Page 17 of Bad Summer People
“Sam, I’ve known you my whole life, and I know you’d never force yourself on anyone.”
It felt good to hear that. Very good. “Thanks, Rachel. I appreciate the support.”
She paused. She shifted her leg closer to his. “If anything, women are always forcing themselves onyou.I know I’ve tried.” She gave him her flirtiest smile.
What was Sam supposed to do with that?
“Do you want another drink?” she asked.
“I’m good,” said Sam. “It’s barely lunchtime, and I’m already kind of toasted.”
Rachel had also had two drinks. How strong had she made them? Her face subtly shifted to annoyance.Here we go.
“You’re the biggest tease of all time,” she said. Still playful, but there was an edge to her voice that Sam didn’t entirely like.
“Oh, come on, Rachel. Let’s keep it friendly. I’ve just bared my soul to you! Isn’t that enough?” Sam tried to pat her on the back, but she moved away from him.
“You have no idea what it’s like for me out here,” she said. She was getting louder now. She must be drunk. “I’m all alone. Everyone has someone. Jen has you. Jen haseveryone!” She put her hand over her mouth as she said it. Then she got up abruptly and left the porch, heading toward her bedroom. Sam didn’t understand what was happening. What did she mean, “Jen has everyone”?
He followed her back through the hallway to find her lying on her bed, facedown, her tennis skirt flounced out around the back of her legs.
“Rachel, come on, get up. What’s going on?” She was acting like a teenager, Sam thought. Or one of his kids.
She turned over but didn’t sit up.
“Sam, I’m sorry about your work situation. And I’m sorry you told me instead of your wife. Have you thought about that at all?”
Sam sat down next to her. “You know Jen,” he said. “I don’t want her to get worked up before she absolutely has to.”
“Doyouknow Jen?” she said. She had a nasty tone now.
“Okay, that’s my wife. What are you getting at?” Sam had a bad feeling about this. His stomach started to turn.
Rachel took a deep breath. She sat up, her legs dangling off the bed. “I think that Jen might be cheating on you.”
Sam felt dizzy. “She’s not cheating on me. What are you even saying?”
“I’m almost positive,” said Rachel. She looked at the wall and kept going. “I saw her with someone. I definitely saw it.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Sam grabbed her thin wrist, pulling her toward him. He’d never touched a woman like this, and it felt strangely pleasurable. Like he could snap her arm in half. “Rachel. Who?”
There was the sound of a loud knock from outside. They both froze.
“Rachel? Rachel? Are you there?” It was Susan Steinhagen’s roaring voice. She rattled the screen door, and Sam heard it open.
“Rachel, are you here? I need your help with the mixed doubles tournament draw. Rachel? You said you’d be here at 1:30. Are you in the back?”
Sam stood quickly, but not quickly enough. Susan’s head, led by her prominent curved nose, popped into Rachel’s bedroom, took in the scene, and then quickly pulled out.
“Oh, sorry! I’ll come back tomorrow,” she said as she rushed out.
Sam heard the door bang shut. Rachel was still sitting on the bed. Her face looked white. If anyone found out that Rachel and Sam had been sitting in her bedroom together, alone in the middle of the day, Sam was fucked. Without saying anything, Sam left. He walked through Rachel’s porch, past the empty Bloody Marys (which Susan would have seen), out onto the boardwalk, and into the hot sun. He still felt a little drunk. He needed to find Jen.
10Robert Heyworth
