Chapter Text
Near eleven, Sam -- tipsy from champagne -- curls up on the sofa and pillows her head in Susan’s lap.
“Wake me at midnight,” Sam drowsily pats Susan’s knee, then lets her hand rest warm and heavy on Susan’s thigh.
Susan freezes.
It had been intentional, inviting Sam to Jean’s and Hilda’s. They would be among friends -- friends who knew. There would be champagne. They would be out late. In other words, an it would be an evening of possibilities.
She still finds herself unprepared.
Millie -- her arm around Lucy’s shoulders -- catches Susan’s eye and raises her glass of champagne in salute.