Assuming I'm going to ask you out on a second date.
Lou
Well, are you?
Sam
I think so.
Quinn is pretty drunk, so I'm going to take him home. I'll talk to you tomorrow.
Enjoy the rest of your evening.
Lou
Drive safe.
And Sam…I'd really like it if you asked me out on a second date.
Chapter Twelve
SAM
When I got to my mom’s house yesterday, Jacob had already called her to tell her he wasn’t feeling well and that he wasn’t coming. Quinn and I drove around the block a few times to cool off before going in. I needed it more than he did. I think he’s so used to being disappointed by Joel at this point that he's learned to get over it. I, on the other hand, still hold on to the idea that my dad can change, even though deep down, I know he won’t.
I spent an hour or so talking with my mom about what went down at Dad’s and begging her not to drive over there to yell at him. That would help no one in this situation, especially Jacob. Because then my dad would just call him and tell him he's a whiny baby for running and telling our Mom. He’s way too predictable at this point, and all I could do was try to convince her to continue with dinner so we could enjoy the rest of our evening.
I wanted to text Louisa all night, but my mom kept asking if I was texting Jacob and asking if he was coming over. I didn’t want to get into the whole Louisa thing withher, especially this early on, so I just told Louisa I had to go. My mom is a hopeless romantic who is constantly confused about why her perfect boys are all still single. She seems to forget that getting married in her early 20s didn’t really work out for her and that maybe her sons don’t want to repeat her mistakes. I’ll never understand what she saw in him or how she stayed married to him for as long as she did.
The rest of the evening was uneventful. Quinn was the life of the party, as usual. He loves being the entertainment; that’s why instead of helping me with snow removal in the winter, he DJs at clubs and parties for rich people. If you looked at him, you’d see the DJ side of him, with his bleach-blonde hair and stylish clothes. What you might not see is the guy who does physical labor and loves to get dirty. He’s multifaceted, as he will gladly tell you.
Jacob never showed up. But I sent him a text to make sure he was okay.
Sam
Sorry Joel was a total dick to you tonight. If you’re up for coming over to Mom’s, Aunt Janet made her pecan pie. I know it’s your favorite.
He never responded, but I’m sure he’s turned off his phone and is ignoring everyone for the rest of the night.
It’s the morning after Thanksgiving, and I’m up early working on drywalling the master bedroom. Joel was right; these projects are taking a lot longer than they should. I’ve made good progress with the busy season over, but the snow is coming. When that happens, I’ll get busy again, and these projects will have to be put on hold.
I don’t hear my phone vibrating on the table at first overthe sound of my drill. I take off my gloves and pick it up to see that it’s a call from an unknown number. I never usually answer calls from numbers I don’t have saved in my contacts, but some delusional part of me thinks it might be Lou calling from B’s phone or something. I haven’t texted her this morning since I got up so early and didn’t want to wake her.
I think twice about it and realize how stupid that is. If she didn’t have her phone on her, she wouldn’t have my number. And why would she call instead of text? I put the phone back on the table, waiting for it to stop ringing. It does. But then, a few seconds later, it vibrates again. I pick it up and see it’s the same number as before.
Weird.
Maybe someone accidentally gave a client my personal cell number instead of my work one.
I answer and put the phone up to my ear. “Hello.”
“Hello, is this Samuel Carlyle?” It’s a woman’s voice, but not one I recognize. Definitely not Lou’s.
“That’s me.”
“Sam, my name is Officer Cindee O’Connell. You were listed as your brother’s emergency contact. I’m so sorry to tell you that Jacob was found….”
There’s a blaring, high-pitched ringing in my ears, and I don’t catch the rest of what she says, but I don’t need to. A sinking feeling takes over my body. My stomach is in knots. I can’t feel my hands. Anger builds in my core. I can’t breathe.
