By Proxy(48)

She nodded. “Do you get a tree?”

“Pepper didn’t like the needles. So, we didn’t…”

“You lived together?” She spoke quickly and Sam could hear the surprise in her voice, and something else. Disappointment. Damn it.

Sam sighed, playing with the edge of the table. “Not technically. I kept my apartment.”

“But, you mostly lived with her.” Her voice was soft and unsure, like she was realizing something unpleasant.

He scoffed and licked his lips, uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to say. Yes, when they were together he had slept at Pepper’s place three or four nights a week. It’s just what people do when they’re together. It doesn’t mean anything. But it did mean something to Jenny, and he hated the thought that he was letting her down.

“I had a key to her place,” he admitted, looking her in the eyes, deciding that honesty was the best course of action. “Yes. I spent a lot of time there.”

Jenny looked down.

Sam didn’t know what to say, so he was quiet. Was he proud of his shallow relationship with Pepper? No. But, at a certain time and place in Sam’s life, Pepper had been what he needed. Without knowing her and letting her go, he wouldn’t have been able to figure out what he was looking for. Still, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to comfort Jenny, to reassure her, to tell her that she was twice the woman that Pepper was. He just didn’t want to apologize for his life.

Finally he reached his hand toward her, tapping the table in front of her to get her attention. When she looked up he caught the uncertainty in her glance, so he cocked his head to the side like all of the Lindstroms did and offered gently, “It’s in the past, Jen. Feels like a lifetime ago. I realized who I was with Pepper isn’t who I want to be.”

He watched with wonder as her eyes softened and her lips tilted up in a small smile. He knew he’d managed to redeem himself. He also realized that he meant what he said. He wanted to be better than the man who had settled for Pepper Pettway. A man worthy of—

“What about your family? Don’t you see them at Christmas?”

His heart thumped as he realized where his thoughts had been headed and felt relieved for the distraction her question offered. He pictured his family, thinking he’d like to spend more time with them this year, maybe.

“Sure. I head up to my Mom and Dad’s on Christmas morning, usually. Sometimes on Christmas Eve. My sisters come, and the girls. This year Colin, too, I guess. The kids make it really fun. Heidi’s a pip, begging for her presents on Christmas Eve. The ones my Mom puts under the Christmas tree from her and my Dad before Santa comes. But Colleen stays firm. She has to wait until Christmas morning. Sometimes I try to sneak her one behind Coll’s back, but Heidi cackles with laughter and I shove it back under the tree before Coll or Mom catch me… It becomes like a game.”

Jenny chuckled. “Oh, that sounds fun. Kids must make it the best.” She drew circles on the table with her finger. She whispered her next question without looking up. “Do you want kids, Sam?”

“Someday. With you.” He heard the words come out of his mouth before he could stop them, and his eyes flew open in horror.

Her head snapped up and her mouth dropped open in a shocked “O.”

He rushed to fix his error, tripping over his words. “Like you. Like how you said ‘Someday.’ When I asked if you wanted kids, you said ‘Someday,’ right? Like that. Like. Like you. Not w—”

He let his words ebb off and stared at her in bewilderment. Stop talking, Sam. You’re digging a hole to China. Put away the shovel, stop talking, just shut up.

He couldn’t tell if she was offended or amused. Her face was impossible to read one way or the other but turning pinker by the second, her blue eyes wider than Frisbees. He could not believe those words had come out of his mouth.

First the Pepper cohabitation stuff and then this? He could work a whole room in Chicago, leaving with millions of dollars for investments after a slick and witty pitch, every word like a perfectly positioned missile. Where exactly is that verbal precision now, Sammy? He knew where. Gone. Somehow stolen by the fresh-faced, blonde, blue-eyed beauty who sat across from him.

“I-I’m going to go ask Lars about, um, tomorrow’s supper.” She hopped up, leaving him alone to berate himself in blessed peace.

He stared at the table, shaking his head in disbelief and only looked up again when the waitress asked what else she could bring.

The last five minutes of my life back?

“The check. Now. Please.”





Chapter 8



With you. With you. She wasn’t about to bring it up or ask him about that slip, but she was still reeling from the words. Someday. With you.