Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,85

“I did it to spare my aunt’s feelings, not yours.”

Sam had tried to make up for it. She bought the baby a nice present—a pink-and-purple tent that folded up to almost nothing. She invited Gaby out for lunch so they could finally catch up. They laughed their way through the meal, Gaby telling Sam about a disastrous date she’d been on with a guy she met at her restaurant job; Sam telling Gaby about how she had started hanging out with a bunch of old men.

She thought now that Gaby had forgiven her, and it was a relief. Sam couldn’t bear for anyone to be mad at her, especially someone like Gaby, who wouldn’t hide her anger or pretend things were fine, the way most women did.

A student approached the buffet, groggy eyed. She poured orange juice from a pitcher Gaby had just filled into one of the short glasses that reminded Sam of summer camp. The girl held the pitcher in one hand, the glass in the other.

Sam knew the exact weight of that pitcher when it was full. She almost said something, but before she could, the girl had lost control, the pitcher twisting her wrist so that the glass overflowed.

“Dammit,” Gaby said under her breath.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl said.

She fumbled around, then grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins from the buffet and started dropping them over the mess. Each small square dissolved into the puddle.

“No, not like that,” Gaby said. “Just—leave it.”

She took a rag from her pocket and began sopping up the juice.

The girl walked off toward a table of others, her face gone red.

“Oh my God, could someone please teach these girls some common sense? I swear every last one admitted to this school is an imbecile,” Gaby said.

It was the sort of thing they might have remarked to one another a year ago in the course of working a shift together, but something in her tone seemed meaner than usual. Every last one. Sam wondered if Gaby was still mad about her missing the party. She wanted to ask, but instead pretended to laugh. Then they were laughing together, and that felt good, even if the reason for their laughter was unkind.

“So will you float my idea about talking to President Washington to Maria?” Sam said. “If she says yes, I’m sure Delmi will agree. And then Delmi can convince all her friends to get on board.”

Gaby rolled her eyes. “Maria would never agree to something like that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She’s resigned to the way things are, I guess. She’d say you don’t make demands when you know you’re replaceable,” Gaby said. “That’s just how it is.”

Sam didn’t agree. Gaby was assuming the worst, as usual.

“I can see those wheels turning in your head, Sam,” Gaby said. “Consider that Maria’s first cousin works at a dairy where his job is to inseminate cows. Compared to that, this place is paradise.”

Sam grimaced.

“Hey. I’m done tonight at seven if you want to grab a beer,” Gaby said.

“I wish I could, but I talk to Clive at seven every weeknight now. It’s like a ritual. Any later, and he’s basically a zombie the next day.”

Gaby turned prickly. “Got it.”

“I know,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”

She had seen the same expression from Isabella, from Lexi, from Shannon. None of them understood why she would sacrifice a night with friends for a phone chat with her long-distance boyfriend. Clive, meanwhile, pouted on the rare occasion when she wasn’t there to answer his call, or when he proposed a date for a visit that overlapped with exams or a weekend when Sam had other plans. It seemed like no matter what she did, someone felt neglected. Sam was expected to be two places at once, to split herself in half.

There were also Sunday dinners at Elisabeth’s, and discussion group with George, which her friends understood even less. Last year, Sam had spent so many nights and weekends alone, looking for something to do. This year, she needed more hours in the day. It seemed that life was always like that. Too much to do, or not enough, but never the perfect amount.

Other places where she ought to have been, she simply wasn’t. She hadn’t called her grandparents in weeks, even though her mother said, “They’d love to hear from you,” every time they talked.

“Tomorrow I’m off at four and I have an hour before I have to leave for the restaurant,” Gaby said.

“Ugh, I’m supposed to do

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