"What a night!" Diane Chambers exclaimed as she collapsed on Norm's barstool.
"Hey, hey, hey," Sam Malone said in a chastizing manner. "That's Norm's stool."
"He finally went home fifteen minutes ago, Sam," Diane retorted. She was too tired to deal with his shit right now.
"Sweetheart, go home if you're that tired. Woody and Carla went home already and so can you."
"I feel like I should stay, Sam. You still have quite a bit of cleaning up to do here."
"Well get up off your butt and help me then."
"Fine," she said as she threw down her hands in surrender. "Mind if I play some music?"
"Be my guest. Got a dime for the jukebox?"
"I have plenty, thanks."
Sam had to stifle a laugh. Diane was definitely a classical music kind of girl and not much of an oldies rock n' roll type. He could only imagine what kind of song she was in the mood to listen to. It came as a shock to Sam to hear the twangy guitar and the low whimpering of Hank Williams fill up the bar.
"Really Diane?"
"Really what, Sam?"
"I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry?"
"It's a good song, Sam," she retorted again as she picked up a high ball glass and a rag, trying to give the glasses one last good wipe.
"Yeah, it's a sad one, too. Why do you want to play a sad song?"
"Does everything I do have to have a reason?"
"Diane Chambers," Sam piped up, amazed. "Little Miss Nitpick just asked Big Doofus if everything has to have a reason for something?"
"Sam," Diane looked up at him, teary-eyed. "Can I please just listen to my song?"
"Sure," he replied, quietly.
Side by side, Diane and Sam stood next to each other, cleaning their glasses in silence. For two very long minutes the only one who was making any noise in the place was Hank Williams. When the song finally came to a close, Sam looked at Diane and realized her cheeks were wet with tears. Diane looked at him just as he was looking at her and it caused her to drop a beer mug on the floor, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.
"Oh no!" Diane screamed. "I broke one of the Wilson brothers!"
"Hey, yeah," he said as he grabbed the hand broom and dust pan from the bottom of the bar. "Coach nicknamed them that. I had forgotten."
"I miss him so much," Diane whispered as she covered her mouth.
Sam went on cleaning up the shattered remains of Brother Wilson while Diane began to cry again. He looked up at her as it clicked why Diane was crying: she missed Coach. He did too and he was sure everyone else in the bar did too. As soon as the mess was cleaned up, he took Diane's face in his hands and kissed her temple.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he said as he wrapped his arms around her. "I know you how close you were to him. I know you miss him. It's okay."
"I just," Diane began to explain as she pulled away from Sam. "I feel like I lost my father all over again."
"I do, too."
"I would have loved nothing more than to have one more crazy New Year with him by my side."
"Me too."
"Do I sound selfish?"
"No."
That moment would have been perfect for a zinger. He would have asked her when she wasn't ever selfish or he would have just replied totally. He realized though that she was still in mourning and so wasn't he. She noticed how precious this moment was and she hugged him again.
"Thank you, Sam."
"Thank you, Diane."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
"Is it all right if I go home now?"
"Might as well; you broke our last glass."
"Oh," she chuckled as she put her hand to her mouth. Sam laughed at her in an endearing sort of way. God, she could be cute when she felt like it.
"Hey," he piped up.
"Yes?"
"Happy New Year."
"Yes," she said with a kiss for his cheek. "Happy New Year."
"Now get out of my bar," he ordered with a smile.
It's a rare moment in Diane Chambers' life where she leaves a moment alone but she did that one. She just smiled back at Sam and turned on her heels to grab her coat and purse. Sam turned on his own heels to put the stools up on the bar. When Diane was ready, she simply waved Sam goodbye and Sam did the same to her. No words were exchanged; they didn't need any.
