“That sounds like a transformative moment.”
“Very much so,” Sam says. “It sparked a serious interest in psychology while forcing me to examine who I had become as a man. I’ve been working hard on being a good guy, but the truth of the matter is, I’ve never stopped being afraid that I’m going to turn out like him.” Something is changing in his face. My god. He’s starting to cry. “Now that I’ve found Annie, I don’t ever want to lose her.”
“You shouldn’t worry about turning out like your father,” I say, fidgeting in my chair. “You’re a good man. Smart. Generous. Brave.”
He laughs. “Brave? I’m the biggest coward there is.”
“Sam,” I say gently. “That’s ludicrous.”
“No, Albert, it’s not. You want to know how brave I am?” He holds up a finger. “One: I haven’t visited my mother in months. Two: I’ve kept things from my wife.” He looks away. “I didn’t get Cal Ripken Jr. to sign my bat.”
“What?” I say, lost.
“I was thirteen.” Sam closes his eyes, tears spilling onto his cheeks. “My mother surprised my father and me with tickets to see Ripken play at Camden Yards. Best moment of my life, opening that envelope.” He wipes his eyes with the sleeves of the MIT sweatshirt I loaned him this morning. “I’d read that at the end of the game, Ripken would stand in a certain area and sign one hundred autographs. I couldn’t sleep for weeks, thinking what it was going to feel like to meet him.”
I take the Kleenex box from the table and extend it to him.
“My mom and I devised a foolproof plan,” Sam continues, pulling a tissue. “My dad and I would leave our seats at the top of the ninth. Get there in time, but not so early that we’d miss a lot of the game.” He falls silent.
I clear my throat. “And?”
“And then this girl shows up in the seat in front of us, and I knew right away I was fucked. ‘His weakness,’ that’s how he’d describe a pretty woman any time the two of us were together.” He swallows back more tears. “Top of the ninth rolls around, and my dad’s got his fingers hooked around her belt loop, whispering something in her ear. I couldn’t pull him away. He told me to go by myself, and I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” I ask, gently.
“I was afraid of what would happen if I left the two of them alone. I was afraid he’d cheat on my mom if I wasn’t there to watch him.” He starts to cry again. “And so I stayed. Missed the one chance I’d ever have to meet my hero.” He blows his nose. “I don’t know what’s worse. That my dad cheated anyway, or the sight of my mom standing in the living room window when we pulled into the driveway the next morning. ‘So?’ she asked, all excited. ‘Did you get his autograph?’”
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing,” Sam says. “I just held up my bat and showed her the black scrawl of Cal Ripken’s autograph, which I drew myself in the car ten minutes before we got home.”
“Oh, Sam,” I say. “You’re such a good man.”
He smiles. “And you’re a good clinician.”
“What?”
“You have a mind for this work,” he says, blowing his nose. “I’ve never shared any of this before. It feels good to talk to you.”
“That’s like Van Gogh telling a street painter he has talent,” I say, blushing.
Sam laughs and then presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Good lord. I need a nap.”
“Of course,” I say, standing up and returning to the cart. “You should rest.”
“Thank you, Albert,” Sam says as I hand him the pills. “And you know what? I’ve been thinking about something.” He hesitates. “You want to have that drink?”
“Drink?” I ask.
“Yeah, the one I turned down the night of the storm. I don’t know about you, but I sure could use a stiff cocktail.”
“Sure,” I say, exhilarated. “When?”
Sam shrugs. “I’ll have to check my calendar, but I’m pretty sure I’m free tonight. Six p.m. work?”
“Six p.m.,” I repeat, as I watch him toss the pills into his mouth. “I’d like that very much.”
Chapter 39
Sam checks the clock on the table beside him—three minutes to six—and then taps the waistband of his sweatpants one more time, making sure the pills are still there. Six of them, which he’d spit out after Albert left the room over the past two days, hiding them in his pillowcase. It hasn’t been easy. The pills put him to sleep almost immediately, and given all his options, sleep consistently ranks high on the list, but it’s all been worth it for this moment.