Free Best Friends by Thomas Berger Page B

back. Sam’s problems seemed surmountable. “He’s survived this heart thing. He’s still young.”
    â€œI’m going to run a risk in even bringing this up,” Kristin said, braking to a stop under a traffic light. “I’ve never interfered before in the friendship between you two. I doubt I would be doing it now if Sam wasn’t in the hospital. This is behind his back: There’s no other way to do it.” She looked at Roy. “I’m going to ask you not to lend him any more money.”
    For the second time Roy felt as though he blushed, and on this occasion he had no clear sense of why. What could be embarrassing about lending money to a friend when you had it and in so doing were not taking food from someone else’s mouth? He and Robin had each inherited considerably more than Sam had been left by his own father, on whose estate the creditors made many claims.
    The driver behind them sounded his horn on the green light. Kristin looked back at the road and put the Corolla in motion. “This is the time if there ever was one for him to make a basic change.”
    â€œIt hasn’t been all that much,” Roy said, “and Sam—”
    She interrupted, and in an offensive style. “Oh, come on, Roy. I’m married to him, remember? Not to mention that I’m a banker. I have a damn good idea of what he’s taken from you.”
    â€œThat’s more than I do. Look, he’s got it coming. My father thought a lot of Sam. He told me he would have left him something if my sister would have put up with it, but he was sure Robin wouldn’t. He didn’t even want the subject brought up with her.”
    â€œWell, that’s your business,” Kristin said, peering through the windshield more intensely than the now lightly trafficked road demanded. “Mine is to see he acquires more financial responsibility, and I’m asking you to help. As his friend.” She glanced quickly his way, frowning. “As my friend.”
    Roy nervously slapped himself on the kneecap. “That’s more easily said than done. We’ve been sharing stuff for years. If it was something one had, the other could always make a claim on it. He’s usually the one who’s had more possessions than I. He’s the collector, not me, except for cars.”
    â€œAnd you sell them. That’s completely different. How often have you asked to borrow Sam’s movie cassettes? Doesn’t he always suggest some title, even press it on you? Same thing with CDs, boutique beers, or whatever, at least since I’ve known the two of you.”
    Roy was made resentful by what was indeed the truth, but who was she to have recognized it so arrogantly and, worse, to announce it in this style?
    â€œHe’s the one with the ideas. He’s better at having fun than I’ve ever been. He gets so much pleasure from sharing his interests. Sometimes I’ve gone along just to please him, watched a movie I knew I wouldn’t like; and you know Sam, you have to do your homework, he’s not going to let you give a simple pro or con reaction to anything he’s suggested you do or watch or taste. So you’re forced to pay attention to detail, and more often than not I’ve ended up liking whatever it was.” He cleared his throat. “Or sort of liking it, which is different from liking something in the natural way without being influenced.”
    â€œOh?” asked Kristin, without irony and as if to herself. “You’ve noticed that, too.”
    Subliminally he also noticed that they had entered a familiar neighborhood. She now turned into the driveway of the Grandy residence.
    â€œI’ll pick up that water,” he said as they pulled up behind the house. “You handle the security system.” He turned to open the door.
    Kristin asked, “Do you mind, Roy?”
    He looked over his shoulder. “I’m not