21. Midsummer-3
“I’ll get it,” Samson says, reaching for the drinks globe next to the sofa. He pulls the whisky bottle free and makes to tip to David’s glass, but David snatches the bottle by the neck and drinks from it instead. “Your dad is kind of a wreck,” Saint says into Poe’s ear. “Papers everywhere, drinking from the bottle. In love with your friend’s dad.” “He’s a widowed professor with tenure,” Poe whispers back. “What do you expect?” Fortified by the liquor, David hands the bottle back to a vaguely alarmed Samson. “Okay. Okay. Do you want to tell them, Sam?” “Sam,” Rebecca repeats under her breath. “Sam.” Samson touches his knee. “You start. I’ll help.” David covers the hand on his knee and then takes a deep breath. “Okay. So. When we were finally settled there, it was early Ju
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