He takes a step toward me. “It’s what I want to give you.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s what you want. I don’t want any of it.” I fight tears of frustration. “You want me to be someone I’m not. Little by little, you’ve been chipping away—”
“Sami,” Mom says, reaching out for my hand, “maybe it seems like too much right now—”
“I want to make all your dreams come true,” Jack says.
By screwing someone in my bed? I don’t say that. Instead, I straighten my shoulders and opt for a warning. “Jack, continue to talk and so will I. I’ll say more. Right now, I’m going with I’m the one who saw the light. I’m the one who is calling the wedding off. But I can easily change my story.”
Dad nods with his lips together. “Okay.” He smiles. “The wedding is off.” He turns to Mom. “I’ll let the boys know I’m free for golf.” He turns back to me. “Is there anything else you need to tell us?”
Turning toward him, I question what I just heard. “Aren’t you upset?”
“Not as upset as I am about Missy. I think that Ralph asshole is going to try to get rid of her next. I need to see the end of the show.”
“Paul, wait,” Mom says, stopping Dad’s retreat.
Jack reaches for my hand. Equally as quick, I shake my head and pull my hand back. At the same time, Marshal tugs me closer.
“Jean,” Marshal says, breaking the awkward tug-of-war. His tone even gets my dad’s attention. “We need to be honest with you. Sami and I…we decided—”
“What the hell?” Jack asks.
“You’re free, Jack,” I say. “Go screw whoever you’d like.” I look up at my best friend and smile. “Marshal and I have decided to see what’s beyond friendship.”
“You’re what?” His face reddens with the realization of what Marshal and I are saying. “When? How long?”
“It’s relatively new. But” —I grin Marshal’s way— “the best foundation for love is friendship.” I turn back to Jack. “And well, you and I...we were never friends. I’m not even sure I like you, Jack. I thought I could love you, but that isn’t the same.”
“Wait,” Mom asks, “you’re serious? This isn’t just last-minute jitters?”
I turn to face my mom. “I’m saying I can’t go through with the wedding. I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner, but, Mom, the wedding is off.”
Mom staggers backward until she collapses in a chair.
Dad brushes his hands together. “Well, there we go.” He turns to Jack and extends his hand. “Goodbye, Jack. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.” He turns back to us. “If that’s all settled, I’m going to finish my show. Missy needs me. That damn Ralph…” His words trail away as he shakes his head, opens the refrigerator, and grabs a beer.
Marshal grins at me and mouths, I told you.
“You two are lying,” Jack says. “Samantha isn’t interested in you” —his noses scrunches— “like that.”
Marshal scoffs. “You don’t want the details, but let me say...damn” —he turns to me— “if that was you not being interested, I can’t wait to find out how great we can be when you’re interested.”
I feel the warmth as my cheeks undoubtedly growing redder by the second. “No, that was me very interested.”
Marshal turns back to Jack. “I thought you were supposed to be some clever attorney. Tell us, was the ring on the kitchen counter not enough of a clue?”
Shaking his head, Jack looks at me. “Samantha, you’re just saying this to get back at me. Fine. I deserve it, but there’s nothing...” He motions between me and Marshal. “I’ve seen you two together. There’s nothing more than friendship. Unless you’ve been lying all along.”
“I didn’t lie, Jack. I don’t lie. Up until very recently, Marshal and I were only friends.” I smile at Marshal. “Best friends.” I look back at Jack. “That’s changed.”
“No, Samantha, I don’t believe you. Why are you doing this?”
I stand straighter. “It’s not because of what you think, but that did give me a chance to re-evaluate.”
Marshal turns toward me, his blue eyes a blend of emotions that I’m not sure I can identify. Without words he cups my cheek and kisses me, strong and possessive. My eyes close as I melt toward his chest. By the time I open my eyes, Jack is gone. Seconds later the front door slams.
“Good riddance,” Dad says over the sound of the television.
“Dad?"
“What?” he calls from the living room. “I’m talking about the show. They’re finally wising up. Ralph’s going to get what’s coming to him.”
I go to my mom and kneel before her. “Mom, I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not. I’m really not.” She squeezes my hand and looks up at Marshal. “Is this…real?”
Just then, Dad enters and slaps Marshal on the shoulder. “I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
We all turn.
“What?” I ask.
“We never liked Jack. He’s a pompous ass who always acted like he was better than everyone else. I get that he has money, but no one’s better than my little girl, and no one needs to make her anything she isn’t.” He flashes me a wink. “If you ask me, Sami girl, you’re perfect.” He turns to Marshal and offers him his hand to shake. “Marshal, son, whether you’re here as Sami’s cover or if there truly is something happening between the two of you, I don’t care. If it helped to get rid of Mr. Jackson Carmichael, well, son, the beers are on me.”
I look closely at my father’s expression. The wrinkles and age I’d been noticing seem to fade away. “Are you sure? What about the money?”
Dad shrugs. “We’ll figure it out. If we have to throw a celebration party to announce you’re a free woman, we’ll do it.”
Marshal squeezes my hand.
“Mom?” I ask.
“Paul, get me one of those beers.”
Marshal
After we each finish a beer and Paul makes sure that Missy is safe on the island for another week, I take Sami’s hand. “How about a walk around the old neighborhood?”
A grin and a nod are all she offers. Ever since her parents surprised her with their response, she’s been quieter than usual.
Outside, the sun has set, leaving the sky dark, the streetlights the only illumination. They project glowing circles lining the familiar street. “Look,” I say, “Mrs. Jefferson has a new dog.”
We both wave to her.
Mrs. Jefferson waves back, but when she squints, she shouts, “Marshal Michaels, is that you? And Samantha? What in the world?”
She pulls her puppy’s leash down the short driveway. He obviously hasn't gotten the hang of walking on a leash as he runs this way and that. She looks at our hands clasped together and straightens her neck. “Samantha Ann, I thought you were marrying the fancy lawyer guy?”