him some milk, there's a bottle in the fridge. Actually, just give him some water. Oh God. Milk or water. I don't want him to be sick, but I think he's going through a growth spurt and seems to be very hungry at the moment. Maybe you should give him some more milk now—”
“Just go,” Patricia tutted. “He will be fine. I will be fine. I'm a mother too, so stop worrying. I didn't exactly do a bad job with you, did I?”
“Debatable, really,” Chris muttered under his breath as Patricia shot him a look.
“Okay, we're going,” Sam said, swooping down to cover George with kisses. “Good-bye, monkey, Mummy loves you, be a good boy. Sleep tight.”
“Come on,” Chris murmured, looking at his watch. “We're going to be late.”
And now, sitting in the darkened cinema, Sam is acutely conscious, once again, of Dan's thigh resting gently against hers.
She had felt sick about seeing him again, had been terrified that she would turn into a sixteen-year-old girl and be unable to look him in the eye, and had walked over to greet them feeling horribly self-conscious.
Jill had given her a kiss and a warm squeeze, and she had turned to Dan expecting the same, but he had put his arms around her and given her a huge hug, and said “Hello, gorgeous” in her ear. She could have stayed there all night. He was so big, and tall, and strong, and wrapped in his arms she felt like a tiny little girl in the arms of her savior. Reluctantly she had pulled away and turned quickly to Jill, aware that she might be suspecting something, and wanting to put her mind to rest, not wanting her to know. Not yet.
“Are we late?” Sam had said with a smile, hoping that she was conveying the fact they had rushed, hence her breathlessness.
“Not at all. We were early.” Jill linked her arm through hers as she led the way into the foyer. “It's lovely to see you.”
Dan had done the popcorn run. Sam loves popcorn, but had declined, not wanting him to think she was greedy, and when Dan returned with three large tubs for Jill, Chris, and himself, he had whispered conspiratorially that she could share his, and she felt honored and special, basking in the spotlight of his attention.
She walked down the narrow corridor first, not knowing who was immediately behind her, but praying it was Dan. Please God, she had prayed. If this is meant to be, if Dan and I are destined to be together, please let him sit next to me. Please give me a sign that he feels the same way.
She squeezed past various legs to reach her seat, and felt a surge of joy when she turned to find Dan immediately behind her. Thank you, God, she had said. Now I know.
She sits pretending to be mesmerized by Tom Hanks's performance in the film, unable to think of anything except Dan's thigh brushing hers, unable to do anything other than time her forays into his popcorn bucket to coincide with his so their hands meet and they turn to one another and smile an apology into one another's eyes. Except those glances, those intimate smiles say so much more than an apology. She is almost holding her breath, waiting for him to do something, to show her how he feels. Each time she reaches for the popcorn, she expects him to gently stroke her hand, even rub a finger, and when he doesn't she knows that he is just as insecure as her.
She considers doing it to him, but knows this is too early, and even though she is absolutely sure of his attraction to her—why else would he have hugged her so warmly—she is not sure that he has thought it through in quite the same way. It's not that she has any doubt of his feelings, it's just that she suspects he isn't in precisely the same place, not yet.
It is only a matter of time.
“Wasn't that the most extraordinary film you've ever seen?” Jill is breathless, excited, cannot wait to talk about the film.
“It was an incredible piece of cinema,” Chris agrees. “So realistic, it reminded me of Titanic. The realism and the hugeness. What did you think, Sam?”
“I thought”—she rolls her eyes—“it was the most boring film I've ever seen. Maybe if it had lasted an hour and a half I would have enjoyed it more, because there were moments that really