Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,50

first day, Elisabeth never worried about Gil when he was in Sam’s care. She recognized this for the gift it was.

Now, at the bar, Elisabeth was drawn to Sam’s side. She needed the company of someone familiar, someone she actually liked. The thought entered her mind that her babysitter was out at a bar on a Wednesday, and was supposed to work tomorrow. But Elisabeth couldn’t exactly judge when she herself was here.

“Hey,” Elisabeth said when she reached her.

A pretty brunette next to Sam smiled up.

“Hi! I’m Isabella!” There was a pause before she added, “The roommate.”

“Of course,” Elisabeth said, though she didn’t think Sam had ever mentioned her by name.

“Have you guys been here long?”

“Long enough,” Sam said.

“Sam was in her pajamas sketching a picture of her grandmother an hour ago. We had to drag her out,” Isabella said.

“It’s for a class,” Sam said, defensive. “This senior showcase thing. I wasn’t just like sitting there, drawing my grandmother.”

“Her fiancé left on Monday night and she’s still moping,” Isabella said.

Fiancé. Sam had never called him that, had she?

“Right,” Elisabeth said. “How was his visit?”

“Great,” Sam said, sounding forlorn. “Too short.”

Sam’s roommate said, “Can I ask you a question? I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but—we only come here because our friend Shannon is a genius who skipped two grades and is only nineteen. Why would anyone over the age of twenty-one come in here by choice?”

Sam looked mortified.

Elisabeth laughed.

“I have no idea,” she said.

Sam stood then, and turned her back to Isabella and the other girls so that she was only talking to Elisabeth.

“Sorry about my roommate, she’s a little drunk,” she said.

Sam eyed the Laurels, laughing uproariously, guzzling white wine at the bar.

“I’ve never seen anyone here order anything but beer,” she said. “I didn’t even know they served wine.”

“It’s entirely possible those women travel with Chardonnay in their purses,” Elisabeth said. “They’re my—friends. Book club? Neighbors. I sort of got dragged here against my will.”

“Me too,” Sam said.

“Actually, I think I’m going to head home,” Elisabeth said. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “It was good to see you.”

Elisabeth paused, then said, “Want to walk back with me? It’s nice out.”

“Sure,” Sam said. “I’d love to.”

“I don’t want to take you away from your friends if you’re not ready.”

“I’m ready.”

Elisabeth said a quick goodbye to the Laurels.

“That’s my babysitter,” she whispered. “She’s really drunk. I think I need to get her home.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet,” Stephanie said. “Come back when you’re done, okay?”

“I will,” Elisabeth lied.

Walking out to the sidewalk, she felt like herself for the first time all night.

“Confession,” she said. “I just used you as my excuse for leaving. I owe you one.”

Sam smiled.

“Andrew’s home with the baby?” she asked.

“Yup. His first time alone,” Elisabeth said. “Well, actually, he wasn’t alone. My mother-in-law came over.”

“It must be nice having family nearby to help.”

“Yeah,” Elisabeth said. “To be honest, she’s not very helpful, though. If anything, we moved here to help them, though we’re supposed to act like it’s the reverse. My father-in-law lost his business a couple years ago, and since then, things haven’t been right with him. He’s the greatest guy, but something’s off. Something other than the fact that they are basically penniless now. He’s mad at the world. He wants us all to change our lives and rebel against the system.”

“Oh,” Sam said, and looked confused.

For all that they had chatted in the last month, they rarely spoke about themselves or their families. They talked about Sam’s schoolwork and the news and celebrities, and the baby. Safe subjects.

Now wasn’t the time to get into George and the Hollow Tree; the fact that Faye was secretly shopping at Costco to avoid a lecture or that George had recently written half a dozen angry letters after seeing a guy on the evening news whose three Saint Bernards died from eating dog food contaminated with salmonella.

“Millions of cans were recalled,” George shouted, getting worked up. “Imagine if that was Duke. The tenth recall of its kind in six months, and no one’s gonna do anything. Corporate greed wins again.”

Corporate greed was his favorite catch-all term. He wrote Elisabeth a long email about it, including a link to a story about developers who were buying up farmland in the area and building cheap houses no one wanted.

Elisabeth always felt guilty by association when George mentioned corporate greed. Andrew had spent close to twenty years working in corporate America. And though she rarely