Three days before Christmas, Sam set off for the beach with her overnight bag, a bottle of vodka, and the present for Valerie carefully wrapped and slipped into her bag without telling Barry. He was unhappy enough about her going, but he had made Sam promise not to take a gift. “That implies some kind of continuing relationship, Sam,” Barry had said. “And you can’t afford to get further involved with the girl.”
Of course, Barry had a point. But Sam didn’t care. All she could think about was being with Valerie again. Maybe things would be better now that Valerie was free to see her. Maybe the change in circumstances (Sam refrained from thinking “Sally’s death”) would make things easier with Barry, too. I mean, he can’t fuss about me “shitting on Sally” by seeing Valerie when Sally’s dead,
