Twenty-Seven
On the drive home, I decide I’m not going to let Sam’s involvement in my brother’s wedding get to me. This is their special day—this is not about me. Grow up, Frankie.
Though it is weird that after all these years of not speaking to one another, all of a sudden they’re good enough friends that Gabe has asked Sam to be his best man. Maybe they’ve had long, heartfelt talks that I’m not privy to. Maybe they’ve worked everything out via email or over a pitcher at their favorite brewpub.
Maybe I don’t know about this stuff because I don’t answer when Sam texts or calls or emails.
Maybe I don’t even know why I’m ignoring him.
His last email from two days ago said that Lisa Reynolds had her baby, a little girl, but that the child went immediately into foster care because Lisa th
