Page 58 of Backward Motion

“Yes, Mom. I got Mr. Willis to fill a new prescription yesterday,” he replied. “I’ve got everything sorted, okay? There’s nothing to worry about.”

But his mother didn’t look convinced. She watched as he rummaged around in his satchel for his phone. “It’s just, you’ve been a little down lately.”

“More than usual?”

She shot him a look. “Yes, more than usual. That wouldn’t have anything to do with the handsome electrician you’re leaving behind?”

“Mom!” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Oh, come on, Samuel. You think I didn’t know there was someone? You were gone so much we barely saw you. I put two and two together at the awards dinner. You should’ve seen your face light up when you saw him.” Sam flushed bright red, and his mother patted his arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I kept my suspicions to myself. You’re not a teenager anymore. It’s none of my business who you’re sneaking around with.”

“And yet here we are talking about it,” Sam muttered. He studied his mom cautiously. “Weren’t you... weren’t you shocked?”

“About Connor?” His mother gave a little laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. I learned early on not to judge a book by its cover. I just hope one day, he’ll get around to telling Maureen. She worries constantly about that boy.”

“I think he’d be surprised to know how many people are in his corner,” Sam said. “He acts like it’s him against the world.”

The pang hit him right between the ribs. He’d told Connor he couldn’t be with him because hiding their relationship made Sam feel alone. But he hadn’t considered how lonely it must be for Connor, who was hiding all the time. Being himself around Sam must have felt so freeing.

He looked down at his hands and tried to hide the lurch of sadness. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The whole thing was too... complicated.”

“Did Connor like you back?”

Sam’s pulse quickened when he thought of Connor’s adoring expression. Sam would fight the urge to glance over his shoulder, convinced it must be someone else he was looking at. He nodded.

“Did he treat you badly?”

“Never.”

“Well, what’s complicated about that?”

Sam gave a frustrated sigh. “It’s not that simple. You were there. You saw what happened that night.”

“I saw a young man struggling to call out his father’s prejudice. Connor was clearly upset. We’re often more accepting of bad behavior when it’s directed at us but less so when aimed at someone we care about. Perhaps he just needed the right opportunity to realize that some people are worth confronting what’s painful.”

Sam blinked, silenced by his mother’s insight.

“We can be so quick to leave a situation when we encounter an obstacle and other times ignore all obstacles and stay much longer than we should.” She gave him a knowing smile. “Finding the right balance is a tricky business.”

Sam flooded with shame when he thought of what he’d put up with from Felix, all the red flags he ignored, and the cruelty he made excuses for. It was possible that in his effort to avoid repeating those mistakes, he had overcorrected. Maybe instead of an ultimatum, there might have been room for a discussion. Then he remembered the way Connor’s face had shuttered when Sam told him he was leaving. It was too late for what-ifs.

“This will be good for me, Mom,” he tried to reassure her. “A fresh start, a chance to get back into the swing of things.” But as he spoke, the words sounded hollow.

Earlier that morning, when he was shaving in the bathroom, his hand had given a little tremor. He was about to throw himself back into the shark-infested waters of competitive, career-obsessed corporate America. The thought made his heart hammer.

“Well, if you’re sure. You know best.” His mom clicked her tongue. “We’d better get a move on, then. Where is your father?” She threw an exasperated look at the staircase. “I swear, if that man is in the back of the closet with his old crossword books again...”

His mom disappeared up the stairs, and Sam heard the phone ring from the kitchen.What would a call accomplish that a text couldn’t?he thought as he walked down the hall.

He picked up the receiver hanging next to the fridge. “Bryant residence.”

“Oh. Is Lily in?” It was Maureen Finnegan. She sounded odd—soft and squeaky.

“She’s upstairs at the moment. I’ll go grab her.” Sam glanced at the clock on the stove to make sure they still had enough time before his flight.

“No, no need. It’s Maureen. Could you tell her I won’t be able to make our class tonight? Ian’s in the ICU.”

Sam clutched the phone to his ear. “The ICU?” he echoed. “Is he all right?”