Hallow Springs

Twenty-one

As I entered his office, I found myself in a small waiting room. The walls were painted in a modern gray and crown molding ran the lengths of the ceiling. A row of seats bent into a U-shape where side tables held Forbes and Fortune magazines. There was no one waiting but there was someone behind the front desk.

"Hi, I'm here to see Sam Parker." I leaned up against it. The receptionist pulled her cell phone from her attention and looked up at me. She had a thick strip of eyeliner, framing her dark blue eyes – the deep blue that only came with colored contact lens. She brushed her French manicured fingernails through her blonde hair and fastened her resting bitch face on me. She was naturally pretty, her lips curled inward as if always biting them, her brows were plucked into two thin arches that were much darker than the blonde hair on her hear. She highlighted her hair but she would have been much prettier if she hadn't dolled herself up too much. I couldn't help but to stir. Here was some young blonde skank working with Sam. Had she tried to make a move on him? Judging by her lacy push-up peeking out of her blouse she most certainly had.

Sam could do whatever he wanted. We were divorced after all, I just wish that he would have better taste than this. I faced my first emotion in his office – resentment. He was building a life he couldn't have with me and he started with a blonde bimbo at the door.

"May I have your name?" She was polite and good at her job. Damnit.

"Amanda..."

"Amanda?" a voice came from down the hall. There he was, smiling my way and approaching quick.

"Hey Sam..." he hugged me politely. He pulled me away and caught my eyes with that same glint as always. "You look great."

"Thanks..." I glanced back at the blonde and saw that she was already back to her Instagram feed. She didn't care nearly as much as I. So what the hell does that tell me about me?

I tried to reposition the conversation onto business, cutting through the tension that had built between us over the years.

"I don't have much time..." I wasn't sure how to act in his presence. So, I defaulted to what I do best – turn to business.

"Sure! Sure!" He ushered me down the hall to his office. He opened the door to the office and held it open for me, reminding me that chivalry wasn't dead, it was just hiding in Hallow Springs. Sam's office opened up before me. It was impressive to say the least. His walls were covered in oil prints and sports memorabilia. He had a Mario Lemieux signed jersey framed and a piece of a broken hockey stick mounted on the wall. I could smell the mahogany immediately and followed his direction to sit on his black leather sofa in front of a small coffee table.

"Take a seat! Do you want anything to drink?"

"How about a bourbon?" I joked to which he laughed.

"No more alcohol for me... two years sober," he responded in earnest.

"Really?" Sam had some drinking problems after Suzie's death. It fueled some of our fights and became his only escape. He wasn't an angry drunk, but a lazy one. The strong, confident man I fell in love with that I needed more than ever was nowhere to be found. When he was at the bottom of a bottle he was just a pathetic excuse of a man. The worst part was that he knew it and so he began to feel sorry for himself, which is even more pathetic. But here stood the original version of Sam Parker. The one that was living life not running from it.

"Yeah, AA got me sober and my therapist has been a huge help."

"Therapist?" I was taken aback by how freely he admitted it.

"Sure! You don't have one?" he asked, assuming the answer already.

"Yeah... I have one."

"Has he helped?"