Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,137
Sam had watched again and again was someone else entirely.
George pulled the pump from the tank and twisted the gas cap.
“I don’t want George to know I did it,” Sam said. “I don’t want anyone to know yet.”
“Why not? It was a great thing to do,” Clive said. “Most college girls have their heads so far up their own asses they’d never even stop to consider someone else’s needs.”
It sounded like something Gaby would say.
Gaby. What would she make of what Sam had done? Gaby had told her Maria wouldn’t want this. Why hadn’t she listened?
Since she was a child, she had had a recurring nightmare about driving down a winding mountain road when she didn’t know how to drive. Sometimes, the brakes went out. The way Sam felt now reminded her of that sensation. She wished she could wake up, relieved to find that none of it had actually happened. She suddenly had a terrible feeling about what she’d done.
When they got to the airport, George stayed in the car so Sam and Clive could say their goodbyes.
They hugged on the curb outside international departures. Sam stood on her toes to reach him.
Clive cupped her chin in his hand. “You’re the best girl in the world. I love you,” he said. “I’m proud of you for writing that letter.”
“Don’t be,” she said.
“I’m going to miss you like hell.”
“You too,” she said. “I hate saying goodbye.”
“I’m so glad we won’t have to do it much longer,” he said. “Soon, for the rest of my life, when I get on an airplane, you’ll be sitting beside me, not waving me off.”
Clive held on tight until a policeman walked by and told them it was time to move along.
* * *
—
That night before dinner, Sam walked into the kitchen and found it empty. Not just of people, but things. Delmi’s plants were gone, and the statue of the Virgin Mary. Even the photograph of Gaby’s baby had been taken down from the salad bar, just a speck of Scotch tape where it once hung.
Sam heard a noise from the pantry. She found Gaby, stocking cans of green beans and tomato paste.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked.
“It sucked,” Gaby said coolly.
“What happened?”
“Your friend the president was pissed. Said whoever wrote that letter made her look bad. She actually accused the staff of being behind the whole thing. She said no student could possibly have known all those details. You know what I heard Delmi say to my aunt after? She said, ‘That letter sure does sound like Gaby on a bad day.’ ”
Sam’s cheeks grew hot.
Gaby went to her purse and pulled out a piece of paper.
“What’s that?” Sam said.
“The new code of conduct all service employees have to sign.”
Gaby read aloud. “Section four: Employee satisfaction and communication. A positive and constructive relationship between the College and Staff is essential to the mission of the College. Thus, if the behavior, communication, or interaction on or off campus and/or online, of Staff Members reflects a loss of confidence in or serious disagreement with the College, Staff Members understand and agree that the College has the right to dismiss/terminate employment as determined at the College’s sole and exclusive discretion.”
Gaby met Sam’s eye: “In other words, keep your mouths shut about what goes on here, or get out.”
Sam started to reply, but Gaby went on.
“Section nine: Personal Belongings. Effective immediately, no personal belongings are to be kept in campus kitchens. Handbags, coats, and other small personal items should remain in designated storage lockers. Refuse is campus property and shall not be removed from campus other than by designated sanitation professionals. Food and beverage are property of the College and should not be taken from campus at any time, for any reason. Failure to observe these rules will be considered theft and result in immediate suspension.”
Sam stood there, mouth agape.
“You wrote it, didn’t you,” Gaby said.
It was not a question.
“What the hell, Sam? I told you those things in confidence, as a friend. Not because I was looking for you to save the day. If I wanted the goddamn college president to know, I would have told her myself. Have I ever struck you as someone who has a hard time speaking her mind?”
Sam laughed gently. But Gaby wasn’t laughing. She looked angry. Sam had never been on the receiving end of that look.
Gaby took a long, deep breath, just as Maria told her to whenever some entitled student was irritating her.