It’s just lunch, Sam tells herself as she gets into the jeep and makes her way toward the Manisses. When Sam gets to the hotel Alexa is easy to recognize. She’s alone, and she’s waiting outside, wearing a sundress and flip-flops, and she’s about three times prettier than anyone surrounding her. High bun. Fantastic bone structure. Really good eyebrows. Light makeup, slightly nervous smile. Sam pulls into the small parking area, Alexa waves, and Sam waves back.
Does this Alexa know (or care) anything about Sam? Has she seen the photos? Probably. What if she has seen the photos but not the defense of the photos? What if she thinks the photos are actuallySam?All of the feelings Sam has kept pushed so carefullydown since Memorial Day come roiling to the surface. They spin around and around her insides, like damp clothes in the washing machine. Sam doesn’t like the feeling. This is why she gave up social media. This is why she gave up new people.
“Hi,” Alexa says, climbing into the passenger seat of the jeep. “I’m Alexa. Thank you for babysitting me.”
Darnit. Sam likes her. This is exactly what she isn’t looking for: a new friend. But she smiles and says, “Hi, Alexa. My uncle has told me a lot about you. All good, I promise.”
For lunch, Alexa decides on The Oar, overlooking Great Salt Pond. Sam hasn’t eaten here yet, but she’s heard great things. Plus, there’s parking, and they don’t take reservations, so there’s no shame in not having one. They luck out by getting a table after only ten minutes.
True to its name, oars of all shapes, sizes, and colors hang from the ceiling. Alexa and Sam spend some time commenting on the oars (So many! Where do they all come from? How’d they get them up there?Etc.). Then the server comes to take their drink order.
“I can’t have a drink or anything,” says Sam to Alexa, feeling slightly apologetic. “Rehearsal tonight.” To the server she says, “Iced tea, please.”
“I’m on the clock!” says Alexa. “Iced tea for me too.”
“My uncle talks about you like you walk on water.”
“Ha!” says Alexa. “I definitely do not walk on water. I barely swim! He’s a good boss.”
Sam coughs politely. When she lived with her uncle and Gertie for that year, he went through three assistants. She’s glad to hear he’s settled down.
Once they have their iced teas and order their food (lobster club for Alexa—Sam is happy to see that she’s not one of those girls who doesn’t eat!—and spicy tuna roll for Sam) they both start to say something at the same time.
“Go ahead,” says Alexa.
“No,yougo ahead.” Sam feels like she’s the official host of this outing, so she should let Alexa go first.
“I was just going to say, it’s so funny to see you in person. I’m a fan!”
Sam’s stomach lurches. “If it’s okay with you,” she says, “I don’t want to talk about any of that Xanadu stuff. I’m really trying to put it behind me.” She wants to be polite but firm—very firm. “It was pretty awful. I’m not even on social media right now, except for one thing I just did for the play. I’m pretty scarred from everything that happened.”
“Not Xanadu!” Alexa chortles. “Ohmygosh, I wasn’t going to bring that up. That’s a bunch of bullshit.”
“But you knew about it?” asks Sam. She doesn’t want to know, but also she feels like she needs to know. “I mean, you’ve heard of Xanadu? Do you know the basics?”
It’s at this moment that their food arrives, giving them each something to concentrate on. When the server departs Alexa says, “I mean, I guess? As much as anyone knows about anything. Sort of as background noise. But I don’t go on TikTok much. I really didn’t pay attention. Who can keep up with everything? It’s exhausting.”
“Exhausting,” whispers Sam.Exhaustingis exactly the right word for it.
“Believe me, I get it,” says Alexa.
“You do?” asks Sam. “You get it?” The spicy tuna roll is fantastic, but Sam tries to take it slow; she doesn’t want it to repeat on her later, in rehearsal. She’s already learned a few things this summer that don’t mix with the stage. Anything fried. Burgers. A three-egg omelet involving meat.
“Yeah, I do. It’s a shitty world sometimes, and if you open yourself up to it... well, it can really suck. I used to do this YouTube channel... it was silly.”
“What was it?”
Alexa shakes her head and laughs. “I get embarrassed saying it out loud.”
Sam is intrigued. “Was it somethingdirty?”
“Oh, God no.No.It was called Silk Stockings. I sat in a chair and explained things about the stock market. It was very innocent, actually. And basic! So basic. I didn’t even know that much about the stock market. I was just explaining little baby concepts, stuff that anyone could look up on their own. But you know what, people have made money from less online, so I figured, why not give it a shot?”
“Were you wearing like silk stockings?”
“No! Definitely not. I was wearing clothes like I’m wearing now. Nothing scandalous. It was just a play on words, you see, with the stock market? Stockings?”
“Ohhh,” says Sam. “I get it. That’s clever.”
