Be My Friday Night (4 page)

* * *

S
am wasn’t surprised
to find her front door unlocked.  She also wasn’t surprised to find Holly lying on the couch, wrapped tightly in a red flannel blanket.  A glass of red wine rested on the coffee table.  The final scene of
When Harry Met Sally
played on the television.  

What surprised Sam was how normal Holly looked.  The pink rings had evaporated from her eyelids.  She looked like she was taking the day off to lounge, not recovering from being left by her husband.  

Sam decided not to disturb this state.  She called out a hello and walked into the kitchen.  She began to rummage through the cabinet for a wine glass.

Holly picked up one of the two empty glasses already sitting on the coffee table.  She tipped the bottle and poured.

“I love that sound,” said Sam.  She sank into the couch next to Holly.

“Is it strange that I’m not surprised?” said Holly. Her glass met Sam’s with a
clink
.

“Well, you were with me the night I drank that entire bottle of sparkling Shiraz I borrowed from Maisey James’s wine cellar the first, and last, time I house sat for her,” said Sam before taking a sip of her wine.

“Yes, I clearly remember that night. I also remember the deal we cut with Randy to drive us into San Diego to buy her another bottle. Fun times yes, but I meant I’m not surprised Ethan left me,” said Holly.

Billy Crystal ran like a maniac across the screen toward Meg Ryan. Holly hit the pause button on the remote and left Billy frozen in time.

“Okay, I knew what you meant,” said Sam.

Sam let out a breath. She’d been waiting to say the next words out of her mouth since the eighth grade. Now the glorious moment had finally arrived. The problem was Sam felt so crummy her oldest friend felt so wretched. Her earlier conversation with Otto came to mind. The words Sam had shared earlier with him gave her the courage to finally speak her truth.

“Holly, I have to admit Ethan was never my favorite person, but I never thought he was going to cheat on you. I just figured I was going to have to put up with his conservative ideas until we were old ladies,” said Sam.

Holly almost spit out her wine.

“Wow, I had no idea you felt that way. Well, okay, maybe I had a hunch. I’d just figured your feelings toward Ethan were simply how you felt about Grover in general,” she said.

“The feelings are similar. Oh jeez, you’re not going to go back to him now, and hate me forever for telling you the truth?” said Sam.

Holly shook her head.

“There’s nothing certain in my life right now except for one thing. Ethan and I are over,” she said.

Sam put her arm around Holly’s shoulder.

“And me, I'm here,” said Sam.

Layla’s footsteps climbed the porch steps, and entering the house. Her voice boomed through the living room.

“Thank God. I say good riddance to that moron. Let’s drink,” she said, having caught the end of Holly and Sam’s conversation.

Holly poured wine into the last empty glass and held it up to Layla as the last of the triumvirate entered the living room.

"Your husband left you, the whole town knows, and we're drinking red wine?" said Layla. She looked suspiciously at her glass.

"I did try to get into your bottle of whiskey, but just the smell alone was enough for me," said Holly.

Layla nodded in understanding.

"I'll have a glass in your honor later tonight," she said.

Holly laughed.

Layla raised her glass, ready to make a toast. Her friends followed suit.

“I can’t believe what an idiot Ethan is. Wait, yes I can, he’s a man,” said Layla.

“To Holly, who is fabulous, daring, and wickedly artistic. She’s gorgeous, and doesn’t let a man ruin her fun,” said Layla.

“Here, here,” said Sam.

* * *

T
he rest
of the evening was spent grading papers and planning lessons. A large pizza box from Zelda's sat on the coffee table amongst glasses of wine and cups of tea. Someone had put music on. Dolly Parton’s silvery voice weaved throughout the house. The friends discussed the crazy events of the day.

“You do know you receive mandatory wallowing time right? Everyone will expect you to take it,” said Sam.

“My husband may have left me, but I'm not dead. I’m planning my lessons for tomorrow. I’ll feel better just going to work, doing my routine. Besides you’ll both be there,” said Holly as she sat crossed legged on the couch, still wrapped in the red blanket, hunched over making notes on her lesson plan.

Holly turned the conversation toward Sam’s day. Holly wanted every detail of the classroom chaos, stumbling into the secretary's job, and temporarily working for Otto Harrison. Holly found it all amusing and an excellent distraction from her newly collapsed marriage. Embarrassed as she was about her day, Sam was happy to oblige and indulge her heartbroken friend.

“I could see you being a lot of things Samantha. A secretary was never one of them, especially not at Grover High,” said Holly. She grinned into her cup of tea.

Sam shrugged, and took a bite of pizza. She moved from her spot on the easy chair to sit next to Holly.

“Once a Guanaco, always a Guanaco.  All I can say is I now have a newfound respect for executive assistants,” she said.

“I just can’t believe that you’re back, living here.  Could you imagine what your teenage self would say to that?” said Holly.

“I’ve definitely let her down,” said Sam.

“Well my teenage self is very glad you’re back,” said Holly.  She rested her head in Sam’s lap.

Layla, who had been working on her lesson plans as well, rose to boil more water for tea in the kitchen.

The house settled into the peaceful evening.  Outside, twilight slowly turned into darkness. Inside the low light coming from the lamp in the living room gave the room a warm glow.  

For the first time in a long time, Sam was surrounded by her best friends.  She hadn’t felt so normal, so herself, in a long time.

Her cell phone began vibrating along the coffee table.  Holly’s phone joined the clatter, twittering right behind it.  The manic objects jolted Sam out of her reverie.

“Ignore it.  It’s my mother.  I already talked to her today.  I’ll just cry more if I talk to her again,” said Holly, her head still resting on Sam’s knee.

Sam picked her phone up off the table.

“It’s my mom too.  Yeah, I have no desire to tell her about my day. I’m exhausted.  That was weird they called at the same time,” she said.

Holly snuggled more into Sam’s lap.

“They’ve become better friends since you moved away.  I think they realized they had more in common than they thought.  I bet they talked to each other, and both decided to call us,” said Holly. She let out a long deep yawn.

Sam gently replaced her lap from under Holly’s head with a pillow from the couch.

“We can deal with our mothers tomorrow,” Sam said.  She took the red blanket and put it over Holly, who was already asleep.

“
T
here you are
. You didn’t answer my call. I hate it when you do that,” Rosalind Henry said.

Sam was familiar with this tone of voice. A volcano was brewing inside. Any moment it could burst into a ranting lava flow. Her mother always insisted her rants came from a place of love for her eldest daughter. This didn’t mean Sam liked the rants any better.

She braced herself and looked up to see her mother standing on the other side of her desk.

“Sorry Mom. Between Ethan leaving Holly and the first day of work I was really tired. I was going to call you today. You didn’t need to come see me,” said Sam.

Luckily, it was a pretty quiet morning. Otto had swiftly dealt with the student sent to the principal’s office that morning, and was now in a meeting with the freshman English department to evaluate curriculum for the new school year.

It was as if her mother had planned for the hall to be empty, so she could have some quality time with her daughter. Sam wouldn’t deny the possibility Rosalind had such powers.

Sam held her breath.

Rather than go into the rant Sam expected, Rosalind stood in expectant silence, waiting for Sam to explain her predicament.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Sam said.

“Love one,” said Rosalind. She followed her daughter to the kitchenette.

Sam pulled down her owl mug and a flowered china tea cup for her mother.

“I thought you were supposed to be substitute teaching,” said Rosalind.

Sam spooned the dark coffee into the filter and filled the kettle with filtered water. She bit her lip, and before she knew it, she was explaining what had happened the day before.

Sam wasn’t sure if this was the best idea, but the words poured out of her. As she talked, she began to feel antsy at the possibility of criticism from Rosalind. Her mother had a tendency to add her opinion as if it were the word of God. Sam braced herself. Her ego already felt raw.

Rosalind took her tea black. It contrasted with her shoulder length silver white hair.

“Well it sounds like it all worked out to me,” said Rosalind.

Her hand hovered over the white packets of sugar nestled in a ceramic cup on the counter.

“Next time I visit I will bring you stevia and raw sugar,” she said.

Sam blinked.

“I can see why you gave yourself the owl mug,” Rosalind said. She lifted her china cup off the saucer and took a sip of tea.

“I—” said Sam.

Rosalind waved her off.

“You have your doctorate. You have a job. You’re being a good friend to someone in need. What more could a mother ask for?” she said.

Sam’s voice began to get raspy in her throat. She slowly let it rise to the surface and then swallowed it down again. For some reason she desperately didn't want Rosalind to know how much it meant to her.

“This is unlike you. I was sure you were going to be mad,” Sam said.

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with being a secretary. Irma is one of the smartest, wisest women I know. And, let’s face it. The longer you can’t find a job in the real world, the longer you to get to stay in Grover with me, and brew me a great cup of tea,” Rosalind said before taking another sip.

Just the thought of making such dreams for her mother come true made Sam’s lingering teenage rebellion bristle. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

Sam was going to say something to Rosalind about not getting her hopes up when Otto came down the hall.

Sam held her breath. She hadn’t edited the draft of his monthly message in the school newsletter. Instead, she was having a coffee and chatting with her mother.

Otto stopped and looked at the two women.

They must have made quite a pair, Sam thought. Rosalind with her dramatic white hair, icy blue eyes, and patrician good looks, her skin perpetually freckled from the time she’d spent in the California sun. Her sweater set paired with designer jeans and sandals showed Rosalind’s melding of her upstate New York heritage and her adopted Southern California home.

Sam had put effort into her look that morning. Something she hadn’t done in a while. It’d been fun, dressing up like a secretary. Her skin was warm and golden against the crisp white shirt she’d tucked into a professional yet sexily snug pencil skirt, and her curls were swept up into an ample bun atop her head. Sam had Rosalind’s bone structure except for her nose. When Sam smiled, it spread generously across her face, and she looked like her father, as she did now nervously smiling at Otto.

She continued to smile and looked from Otto, to her mother, who beamed at her with parental approval. Sam now realized if becoming a secretary meant she was going to be well scrubbed and was going to wear well fitted clothes, her mother would take her being a secretary over being a professor any day.

The two of them looked like they belonged in a multicultural J. Crew ad, and Rosalind was loving every minute of it. Sam desperately wished Otto would say something.

“Is there a fresh pot of coffee?” Otto said.

Sam nodded. Before she could respond verbally, Otto walked into his office and emerged with the Yosemite mug Sam had given him.

He saw Rosalind was between him and the coffee pot. He put out his hand.

“Rosalind, it’s so good to see you again. It's nice to finally talk. I’ve seen you round at town hall meetings, and at my aunt’s restaurant. It’s nice to see you’re getting a chance to check in on Sam,” said Otto.

Sam crunched her eyebrows together. She certainly didn’t like the fact Otto was so obviously on Team Rosalind, but Sam really didn’t like the way she prickled on the inside due to it. It really shouldn’t have bothered, or relieved, her as much as it did.

Rosalind graciously reciprocated the greeting. She flashed Sam a look.

Sam took a big swig of her coffee and pretended she hadn’t noticed.

“I’m going to finish working on my notes for the school board meeting tonight. It was so nice to officially meet you. Enjoy your coffee,” Otto said to Rosalind.

He shut the office door behind him to give the women some privacy. Sam wished he hadn’t, especially when she felt the elbow jab from Rosalind.

“Otto has gotten so handsome,” Rosalind said.

“He’s my boss,” Sam said in a harsh whisper.

Rosalind raised her eyebrows, her interest truly piqued.

“You’re allowed to appreciate a handsome man. I was simply pointing it out. Much better than all those frumpy intellectuals and wimpy artists you usually date,” said Rosalind.

Sam squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed her coffee. She wasn’t going to take her mother’s bait. Keeping a distance from Rosalind while in Grover had kept her sane. Sam wasn’t going to let this moment ruin it. If she lost her cool over every opinionated remark Rosalind made, Sam would be committed before she left Grover.

She was simply happy Rosalind had referred to the courting ritual in Sam’s life as dating. Rosalind usually referred to it as escapades, or affairs, and guys Sam was seeing, never boyfriends. Rosalind acted as if Sam was going through a phase and that soon she was going to start dating real men, approved by Rosalind of course, any day now.

Rosalind savored her tea and leaned comfortably into the counter. Sam was thankful for the little voice in her heart. It had told her not to put up a fight. Her mother wasn’t going anywhere, and Sam would have only become exhausted.

“I also like that he’s settled in Grover. He’s become a pillar in the community being principal of the high school, and helping out at Zelda’s. He turned down a very different life to live here,” said Rosalind.

Sam took a sip of coffee and studied her mother. Rosalind had also said no to a particular kind of life. It had been similar to the one Otto had walked away from.

“So you think it was a good choice on his part?” Sam said.

Rosalind scanned the window in front of her and Sam. She took in the hills.

“Yes. I admire people who struggle with who they are and make the decision that’s the truest for them, not what's easiest. He fit in well when he came to work here during the summers. You two always got along,” she said.

Sam nodded.

“Zelda never minded if I read at her restaurant. Otto and I used to talk about books and stuff when he worked there summers,” she said.

“Yes, I was always glad you could go there when you wanted to get out of the house. When does Zelda get back from Europe?” Rosalind said, referring to the two month vacation Zelda took every August and September from the pizzeria.

“Next week. It’s marked on Otto’s calendar. Why do you ask?” said Sam warily.

“No reason. Just will have to drop by and say hello to her when she gets back,” said Rosalind.

Sam let out a snort of disbelief. Rosalind loved stirring things up. Sam called it "subtle trouble." Her mother wanted the inside story on Otto. Sam was surprised how much it annoyed her.

Unfortunately for Sam, Rosalind was right. Her mother usually was, and it made Sam crazy. Otto was her boss, but he was also incredibly handsome, and hot, and sexy. Sam wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, but his good looks had prompted her to apply a little eyeliner that morning, something she never did in grad school.

Rosalind expertly changed the subject, and the two of them chatted about everything from Sam’s younger sisters, to Sam’s father, Walt, Grover’s town doctor, and the possibility of a mother-daughter trip into San Diego to go shopping.

* * *

R
osalind had left
after she’d taken Sam out to lunch. Sam had obliged after Otto encouraged her to go. At lunch, Rosalind pestered her about attending the school board meeting taking place that night.

“Irma always went,” said Rosalind before taking a bite of her salad.

“I’m not Irma,” Sam pointed out.

Now free of her mother, Sam sat in the chair in Otto’s office where she’d slumped in defeat two days ago. She was playing the school board, and Otto was practicing the speech he planned to give that night.

“Look grumpy,” he said.

Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the request.

“Grover’s school board isn’t so bad,” said Sam.

The board consisted of the town florist, the former chief of police, the head public librarian, and a stay at home dad.

Otto gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Yes, it’s nice they support teaching science in schools, but just you watch tonight. They run a tough bargain, and they hate to agree with each other,” he said.

Sam stopped, her pen poised in the air ready to take notes.

“Just watch?” she said.

Otto coughed. He watched Sam's face with hope in his eyes.

“Well, I was thinking you’d come to the meeting tonight. You can watch and take notes. Irma always did. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I understand. Casey always had an excuse.”

Otto looked off into the distance for a moment. His face cringed in a new understanding of what those excuses probably entailed.

Sam waved her arms back and forth trying to dispel Otto’s disturbing thoughts out of the office.

“I do not want to think about it,” she said.

Otto stared at Sam’s wild waving for a moment and then threw his head back and laughed.

Sam stopped, surprised at the reaction. Something bubbled up through her body, and she began to giggle uncontrollably.

They laughed at the ridiculousness of their thoughts, and the waving of Sam's spastic arms until tears flowed. Sam clutched her stomach and waved her hands again, this time begging Otto to stop laughing so she could eventually stop too.

The knock at the door stopped their laughter cold.

Gus Avery stood in the doorway. The math teacher looked bewildered at the sudden shift in emotions.

Wide black glasses framed Gus’s face. His soft curled Afro stood in contrast to his strong boned face.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” he said.

Otto shook his head eagerly.

"Not at all," he said.

Sam’s heart fell. She silently cursed the feeling.

“Okay, great. I wanted to run something by you Otto. Mind if I close the door?” said Gus.

Otto nodded.

“Sure, sure,” he said.

Sam stood to leave. Her heart stinging and her head spinning, all she wanted to do was get out of the office, make a cup of coffee, and type up an e-mail.

“Sam you can stay. Actually, I’d like for you to stay,” said Gus.

Sam sunk back down into her seat. She frowned up at Gus.

This better be good, her
look clearly read.

Give me a second, Gus’s
eyes pleaded back. He stood up straight in front of Sam and Otto. He took a deep breath.

“I want to apply for the assistant football coach position,” said Gus.

Otto’s look of surprise told Gus all he needed to know.

“Yes, I know I don’t come across as the football type. Let alone that I could help coach the Grover Guanacos, but hear me out,” said Gus. His voice was steady. He held up a hand, ready to list his reasons on each finger.

“I’m an amazing teacher. I teach fourteen-year-olds trigonometry. You keep giving me a job every year because a lot of kids come into my classroom with poor math skills and leave with the foundation to be successful in math all through high school and college. I don’t accomplish this because I’m good in math, even though I am. It’s because I’m a good teacher,” said Gus.