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"And Sam can't know," Greg continues. "She might inadvertently tell Tilly. And temper your expectations; these things can take time, especially if Tilly keeps moving."
“Thank you, Greg. Seriously." I mean every word. When I sought out my two friends, I knew they would be supportive, but this goes beyond what I thought would happen.
"She's loved you for years, Tommy. But like Sam, she’s scared. The two girls are so fucking similar, it's creepy sometimes.” He laughs. “For Tilly, though, I don’t think we can wait for her to come back. In fact, I don’t think Sam would have ever faced the music if it wasn’t for her nephew’s illness.” That’s probably true. When Sam fled Costa Rica, she only allowed us to help when she discovered her nephew needed a piece of her liver. Without that, I’m almost certain we still wouldn’t have seen her. “For now, we need to find her. Then we can convince her to come home.”
I’m nodding, my chest tightening. Really, I hadn’t expected this much help. Showing up at their bungalow was more for moral support. My previous plans were to bitch and moan until they sent me packing.
Greg sits up straighter and slaps my back. “Alright, you go inside. The less I know, the less I have to lie to Sam.”
Getting out of the car, I try to quell my nerves. Hope. The first sign of it since she left is blooming inside me.
Inside the small coffee shop, I see a guy sitting at the long bar by the window. He looks exactly how I would expect an investigator. Grey polo and slacks, bags under the eyes with mussed salt and pepper hair, like he’s been staking out someone all night.
“Phil?” I ask. He nods and gestures to the seat next to him. “I’m Tommy.” I offer my hand. We shake, and Phil gets right to business. "Greg gave me her name, and I've already begun searching, but any additional info you have could help."
Practically shaking with excitement, I provide everything I know, especially about the rental car and her family dynamics from our time in Tahoe. When I finish, Phil promises to look into it and asks for a few weeks.
As we leave, Phil acknowledges Greg with a wave but doesn’t stop to talk. Back in the car, we head towards the house, my mind stuck in a loop. Weeks. He said to give him a few fucking weeks.
When Greg parks behind the bungalow, he places a hand on my knee. "We'll find her. Phil's one of the best. It just takes time. Now, come in and have some cookies with Sam."
Back inside, Sam brings out some chocolate chip cookies from the pantry, and we all sit on the couch, enjoying the moment together.
Soon, Greg has to leave for the surf shop to lend a hand to Ron, leaving Sam and me alone.
As soon as he’s gone, Sam pounces. Of course, it’s figurative since I doubt she could do anything fast with her giant stomach in the way. "You’re leaving something out. Even before you two went to Tahoe, something happened,” she says.
I can't help but smile as I recall the night she came here, upset about her apartment. "She came here, you know. I'm guessing you didn't tell her I was in town?"
Sam gives a sheepish smile. "I never even said your name if I could help it. She would start pouting, and I just couldn't stand it. You know how stubborn Tilly can be."
"I convinced her to stay the night, and she slept on the couch. But the next day, she tagged along to my tournament, and after I got hurt, she was there with me in the hospital, holding my hand."
Sam shifts in her seat, clearly engrossed in the story. "Fuck, that sounds romantic," she says.
I laugh. "It was... nice."
Her eyes narrow, but the smirk remains. “Nice? Really? Not life changing? Or orgasm inducing?”
Looking down, I admit with the first smile I have had in days, "I love her, Sam. I have to find her. She left because she was worried about me. I can't let her do that. She wants to be together, I know it."
Sam takes my hand. "When I left, I was scared. But when Penny said my nephew Clark needed my liver, I already wanted to come back. It was the excuse I needed, but honestly, I might have come home soon anyway. I missed Tilly, you, and Greg so much." She blinks back tears. "Give her time, Tommy. When she calls next, I'll try to convince her to come back. But it has to be Tilly's decision."
I nod and sniffle. "And what about TJ?" I ask, gesturing to her belly.
“Oh, he’s kicking like crazy, driving me nuts.” To emphasize her point, she places my hand on her pronounced bump, and the tiny baby kicks against my touch. My stomach leaps into my throat, a mix of excitement and a touch of nausea swirling within me.
“So weird,” I say, but secretly I love it. Part of me wonders if Tilly wants kids. I have every intention of finding her and being together forever if I can help it. Certainly, I’ve always wanted a big family. Growing up with brothers was fun, and I know I can count on them now too. If I asked, Dylan would be down here in an instant.
Greg strides back through the door, his voice laced with playful accusation. "You hitting on my lady?"
I chuckle, but pull my hand off Sam’s tummy. "Just letting TJ know his dad's a kook surfer. Sorry, bro, someone had to spill the beans."
"Kook? At least I'm not an attention whore. Did you catch his San O wipeout?" Greg asks Sam.
She shakes her head. Greg's already syncing his phone with the TV, and there I am on the screen, wiping out and surfacing with blood streaming down my face.
"Oh my god, Tommy!" Sam exclaims, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.
