Page 49 of Goldilocks
Eric swallowed hard. “My rental is up tomorrow. We have to be out first thing in the morning, so we’re actually going to be driving home tonight.”
Sam stared blankly at Eric.
“There’s work piling up. Clients that have been waiting and” – Eric rubbed the back of his head – “honestly, I’ve been feeling off. I don’t think being here is any good for me. But,” he added quickly, “I don’t mean that I’m just going to take off like before. We’ll keep in touch. I’ll call and text.” Eric promised more, but it sounded like nothing to Sam’s ears. Sam was too busy thinking about Saturday. They’d made plans to eat, hadn’t they? Eric agreed. When he knew he was leaving before then.
Sam stared at his brother’s expression. Flicked his gaze over his body, reading the signals. Eric hadn’t been happy here for one single second.He’s never going to callortext.Sam didn’t know why his chest ached so deeply. He swallowed and tried to bury all his disappointment. It was clear from the start Eric was only…Why had he come back in the first place? Did he even say? And why was Sam so disappointed anyway? He’d done nothing but clash with Eric. Hardly the glimmer of any memories had surfaced. And with Eric gone, it probably meant the other memories would stay buried too. Sam’s unvoiced hope that Eric’s presence might change things wrenched apart. Was it his own fault? Did he take too long to warm up to Eric, and now he was leaving before Sam could even ask for help?
Eric’s promises had stopped. He was waiting for Sam’s answer.
“Alright,” Sam said, waiting until he was collected enough to speak in a calm voice. “It was nice seeing you. I’m glad you’re getting on well in the city. Landed on your feet, you know? If you’re ever in the area again, stop by.” Though if Eric skipping out in the middle of the night was any clue to his intentions, his older brother wasn’t going to be finding himself in the area ever again. He’d be busy dancing with Ivan. Responsibility-free, the way Sam had dreamed of being since he was a teenager. In those few seconds, he despised Eric for having, taking, what Sam couldn’t.
Sam could have asked a dozen questions, but the moment for honesty was long behind them now. Sam wasn’t wasting the energy on a stranger who wasn’t sticking around to become more than that. “Take it easy driving at night,” Sam added when Eric stayed awkwardly silent.
“What are you going to do out here this late?” Eric asked. He was looking at the pier, Sam’s boat in view.
“Boat stuff.”
“It’s late.”
“I’m busy during the day.”
A line formed between Eric’s brows. “Is Dad making you work at this time of night?”
Five minutes ago, Sam might have let the remark slide with a gentle rebuke, but Eric lost the right to criticise when he wasn’t even going to try. “Dad doesn’t work anymore. And he doesn’t force me to work either. Going out on the water is what pays for all of my college textbooks and the petrol to drive to class. Just because you two fought doesn’t mean he’s ever been anything but good to me.”
Silence fell between them, tense and uncomfortable. Eric’s expression was impossible to read. “I didn’t mean—”
“He’s got dementia, Eric,” Sam said, his voice as hard as the rocks waves crushed ships against. “He’s not well. And your friend dropping in, winding him up, and then turning around and acting like he’s a bad person is bullshit.”
Eric’s shoulders tensed. “I never said—”
“I know you didn’t. But it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’re thinking it.” Sam rocked back on his heels. “I don’t know why you came back. If you were looking for something or if this was just a trip down memory lane, but this whole superiority thing you’ve got going on? It’s bullshit.”
Eric’s eyes widened, but Sam was still angry. Not just at Eric. But the concept of him. People like him. People who could drop in and then leave, guilt-free and shameless.
“You’re just like every bully I’ve ever met. Like all those assholes in school or those rich idiots that come by every summer for the holidays. Looking down on Dad because he’s a fisherman. As if it’s the worst thing in the world to be. As if he’s stupid, or slow, or simple, because of his profession.” Sam met his brother’s eyes. “You’re not superior, Eric. You’re just an asshole.”
Waves lapped against the dock, and boats rocked in their gentle sway.
“Can I talk now?” Eric asked.
“Sure.” Sam turned his back on him. “Why don’t you call or text?” he called over his shoulder. “Like you promised.”
Chapter Eighteen
As Sam unlocked the cabin door, the boat rocked to the side. He saw Eric out of the corner of his eye, but Sam continued ignoring him.
“I know Dad’s not a bad person.”
Sam flicked on the lights inside and mindlessly scanned the small space for something to distract himself.
“I know he worked his whole life to support us.” Eric’s voice came closer. “And after Mom died, he had a hard time, especially with two kids giving him constant grief.”
“You gave him grief.”
“I gave him enough for the both of us.”
Sam flicked through his notebook of jotted-down coordinates – indecipherable to him – but he pretended he was reading it.