Emergency Contact(64)

“No cheese on yours,” he said. “Because of the whole lactose intolerance thing your mom mentioned.” Penny smiled and stared at her sandwich. She grabbed half and squished it to see if she could negotiate it into her mouth.

“Pretty good,” she said, taking a heroic bite. Part of the gooey egg yolk slid down her chin.

Sam laughed and handed her a napkin.

“Hot sauce?” he offered. She took it.

“So,” she said. “That’s crazy about MzLolaXO.” She hated that she’d brought her up so early in their conversation. Ugh, and she really hated that she’d called her by her Insta name.

It was a self-sabotaging instinct she couldn’t resist.

Sam laughed. “Her name’s Lorraine.” He took a bite of his own sandwich.

Lorraine was so much less scarier than Lola for some reason.

“I was so relieved I didn’t pass out or have a panic attack or spontaneously combust when she showed up,” he said. “Both times she turned up.”

Penny wondered how much detail he’d go into. If they’d made out on every sofa at House, she didn’t want to hear about it.

“She sounds tough.”

Sam nodded again. “Yeah, no panic attacks the first night, but I did get wasted on the second,” he said. “Like I’d mentioned in the e-mail.”

“With her?”

“Ew, no,” he said. After a pause he added, “I don’t know why I said ‘ew.’?”

They laughed.

“I got drunk at home as a self-respecting, proper alcoholic.”

“Are you an alcoholic?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “And I haven’t decided if I’ve quit for life, like, no champagne on my wedding day or what, only that it’s bad for me right now. . . .”

Penny missed this. Talking to someone about deeply personal things. She snuck a peek and then shied away because he was chewing and she would want the privacy.

“You know, it’s funny, but I got drunk recently too. For the second time ever.” She took a sip of tea.

“Yeah? How was it?”

“Fascinating,” she said.

Sam laughed. God, she loved that laugh.

“How so?”

Penny tried not to get derailed staring into his eyes. They were deep brown but tinged at the edges with a way lighter hazel.

Penny cleared her throat.

“Well, it is a highly effective social lubricant,” she said. “Diminished inhibitions, the whole works. It makes everything so much easier. All the whirring that’s usually going on in my brain shuts the hell up.”

“But the whirring’s good,” he said. “Your whirring’s good.”

She smiled.

Sam smiled back.

She died.

“Yeah, it’s exhausting though.”

“So, it was a break?” he asked. “Like a you vacation?”

“Exactly,” she said. “Everybody needs a them vacation.”

“And you had fun?”

“I had a blast,” she said. “I made a new friend too—Andy. I guess he was an old friend. He’s in my fiction class, and booze made it so much easier to talk to him. I was enchanting.”

Sam laughed.

Penny didn’t know why she was blathering on about Andy. She wanted to reassure Sam that it was okay. That he could talk about Lorraine if he needed to. At least for a second.

“He had great advice about my story,” she said. “He’s crazy smart.”

“That’s great,” said Sam. “Wait, I gotta ask you . . .”

Penny held her breath.

“Who is your boyfriend? It’s been bothering me that I never once heard of this guy until your mom brought him up. Not that you have to tell me everything, but when I was going on and on about Lorraine, you could have said something. I hope I wasn’t so self-involved that I didn’t ask about . . .”

Sam stopped and cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” he said. He grabbed a glass of water but not before handing her one. Penny died again. “Basically, I want you to talk about whatever’s on your mind. Not all my crap.”

“Thanks,” she said, and meant it. “We broke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she continued, taking a sip.

All things considered, Penny did a good job on the sandwich. Two-thirds. She picked the rest apart and rooted out the bacon.

“Now I have to ask you something.” She had to know.

“Shoot,” he said.

“Are you sad that Lorraine’s not pregnant?” Penny tried the name out.

Sam took a deep breath.

He nodded.

So it was true. He was still in love with her. Penny’s heart sank.

“Did you want to be a dad?”

“I did,” he admitted. “I sound cracked, right?”

Penny waited for him to go on.

“I wanted direction. And I genuinely thought I could foist all my expectations and lack of motivation on this tiny blob and this baby would magically figure it out for me because now I had a reason to exist.”

He took another gulp of water. “Dumb,” he said. “Like so textbook.”