Recovering alcoholic Sam isn't quite ready to let go of his failing marriage. Gord gave up his dream to care for his dying father, and now he's trapped by an inheritance he doesn't want.
When Sam's new job sends him to Gord's remote farm in the hear...
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2013
1.1
Rain filled the grey air outside the window.
The phone rang three times.
"Hello." The voice was carefully neutral.
"Hi, Sam. How are you?"
"I'm okay. As good as can be expected, I guess. You?"
"I'm good."
A brief silence, palpably awkward.
"It's good to hear from you. I'm assuming this isn't the good news I've been waiting for, but I would love to hear that I'm wrong."
"I saw the condo on the news."
"Ah." Wry humour. "The condo. Of course. I should've known that to get you to call me all I needed to do was get washed away by a biblical flood."
"Is this really the time to be joking about this?"
"I'm pretty sure you'd prefer jokes to whatever else might come out of my mouth right now."
"Sam--"
"So, you saw the condo on TV."
"Yeah." A pause. "It was pretty surreal. I mean, this whole thing has been pretty wild, but seeing the place we used to live looking like an island was just-- it was a bit of a shock."
Laughter. "It was pretty surreal, having to evacuate. The condo's actually okay, but the whole first floor of the building is underwater. Dan's out of town and he left his Lamborghini in the parkade, all you can see is the roof. He must be kicking himself, there's no way his insurance will cover that kinda damage."
"Really? You spotted that from the helicopter footage? I could only make out the building, with the roads basically just rivers, now."
"No, I walked in from the barricade today. Wanted to see it myself. It was pretty cool, actually. I've never seen it so empty downtown. It's like the twilight zone, like an alternate universe."
"I thought no one was supposed to go down there yet. They're saying it's going to be days before the water starts to go down."
"You didn't really think that'd stop me, did you?"
"I hope you were careful. Even if it's shallow, the water's so murky, if you slipped, or got your foot caught on something--"
"Don't tell me you're worried about me." Wry sarcasm.
A sigh. "I'm glad you got out okay."
"Everyone got out okay, it wasn't exactly an emergency. We had hours of warning."
"I heard an old woman died."
"Maybe. I don't think it's been confirmed yet."
A moment of quiet.
"How are you, then? Obviously, the house is on high ground, so you're fine that way."
"I'm okay. Work is the same. Getting lots of overtime."
"Your parents?"
"Keep asking when we're gonna make this official."
Silence, uncomfortable.
"So where are you staying until you can go back?"
"With my parents."
"That's working out okay?"
"My parents love it, of course. You know how they love to have me around. My mom's been giving me the play-by-play of every single one of Nenshi's press conferences. I think she's got a crush. It's great, I don't even need to go online and I get all the mayoral updates. She's not so keen on the chief of police, though."
"Of course your parents are happy to have you around. I remember how shocked they were when we moved in together, like they thought you'd live with them until they died. But I was asking about you, not your parents."
A small hesitation. "I'm fine. I feel like I'm a teenager again. This bedroom is like a time capsule. They haven't even taken down my old posters. God, I used to have the worst taste in music." More laughter.
"You still do."
"Yeah, sure. At least I don't like that derivative crap you listen to."
Resignation: "Do we really need to make this a fight?"
"Am I making this a fight? I think you're the one reading too much into things."
A long sigh. Another silence.
"So, I take it you're not gonna offer to let me come stay with you."
"That wasn't the plan."
"I could sleep in the guest bed. I know Molly would be happy to see me."
"Don't weaponize the dog against me. We talked about this."
"I'm not weaponizing anything."
"I'm not gonna ask you to stay with me, Sam. I don't think it's a good idea."
"You don't think anything is a good idea anymore."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I thought we were trying to work through this, not ignore it. I wish you would talk to me."
"I am talking to you, Sam."
"You're purposely misunderstanding me."
"And you're purposely forgetting what I told you I need from you."
"You told me you need space. I've given you space. I've given you so much fucking space we might as well be on different planets."
"You need to stop trying to make this my fault." Exasperation.
Sharply: "Well, maybe you need to stop pretending like you still care."
A beat.
"I'm sorry." Contrition. "I didn't mean it like that. I know you still care. I just-- this's hard for me."
"I know."
"I really am sorry. For--everything."
"You know that this is hard for me, too."
"I know." Quiet, and then: "I still love you."
Heavy sadness. "I know, Sam. I love you, too."
. . .
Cover photos from Pexels and Peter Kleinau via Unsplash. Banner photo from Josh Johnson on Unsplash.
