#archaeologue

“Sam?”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you, too.”

“This is–we’re in Denver,” she continued, wide eyes fixed on him.

“Yeah, no shit. I know where we are.”

“Are you scouting for a location?” Her brow furrowed. “Is Justine with you?”

“No. And no. Uh, Sheila called me.”

“Really.”

“Yes. She said to tell you, ‘you can keep the socks.’ I’m guessing you’ll know what that means, because I don’t have a fucking clue. But it’s Sheila, so I’m pretty used to that.”

The socks she’d gotten in the gift exchange were cute, with little reindeer on them. She’d thanked Sheila at the time, and promised to wear them in Omaha. Now she understood her friend’s slight smile, the way she’d nodded and held her tongue.

Merry Christmas to you too, she sent towards Baltimore, then squared her shoulders to stare Sam down.

“Okay, so Sheila told you where to find me. That doesn’t explain why you came.”

“To see you. To talk.”

“We tried that in L.A. I think we said enough. And my flight will be boarding soon.”

“You’ve got more than twenty minutes! What else are you gonna do, find pen pals?”

“Mean,” Ruth shot back halfheartedly. She hated even admitting it to herself, but she had been missing him already.

“I bought a fucking plane ticket to come find you,” Sam said, softer. “If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t talk. Listen. Okay? Would you-would you just listen?”

“Fine.”

She patted the empty seat next to her, watching with amusement as Sam tried to settle comfortably into a chair that was uncomfortable by design.

“I’m not trying to spring anything on you. Or chase you, or anything. I didn’t want to say this over the phone.”

“What could you possibly have to say, what else?” Ruth was working herself up for round two, he could see it like a gathering cloud, and they didn’t have time for that today. “You already told me you loved me, completely out of nowhere, and then you told me you wanted to try, and then you–”

“I had a heart attack.”

“What?”

That stopped her mid-argument. He watched her backpedal and try to catch up.

“Sam–you what? You had a heart attack? When? Why didn’t you…”

Ruth let go of the rest of her question, not sure she actually wanted to know the answer. Why would he have told her? They hadn’t even spoken, since.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, as though she’d said something else. “I, uh, I didn’t tell Justine either, so if you could keep that to yourself for now, I’d appreciate it. I’m going to tell her, eventually, but it’s her first movie, and it means so much to her.”

“Sam.” Ruth’s voice twisted. He knew that tone; it meant tears were up next.

“Jesus. Please don’t start that, okay? I didn’t tell you for dramatic effect.”

“Why did you tell me?”

“I meant what I said, before, about wanting to be honest with you. I meant that.”

“Okay…”

“So, I told you about the movie because I didn’t want you to think I’d used the part as a, as some kind of trick to get you to L.A. Just because I missed you. I did miss you, and I did want you there, but I never would’ve lied to you for that.”

“It doesn’t matter, Sam. It’s fine. I’m going home for Christmas, and I’m going to use the break to figure out what I want to do next. It’s fine. It’s over.”

“It’s not fine! Nothing about this is fine, Ruth. What the fuck. I left you standing on the street thinking I’m, I don’t know, one of those creeps who pushes too hard or lies to get you into bed, and I don’t want you thinking that. Go home to Omaha, move on with your life, whatever, but I couldn’t leave it like that. Not with you remembering me as some old asshole who broke your heart.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, but the tears held back from spilling, just barely. “You’re not old.”

“Sure. Right. Just an asshole, then.”

“Yeah.” She smiled, a peace offering. “And you didn’t break my heart.”

“Hm.”

“Bruised it, maybe. A bit.”

“Oh, is that all.”

“Yeah. I’m the one who’s good at that,” she admitted, staring out at the terminal instead of at him. “I break my own heart. Chasing parts, chasing men, chasing…something, I don’t even know what except I know I haven’t found it yet.”

Now she looked back at him, blue eyes blazing. “Debbie offered me a job, directing. Running a show. On a new network.”

“Holy shit.”

“I turned her down.”

He let out a slow breath. “Of course you did.”

“She was so mad…but it’s not what I want.”

“You’d be good at it.”

“Yeah, and maybe I’d be good at teaching English, or pole dancing, but that doesn’t make it my dream.”

“Pole dancing.”

“I’ve never tried it. I could be good.”

“Sure.” His smile was fond, just short of patronizing. She frowned and shifted to better hold his gaze.

“I can’t believe you almost died and you didn’t tell anybody.”

“I told you.”

“Not good enough. Who was with you in the hospital? I’m assuming you were in a hospital? Not just guessing about the whole heart attack thing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I was in a hospital. Nurses were with me. It was fine, I got myself home, I agreed to direct Justine’s movie, I came here. No problems.”

“Wait.”

Shit.

“This happened before you signed on as director? Sam. This happened before I was in L.A?”