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She was always a really sensible girl. Lower middle class, but a hard worker. No extracurricular stuff or anything, and she always had her nose buried in a book. I loved that! Sensible clothes, sensible shoes, glasses, quiet and polite with the teachers and not really shy, but she didn’t smile too much in school or anything. And she always wore her blue coat all day long in school. That’s important to the story, actually. One year she got special permission to take eight classes a day with no lunch break. But she loved wine, too. Nah, not hard stuff like this, just wine. At least in high school. And she had a great laugh if you got a chance to hear it.Pretty funny once you got to know her, if you got to know her. But yeah, the wedding day. Not her wedding day, of course. Her cousin’s wedding day. It was a beautiful Saturday in May, about a month before we graduated. I was barely eighteen, and she was a month or so older than I was. We were friends from the seventh grade on, and more. A simple brunch was prepared and eaten. Both were aware that they neededto discuss what had gone before and what might come, but both wereslightly unsure of how and where to start. A pensive air permeated thehouse as soft music was played and each waited on a signal, fromsomewhere, to begin. Morning became afternoon and drifted slowly, whileconversation remained neutral and sparse. Sam felt the tension in her body rising slowly and knew they had to workthings out or it would fester and they would break once more. Most likelya final break should it come. The CD playing was Michael Buble and as hecrooned of distance, feeling alone and wanting to come 'Home', Sam felttears begin.Kara saw and understood, "Oh Sam, this is home and I'm here and I want youhere as well. Samantha is who you are and neither of us can deny thereality of that. I know you are a little afraid and unsure of what I needor want... whether you fit anymore." She took a breath and gathered herthoughts. "I hurt you, I.
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