Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,131

should do, for a year or two. It’d be brilliant.”

He kissed her and fell back to sleep.

Sam felt guilty. There was no space for him in the stories they had plotted tonight. She told herself that she and Maddie were only talking, having fun imagining what might have been had Clive not come along.

* * *

—

On Sunday, the Orthodox family in the apartment next door sat Shiva. A stream of mourners arrived. Their children spilled out into the hall, chasing one another, shouting like it was any other family party. Every so often, the children accidentally ran into Maddie’s apartment. One little boy went straight to the bathroom, peed with the door open, and left without taking note of his surroundings. They could have turned the lock, but they found the situation too amusing.

Sam had made a list of places to take Clive, but they ended up spending most of their time at home, talking with Maddie and her roommates. Maddie made a frittata for breakfast and a big salad with walnuts and dried cranberries and goat cheese for lunch. Clive made salmon with fingerling potatoes for dinner. It felt so adult, a world away from dorm life.

After dinner, Sam and Clive sat on the sofa in the sunken living room. She pretended they were married, that the apartment was theirs. She could almost picture it.

Maddie and Clive developed an easy rapport that he had never managed with any of Sam’s other friends. There was some special quality to the three of them together—Sam liked Clive better, liked their relationship more, when Maddie was around.

At some point on Sunday evening, the topic of Maddie’s roommates leaving in a few months came up, and Clive said, “As luck would have it, Sam and I are thinking of moving here.”

She was surprised he even remembered. He’d been half asleep when they discussed it.

Maddie looked confused, and Sam bumbled, “We were just talking, that’s all.”

Clive spent the whole weekend sniffling and coughing.

Allergies, he said.

“Sorry, it’s probably the cat,” Maddie said.

“It’s okay,” Clive said.

“It’s not the cat! He was like this in the car on the way here!” Sam said.

She felt tense, like Clive had laid the blame on her friend, even though he hadn’t been the one to bring up the cat.

“It’s probably because you spend all day and night walking around London and it’s freezing outside and now you’re getting sick,” she said, and then immediately felt bad.

“I never get sick,” Clive said. “It’s a fact.”

On Monday, Maddie had a full day of classes. Sam and Clive went out for breakfast.

Their conversation was stilted. She felt like they were grasping for things to talk about. He didn’t want to leave the waitress a tip, and Sam explained that such things were not optional in this country, at least not for decent people. Clive was cheap.

The other night, she had said as much to Maddie, who replied, “I think he’s just poor.”

Sam recoiled from that remark, but then said, “I think he’s both.”

After the awkward breakfast, they found a park by Maddie’s place, where they made out on a rock on the far side of a little pond. They were surrounded by turtles, unbothered, unmoving, soaking up what they could of the weak winter sun.

* * *

—

Nobody talked much on the drive home.

“Please don’t make me go back,” Elisabeth said.

She sounded like they were taking her to prison.

Sam still sensed that things between Elisabeth and Andrew were fraught, even as Elisabeth described all the exciting activities they had done in the last forty-eight hours. How could they possibly have had a bad time staying in that hotel room, ordering as much room service as they wanted, going to Broadway shows and spa dates and dinners in fancy restaurants.

Sam wished she could unknow what George had told her.

At some point, Elisabeth said, “These friends we met up with on Saturday were telling us they just bought an eight-hundred-square-foot apartment for over a million dollars. They’re using it as an office, not to live in. People in the city have too much money, I swear.”

Clive nudged Sam and rolled his eyes.

So many people pretended at wealth they didn’t have. Sam wondered why Elisabeth went to such lengths to seem average. She felt like she didn’t really know her at all.

But an hour into the drive, Gil let out a squeal, and Elisabeth turned toward the back seat to look at him. Sam’s eyes met hers and they exchanged a smile that felt so