And Sam could hardly move back. The nearest professional hockey team was hours away.
I sighed, looking up to catch Charlotte giving me a questioning look. “I was just imagining Pat making you a tiny shoebox-size doll’s house,” I lied. “I bet he would, if that was all he could afford.”
Luckily, Pat was in a position to make Charlotte an actual house. “Are you worried about having no input?” I asked. It would be something that worried me - but maybe there was just a greater need for control in my personality than in Charlotte’s.
“Not really.” She shrugged. “I have told him to ask you about things like carpets and curtains. Pat’s taste is okay, but I think he needs supervision,” she joked. “Apart from that, though, like the big things? Where the rooms are or where the bathroom is? That doesn’t bother me. Even the badly picked curtains wouldn’t bother me if I didn’t think it was a waste of money.”
Charlotte’s attitude was certainly flexible, which was for the best. If you were going to be gifted a house you’d never seen, it helped to be flexible. And she trusted Pat. And me! I would make sure to help Pat pick curtains Charlotte did like.
“It’s a lot of responsibility. For Pat, I mean.” My more practical streak made me feel that making decisions about a house together would be more my style. But Charlotte liked surprises, so Pat clearly had the right idea as far as she was concerned.
Anyway, we weren’t here to talk about Pat - or about his brother! “So, how does the dress fit?” I asked. “Do you think you’ll be able to move in it?” Kate had told me that being able to move in your wedding dress was a lot more important than you might think.
As Charlotte and I turned our attention back to what we were actually here for, I did my best to let thoughts of Sam fade from the front of my mind. Wondering what a house we’d picked together would have been like was no use to anyone. We both had houses of our own now.
And with my slow cooker, mine was even full of the smell of good food when I got back to it. That was almost as good as having somebody to come home to.
Almost.
Chapter Seven
Sam
DECEMBER 19TH, 2006
Meeting Helena was definitely in the top five - maybe even the top three! - of everything that had happened this year and I’d only met her a bit more than a month ago. I hadn’t really dated anyone before; I didn’t know if that was what we were doing. But I had never connected with anyone the way I connected with Helena.
We hadn’t known each other long before Helena offered to help me with my English homework. Studying had never been something I was good at. More something I did so I could play hockey. Yet, Helena was making it fun. Kind of, anyway. Writing essays still sucked.
“I just don’t get it,” I whined. “How am I meant to know why Lennie and George want to own a little land and how that means anything about them being free?” Frankly, I had barely managed to get through Of Mice and Men, much less get it.
Reaching out to smooth the corner of the page we were studying, Helena’s fingers passed so close to mine that I could feel the movement of the air between us. It was a habit of hers, one I’d thought might mean I was making her nervous. Now, I was pretty sure it meant she was thinking about how to explain something.
Helena was clever. But unlike some people, she never used her intelligence to make me feel stupid. “Well, we know that George wants to protect Lennie, right?” I nodded. Even though Lennie was strong, he was vulnerable and George wanted to help keep him safe. I understood that. “Do you think that would be easier if they had a place that they owned?”
“Yeah,” I drew out slowly. That made sense. If you had somewhere to go that was yours, you could feel safe there. Hopefully, be safe there. When Helena put it like that, it was understandable. I glanced over at the page she had open like it would give me any answers. It wouldn’t, not when all the letters instantly swam together and swapped around.
Shaking my head, I turned back to Helena. “So he wants to keep Lennie safe? I get that.” She nodded, making me feel pleased that I’d understood. Still, that didn’t answer the thing about freedom. “And,” I began slowly. “It would make them feel... free? Because... oh. Because they wouldn’t have to pay rent and stuff?”
Helena’s smile was a hundred percent more enchanting than any book. She looked so proud of me, like understanding John Steinbeck was the greatest achievement she could imagine. Triumph pumped through me, making me feel almost as great as if I’d just won a hockey match. But possibly not quite.
“Yeah, exactly,” she enthused. “And because they’d be working for themselves. Whatever profit they made, George would be the one to decide how to spend it, he wouldn’t have to give any of it to the person who owned the land.”
That made sense, too. “You’ve done so well, Sam.” Helena’s fingers twitched, her hand stealing over mine until she could tuck her thumb against the inside of my palm.
Her touch felt like fire, but in the best possible way. I looked down at our hands, my heart pounding in my chest. Glancing back up at Helena, it was impossible not to smile. She was so fucking pretty and close enough for
