Page 32 of Backward Motion

Brian shrugged. “Anyway, I’m sure when you texted to ask if we could hang, you weren’t expecting the full daddy experience.”

“It’s all good. I’m honored to be part of your entourage.”

Sam had felt bad after ignoring Brian’s message about trivia, and then life had gotten busy, and they were well overdue for their proposed catch-up. Even after spending the better part of his life in Oakdale, there were so few people in town he would count as friends, and Brian had been generous enough to include Sam in his circle and make him feel welcome.

“What’s new with you?” Brian asked. “I may have been hallucinating, but I could’ve sworn I saw your sister at Jim’s the other night, buying Fiji water.”

His sister’s impromptu visit had ended as abruptly as it had begun. She’d feigned a work commitment and left the following day. Her excuse had barely registered with Sam, who’d come home from Connor’s that evening in a daze and escaped to his room at the first opportunity, pleading exhaustion. Georgia’s sudden exit came as no surprise. She liked to be the center of attention, and Sam had stopped playing the role of adoring brother years ago.

“Yeah, she was only in town for like a day.”

“That’s weird.”

Sam made a face. “She’s weird.” He reached down to tickle Ellie’s palm, and she latched onto his finger with her tiny hand.

“How’s the job? I’ve always wondered what Finnis is like to work with.” Brian leaned forward with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. “I bet he’s bossy. The whole chill demeanor is just an act.”

Sam was immediately set upon by thoughts of Connor’s soft lips, the smell of him—fresh and earthy—and the way he kept his eyes open when he kissed Sam as though not wanting to miss a second. Sam had to use every ounce of his self-control not to blush. “He’s been great, actually. Really patient, especially with the technical stuff.”

Patientwas an understatement. After the night at Connor’s apartment, he and Connor hadn’t quite landed on how to navigate the sudden change in their relationship. It was Sam’s fault; he kept tripping himself up, running hot and cold. One minute, they’d be discussing rescheduling a job, and the next, Sam would have Connor pressed against the desk. Not that Sam didn’t want to be with Connor, but he hadn’t expected to be back here so soon. What had once been familiar territory now seemed pitted with obstacles, and Sam had a bad habit of falling headfirst. Just look where that had left him. He was trying to relearn how to do better for himself.

“Interesting,” Brian observed. “That guy’s a real stumper.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. Like, he’s a bunch of different people at the same time.”

Sam stilled. He thought of the longing behind Connor’s question when he’d walked Sam home after the football game: “What’s life like for us out there?” He couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Connor to have to hide in plain sight.

“It’s been a real eye-opener,” Sam said, feeling the need to change the subject. “Seeing him in action. The trades don’t get nearly enough credit.”

“Tell me about it. Our bathroom sprang a leak, and the plumberI called had this laser-detection device that looked straight out of aMission Impossiblemovie. He was crazy smart—Matty!” Brian called out to his son, who’d followed the duck down to the edge of the small pond and was leaning in precariously. “Back here, buddy. We’re not going for a swim today.”

“I’ll grab him.” Sam got up and guided the little boy back to the picnic blanket, where he appeared to change his mind about the carrots and began cramming them into his mouth.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Brian said and leaned over to adjust Ellie’s knitted hat.

“I mean, it’s not like I planned on answering phones for a living,” Sam scoffed, suddenly self-conscious. He recalled the incredulous look on his sister’s face and the spike of embarrassment he’d felt. “I had something bigger in mind.”

Brian gave a shrug. “I didn’t plan on changing diapers for a living. Bigger, better, whatever.” Matty got up and began collecting handfuls of fallen orange leaves and crunching them to smithereens under his shoes. “Can I ask, are you still writing?”

Sam looked at Brian quizzically.

“Screenplays and stuff,” Brian said.

Sam let out a short laugh. “No, I don’t do that anymore.”

“Pity. I’ve been working on a graphic novel for a few years now. It’s nice to have a little project ticking along in the background, even if the rest of my life doesn’t look like how I imagined. It’s my way of keeping the dream alive.”

Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d been inspired to do something just for himself.

“I was hunting around in the attic the other day and came across this...” Brian reached into the diaper bag by his feet and pulled out a ratty pile of stapled pages. “Thought it might make for a fun trip down memory lane.”

Sam took the pile from Brian with a wry smile. “I can’t believe you still have this.” He flicked through their old screenplay, which Sam had typed up on his family’s PC and printed during multiple trips to his dad’s office. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s actually pretty mint. We had some out-there ideas for a bunch of kids. Anyway, working on something creative helped me when I was going through a hard time.”

Sam prickled defensively. “What makes you think I’m having a hard time?”