Sammy in England (Single Wide Female Travels #4)

by Lillianna Blake

  “Do you want some company?” Max rubbed a hand along my shoulder.

  “Honestly, no. I’d really like to just change, shower, and then maybe read for a little while. I need to get my head out of this space for tonight.”

  “Okay, I’ll head out, then. I’m just a phone call away if you need me. And Sammy?”

  “Yes?” I turned to look at him.

  “Don’t let that woman get to you. Who is she to judge? It’s not like she’s leading a very happy life—well, she doesn’t appear to be very happy, anyway.”

  “Thanks, Max.” I smiled at him.

  As soon as the door shut, I tore off my clothes. I stripped down to nothing and turned the water on in the bathtub. As the water ran, I thought about what Max had said. It was a little harsh, but he was only trying to help. Maybe he was right. Maybe Poppy was miserable.

  I ran a fingertip through the warm water and closed my eyes. Over the years—especially the last few—I’d experienced so many embarrassing moments, but that meeting with Poppy was now near the top of the list.

  Sure, she was a bit mean, but I knew that I needed to be able to work with all kinds of different people in order to reach them—no matter how closed off they appeared.

  As I slid into the tub, I wondered just how closed off Poppy was. She seemed to be a fan of the book, yet everything about her was so rigid that I wondered how she could even enjoy my writing.

  I closed my eyes and tried to think of ways that Poppy and I were similar. It was a trick that I’d started using when I encountered someone that I didn’t necessarily like very much right off the bat. I always found that if I could track down similarities between the other person and myself, I could gain an understanding so much faster..

  Poppy liked things to go as planned, she liked to be in control, and she had high professional standards. Those were all things that I could identify with. Perhaps I wasn’t as rigid as Poppy, but I did still struggle with my need for control, as that need was more of an anxiety than an actual need.

  “She must be afraid to lose control.” My eyes opened and I smiled. “That’s it. She’s more anxious than she is rigid. I just need to figure out why.”

  I thought about my earliest blog entries that I’d been rereading lately and an idea began to form in my mind. Maybe it was time for Poppy to experience her own bucket list.

  Instead of avoiding Poppy, I was going to embrace her. I was going to be the best friend to her that Max had been to me for so many years. Poppy needed a chance to blossom, and I had plenty of experience when it came to stretching out petals.

  Chapter 7

  After my bath I curled up in bed with a book. Transported to another world, the muscles in my body relaxed and my mind calmed its frantic pace. There was little I enjoyed more than disappearing inside a book.

  When I heard the door open I looked up to see Max step inside. He had a paper sack in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

  “Absolutely you should come tonight. I can’t wait for you to meet Sammy. We’ll see you then.” He hung up the phone and smiled as he walked toward me.

  “We missed breakfast and it’s almost time for lunch. I hope you don’t mind that I just picked us up something.”

  “Great! I’m starving.” I joined him at the table. “Was that your friend on the phone?”

  “Yeah. Michelle’s going to join us at the book signing tonight. She’s a big fan of wine.”

  “Oh?” I smiled. “That’s good. Did I tell you that Poppy warned me not to get drunk?”

  “What a piece of work. I wish you didn’t have to work with her.”

  “Actually, the more I think about it, I’m pretty sure working with her is going to be just what I need.”

  “What do you mean? She seems awful.” Max frowned.

  “I don’t think she is. I think she’s a bundle of anxiety and fear. I know what that’s like.”

  “Maybe. So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to introduce Poppy to some of the things that helped me along my way. I figure it will be a good reminder for me too.”

  “I don’t know, Sammy.” Max rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you think that she’ll be open to it?”

  “There’s only one way to find out. If I don’t try, I won’t know.”

  “That’s a good point. It’s generous of you.”

  “One of the things I’ve learned is that if I’m bothered by something in someone else, it usually means I need to work on that issue myself. So, if Poppy’s rigid behavior is bothering me, it’s probably because I’m not as relaxed as I’d like to think. Doing this will be as much for me as it will be for her.”

  “Just remember, all of those rules and ideas are great, but some people are hard to get along with. Don’t kill yourself trying to get her approval.”

  “Max, you know me too well.”

  “I should.” He grinned. “And by the way, I hope you’re keeping that outfit.”

  “Why?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Because I like it.”

  “Maybe we should get one for you then?”

  “No.”

  “Why not, Max?” I grinned and leaned across the table to steal a fry from his plate. “I think you’d look great in it.”

  “No way.” He narrowed his eyes.

  “That’s awfully unfair of you. You want me in something skimpy like that, but you won’t wear it yourself.”

  “Trust me, what looks good on you, won’t necessarily look good on me.”

  “Maybe not, but we won’t know until you try!”

  “Not going to happen, Samantha.”

  “Uh-oh, I’m in trouble now. You’re calling me Samantha.”

  “Yes, you’re in trouble.” He stood up from the table and scowled in my direction.

  I was a little startled by his expression.

  “Max, I was just kidding. You’re not upset, are you?”

  “Maybe.” He crossed his arms and settled his gaze on me. “How are you going to make it up to me?’

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, I see. We don’t have time for that, Max.”

  “Oh no? We do. We have plenty of time. Poppy has everything scheduled perfectly, so I know for a fact that we have plenty of time.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  He raised one back at me.

  “Alright, fine. But only for a little while.”

  “Great!” He grinned and tossed off his shirt, then sprawled across the bed.

  I climbed onto the bed beside him and ran my hands along the curves of his shoulders.

  “You’re tense. What’s going on?”

  “I didn’t like the way that Poppy’s been speaking to you.”

  “It not a big deal.”

  “To me it is.”

  I frowned and decided to change the subject. “Tell me about Michelle.”

  His muscles grew tense again.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, you said you were friends for one summer as kids, but that doesn’t tell me much.”

  “I was twelve.”

  “Oh, boy—twelve.” I grinned and rubbed his shoulders a little deeper. “I bet Michelle was your first crush.”

  He was silent as I ran my hands down along his back and worked on the muscles beneath his shoulder blades. Emotional knots could be just as difficult as physical knots to release, and sometimes it took work on both to get rid of either.

  “Max? Did you fall asleep?”

  “No, I’m awake.”

  “So? Was she your first crush?”

  He turned over beneath me and looked up into my eyes. “You’re not going to get weird about it, are you?”

  “Of course not.” I smiled and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “It’s not as if I’m not aware of the thousands of women you dated before we got together.”

  “Thousands?” He furrowed an eyebrow.

  “Millions?” I smirked.

  “I think you overestimate my charm.”
<
br />   “So? Michelle?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I slid off him and he sat up.

  “I’m just curious.”

  “If you must know, Michelle was my first kiss. But I’d rather you not mention that when we get together.”

  “Aw! I can see it now. Little Max, all nervous and shy.” I kissed his cheek.

  “I was twelve, not seven.”

  “Still.” I gazed at him as I imagined the encounter. “Did she break your heart?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Oh boy, I shouldn’t be surprised. You broke hers, hm?”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. We were just kids, it was one summer, and when I went back home, things ended.”

  “Oh.” I studied him for a long moment. “So she’s the one who got away?”

  He met my eyes. “No. You’re the one who got away—until I caught you.” He laughed and tackled me back down onto the bed. “Now let me return the favor of that massage.”

  I relaxed as Max rubbed my shoulders through my shirt, but my mind traveled in time back to that summer he’d spent with Michelle. First loves were hard to get over.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for Max to see Michelle again.

  Chapter 8

  I dressed very carefully for the book signing. I didn’t want to disappoint Poppy again. But I also made sure to add splashes of color and fun items, like a scarf and big bracelets.

  When Max stepped out of the bathroom, I was surprised to see him in a suit.

  “Oh, you’re looking quite dapper.”

  “Dapper? What does that even mean?” Max flicked the lapel of his suit jacket. “I’m downright handsome.”

  “Well, that’s true.” I smiled as I looked him over. “I guess we’re both trying to make a good impression tonight.”

  “I just want to look my best for you, babe.” He kissed my cheek as he walked past me to the door. “Speaking of which, we’d better get going or we’re going to be late.”

  “There should be a car downstairs for us.” I grabbed my purse and my phone and followed him out the door.

  On the way down the front steps I noticed a couple huddled close to the railing. I smiled to myself as they both put their hands on the carving.

  “Isn’t that sweet, Max?” I smiled. “We’ll have to do that before we leave.”

  “Our relationship doesn’t need luck, sweetheart. We have everything it could need—love.”

  I met his eyes as my heart filled with warmth. “That’s for sure.”

  In the car on the way to the book signing Max gazed out the window.

  “Do you remember any of this from your summer here?”

  “Oh, London? No.” He shook his head. “I stayed with relatives on a farm. I never went anywhere near London.”

  “Seems odd to be sent all the way to London just to end up on a farm.”

  “Well, it wasn’t a pleasure trip. I’d been getting into some trouble and my mother thought a few months of hard work would straighten me out.”

  “Oops, that didn’t work.” I grinned.

  “It did a little.” He laughed. “I was still mischievous, but I did learn that I didn’t want to end up becoming a farmer. Between the manure and getting up at the crack of dawn, I couldn’t wait to get back to school and homework.”

  “I bet.” I smiled as I studied his profile. Despite the fact that Max and I had been friends for so long, it fascinated me that there were still things I didn’t know about him. Little things, like being exiled to a farm—and big things, like his first kiss. I wanted to know all of those things.

  The car pulled to a stop in front of a small building. We stepped out and made our way to a thick red door. The gold handle was a bit garish against the old wood. I grabbed the handle and tugged it open. Right away piano music filled my senses. It was a light soothing melody that was akin to a breath of fresh air.

  “Oh, Max, it’s a piano bar.” I looked at him with wide eyes. “Isn’t this fantastic?”

  “Yes, it is.” He glanced up and down the sidewalk, then at his watch. “Let’s go in.”

  As soon as I stepped through the door Poppy rushed toward me.

  “Oh yes, this is much better.” She looked over my off-white cotton dress. “It’ll stand out against the black background of the stage too.”

  “I’m going to be on stage?”

  “Oh yes, it’s the best way for everyone to be able to hear you. Now remember Samantha, please be responsible about the amount of wine you drink.”

  “Poppy, I’m not a drinker—I promise.” I looked into her eyes. “What about you? Are you going to have any wine tonight?”

  “Maybe just a glass.” She frowned and looked down at her watch. “We should get you on stage. The bartender is going to introduce the wines first, then you’ll be the next to speak. Here is your copy of the book. I’ve highlighted the passage for you. Also, I tucked in some suggested responses to questions the audience might ask.”

  “I’m sorry, you wrote down my answers for me?” I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think I should answer them myself?”

  “Certainly don’t say anything you don’t agree with, but I think that you’ll find the assortment of responses are fairly common.”

  “I’ll definitely take a look.” I gritted my teeth and reminded myself that this woman was suffering on the inside. Her need for control was really just a cry for help. I needed to stop thinking about what angered me and try to start thinking about how I could help Poppy.

  I leaned close and kissed Max goodbye before I was led up to the stage.

  Chapter 9

  As Poppy adjusted the microphone and whispered a few last-minute rules, I noticed the door to the bar open and close. A woman walked in who held my attention. I didn’t know if it was the dazzling gold dress, the perfect wavy blonde hair, or the lipstick so red that I could see it from the stage, but something told me that this woman was Michelle.

  Max confirmed it when he walked over to her with open arms. She smiled so wide when she hugged him that I could practically count her teeth if I’d been so inclined. My nerves bristled the moment I saw them embrace.

  Now, I’d seen Max hug many women. And sometimes—especially if I was feeling insecure about my looks—I did get jealous. But most of the time I was fine with it. This time I was not.

  I gripped the microphone so tight that Poppy had to tug it hard to get it free of my hand.

  “I told you that the bartender is introducing the wines first.” She huffed. “Are you sure you’re up to this, Samantha?”

  “Yes, I’ll be fine.” I couldn’t look away from Max and Michelle.

  The entire time the bartender was talking about the wine selection, my gaze remained locked to Max and Michelle. He lingered near her side, though I noticed that only their elbows touched. Other than the initial hug they’d shared, his hands hung by his sides.

  I wanted to look away.

  Remember, Sammy, you’re his wife and there’s nothing to be jealous about.

  Maybe I could have looked away if she wasn’t so beautiful. She wasn’t rail thin—she wasn’t even close to skinny. She was about my weight, give or take a few pounds.

  So, was he attracted to her? Did he look at her and wonder what his life would have been like if he’d never returned to America? My heart lurched at the thought.

  Was Michelle his path not taken?

  “Samantha?” I blinked and looked over at the man who was holding out the microphone. From the stares of the audience I assumed that the bartender had tried more than once to get my attention.

  “Thank you.” I took the microphone from him and smiled as I stepped up to the edge of the stage.

  Poppy cringed. She pointed to the podium, but I ignored the direction.

  “I think we’re all here tonight for one reason.” I looked around at the mostly female audience and smiled. “The wine!”

  Laughter followed my comment.

  I took a b
reath and willed myself to relax. This was an important moment, not just for me, but for my career. I couldn’t let a little jealousy distract me.

  “I’ve always said, the best thing to pair with a good glass of wine is a good book. On that note, I’d like to read a passage to you.”

  As I launched into the passage that Poppy had chosen, I learned a bit about her. The passage she’d selected was full of passion. It surprised me that she would feel a connection to that section of the book. I glanced up at her as I read.

  Her usually passive expression came alive with a curve of her lips, a subtle dip of her lashes, and a flush in her cheeks. I smiled to myself as I spoke the last few words.

  There was no question in my mind that Poppy had a hidden passionate side. I was going to break it out—right after I made sure that Michelle kept hers hidden.

  I narrowed my eyes as I noticed the way she reached for Max’s hand and offered him a glass of wine. She giggled when he sniffed at the glass—giggled!

  “Here! You need some wine too!” One of the members of the audience leaned up to the stage with a full glass of wine.

  The truth was, I really did need a glass of wine.

  I leaned forward to grab the glass, but in that moment Michelle leaned close to Max’s ear. I was just distracted enough to only grasp the edge of the glass. As I tried to catch it, my foot slid forward off the front of the stage. I lost my balance within an instant, but the tumble felt like an eternity.

  As I fell, the wine splashed back into my face. I anticipated the crush of the floor as my body struck it. What I felt instead was the warm flexibility of palms under my shoulders, back, and backside. It was not at all what I expected to feel. I tried to open my eyes, but the wine stung when I did.

  Aware that I was moving, I soon put together that the audience had caught me and I was being passed along from person to person. I blinked enough to clear the wine from my eyelashes and saw the stage before me. Someone beneath me gave me a solid shove and I ended up on my feet on the stage, right where I’d started.

  My off-white dress was stained in dark red wine. It made me think of a horror movie, but it wasn’t nearly as frightening as the look on Poppy’s face when I looked over at her.