The caller ID said PHEEBS. Should I take it? I didn’t know what I had to say to her. I didn’t really want to tell her about my concussion or the Drew saga and I certainly didn’t want to hear about how important our friendship was.
The call went to voice mail, and I saw that I had eight missed calls. All from her. The phone started vibrating again. I could just see her waiting on the other end, twisting a red curl around her finger. Ugh. What was there to talk about?
C’mon, Levy. She was your best friend just a few days ago.
Weren’t near-death experiences supposed to make you more humble and forgiving? What about clunks on the head? Before I could think about it too much, I wrapped a blanket around myself, put on my slippers, and crept toward the back of the room.
“You okay?” whispered Dad. Kathy was asleep on his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. Just getting some air,” I whispered back.
I made it outside just as she was calling a third time.
“Hey, Phoebe.”
“Sam! Wow! I didn’t think that I would get you! I just — I just was trying in case — wow. I didn’t know if you would pick up. Or if you wanted to talk or — am I interrupting you?” She was breathing so loud it felt like a tornado in my ear.
“No.”
“It’s really good to hear your voice! How are you? How’s everything?”
“Good.” Maybe I wasn’t ready to have this conversation after all. I still felt so angry.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothin’.”
“You go skiing?”
“Yup.”
“Was it cold?”
“Yup.”
“How cold?”
This was stupid.
“Listen, Phoebe. I really don’t feel like talking to you but I picked up because I thought I should, but unless you have anything to say — no, actually I don’t want to hear anything you have to say right now, so why are you calling?” My head was throbbing now and my jaw felt stiff and sore.
“I just wanted to know how you were, Sam. I mean, I don’t want to talk about this stuff until you get home. I mean, it’s over. But the point is, how are you?”
“Fine,” I said blandly.
“But, really, I know things were hard with Kathy and then you said things were weird with Drew last time, and I just wanted to know what was up.” She really was trying. I had to give her credit for that.
“Well, Kathy is still Kathy, and Drew and I broke up.”
“You did? Why? What happened?!”
“Listen, Phoebe, I don’t know if I feel comfortable talking to you about this right now. I mean, we wanted different things. He only reads magazines. He said I talked too much. He really just wanted to get down my pants.”
Then there was a few minutes of us just listening to each other breathe.
Until Phoebe said, “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said. I wanted to believe her. But I was also done. “Hey, Phoebe, I’m gonna go back inside now. It’s cold.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to get cold. But it’s good to talk to you.”
“Yeah, but I need to go. I’ll be home on Sunday.”
“Oh, no! We have to talk before then. I mean, if you want to.”
“We’ll see.”
“Okay. Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” She sounded a little teary now. But I couldn’t say it back. Not right now at least.
“Sorry, Pheebs. You’re cutting out,” I said. And then I hung up.
I drew my blanket in tighter around my shoulders and tucked my hands inside. It was cold out here, but I wasn’t ready to leave this night quite yet. The moon peeking through the clouds, its beams flooding the snow with shafts of shimmering light. It was the first time my head had felt completely calm in a while.
And then, just ahead, out beyond the first small hill, I saw something dark zip across the white expanse. I pulled myself up on my toes to get a better look. It flickered across the snow again. It looked like maybe it was an animal of some kind. Were there wolves out here? Mountain lions? I should’ve read one of those magazines they had lying around more carefully. What kind of animals roamed the hills of Vermont? Maybe I needed to go back in after all. It would be just like me to get mauled by a mountain lion. And everybody would be too busy watching the movie to hear my screams. But I stood on my tiptoes again. I was fascinated. Yes, it was definitely an animal and it was racing back and forth across the lawn now, coming toward the inn. And then behind it, coming out of the darkness, I saw a human figure jogging through the snow.
“Hey!” said Eric, coming up to the porch, panting.
“Hey.”
There was a stick in his hand and his dog was jumping up and down, trying to grab it from him.
“How you doing?”
“Good. Better. Thanks — for everything,” I said.
“Ah, please. No worries. Whatcha doing out here?”
“I don’t know. Just enjoying this night, I guess.”
“Yeah, it is great, isn’t it?” he said. “You can feel the storm coming. Can smell it in the trees.” He gestured above his head.
The dog jumped up even higher.
“Hey, I don’t think you two have formally met, have you?” asked Eric.
I shook my head no.
“Samantha, Fozzie. Fozzie, Samantha.”
It was funny hearing him say my full name.
“Pleased to meet you, Fozzie,” I said. Fozzie was still concentrating on the stick, leaping and standing on his hind legs.
“He says the pleasure is all his,” said Eric. “Here, come here, boy!” He led Fozzie up onto the porch next to where I was standing. “Now, be a gentleman,” Eric said, and he bent down to tap the wooden boards twice with the stick. Fozzie sat down and raised his right paw.
“He wants to shake your hand,” Eric said. I bent down and took Fozzie’s paw. He looked up at me with big, black, shiny eyes. His whiskers were drizzled with snow. I petted him behind the ears a little bit, and he licked my arm. Then Eric sent the stick sailing through the air.
“Go get it, boy!” he said, and Fozzie raced back into the snow, grabbed the stick, and galloped back toward us, his tail wagging furiously. He circled us up on the porch and then dropped the stick at my feet.
“I think he likes you,” said Eric.
“He’s not gonna like me once he sees how I throw,” I said, picking up the stick. My head felt wonky when I bent down, and it took me a moment to readjust my balance once I stood up. But then I pulled my arm back and hurled the stick as far as I could. Which was only about twelve feet out in front of the porch. Fozzie looked at the stick lying in the snow, then looked back up at me.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Fozzie,” I said.
“Nonsense. Go get it, Fozzie!” said Eric, and Fozzie ran out into the snow, grabbed the stick, and ran back, laying it at Eric’s feet this time.
“Oooh, harsh,” I said.
“Don’t listen to him,” said Eric. “He’s just a dog.” Then he picked up the stick and threw it out so far I couldn’t see where it landed. Fozzie bounded out again.
“Hey, really. Thank you for taking care of me today,” I said.
“Sure thing. How’s the head?”