Page 51 of Goldilocks

“We’ll find the right match.”

“That—” Sam caught himself, apprehension swelling within him. Eric was waiting for his response calmly. And Mary had been on his case earlier today too. Just because Sam didn’t think it would work out didn’t mean he shouldn’t try again. And it would be so, so nice if a paid professional could cover a day or two. “Go for it.” He shrugged.

“Here.” Eric offered Sam an envelope. “Ivan’s waiting for me.”

Sam took it. He stared, long and hard, as he read the S-A-M on the back of it.Text and call.

“Just call,” Sam said. “I’m not on my phone often, so I usually miss texts.”

“That explains why you haven’t answered any of mine,” Eric noted. He rocked on his heels, gaze darting around the cabin. “It’s the same,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“The hull is awesome.”

A smile tugged at Sam’s lips. “Thanks.”

“I bet you could make more doing that as a side hustle than fishing.” Eric nodded toward the next pier over where the first of the pleasure sailing boats of the season were parked. “You’re in the perfect spot for it.”

“Nah, with art, I just enjoy it. It’s relaxing. A break from everything,” Sam explained. “I don’t want to add the pressure of trying to make money out of it and stop enjoying it.”

“I understand…Will you sucker punch me if I hug you?”

Sam snorted. “I’m not going to punch you, Eric. Seriously. Have I been that horrible?”

Eric pulled Sam into a tight bear hug without hesitation. Sam huffed, his sore hip twinging, but he didn’t complain. He hugged Eric back. He breathed him in, and it was familiar. Every part of it. Eric was bigger, broader; he smelled like lemon and lime body wash.

“You haven’t been horrible,” Eric said, not releasing the hug. “I expected you to make me run around a bit. I thought I was prepared for that, but I don’t think I ever prepared myself for the fact that you weren’t going to be a kid anymore.” He rubbed Sam’s back.

Sam wanted to remember him. In that moment, he wished it would all come rushing back. A light bulb would brighten, and the memories would resurface. Instead, there was a glimmer in the distance. Eric coming home from school and running straight to the bathroom to scrub himself raw. Lemon and lime soap bottle emptied by the end. Sam waiting in the hall because he knew Eric was upset by something, and he wanted to hug him and make him feel better.

An ache cut through the glimmer. Sam squeezed his eyes shut.

Sam had loved his brother, even though he couldn’t remember it.

Eric pulled back, and before he was out of Sam’s grip, he tensed. He cupped Sam’s shoulders. “You’ve gone pale again.”

“Yeah.” Sam covered his face with a hand. “I think remembering you is wrecking my head a bit.”

Eric squeezed his shoulders. “You remembered?” he asked, and the hope in his voice was unmistakable.

“Just a small bit, sorry.”

“No, please. Don’t be…Wait, remembering me is what’s giving you the headaches?”

Sam sighed and dropped his hands. “I don’t know.”

Eric’s phone buzzed. He dug it out. “It’s Ivan.” He looked conflicted, glancing between Sam and the phone. “He’s waiting for me. He’s got a full house of clients lined up first thing tomorrow.”

“Answer. I’m just going to tidy up a bit before I head home. No work tonight.”

“None of your, uh, boat stuff?”

“None.”

Sam walked Eric off the pier. He didn’t seem to react to the water at all this time, and clearly he’d pushed through whatever had been scaring him off to come to Sam on the boat. In the direction of the pub, Sam saw a bench occupied. Ivan’s form filled it, and Laurence’s smaller one was right next to him. Even from where he was, Sam saw the sketchbook open on Laurence’s lap.

They both stopped, watching the pair from a distance.