Love is the foundation for a permanent partnership.
Life has returned to normal for Sam and Ali after their tumultuous first few months in New York. If only it could stay that way. But fate has a few bumps or mountains install for our favourite coup...
As the car came to life, Sam turned his phone back on. Charlie had insisted on no interruptions during the baseball game aka bro time. Least not from women.
Sam had the sneaking suspicion his cousin had recently broken up with another of his endless stream of one-month stands and the lady in question was not taking it well. The man was excellent at picking up girls, but always the wrong ones. Most of them were attracted to Charlie because he was a star on the university's football team, because of his family's money or both.
Either way, they never lasted. Some seemed unphased by the breakup with Charlie and moved on happy with their new if probably only momentary, rise in social status. Others took his lack of attachment as a personal affront and clung on for dear life. The latter were always causing trouble of some sort, but eventually, Charlie always slipped away unscathed. Or at least appearing so.
It didn't help that Charlie looked for women in all the wrong places as if he didn't really want to find love. Maybe he didn't. Charlie's parents were not role models for the concept. Their turbulent relationship and bitter divorce had left a lasting impression on their only son.
Even if the man himself didn't believe it Sam knew Charlie was capable of and deserved love. A love like he had with Ali.
He tried to use her as an excuse to leave his phone on, worrying in case Ali might need him. Those irrational thoughts of her being hurt seeping in again. It was most likely a hangover of their call last night or rather early morning for him. Sam had never done anything like that before, essentially long-distance sex. Although it satisfied a physical need, it left him feeling vulnerable somehow. He missed Ali more than ever today.
Not that he told Charlie any of this. The mocking would have been unbearable. As a result, his argument for keeping his phone on appeared weak and was shot down easily. Charlie insisted there wasn't anything Ali couldn't handle by herself for nine innings.
In actuality, the game lasted 10 innings, due to a home team rally in the bottom of the 9th. One single home run clinched the win and the crowd that had hung around to see it was buoyant with the joy of the exciting play. There was something simple about watching men run around a diamond for a few hours. As the sun shone upon them in the stands, Sam's troubles seemed to float away on the light breeze and he found himself relaxing for the first time in days.
It didn't last long.
The powered-on cell phone dinged twice. Voicemails.
The first was from his mother, reminding him about dinner tomorrow night and wanting to know if he had managed to convince Charlie to come. The man in question nodded feverishly when he heard his name over the car's speakers.
"Is it roast beef?" he asked. "I could really do with one of Aunt Evelyn's homemade Yorkshire puddings."
Sam chuckled. "I'm not sure. But we can request it."
As Charlie rubbed his hands together in glee at the thought of his favourite meal, the second message started playing. A slow slightly muffled "Sammy..." echoed through the car's interior. Sam's stomach turned at Vicky's voice and he gripped the steering wheel.
"Well, someone's had a little too much vino already," piped up Charlie.
Charlie was younger than Sam, but he had always been like another brother, rather than just a cousin. Their friend Emily had dubbed Thomas, Sam and Charlie the 'Three Musketeers" during one of her summer visits. As such, Charlie and Vicky were acquainted. He had kept in touch with her over the years, mostly meeting in clubs or with social media. He must have recognized her voice.
Forcing himself to smile, Sam reached for the phone to end the call when Vicky spoke again. A whiny but muffled sound assaulted their ears like she was trying to speak underwater.
"I can't do it anymore... Sammy. I can't live... without you."
Charlie stared at Sam. "What's wrong with her?"
If you only knew, thought Sam. Instead of telling his cousin the truth, he simply shrugged. "She's just drunk."
As if Vicky had heard Sam's excuse, her words denied it. "So I'm ending it. I've taken... these pretty blue pills ...," Sam could hear the sound of a pill bottle shaking and then a light thud.
"I..I think they're kick..." Her sentence trailed off into the sound of her breathing into the phone. There was a jumble of words that may have been 'I love you' but Sam wasn't sure and then the call ended.
"What the..." Charlie's eyes were wide with fear. His mother had tried to commit suicide twice before finally divorcing his father. Once with pills. On the last attempt, Charlie had found her on the bathroom floor, unconscious. "I'm calling 911."
Sam reached out and pushed Charlie's phone down. "Hold on. It's probably an act. I've been... avoiding her lately and this is her cry for attention."
"I don't know, Sam. That sounded pretty...," Charlie ran his hand across his face, "real."
"Her place isn't far from here. Let's swing by and make sure she's okay." This seemed to satisfy Charlie and Sam headed out of the parking lot.
Despite the post-game traffic, ten minutes later Sam pulled up to Vicky's house. The last time he was here it was dark and snowing. Arguably the worst night of his life. He had almost lost Ali and found out he had been lied to for years.
Now in the late afternoon sun, the grey brick home with its wide white porch didn't look sinister or like a deranged woman lived in it. It looked quaint, friendly, suburban. Getting out of the car, Sam forced himself to breathe slowly and calmly trying to quell his accelerating heartbeat.
As Sam knocked on the wooden door, it creaked open before them, exposing an unlit and uninhabited living area. A shiver ran up Sam's spine. Maybe this was not a ploy. Maybe Vicky was serious. Calling her name, a part of him resisted entering the scene of the crime. Charlie pressed past a frozen Sam, making his way into the house, yelling for Vicky to answer him.
Stumbling after his cousin, Sam tried to push away the thoughts of Vicky touching him, of him letting her take advantage of his body. The pounding in his ears was back.
Somehow through the din, he heard his name being called. It was Charlie. Shaking himself free of the memories assaulting him Sam ran down the hall towards Charlie's voice. He found his cousin in Vicky's bedroom, struggling to lift a limp Vicky off her bed.
"Sam," he cried, "Call 911."
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Hello everyone. D. L. Croisette here. This chapter deals with the theme of suicide. While I use it as a story telling plot point, I want to be clear - it is a serious subject.
If you or anyone you know is having thoughts of suicide or considering harming themselves, this is a mental health crisis and you are deserving of help. Sam should not have taken Vicky's plea for help as anything but serious.
Please talk to someone! There are resources available to help you. In Canada you can call 1-833 456-4566 or go to https://www.crisisservicescanada.ca. If you know of any international resources, please comment here --->
