“If you don’t care that she knocked her partner down in the parking lot and went home with you the way she did, that she was basically cheating on Sally with you…that’s not like you, Sam.”
Sam sat on the top step and looked at Barry standing halfway up the stairs. “I just feel…like I have to do something…I feel so awful…I don’t know…”
Barry sat where he was and looked up at Sam. “Then go ahead and call her, Sam. Is that what you want to do? Then just call the bitch and get it over with.”
Sam took this as a challenge. She went into the bedroom, grabbed the cordless phone, and took it into the walk-in closet, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t need Valerie’s number—it was indelibly stamped in her memory.
She sat on the floor and dialed. She heard the back door slam. Barry had given up and gone back out on the porch.
When Valerie answered the phone, Sam suddenly realized what she was doing. What could she say? I know you’ve ignored me for six months, but I just wanted to hear your voice?
What she did say was, “Hey.”
“Samantha? Is that you?”
“Yeah…it’s Sam…it’s me. How are you?” Sam could think of nothing else to say.
“Sam, it’s so cool you called. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times.”
“Really? You could have…called me, I mean.”
“You know how it is with Sally and me. I try to keep the peace around here…she fuckin’ explodes if I even look at another woman!”
Sam could think of no appropriate answer to this.
“But I do want to see you, baby. I promise I do.”
“Cool. When could you? How?”
“Right before Christmas? Sally goes to see her daughter for the whole Christmas week. Can you get away?” A pause. “Hey, did you and…what’s his name…tie the knot?”
“Yes. Barry. We did. And yes, I can get away. I’ll figure it out.”
“Get a room at that same hotel near Mo’s. I’ll see you on the twenty-second. Shit, I can’t wait to see you, baby!” Sam smiled at the phone as she hung up. Then she realized she was sitting in her closet, making a date with the woman Barry called “that bitch.” And she now had to go downstairs and tell Barry what she had done. It didn’t even occur to Sam to hide her date from Barry; that simply wasn’t what they did. Sometimes she got angry and frustrated with him, and sometimes had moments of panic when she thought about being married, but Barry was always her best friend. She would tell him this, just like she told him everything.
* * * *
A few days later, Sam was at work, staring at her computer screen and trying to focus on the project at hand. It was only a week or so until the planned meeting with Valerie, and Sam’s thoughts were a jumbled mess of anticipation, fear, shame, and excitement.
Part of her knew Barry was right; no good could come of any possible relationship with someone like Valerie. Sam had a gnawing suspicion there might be more to fear about Valerie than Barry even suggested. What did she really know about her after only a few dates? For all Sam knew, she could be a drug addict…or a criminal…or anything. Sam knew it was foolish to open that door up again and see Valerie, but she also knew she was going to do it. No matter what anyone said.
Sam forced herself to get back to work. Working on a complicated creative project was a welcome distraction from obsessing about Valerie. She noticed her message light was flashing and realized she hadn’t checked messages since before lunch.
One was from Emily, reminding Sam Dax was going home with a friend that afternoon, and Sam or Barry needed to go by later and pick him up. Sam wrote a sticky note and put it on the top of the computer screen. The next two messages were work-related…no big deal.
Then Sam was startled by Valerie’s voice, uncharacteristically quiet and subdued, saying, “Hey, Sam. Please call me as soon as you can. Sally died yesterday. I need to talk.”
And that was all. Sam’s first impulse was to call right then, but some spark of reason stopped her. She needed to think this through first. A weird tangle of emotions overwhelmed her. She closed her office door so she could think in private. No one at work (except for Barry) knew anything about Sam’s personal struggles with sexual identity.
She called Barry’s office in the Computer Services Department; thankfully, he was at his desk. She told him about the message from Valerie and waited for his reaction.
“Damn. A shocker, huh? You need to talk about it?”
Sam jumped on the offer. “Yeah, I do. I’m not sure what to say to her…I’m not even sure about my own feelings. It’s weird.”
“So come over here for a minute. I’ll meet you on the side steps outside of my office.”
“Thanks. I’m leaving right now.”
Sitting with Barry on the concrete steps, Sam was ashamed to admit to herself and to Barry that part of her was actually glad Sally was gone and “out of the way.” Barry had already thought of that angle.
“It solves a problem for you, doesn’t it? Now you can see her freely, without cheating.”
“Yes, but that’s an awfully creepy point of view isn’t it? I don’t like to think I’m happy about someone dying.”
“No, but you can’t help but think it in the back of your mind. How does this change your plans, anyway?”
“I have absolutely no idea until I call Valerie back…which I guess I should do, huh?”
“You know how I feel. I don’t think you should have called her again the other night. But, yes, I suppose you should return the call. I’m sure the woman has got to be upset, in spite of the shitty way she treated Sally when she was alive.”
No way was Sam going to take that bait and start an argument there at work. Anyway, she was grateful Barry could still help her sort things out, even when he disagreed with her. So she gave him a quick hug, and set out toward her own office, wondering what new complications the phone call to Valerie might bring.
Sam had no idea what to expect as she sat waiting for Valerie to pick up the phone. The woman always seemed so cocky and in control. Sam couldn’t imagine Valerie being sad or needing help. But she definitely wanted to take any opportunity to show Valerie how much she, Sam, cared about her, even though they hadn’t seen each other for a while.
“This is Valerie Leach.”
Sam took a deep breath. “Valerie, this is Sam. I got your message.” More than that seemed somehow superfluous.
“Thanks for calling me, baby. This is like a fuckin’ nightmare! Sally’s kids are here, and her ex-husband. I keep goin’ around and around with her asshole daughter, arguing about what clothes to dress Sally in for the funeral…Shit!”
This tirade took Sam by surprise. Valerie didn’t even seem sad. Sam couldn’t think of any way to deal with the lack of emotion other than, “Well, what happened?”
“Well, I came home from work yesterday at lunch. Kim was with me, from work, ‘cause I just had the feeling something was wrong. I’m psychic, you know; I get it from my mother. Anyway, baby, I opened the door and crept through the house. Everything seemed kind of eerie, you know? Like death was in the air or something.”
Sam, listening to this story, couldn’t help but think the other woman sounded as if she were enjoying the telling…like it was some kind of entertaining horror story. “And then?” Sam said into the phone.
Kim called me from the spare bedroom, and there’s Sally, layin’ there dead with her eyes wide open. It was scary as hell, unbelievable.”
Sam was still struggling to shade her response to match Valerie’s tone. “Well…are you doing okay? Do you have family with you or anything?” This seemed to Sam like a reasonable question.
“I just fuckin’ told you…Sally’s kids, the grandkid, the ex-husband, and who knows who else!”
“No, no…I mean your family…someone to help you.”
“Baby girl, I don’t know what planet you’re from, but my fuckin’ family is the biggest collection of loonies, dopers, and ex-cons you’d ever hope to find
. Or rather, not to find.” And she laughed at her own lame joke.
Sam had absolutely no ready answer for this one. She decided to purposely shift the conversation. “Well, I wish I could do something to help…I could come there, if you want…” Sam’s voice trailed off into silence.
“Oh, baby, no…not now…are we still gonna meet on the twenty-second? I sure as hell hope so.”
Somehow, Sam always managed to hear only part of what this woman said—the part that referred to wanting to be with Sam. The other weird crap Valerie came out with tended to be wafted away in the breeze and forgotten.
“Of course, if you’ll be okay. I mean, if I won’t interfere with anything…”
“Well, I feel like shit right now, and it’s not gonna get any better any time soon. But I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see to take my mind off it for a night. I’ll be there.”
“Well, okay…I’ll be glad to see you, Valerie.”
“Me, too, baby girl.” And Valerie hung up the phone.
Sam remained sitting in her office chair, staring at the phone that was still in her hand. That is the strangest conversation to have with someone who just lost her partner. She never even said how Sally died…
Well, she would just wait and see what happened on the twenty-second. Maybe she should get Valerie a little Christmas gift, something to remind her of Sam when they weren’t together.
I know…I’ll get her a bracelet like mine. They still have them at Dollar Tree. I can stop by on my way home tonight. Telling herself this nonsense, Sam didn’t realize she, too, sounded a bit off.
* * * *
Three days before Christmas, Sam set off for the beach with her overnight bag, a bottle of vodka, and the present for Valerie carefully wrapped and slipped into her bag without telling Barry. He was unhappy enough about her going, but he had made Sam promise not to take a gift. “That implies some kind of continuing relationship, Sam,” Barry had said. “And you can’t afford to get further involved with the girl.”
Of course, Barry had a point. But Sam didn’t care. All she could think about was being with Valerie again. Maybe things would be better now that Valerie was free to see her. Maybe the change in circumstances (Sam refrained from thinking “Sally’s death”) would make things easier with Barry, too. I mean, he can’t fuss about me “shitting on Sally” by seeing Valerie when Sally’s dead, can he?
The drive went quickly, with Sam’s thoughts piling one on top of the other faster than she could process them. By sunset, she had arrived at the hotel, brought her stuff in, gotten ice, and fixed a drink. Now all she had to do was wait for Valerie. The one fear Sam had was that, for whatever reason, the other woman wouldn’t show up.
She did, though. Right on time, and kissing Sam hello as if this were any normal date. On the other hand, Valerie herself didn’t look well: she had lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose, and she looked tired and stressed. Sam poured Valerie a shot of vodka, which she slammed down quickly, holding out the glass for another. Sam thought Valerie looked like she had probably already had enough, and suggested they go get some dinner. Sam had left right from work and was ravenous.
“Oh, I can’t eat these days, baby girl. Too much going on. My stomach is a mess.”
“Well, okay…then let’s just sit here for a while.” Sam determined to put aside her own need to eat for Valerie’s sake. The thought briefly crossed her mind that they were both drinking on empty stomachs. Oh, well…at least she was with Valerie again. She sat on the cramped hotel loveseat close to Valerie.
During the next couple of hours, Valerie drank a lot and talked a lot, filling in some of the missing pieces of the sketchy story Sam had heard. Sally apparently had a heart attack and had been dead for about an hour when she was found. Sally’s ex wanted to take the body back to New York for burial, but for once the kids sided with Valerie, and Sally would be buried in the local cemetery after a small family service.
Sam took in this information, all the while wondering what would happen now with this tentative connection she wanted so badly yet feared so much. While she was lost in thought, Valerie took Sam’s hand and kissed it. Sam smiled and melted into her lover, claiming the kisses she had missed. Once again, Sam was mesmerized by the immediate pleasure and blind to the reality of the situation. Even though they were both exhausted and quite drunk by that time, sex was still magical for Sam, and Valerie seemed to take pleasure in touching Samantha and pleasing her. Afterward, Valerie lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. Sam snuggled up to her, her head on Valerie’s small-bosomed chest.
Valerie stroked Sam’s hair, and smiled for the first time all evening. Sam felt right then Valerie must be genuinely sad about losing Sally. It looked as though the other woman, usually so cool and confident, might even shed a tear or two. Maybe all of the earlier bravado had been just that: covering up how upset she really was.
“Hey, it’s almost Christmas, you know?” Sam said softly. “I brought you something.”
Valerie’s tentative smile widened. “Yeah? How about that.”
Sam scrambled off the bed and rummaged in her overnight bag. She returned with a brightly wrapped small box and handed it to her lover. Valerie took the package, but didn’t open it right away; instead, she turned it over and over in her hand, as if someone giving her a present was an unusual occurrence.
“Well, open it,” Sam teased. “It’s not just a box, you know!”
“Sure baby,” Valerie tore off the paper gently, folding it and putting it on the nightstand. Inside the box was an inexpensive bracelet, silver with wide black beads, just like the one Sam always wore. She knew Barry would have a fit if he knew she had ignored him and bought Valerie a present. But she failed to realize this was the first time she had ever hidden something from Barry. And it was because of Valerie.
Sam whispered, “Now you have something with you all the time, to remember someone does care about you.” Sam had no idea why this reckless and edgy woman, who she didn’t really even know, had such a hold on her mind and her heart. But Sam had to admit she did.
Chapter 16: The New Year
Sam had never been a big fan of Christmas, and this year’s celebration only served to reinforce her dislike for the glitter and hype that seemed to be an American tradition. She loved surprising people with gifts, especially Emily and Dax, but the rest of the production just got on her nerves. All four kids wanted to have a tree and some decorations, so Barry took charge of the project, and the large, rambling house ended up festooned in lights, complete with plastic Santa. It all seemed annoyingly fake to Sam, especially with such strange problems on her mind—secret problems she had to try and deal with totally on her own without disturbing the daily life of her family.
And she had, thus far, managed to keep her personal “stuff” from intruding on the kids’ lives. Barry, however, was so in tune with Sam’s moods that he knew she wasn’t doing well. They had just come back from Sam’s mother’s house, and a traditional turkey dinner, when Barry asked Sam to come sit out on the porch for a minute and relax. Ryan had gone to his girlfriend’s house, and the other three kids were in Dax’s room, playing video games.
“What’s going on with you, lady?” Barry asked, sinking into his usual corner of the porch floor.
“I don’t know,” was Sam’s answer…and she really didn’t know what to say. She was pretty much obsessively in love with Valerie but didn’t want to be at all. She wanted to be content with her gentle and supportive husband, her fabulous kids, and their life as a new family. But she wasn’t.
“Valerie wants me to come to see her after Christmas,” Sam ventured. “Do you think I can?”
“Of course, if you want to. But do you really want to? There are so many better opportunities for you to have a lady in your life, without fucking up your life. You know Michelle is crazy about you…”
Michelle was a member of the poly group who professed to be bisexual, and someone Sam enjoyed spending time with. Michelle
and her partner Charlie got together with Sam and Barry on a fairly regular basis.
“Don’t, please. I can’t handle another complication right now,” said Sam. “I have to figure out what to do about Valerie…hopefully, without driving either you or myself too crazy.”
“Don’t worry about me,” answered Barry, calm as usual. “You’re the one struggling with it. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, and I don’t trust the woman. What is that expression your mom uses? as far as I could throw her?’”
Sam had to laugh. “I know, I know. It’s just…”
They were interrupted by Dax sticking his head out the sliding door.
“Barry. Phone. It’s your brother.”
“Okay, buddy. Here I come. Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Sam knew Barry’s mom, who was over eighty, had not been doing well for the past few months. She waited quietly while Barry talked to his brother.
Finally, he hung up the phone. The look on his face said it all.
“Mom’s gone.”
Dax showed concern in an adolescent boy’s way, by patting Barry on the back. Sam touched him on the arm, and he moved in to let her hold him close.
Dax called the two girls from upstairs, “Emily, Chelsea, come down to the kitchen. We need you.”
The two girls came bounding down the stairs in high spirits, but immediately switched gears when they saw Barry’s face. Sam quietly told them what was going on.
Chelsea looked confused. “Grandma Meg died?”
Barry replied, “Yeah, Chels, Grandma Meg is gone. It was just her time to go, you know? We should be happy remembering all the good times we had with her.”
Sam had only met Barry’s mom once but had heard lots of stories about her witty personality and caring spirit. “What can we do to help?” she ventured.
“Nothing, really. I need to go to Virginia for the funeral and all. I guess I’ll be gone for New Year’s Eve…”
Chelsea spoke up, “Don’t worry about us, Dad. Ryan is staying over at a friend’s house, and I’m going to the lake with Mom.”
In All the Wrong Places Page 7
