Well, here is the next installment... As usual, feedback is greatly appreciated at either [email protected] or on the NBK message board. (Sorry Anita and Gus fans...you'll have to wait until Josie goes to work the next morning to find out what happened with them...grin). The next story is well on its way to being completed and should be posted soon. Thanks again to all for their continued support of my hobby/obsession. = )
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Josie couldn't stop thinking about Sam on her way over to his apartment. Was he okay? How was he doing? She hoped that their conversation at lunch had helped him as much as he professed it did. She still felt really guilty and at fault for this whole suspension fiasco. If only she'd been able to tell him her secret at the prom, if only...
That kind of thinking was getting her nowhere, she reminded herself. She couldn't change the past. But she could concentrate on the future, the one that included Sam. She smiled in anticipation of being in his arms again and feeling his lips against hers.
She turned onto his street and found a parking spot around the back of the building. She pulled Bambi into the space and turned off the motor. Bambi jolted forward slightly in response. God, she'd be lucky if she didn't end up with whiplash by the time she got her car back, she thought wryly.
Leaving her briefcase on the passenger side seat, she grabbed her purse from the floor as well as the keys from the ignition and opened the car door. It squeaked noisily and echoed in the small parking area. Sighing, she locked and shut the door behind her and headed for the doorway to the back stairs that led to Sam's apartment.
She listened for a moment when she reached Sam's door. It was very quiet inside his apartment, almost too quiet. She was sure she had seen his car parked out front when she pulled in, though. Had he gone out for a walk or something? She tried the doorknob and found that the door was unlocked.
She opened the door and entered silently, closing it behind her with a quiet click. She took a quick look around the room and was amazed at how much he had completed while she had been gone.
Almost all the packing boxes were now empty and lying in a flat, uneven pile on the dining room floor. His furniture had been moved back into place and uncovered. Framed pictures hung on the wall where there had been none. His bookcase was now brimming with books and his knickknack shelves were filled with a couple of ceramic elephants as well as trophies of all shapes and sizes. She walked over to the shelves to examine the latter items closer.
Hockey trophies, Josie discovered; lots of hockey trophies, all with Sam's name on them. He must be really good to have won all these trophies, she thought. She envisioned the day he had told his Gordie Howe helmet story and how he had used his hockey stick, a nervous habit he sometimes had when he talked about himself in class. She had been amazed at the way he was able to bounce the hacky sack off the end of his stick several times before he let it drop to the floor. Then he had sent it flying with a flick of his wrist into the tipped-over wastebasket across the room that served as a makeshift net.
A slight movement caught the corner of her eye, breaking her train of thought. Turning, she noticed Sam's sleeping form on the couch across the room. He obviously had not heard her come in, since he looked very comfortable, as if he hadn't moved in quite a while. She smiled softly and moved closer to examine him.
She had watched him sleeping the night before, yes, but it had been dark and she hadn't been able to observe him closely. She knelt before him studying his countenance. One hand rested underneath his head; the other one was wedged between his knees as he rested in a fetal position. He looked very peaceful and sweetly boyish in his oversized hockey jersey. She could almost imagine what he must have looked like when he was a child: a mop of tousled, blond hair, and huge, serious, greenish-hazel eyes that dominated his face above a cute, crooked grin. She reached out and brushed the hair off his forehead and then kissed him softly on the lips.
Sam awoke to the brush of Josie's lips against his and her breath tickling his cheek as she exhaled. He opened his eyes and found himself staring right into hers. He never could resist those eyes of hers, he thought drowsily. Removing his hand from between his knees, he used it to pull her head closer to him for another kiss. He breathed in her soft scent and sighed sleepily against her lips, "Josie..."
They kissed for a long moment, and then Sam released his hold on Josie to roll onto his back on the couch. "Now, that's the way to wake up," he quipped, smiling at her. Then, he belatedly realized that if she were there, then that meant... "Gosh, what time is it?" He sat up suddenly, blearily peering at the watch on his wrist.
"Almost six," Josie answered for him. She moved the pillow Sam's head had been resting on and sat down beside him.
"Wow! I must have been more tired than I thought! I laid down at about 3:15 thinking I'd just catch a little catnap and still be ready when you got here. So much for that," Sam concluded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his fists.
Josie smiled softly at the little-boy gesture, reminding her how cute he had looked asleep. "That's okay, really," she assured him. "You got a lot done today," she continued, looking around the room again.
"Yeah," Sam said proudly. "Almost everything is back to normal."
"Almost," Josie returned dryly, eyeing his still-unassembled bed in the dining room to her left.
Sam's eyes followed the path hers had taken. He looked at the bed and then at Josie uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know. Okay, I admit it; I didn't want to put it together because I didn't want to give you an excuse not to invite me back over tonight..."
Sam was actually blushing. Josie thought it was incredibly endearing. "Sam, if you wanted to stay over, why didn't you just ask me?" Josie asked kindly.
He looked down at his hands and replied, "I just didn't want to give you the opportunity to say no."
"Please!" Josie gave him a nudge in the ribs with her elbow. "Like I'd say no to you. Come on!" she laughed.
Sam laughed a little too. "Okay, so I was a little paranoid..."
"Just a little..." Josie agreed, placing a reassuring hand on his knee.
Changing the subject, Sam turned on the sofa to face Josie and placed a hand over hers. Then he asked her, "So, what do you want to do for dinner?"
She said, "Well, I was thinking of going out to dinner someplace, but with our newfound notoriety, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about that."
Sam replied, "Actually, I had a place in mind, if that's all right."
"Sure. What kind of food is it?"
"Only the best Italian food in Chicago," Sam boasted.
"Sounds great!" Josie gushed. "Um, would I have to change? I got out of work late, so I came right over."
"No, you look fine," he complimented, "but I really need to shower and change before we go. Do you mind waiting a few minutes?"
"Of course not," Josie replied. "Go ahead. You may as well pack a bag, too, while you're at it..."
Sam grinned widely. "Okay. Be right back." He pushed off the couch and walked across the room to the bedroom hallway. He stopped momentarily to stoop and pick up the discarded sheet that had been draped on the couch, and then continued on to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Josie used the time alone to wander through Sam's apartment, examining his belongings, trying to gather some insight into this man that she loved. She wandered over to the wall across from the sofa where built in shelves held his TV and stereo system. Above that were hundreds of CDs. Although his taste seemed to range widely, the majority of his music could generally be characterized as "classic rock." Lots of 70's and 80's music, which made sense, considering that was the music of their age group. But he also had some newer music, some dance tunes, a few guitar instrumentals, and even the Broadway soundtrack to the opera "La Traviata." She wondered if that had been a gift from Lara, who obviously loved opera, or if it had been his own choice.
As she moved sideways, reading the titles on the multitude of music cases, her foot nudged something. Looking down, she saw an acoustic guitar leaned up against the wall near the door to Sam's bedroom. Sam played the guitar? For some reason that surprised her. But then, in a way, it didn't. He was so talented in other ways, why not this way as well?
She looked toward the right, into Sam's office; technically, it was still part of the living room. It was separated from the rest of the room by short 1/2 walls coming out perpendicular from just next to the apartment door and by the end of the sofa. Pass-through knickknack shelves topped each wall.
His office was obviously his haven, his quiet little corner of the world, she thought, smiling. A comfortable stuffed chair sat in the corner with a small table next to it and a standing lamp behind it. Josie could imagine Sam curled up in that chair, engrossed in reading a book until the wee hours of the morning.
Taking up the remainder of the wall was a huge roll top desk. It was made of oak and was obviously an antique. On the wall above it were three frames. Two of them were M. C. Escher prints: one was a series of interlocking staircases that became a trick of the eye when trying to determine which way was up, the other was of birds that gradually changed into fish. Between them was Sam's framed diploma from Yale.
Josie crossed the room to stand before the desk. She ran her palm along the smooth surface. It was worn, but well cared for. Looking up, she noticed a banker's light, the kind with the green glass shade, on the center of the top shelf of the desk. On either side of the light rested two small, framed quotations. One read, "Great literature is simply language charged with meaning to the utmost degree. - Ezra Pound"; the other said, "A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence ends. - Henry Adams"
Reading the quotes caused a pang of sorrow to throb in Josie's chest. It was obvious Sam deeply loved his work, yet here he was on the brink of losing it because of her. As tears gathered in her eyes, she walked to the kitchen to stare out the window over the sink. She willed herself to calm down, to put on a happy front for him. Hearing his bedroom door open, she quickly swiped at her eyes to make sure they were dry and turned around.
Josie felt her jaw drop, but she couldn't help it. Sam looked devastatingly sexy. He was dressed much as he had been the night she had seen him with Lara at Delloser Hall: black pleated dress pants and a black shirt with the top button left undone. She had thought him very attractive that night at the club, but her mind had been more on her mission with the 'cool' group. It was much more effective on her now that she was his preferred date. As he walked by her to place his duffel bag on the chair, she could smell his aftershave. She didn't know what kind it was, but it was wreaking havoc with her senses. She was in big trouble.
Sam turned to see Josie watching him from the kitchen. He smiled and walked over to her, unaware of the effect his presence was having. "Are you ready to go?" he asked politely.
Josie swallowed the lump in her throat and said, "Yeah, okay."
Sam nodded and turned to get his bag and grabbed Josie's purse to hand her.
Breathe, she told herself. After a couple of deep breaths, she remembered about the aftershave. Okay, don't breathe, she mentally corrected. Her heart was pounding and she felt as if she were getting lightheaded. All she wanted was to be cool, unaffected, and sophisticated on her first official date with Sam. However, she felt anything but: her face felt like it was on fire, she was very affected by him, and she certainly felt every inch the inept novice at love that she was. Oh, God, I'm never going to make it through this night without doing something horribly stupid, she thought. She reached out a trembling hand and grabbed the purse that Sam was holding out for her, and then slung the strap over her shoulder.
Sam pocketed his keys and then asked, "Whose car should we take?"
"Definitely yours," Josie replied, picturing Rob's hideous junk heap sitting in the parking lot.
Sam was a little surprised at the forcefulness of her reply. "Okay...is something wrong?"
Josie's mind was off her attraction to Sam for the moment as she remembered her poor Buick. "Other than the fact that my brother is an idiot, no."
Sam scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, not following the connection. "What?"
Josie sighed loudly. "Bambi -the yellow Pinto I've been driving-is my brother Rob's car. Mine is in the shop, thanks to him."
"Uh-oh. What did he do? Wait...you have a brother?" Sam asked.
"Yes. And I should mention that my brother Rob and "Risky Business Rob" from the prom are one and the same," Josie began.
Sam grinned and rolled his eyes heavenward. "There were two of you? God, South Glen will never be the same."
"Yeah, well, you sort of missed that part of my speech the other night," Josie replied. "After blowing my cover at the prom, I went on to blow his cover as well. He was not exactly thrilled with me, since he was supposed to play in the championship baseball game..."
"I'm beginning to think that there is a lot more to this story than just a car..." Sam joked.
"There is, but I'll skip it for now. It suffices to say that I borrowed his car for the undercover assignment, and then lent him my car to use in the meantime. My 98 Buick LeSabre is not exactly the type of car a 17 year old would drive. Anyway, Rob got this harebrained idea to 'decorate' my car. I swear he hadn't even had it for 48 hours when he did it. Do you know a place not far from the school called The Tiki Post?" Josie asked.
"Is that the mail place with the totem poles in the window?"
"Yes, that's it. Well, that's where Rob works. Anyway, my car is now emblazoned with The Tiki Post in big white letters on both sides. And if that weren't bad enough, there is also glorious 'artwork' including flower leis and hula grass trim," said Josie, chagrined.
Sam started to laugh at the picture forming in his mind. Josie's sedate, pristine sedan turned into a retro 70's kitsch-mobile complete with the dashboard hula dancer. Soon, he was laughing so hard he could hardly catch his breath and tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry..." he gasped, "...I know it's not funny...but, I can't help it."
"Oh, sure, laugh," said Josie, shoving at him playfully. "But it wouldn't be quite so funny if it were your shiny, black Jetta we were talking about..."
Sam tried to sober himself, but was failing miserably. He swiped at the tears in his eyes and sat down heavily on the sofa, dropping his bag on the floor to hold his stomach, still shaking in silent laughter.
"Anyway..." Josie stood over Sam and glowered at him, "I had to get the car repainted to cover his 'masterpiece.' It won't be ready until tomorrow afternoon, so in the meantime, I am stuck driving Rob's car. That thing is a nightmare. It's amazing that parts of the chassis don't drop off as I'm driving it."
"That bad, huh?" Sam commiserated. "Then I would definitely suggest taking my car before that thing self-destructs with you in it..." He stood up and grabbed the handles of his bag again.
He placed a hand on the small of Josie's back and steered her toward the door. Josie's awareness of Sam resurfaced with a vengeance. She swore she could feel the heat from his hand right through her suit jacket. And the smell of his aftershave was doing funny things to her insides again. She tightened her hand around the strap of her purse in an effort to control her response.
Sam opened the apartment door and ushered her through, stopping and turning to secure the lock. Josie didn't wait for him. She continued down the hallway and the front staircase to emerge on the porch. She took the opportunity alone to catch her breath and place a hand over her heart, willing it to stop racing. She closed her eyes, but quickly opened them again in shock when she realized she was imagining herself unbuttoning Sam's black shirt and sliding her hands inside to touch his bare skin. She fanned herself with her hands and prayed that she wasn't blushing.
Sam appeared behind her. "Are you hot?" he asked. "I can understand why, wearing a black suit in May. Maybe you should take off the jacket," he suggested.
Maybe I should take a cold shower, she thought ruefully. However, she obliged Sam and removed the jacket, folding it over her arm. She followed him out to the car, where he was holding the passenger side door open for her. She climbed in and turned in her seat to lay her coat across the back seat while he closed the door. He walked around the front and climbed in, put the key in the ignition and turned on the car.
Sam tried to ignore the way Josie's white, lacy top clung to her...and was failing miserably. Now he understood why those shirts were usually worn under suit jackets; they were rather form fitting. Not to mention that the blouse had a scoop neck, which showed just a hint of the swell of her breasts... Sam rolled down the window a little to let the breeze slap his face. Lord, he needed to cool off.
"So where is this place?" Josie asked, pulling Sam out of his reverie.
"Over by U of I. It's a little place you've probably never heard of," Sam replied, trying to concentrate on the drive.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, each battling their own errant thoughts. Finally, Sam broke the quiet and asked, "So is it just you and your brother?"
Grateful for the distraction, she answered, "Yes, just Rob and I; besides our parents, of course."
"And you grew up in Chicago?"
"Yes, on the north side of town. My parents still live there," Josie explained.
"So, where did you go to high school the first time around?" Sam inquired.
"Lincoln Park High."
"Okay, I know where that is," Sam replied. "So, high school wasn't a pleasant experience for you, huh?"
"Pleasant would not be a term I would use, no. Try horrific, excruciating, and humiliating. Those would be closer to the truth. Anything you may have witnessed happening to me at South Glen would not touch some of the terrible things the kids used to do to me at Lincoln," Josie explained.
"Are you sure it was really that awful? Or are you just remembering it that way?" Sam was not convinced.
"Sam, trust me, it is not an exaggeration. It was truly abominable. I mean, I had a couple of friends, but other than that, I didn't fit in anywhere with any group."
"One of the few things that the different cliques did agree on was that Josie Geller was fun to persecute. Kids used to throw stuff at my head when I walked down the hallway. I used to get shoved into the shower fully clothed after gym class at least once a month. One time a kid wrote "Josie Grossie" on the back of my shirt with mustard in the lunch line. Another time a kid poured soda into my backpack so it would look like I was peeing my pants just as I got up the nerve to talk to Billy Prince in the hallway. If I got through an entire day without a serious incident of some sort, I considered that a good day."
"My God, Josie...those kids were animals! Why did you let them do that? Why didn't you stand up for yourself?" Sam was aghast at the thought of Josie withstanding such treatment on a daily basis.
"Obviously, you were not an outcast when you were in high school. Otherwise you'd already know the answer to that question." Josie shook her head sadly and explained, "It is the lot in life for the 'uncool' to take whatever the 'cool' people decide to dish out. 'Uncool' kids don't stand up for themselves; they take the punishment day after day hoping that if they take enough, they will appear a little less 'uncool' somehow. Either that or you hope torturing you will become a little less interesting than torturing some other poor soul."
"But enough about my sorry past... What about you?" Josie asked, curious. "Where did you grow up?"
"I grew up in Elmwood Park, Wisconsin, which is a small neighborhood in Racine. Nice little place, actually. Far enough away from Chicago to be out of the big city but close enough to get here when we wanted to. My dad and I used to drive down here to take in a lot of Blackhawks games during hockey season," he explained.
"Do you have any other family besides your dad?"
"Oh yeah, my mom, two brothers, and a sister. Abby's the oldest; she's 30. Then is Josh; he's 28." Sam turned and grinned at Josie. "Actually, he's more like 28 going on 50, but that's another story..." He felt his breath catch as she smiled back at him, her eyes glowing. Looking at her was proving to be very dangerous, he decided. Sam went back to driving. "Then comes me, of course. And Russ is the youngest at 23."
He continued, "When you told me the story about your car earlier, I could just imagine Russ doing something like that. I don't know much about your brother, but if that stunt is just par for the course for him, then he and Russ would get along famously."
"Oh, God, you mean there are two of them?" Josie joked. After a moment, she continued, "Seriously though... Rob and I may be very different, but we're still pretty close."
Sam responded, "Believe it or not, the one I'm closest to by far is my sister Abby. She was really the only one who understood me when we were growing up. Josh was the stern, macho older brother, and Russ was always horsing around. I tended toward the quiet, sensitive, thoughtful type, which makes sense because I was a middle child...and small for my age besides. Abby used to protect me from being manhandled by Josh, which he tried to do often when I was little."
"As I grew older, she became my confidante, as well as my advisor for all things female. She helped me get over my first broken heart...Patsy Harris, seventh grade," Sam confided to Josie with a smile. "She helped me have the strength of conviction to become the person I wanted to be when peer pressure tried to steer me in another direction. I never really got into trouble as a teenager, and I credit that totally to her guidance."
"Her only failing, if you want to call it that, was that she is an incurable romantic. She was always trying to set me up with somebody or other. You can thank Abby for introducing me to Lara," he informed Josie.
"And here I was thinking that I was going to like your sister..." Josie joked.
Sam smiled in response. "Lara was the younger sister of Abby's college roommate's boyfriend. Long story, trust me. But when Abby found out we were both going to Yale, well, she got caught up in the romanticism of it and set up a meeting for us. As my relationship with Lara progressed, however, Abby became more and more sorry that she ever introduced us. Looking back with the 20/20 vision that comes only from hindsight, I can see why. We were a total mismatch."
"Abby's romanticism worked for her, though, as she met her true love in a Political Science class in college. Their meeting is like family folklore now, and I'm sure she'll want to tell you the story herself, so I won't spoil it. Anyway, Abby is married now and lives in San Francisco. She has a wonderful 2-year-old daughter, who I spoil unmercifully whenever I get the chance." He grinned. "But it makes it hard for us to see each other. We talk on the phone all the time, but it's not the same. I miss her a lot."
Josie could hear the sad tone in his voice at his last admission. She decided to change the subject a little to veer away from his wistful memories. "So, how did you end up playing hockey?"
"My dad enrolled me in the community hockey league when I was six. He was a big fan of the sport, although he wasn't one of those parents that forced their likes upon their kids. I really loved it, too. He knew I was self-conscious about my size and he thought that learning to play hockey would give me more confidence... and prove to me that size wasn't important; it was what you did with the gifts you had that mattered."
"After a rather rocky start, which of course, you already know about..." -referring to his Gordie Howe helmet story-"...I blossomed and became a pretty decent player. I usually played left wing, since I'm left handed. But once in a while I'd play center and more rarely, defense. I got to be pretty good at making accurate passes as well as scoring goals. I seemed to have a knack for seeing the plays develop before they would happen."
"You must have been very, very good to win all those trophies," Josie praised. "Did you play all through school?"
"Yes, until college, I played in the community league, since my school system didn't support a hockey team. And I played in college, too...although Yale is not exactly known as a 'good hockey school'," he laughed.
"Did you want to play professionally?"
"Oh, no. I never aspired to that height; and I was certainly my playing was never of that caliber. I'm no Wayne Gretzky. But I've always loved the game and I love to play it. After all," Sam grinned evilly, "it is where I learned the art of a good body check, which went far in my dealings with Josh."
Josie was interest was piqued. "You and Josh don't get along very well, then?"
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far. Things got much better as we got older, but we're only 18 months apart, so that made for some rough going at times. We are simply very different people. He tends to be rather pessimistic about life; he's very 'grounded.' I was always wrong if I liked something he didn't. He used to call my interest in literature 'sissy stuff' and he called Yale 'that pretty boy school.' Like I said, he didn't understand me much, but we still loved each other and tried to get along."
Sam seemed lost in his thoughts about he and his brother's complicated relationship. Josie didn't know what to say, so she let the conversation lapse into a comfortable silence.
After a while, Sam leaned forward and put his hand on the volume control for the stereo. "Would you mind if I turned on the stereo?" Sam asked Josie.
"No, that's fine," she responded. A little music might be just the thing to get her mind off the handsome man sitting two feet from her, his sad eyes, and the things she'd like to do to comfort him...
He twisted the knob and pushed in the tape that was sticking out from the deck. The car was suddenly filled with Billy Joel's soulful ballad "She's Got a Way." For a few moments, Sam tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel to keep time with the song, but soon he was softly singing along, "She comes to me when I'm feeling down...Inspires me, without a sound...she touches me, and I get turned around..."
Josie listened to the sweet sound of his voice as it wrapped around and blended with the song. She wondered if he even realized he was singing out loud and felt almost as if he had forgotten she were there. She watched his face as he continued his quiet duet; he felt the emotions of the words as he sang them, to him they were not simply lyrics to recite. She understood that sentiment. It was how she felt when she read a great literary work; it was as if she were living and breathing it instead of reading it. Knowing that his emotions ran so deep connected with something in her soul, and at that moment she sensed a kinship with him that she had never consciously felt before. Unfortunately, it only made her longing for him worse.
Sam slowed down the car and pulled over into a parking space on the street. Turning off the ignition, he glanced at her and said, "Well, here we are."
Josie looked past Sam out the driver's side window. Across the street was a little storefront restaurant with a backlit fluorescent sign that said "Luigi's" on it in large red script.
Josie realized that she must have looked a little skeptical, because Sam reached over and reassuringly patted her hand. "Come on, trust me; you'll like it."
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