#sam lloyd

futuremrslloyd:

“I love you,” he whispered quietly. “Ikh hob dikh lib.” He kissed Evie’s head. She rustled in her sleep, turning away. “Fine. I see how it is. I just wasted my best Yiddish on you,” Sam joked to himself.

Evie O’Neill, would you marry me?

       Evie raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we play these roles already? A few months ago?”
       “That was pretend. I mean on the level. Evie O’Neill, would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Lamb Chop?”
       Evie could scarcely catch her breath.
       “If you’re pulling my leg, Sam Lloyd, I swear on all things holy…”
       But his face didn’t have even a trace of a smirk.
       Evie beamed. “Well, I’m telling you right now that you’ll have to find me a better ring. I am pos-i-tutely not wearing this one.”
       “Does that mean…?”
       Evie laughed and threw her arms around Sam’s neck. “Yes! Yes, Sam Lloyd. I will marry you!”
       “Hot dog!” Sam lifted Evie up and twirled her around.

Hey, Baby Vamp. It’s Sam. You remember me? The fella who’s goofy for you? I was just thinking about that first time I saw you in Penn Station. You were looking at yourself in the shop window, making sure your hat was on straight. I could see your reflection. You weren’t sure if you looked like a city girl or some rube from Ohio. My first thought seeing you… well, my first thought was, That there is a bona fide mark, Sam Lloyd. Gonna level with you, Baby Vamp. Street smarts you did not yet have. But watching you bite your kisser and fix your hat, I thought, Why does a tomato like that doubt herself? Even then, I knew you were like the Fourth of July inside a person. And then I stole twenty bucks from you like a lousy bum. But that twenty bucks brought me back to you, so maybe I’m also a real smart bum.
     I know I got a reputation as a cake-eater and a con. I can’t keep you in pearls, and the only joint I can afford is a hash house. I never wanted my name in lights the way you did. Me? You know I operate like a shell game, don’t see me and all that jazz. But if that’s what you wanted, well, by golly, I’d be in the front row, cheering you on. I’m cheering you on right now, Baby Doll. I’m in that front row telling you you can do this, you can get stronger and stronger, and then you’re gonna rise up outta that bed and show us all that Evie O’Neill moxie. You got to, okay, honey? Because I can face just about anything the King of Crows throws at us. But I can’t do it without you. Ikh hob dikh lib. I love you, Evie.

Three of Swords.Betrayal, lies, turmoil.

“I come about a friend of yours, Sam Lloyd.” The boy reached behind him and brought out Sam’s hat. “He’s in some trouble, Miss. Bad trouble.”
Lefty told Evie about the men who’d come and taken Sam away in the brown sedan. By the time he’d finished, Evie was more frightened than ever. She gave Lefty a dollar and asked him to keep what he knew quiet for his own protection.
Sam’s hat sat in her hands. She could feel it wanting to whisper its messages to her.
“Show me where you are, Sam,” she said, and pressed into its secrets for all she was worth.

“I love you,” he whispered quietly. “Ikh hob dikh lib.” He kissed Evie’s head. She rustled in her sleep, turning away. “Fine. I see how it is. I just wasted my best Yiddish on you,” Sam joked to himself.

Everything felt too real right now. She needed to be real with someone. “I just need something that doesn’t feel like a lie.”
      “Okay.” Sam swallowed hard, took a deep breath. “Then here it is: All the times I say, ‘Don’t see me’? With you, I wish I had an opposite power: See me. See me, Evie. See all of me. There’s a fella who loves you right here.”
      “But … what if I love you and you go away?” Evie said, almost a whisper.
      “Sheba, I’m sitting across from you right now. Don’t you see that I’m not going anywhere?”

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