy doing some more research on Blanchard,” Sam muttered as he went to the refrigerator.
“So?” Tom asked after a pause.
“So, what?” Sam asked as he found a yogurt.
“Have you made up your mind?”
Sam sighed. “Honestly, I'm leaning toward declining.”
“What?” Tom blurted in astonishment.
“Are you sure?” Ron added. “It's a great company. The money is outstanding. You could even afford your own place.”
“I haven’t exactly said no yet.”
“But what changed your mind?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, why would you consider walking away from all that money?”
Sam opened his yogurt and sat down. “No matter how many times I go over the offer, it's like it's too good to be true. I just can't feel good about it, probably because the responsibility seems to be way over my head. Or maybe it just scared me that I hardly had to open my mouth to sell myself. I don't know, but I still have a few more days to think about it. I figured it would be a good idea to see if any other offers come in first.”
Ron smiled and nodded. “Very wise, Sam. I admire your patience.”
“I would've jumped at it,” Tom coldly asserted. Sam often noticed that he could come off a bit snide without meaning to. “If it doesn't work out, then move on to the next thing. No big deal.”
“I already tried that with my last job and it didn't work out too well. I want something better this time around because this whole job search thing really sucks. I don't want to go through it all again in a few weeks.”
“Can't blame you,” Ron reassured.
“We'll keep praying for you,” Tom added. “Something right will come along. We're all pulling for you, particularly Sues. And, wow, that little girl really likes to pray for you.”
Sam noticed Tom's subtle smirk and sideways glance to Ron. Ron tried his best not to react, but Sam just knew him too well.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Sam asked.
“You know, Sam, it's funny how you can get so intense about analyzing job offers and yet miss the obvious,” Tom replied with a condescending chuckle.
“Are you--,” Sam stopped himself as he looked at Ron, who was trying too hard not to smile. “Sues? Really?”
“Come on, Sam, she's always been hung up on you,” Ron said.
“Sues has a crush on all the guys in the CYA group,” Sam retorted.
“But not as big as the one she has on you,” Tom added in a teasing manner.
“Sorry, I just don't see it.”
“What's wrong with the idea of you two dating?” Ron asked.
Sam hesitated and snickered. “It's like you guys are trying to hook me up with my little sister, if I had one.”
“Oh, please, Sam,” Ron replied with a laugh. “Little sister? You know that's code for future girlfriend.”
“Trust me, guys, there's nothing there,” Sam emphatically retorted. “I think you're both totally misreading her. So please, just stop. You're creeping me out.”
Ron grimaced. “Hey, she's a sweet girl. High caliber.”
“Of course she is!” Sam protested. “I didn't mean it that way. I think the world of her, but we're just not into each other like that.”
“Okay, dude, relax,” Tom said while raising his hands. “Don't go defensive on us. We're just trying to help.”
“Yeah, don't be mad,” Ron added. “We'll drop it. We need our star short-stop in the right frame of mind for tonight's game.”
Sam smirked and sighed. “Just don't go there again. I've already got enough on my mind. Okay?”
“No problem, buddy,” Tom reassured. “Message received.”
Old Town Field- Bedford, Massachusetts
Ron retrieved a base from its dusty bag and tossed it near its position in the softball diamond. It landed in a cloud of dust and skidded to a resting place near a faded foul line. The umpire was stepping off the proper distance from home plate to third base, and every step he took left a miniature puff of dust hanging in the air. Even after a brief thundershower earlier that afternoon, the infield still had the consistency of dry, crushed chalk. The evening was still warm and sticky, and the sun was starting to hang in the hazy western horizon.
Overall, it wasn't an impressive ball-field. The backstop looked as though it had weathered every major storm since the Great Depression. The surface of the field was far from level. There were three sizable ruts in the browning outfield. One of them was in dead center field, and it took great concentration for an outfielder to avoid it while running down short fly balls. The right-hand batter's box resembled a canyon, dug out by the cleats of countless batters trying to find that elusive home-run stance.
The Calvary Bible softball team played in an independent local league. What had started years ago as a church-only league had morphed into a mishmash of teams represented by various gas stations, repair shops, and other small businesses. It was a different world fifteen years prior, when churches were in vogue and had many members to staff teams, as well as the finances to buy uniforms and equipment. However, the years that followed were not kind to most churches, several of which capitulated due to the decrease in their attendance and monetary resources. Calvary Bible was the last church to remain in a league that could barely afford to rent the cheapest softball diamonds available.
It was the final game of the semi-finals series, and the prior four games had been an intense but friendly competition. Their opponent, Belmont Auto, was once sponsored by a Catholic church that started the league with Calvary Bible. Several players on both teams had played since the early days of the softball league and knew each other well.
Sam picked up his glove and headed for third base for batting practice. While he was regularly the short-stop, he often liked to shag balls in the hot corner to sharpen his reflexes. Ron, Tom, and Carlos were also on the team, but they preferred to field batting practice in the outfield.
Most games were sparsely attended by spectators, but this game would draw plenty of fans on both sides. It gave the teams an extra boost of enthusiasm. Sam noticed a group of familiar faces searching for solid seating on a decaying grandstand. Susan immediately gave everyone a big wave, but most importantly to Sam, Laura was in the group.
“Well, look who's here,” Carlos teased Sam as they walked off the field after batting practice ended. “Still going to make a run at her tonight?”
“That's the plan. I heard you've been busy, too.”
“Oh?”
“Angela hit me up for a reference last night.”
“No shit, really?”
“Don't worry, I had your back.”
“Thanks, Maxie. I owe you a big one.”
“How did you manage to score a date?”
Carlos grinned as they sat down on the bench. “Fate smiled on me just before we left the retreat.”
“Which means you ran into her after ditching me when you were supposed to be packing.”
“Damn right. I'm taking her to Flanagan’s on Friday night.”
“Nice. Just promise me that you'll take it real slow and behave. Don't make a liar out of me.�
��
“Would I--”
“You would,” Sam quickly replied, mostly in jest.
“I promise I'll find a way to control myself, no matter how much she begs for it.”
Sam snickered. “You really need to grow up.”
Carlos shook his head. “What in the fuck has gotten into you lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you weren’t a guy, I'd swear you were in PMS.”
“Maybe it's because we're not nineteen anymore?”
“No shit, Sherlock. The playing field is bigger now. Lots more to tap out there.”
“Like Angela?”
“Hey, do I really need to keep telling you it's all just talk?”
“Carlos, this isn't like our old beer-rating game. She's a friend. I care about what happens to her.”
“Yeah, I get it, Maxie. I just like messing with you because you always get so fucking serious about that church group. And please don't tell me that you haven't given those girls a beer-rating in your mind.”
Sam sighed and shook his head.
“Oh, Maxie, don't bullshit me. Just look at them over there. How can you not rate them? Like Emily, she's at least a five-beer. A little on the chunky side, but if she lost a few, maybe three. Dianne, sweet ass, definitely a one-beer. Then there's, well, um,--”
“Sues?”
Carlos drew in a deep breath. “The little gymnast. Sorry, but no amount of beer would get me interested in that underage schoolgirl.”
Sam blurted a cynical chuckle.
“What?”
“Honestly, you're incapable of looking at women without objectifying them.”
“Objectifying? Seriously? Hanging with this group is making you fucking straight-edge.”
“Yeah, maybe that church Kool-Aid is stronger than I thought,” Sam mockingly retorted.
Carlos laughed. “Well, Maxie, we used to have a lot of fun beer-rating all the chicks.”
The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One) Page 4
