Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,115

shitty dad. Fun guy to party with, but to have a kid with? No thanks.”

Sam wondered about this sometimes. She wondered if and when Josie would ask about him, and what Gaby would say. She wondered if Gaby had ever considered having an abortion, but didn’t think it was her place to ask. Like Maria, Gaby wore a small gold cross on a chain around her neck. Sam never asked about that either.

At five to eight, she rinsed her cup and put it in the dishwasher, the first of hundreds to be washed that day.

“You’d better bring him here as soon as you get back from the airport,” Delmi said. “Otherwise, I might have to tell everyone at dinner the sad story of your invisible friend.”

Sam grinned.

“All right,” she said. “Okay.”

There were muffins cooling in tins on the countertop. Sam pulled two of them out by their paper liners, using the tips of her fingers.

“See you later,” she said.

She was waiting inside the front door of Foss-Lanford when George pulled up to take her to the airport, five minutes ahead of schedule.

“You clean up nice,” he said as she got into the passenger seat.

“Thanks.”

“Ol’ ’55” played on the car radio, one of her father’s favorite songs.

Sam handed George a muffin.

“Fresh from the oven,” she said.

“I didn’t realize dorm rooms had ovens,” he said.

“Ha ha. Courtesy of my friends in the dining hall.”

George took a bite.

“Now, that is delicious,” he said. “How are your friends doing, anyway? They’ve been on my mind. Are you still wanting to do something on their behalf?”

“Yes,” she said, but she didn’t elaborate. Sam planned to surprise George with a copy of her letter when it ran in the paper. She would include a note, telling him how much he had inspired her.

“There’s something I’d like to bring up at our next discussion group,” George said. “Don’t let me forget. I was talking to a man at church on Sunday. This poor bastard lost his job and his insurance along with it. Then his wife got diagnosed with Parkinson’s. The bills have just about sunk them.”

“That’s awful,” she said.

“In general, I think it’s better for our group to talk big picture as opposed to individual stories,” George said. “But in this case, maybe we can help.”

“Are you thinking crowdfunding?” Sam said.

“Yes,” George said. “Crowdfunding. Exactly.”

He turned toward her and nodded.

She nodded back.

“Okay. What’s crowdfunding?” he said.

Sam smiled. “There are websites where you can upload pictures, a sad story. A need of some kind. People donate.”

“Is that right? What kind of people?”

“All kinds. A girl I went to elementary school with got honored by the governor of Massachusetts at the State of the Commonwealth address because she crowdfunded so much. She had cancer, and she raised enough to pay her own medical bills and then crowdfunded for two or three other cancer patients she met while getting treatment.”

George hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “That right there is the Hollow Tree,” he said. “Government officials taking credit for someone who is a victim of their policies. That poor girl shouldn’t have had to raise that money in the first place.”

Sam had never thought of it that way. She supposed he was right.

“Sorry for the strong reaction,” George said.

“That’s okay.”

“I do like the idea. Crowdfunding. That’s a new one. Thank you for keeping me in the loop.”

“Thank you for never asking what I’m going to do after graduation,” she said.

George’s cheeks went red. He thought she was being sarcastic.

“I’m serious,” Sam added.

“Are you worried?” George asked.

“I feel like I’m behind everyone else.”

“Andrew had the same fears, and he landed on his feet. You should talk to him.”

“He did? I mean, have these fears?”

“Sure. You two have a lot in common.”

“How so?”

“Middle-class overachievers in a sea of rich kids.”

He said it like it was obvious. Like two plus two equals four.

“On Elisabeth and Andrew’s third date, know where she took him?” George said. “The ceremony for the Pulitzers. Her godfather won that year for his reporting in the New York Times. Andrew swears to this day that the guy had absolutely nothing to do with Elisabeth getting hired there, but come on.”

“Elisabeth is really talented,” Sam said.

“I don’t disagree,” he said. “But it never hurts to be born on third base.”

“Her godfather, is he related to her?” Sam said.

“No. He was her father’s roommate at prep school. Or maybe Harvard,” George said. “You’ve probably heard Elisabeth’s father is a big financial muckety-muck.