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We went out onto the back porch. I put my hand out and touched Sam’s arm. I took a deep breath. “Sam. Listen. I like you as a friend. I really do. But Robert and I are serious.”

Sam looked surprised. “I know,” he said.

“I know you and your girlfriend broke up, and I, well, I can’t really see us getting back together,” I continued.

“Us? Us who?” asked Sam, looking even more surprised.

I felt like a big dope. Had I misinterpreted Sam’s actions?

“Us, as in you and me…” My voice trailed off.

Sam stared at me. Then to my surprise he blushed.

“Stacey!” he said. His voice was reproachful. “I still like you. A lot. But I think of you as a friend, someone who is fun to goof with. Someone I can be myself with. Sort of a, uh,” he ducked his head, “best girl friend, but not girlfriend, you know?”

“Oh,” I said stupidly. I was relieved. And humiliated. How conceited of me.

Then Sam made me feel better. “But I do like to flirt with you,” he said. “It keeps me in practice for my next girlfriend.”

“Oh, you,” I said, swatting him on the arm. Then I linked my arm through his and we trudged down the back steps.

“On the count of three,” Sam said, huffing, as we rocked the car back and forth.

“One, two—”

We didn’t even reach three. The car bumped up over the snow drift and coasted the rest of the way down the icy drive. At the bottom, Charlie put on the emergency brake and hopped out, holding the door for Watson.

Watson was still standing back where the car had been stuck. He took a crisp white handkerchief out of his suit pocket and dabbed at the sweat on his brow. I noticed that his face was still flushed. I made a mental note to tell Mom to urge him to take it easy.

Then he picked up his briefcase and smiled at the three of us. “Thanks, kids. I guess I’ve gotten a little out of shape. Too much time at the computer terminal and not enough time in the fresh air.”

“No kidding,” Charlie punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Why are you going to work on Saturday, anyway?”

“We’re opening a new branch office in Houston and I need to go over the architectural plans.” Watson smiled as he settled into the driver’s seat and buckled up. “Don’t worry, I haven’t become a workaholic. I’ll be home in time for the football game this afternoon. And remember, Charlie, it’s your turn to make the popcorn.”