Sam's aunt and uncle met us at the airport. She introduced me: "Uncle John, Aunt Sally, this is my absolute best friend, Phil Morris. Phil, my uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Goodfriend." She stuck her tongue out at me. I said, very low, for her ear alone, "Basingstoke, my dear!" and she sighed at me.
Mr. Goodfriend looked at me and said, "You're the young man who testified at the trial. I didn't remember the name. Your testimony was very well given. I'm sure there was more than you told about. And your grasp on the essence of hearsay evidence seemed very good. Had somebody coached you?"
"If someone had, would it be appropriate for me to say so? But no. I just felt that it was important to point out that MaggieâBrownâhadn't changed her story. I could testify to that, of my own knowledge."
As we went off to the baggage area, Sam said, "Phil really is the best friend I have anywhere. There's a long story behind that, which probably should wait for another day. It really is long and complicated, andâwell, I'm ashamed of a lot of it." I thought both of them looked at her questioningly, but they didn't ask anything.
When all of the baggage was accounted for, Mr. Goodfriend went off to collect their car, while the rest of us finished loading up two carts and began the rather difficult process of maneuvering them to the proper door. We managed to get there perhaps two minutes before the car arrived and got into a position where we could trundle things up to it and load them in. When you consider that this was most of what two people had had at school for four yearsâsome had been shipped to other locationsâit was an awfully small amount. It was still a lot to drag around and load into a car.
Sam and I sat in the back, crammed in with some things there wasn't room for in the trunk, and we conversed with her aunt and uncle as much as we could. Mostly with her aunt, as traffic needed a lot of attention for quite a while. Mrs. Goodfriend asked me some questions about my family, and Mr. Goodfriend said, "Ah. I think I've met your parents once or twice, then." Something about the way he said it made me think that he didn't remember them with favor.
When we arrived, the house was a large, old farmhouse, surrounded by quite a lot of land, in an area that now was developed to the point where more houses than farm fields were to be seenâbut still in the country, not in a town. We carried all the baggage into the house. Mrs. Goodfriend said, "Samantha, you know where you'll be. Mr. Morris, I'll show you where you will be."
I saw that Sam was going to dig in her heels, but decided that I had better begin by keeping out of it. I was involved, obviously, but this really was their business.
"Aunt Sally, I'm sorry, but Phil is going to be in my room." When her aunt opened her mouth to say something, Sam just rolled over whatever it was going to be. "If that's not acceptable to you, then I'll call a cab to take us to the Plaza Inn, I can afford that for two weeks. If you're afraid that people will hear that your niece is sharing a room with a man, let me tell you that when we make love I tend to be very loud unless I really work to control it, and I assure you that the whole hotel will know about it."
"Sam!" I said, not loudly but very strongly. I was again imitating Mr. Miles's ability to be heardâand demand attentionâwithout ever shouting or anything like it. Apparently I did it right. All three of them looked at me in surprise.
"Sam, we will do no such thing! If it's necessary for us to go to a hotel, we will do our absolute best to be considerate to our neighbors. If we stay here, it's your aunt's and uncle's home, and we will certainly abide by their rules about that kind of arrangement."
I lowered my voice some, or rather my tone. "Mr. and Mrs. Goodfriend, I'm sorry that my presence has already caused, um, not a quarrel, but a dispute that might become one. I'd like to ask that you discuss these arrangements with us, if you're not unalterably opposed to my sharing Sam's room. But we definitely need to get these things out of your main living areas, and for the moment we'll put them where you had planned. If this changes later, we lose no more than a little of my time moving things then. And I'm quite willing to take that risk."
Sam said to me, "Phil, you're absolutely right, as usual. I was out of line. Thank you. Uncle John, Aunt Sally, I was wrong, and I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
My hosts looked at each other. Mr. Goodfriend said, "I don't know a lot about how these things are handled at that school, but I know what's in that contract we were required to sign each year. Given that, I assume that the two of you have been sexually intimate there, is that right? With official approval?"
Sam looked at me, but the question was clearly directed at me. "That's right, sir. Quite a lot. It's probably important for us to tell you more about that, and other things, but they're pretty complicated and they all interrelate."
He said, "Sally, allowing them to share a room is a recognition of a relationship which exists, not a statement about the morality of that relationship. It seems she's willing to listen to him, and you know that's no small thing. Can't we allow them to set this up to suit themselves?"
Mrs. Goodfriend actually smiled. In fact, I had been very surprised to see a hint of a smileâor what might have been thatâfor a brief instant, somewhere in the middle of Sam's statement about the hotel. "Mr. Morris, my husband also is right, and I might also say, 'as usual.' I too know what was said in that contract. We agreed that we understood that Samantha would have sexual partners, staff or other students, as assigned or allowed by the school. I suppose having agreed to that, we really would be unreasonable to complain about Samantha's continuing in a relationship that falls under that. I apologize."
"Ma'am, there's nothing for you to apologize for. I think you're right in what you just said, but I mean what I said earlier. Not without any limits, but within broad ones, the rules you set for your home are your decision, whether reasonable or unreasonable. I may ask to have a rule changed or reconsidered, but I will not be in a position of flouting your authority in your home. And thank you for reconsidering this particular rule.
"Sam, let's get our stuff out of here now."
"Phil, just a minute. Aunt Sally, Uncle John, both of you. I'm sorry. We need to talk more, a lot more, but I need to say this up front. You took me in and welcomed me, for years. And I wasn't considerate or grateful to you. Habits are going to be hard to break, but I apologize right now, and tell you I mean to behave differently. This isn't coming out of nowhere. I've had to apologize to a lot of people this year, starting with Phil here. Only one other person came before him in that, and you heard all about that. I don't want to say more now, there's too much I need to say, but once I've told you more, I hope you'll forgive me for it all. And right now, please forgive me for what I said earlier. Phil really was right, I was wrong. You were being hospitable to Phil, and I was unpardonably rude. And I'm sorry."
I certainly could see that Sam was near to breaking into tears, and her aunt and uncle couldn't possibly have missed it. They looked at each other for a moment, and I could only think they were mystified at this. Mr. Goodfriend said, "Samantha, of course I'll forgive you. And I'm eager to hear more, this evening or tomorrow."
Mrs. Goodfriend went up to Sam and hugged her and said, "Samantha, of course. And I want to hear it as well. I need to get dinner ready, but first, please tell me. Do I need to be learning to say 'Sam' instead of 'Samantha' all over again, or is this something personal for Mr. Morrisâa pet name or some such?"
At that, Sam did drip tears, just for a moment. "Oh, Aunt Sally, thank you. And Uncle John, too. And yes, if you can, if you will, please call me Sam. That's part of what we need to tell you about, too. There really is so much it probably needs to wait for tomorrow, but maybe we can start on it this evening. But thank you!"
Her uncle said, "We saw things at the trial that suggested you've changed, and much for the better. The presiding judge said as much in so many words. Right now we don't know exactly what to expect, but we're looking forward to hearing about it."
Sam picked up a load of stuff, and started up the stairs. I picked up some and followed.
When our stuff was all carried up and at least somewhat settled, Sam took me out in the hall and stopped for a moment. "When I lived here, this was a guest room, and I guess it really still is," she said. "I have clothes and things in a couple of the drawers, but most of my stuff is now stored elsewhere, what's been kept. That," she went on, pointing to the larger bedroom next door, "is Uncle John's and Aunt Sally's. This," as we passed a bathroom and another room, "is where I was when I lived here." Inside it were a chest of drawersâprobably still with some of Sam's clothes, I guessedâand a desk, printer, computer, and the like, plus a filing cabinet. "It's really Uncle John's domain. He's a writer, now that he's retired, and he also does bookkeeping for their church and some nonprofits. Taxes and things, too, for some friends, I think. But Aunt Sally uses it too."
That reminded me. I had been startled by the appearance of Sam's aunt and uncle. They looked too old to be of her parents' generationâeven I could see that. Great-aunt and great-uncle? I would have to ask later. We went downstairs.
We were told that our timing was good, because dinner was about ready. Sam went in to help with last-minute things, and I was told to stay out of the kitchen. I wandered over to the bookcase in the living room to see what was there. Many of the books were familiar to me from my grandparents' house.
