Sam is like me. When no one is around he turns the music up all the way and enters oblivion, letting the music soak in, marinating his flesh and his soul in melody.
We get along so well it's disgusting. He's one of those people that is very easy to talk to, so when he invites me over I know it's time to talk and I drop everything and go.
When I walked into the church this morning, I had the unfortunate timing of doing so within the first three seconds of the song that was playing, the next 37 seconds of which bring me to tears every goddamn time for the string arrangements and I had to sit down in the coat closet because I couldn't go further in.
I sat on the floor right there until he offered his hand.
Sorry, Bridget. It's an inspiring piece.
That it is. I don't even particularly like the lyrics but the intro is beyond beautiful.
What's on next? Just so I'm ready.
I'll turn it off so we can talk without yelling. He grins. Sam needs a haircut. Badly. He's starting to resemble a hobbit. Just taller. Samwise of the Shire. He pulls me up out of the closet and we walk down the hall to the kitchen. He ducks into his office to switch off the sound system. My smile is helpless. I'm never ever a fan of turning off the music but the only reason I knew what he said is because he'll tell me that's what he said when I ask him when he returns. Don't worry, we go through this every week or so.
He hurries back down the hall towards me. Want to go for a coffee?
Sure. What's up?
I have some news. With his hands jammed into his jeans pockets, rocking back on his heels, stupid grin still glued on. I think I already know. I drop my bag on the floor and wait.
I met someone.
When? Where? Who is she?
She's a...well, she's a he.
He scrubbed at the back of his head with one hand and grinned wider. He...he's a man, Bridge.
(This closet is walk-in, apparently.)
Do I, do we get to meet him?
How long what? Well, I think I knew before Elisabeth left. I wasn't very fair to her and...
No, how long have you been dating this guy?
What? I start whacking him with my hands. You've been in a relationship for almost four months and you didn't tell me?
I didn't know how you would react. And I didn't know if we were going to get along as well as we are and yeah, it's been a while now, hasn't it?
Bridget, you didn't need to deal with any more than you already have going on right now.
Wow. Let's backpedal just a little. You're my friend. Screw that, you're part of my family. If you can't share good news with us, who can you share it with?
You're the people I care about most in life. Therefore your opinions matter. Your reactions matter to me. No one else does. It's hard to face everyone.
Who else knows?
Can we have a meeting? Bout time there was some good news around my house. And when the dock is finished you can have your wedding there. It will be beautiful! We can-
Does everyone who dates someone get married in your universe?
Of course, Sam. Life is short. Celebrate love. Make it a fairy tale. Go all out. What other way is better than that?
You're the eternal romantic aren't you?
Yes. And I make no apologies for it.
Good. I hope you never do.
Does this mean I can plan your wedding?
Okay, we're not going to move THAT fast, Bridget.
Can I at least know his name?
Yeah, I think we're going to go way slower than that even.
Can I throw you two a party? Like a coming-out party? Sorry, I don't know what else to call it.
Okay. Can we just get a pinata then?
A pinata! The tissue paper animals you whack with a baseball bat and candy falls out.
Yes! I've always wanted one of those. I make a fist and bring it in to my side. Victory. When are you going to tell the boys?
I thought I might do that tonight, if you'll be with me when I tell them.
I can't think of anywhere I would rather be, Sam.
I got that same feeling tonight, watching the boys jump up and surround Sam. Hugging him, slapping his back, shaking his hands. Telling him they were happy for him. That feeling of the soaring opening notes from that song, like sometimes everything really does make sense. Like we're all heading in the directions where we are supposed to be heading. Maybe we're not all horrible, flawed and paltry human beings after all.
Maybe we are trying our very best.
Go, Sam. Go fall in love. It's about time.