– Sammy –
Closure
Sam didn’t come home last night.
Lily and I came back to the apartment to cool off and take a breath. If my daddy taught me anything, it was to take a breath before reacting.
It was to always stay cool under pressure.
It was to never incriminate yourself.
Unfortunately, that last point was a total failure on my part, because I walked away letting Sam believe I committed an act I did not.
But I’m done, so it doesn’t matter.
He’s not the man I loved.
He’s not the man I knew in high school.
He’s simply a bitter asshole and in no way related to the Sam I once knew. And I don’t care for his approval anymore. He can believe whatever he wants, and since I guess he’s believed that about me this whole time, then nothing actually changes.
But it does explain some of the hate from his family and friends.
Silver linings.
Less confusion.
Lily and I stayed at the apartment last night, but this morning, Tuesday morning, when he still hasn’t returned, I start cleaning away the things we used in the kitchen in preparation to leave, and for the second time this year, I come across a large corporate envelope with my name on it.
I find it tucked away in a drawer. Not out, but not hidden either. It’s just there, taunting me like ‘I can’t believe you didn’t find me until now.’ The address is faded as though it was written there forever ago, but as I open it up and find divorce papers, I realize that it really shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.
I sit down heavily in the kitchen chair and stare at the benign envelope and the small stack of papers with folded ‘sign here’ tabs. Like he thinks I’m a total fucking idiot, like I need a road map to find the spaces that say ‘signature.’
In the entire time since I left Sam, I’ve never once picked up my phone to call my folks for a single second of coddling. I never called a friend. I didn’t dare dial Sam’s number, although I wanted to a billion times. I sat alone in my apartment and ate my feelings and cried until I became numb.
Sam Turner ruined me when I was just a girl, and though I warned him, and I warned myself, it still happened. He still ensured I’d never be able to move on. I’d never be able to have a healthy adult relationship, because he built ours up to a level that simply cannot be reached by another man.
And he’d warned me that that would happen. That there would never be another man for me.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I read over the papers.
And I find myself missing home. I miss my life back here, even if it was living under my parents’ patriarchal roof. Even if my mother ruled with an iron-fist and an ivory hairbrush. Even if I hated them both with every fiber in my body, the years we spent here in this town were the best years of my life. And for that, and that alone, I owe them thanks. I owe the universe thanks, but once that’s done, I owe it a big fat ‘fuck you’ because I’m so unequipped to move on to happiness.
I pick up my cell with shaking hands. I look around Sam’s empty kitchen, then standing, I begin dialing and I wander through the apartment to the spare room to check on Lily.
The phone begins to ring in my ear, so closing out Sam’s voice from the iPod, I shut the bedroom door and walk back to the kitchen.
“Hello?”
A lump forms in my throat at the familiar, but at the same time, unfamiliar, voice. I swipe away an errant tear and move back to my chair in the kitchen. “Hey Snitch. How are you?”
“Soda? Honey, you sound sad.”
I laugh nervously and wipe away another tear. “You haven’t heard my voice in forever, how would you know what sad sounds like?”
“Because you’re my squad, and someone has upset you. Tell me and I’ll come and take care of it.”
“Actually, a mean girl tried to kick me in the head recently.”
“What?” Meg shouts down the line, and I’m imagining her literally sitting in a recliner chair then dramatically jumping up. I laugh louder than before as her actions release something inside me that was wound so tight, I was scared it would pop right through my stomach. “Who’s hurting you, babe?”
I scoff. “Jesus. You’ll never guess. How are you doing, Meg?”
“I’m alright. Now don’t change the subject. Who’s the bitch, and is she still right there in front of you? Pass the phone and lemme take care of you.”
Tears slide down my cheeks and I sniffle into the sleeve of my sweater. “I miss you, Meg.”
“I miss you too, honey.”
A desperate sob breaks past my lips as my jaw wobbles in an attempt to stop it. “I’m sorry we fought. I was wrong.”
“No. I was wrong. You were in a really dark and shitty time, and I didn’t help. I added stress by being mad at you. You were having a lifetime crisis, Sammy, and I wanted you to come back to town. I laid on the guilt trip about Scotch, but really, it was because I wanted you back. The thing with him was just totally an aside.”
“I wish I didn’t leave.”
“I wish you didn’t, either. But only because I’m a selfish bitch and I wanted to keep you to myself. I ditched town barely a month after you did, because without you, I didn’t wanna be there.”
“I love you, Meg. I’m not sure I ever told you that.”
“Aww, Soda.” She’s not teasing or laughing anymore. Her voice has turned soft and genuine. “I love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that. I was so focused on my own life, I didn’t even try to help you with yours.”
“You did try to help, Meg. You told me I was wrong and to come back, and instead of listening, I got mad and stopped taking your calls…” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Did you know they think I had an abortion?”
Meg pauses on the line, her breathing shallow and light, and the only sound around her is of walking feet and closing doors. “Yeah, babe,” she eventually answers. “You did.”
I choke on a sob and shake my head. “I didn’t, Meg. I didn’t even know that’s why everyone was so mad at me.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. I lost my baby, but my dad told Sam that I aborted.”
“Did you talk to your dad about this recently?”
“No.” I scrub my palm over my face to catch the traitorous tears. “I actually talked to Sam.”
“YOU WHAT?”
I giggle and glance around the kitchen. “Yeah. I’m actually sitting in his apartment right now.”
“You went back? When?”
“Not exactly. I’m in town for personal reasons, and I needed to talk to Sam. He was so fucking angry with me, Meg.”
“Wow. You say ‘fuck’ now?”
I giggle. “Shut up.”
She laughs softly. “Jesus, I’m not complaining. I think it’s adorable the way your body kinda squeaks on the word. It’s like it’s rebelling, but you own that bitch and you make it swear.”
“Meg?”
“Mhm?”
“Shut up.”
She laughs. “Okay, go ahead. You’re in Sam’s house? I feel like you just took me right back to high school.”
“It doesn’t feel like high school. He’s so cold and mean now.”
“To you?” she asks in shock. “No way.”
“Way.” I reach over to the counter and grab the almost empty box of tissues.
“Why are you crying, babe?”
“Because Sam and I had a giant fight yesterday. He told me I aborted our baby. And now I’ve found divorce papers in his kitchen drawer.”
Meg groans. “There’s so much going on in this conversation, my head wants to explode. One, you’re in his house.”
“Apartment.”
“Whatever. Two, I thought you aborted too, hon. That’s what we were all told.”
“I didn’t. I promised him I wouldn’t. Then I miscarried and ended up in the hospital--”
“So why’d you leave?”
“Because my daddy was threatening him! I thought he’d end up in prison, and Marc and Kari would be sent away, and Mr. Turner would lose his job, and Mrs. Turner wouldn’t invite me over for tea anymore.”
“That’s a lot for an emotional and hormonal teenager to deal with.”
I scoff. “I know! So I left, because I’d already lost the baby, and Sam was going to get into trouble anyway. I was trying to protect him.”
“Okay. Soda?”
“Yes, Snitch?”
“I love you.”
A sob bursts past my lips and tears stream down my face. “I don’t think I’ve heard those words since Sam said them thirteen years ago.”
“It’s true. I love you, and even if you were a bitch and stopped taking my calls for a decade, I still love you.”
“I love you too, Meg.”
“We’ll fix it, okay? Me and you. We’ll fix it. But now I have a three.”
“A three?”
“Yeah, like one, you’re in his house.”
“Apartment.”
“Whatever. Two, the abortion thing. Now three, divorce papers. You’re still fucking married? What the hell is the matter with you people? Have you both been having extra-marital affairs? Do you tell the guy pile driving you from behind that your husband probably won’t approve, but that’s okay, because you haven’t seen him in a decade? Does Scotch tell horny bitches to ignore the tan line on his ring finger, because Sammy ain’t home waiting. And wait! Who tried to kick you the other day?”
I giggle. I forgot how amazing Meg is for my soul. “Britt.”
“Who the fuck is--” Meg gasps. “Little Brittany? Scotch’s kid sister?”
“Yup.” I pop the P and study my nails. “She isn’t a kid anymore. She’s a damn psycho, and her husband is hot.”
“She’s married?”
“She has a kid too!”
“A kid? Jesus, Sammy--”
“Yeah, and I didn’t stop and chat, but he’s about four times the size of Lily, so he isn’t a newborn.”
“Who the hell is Lily?”
“My daughter.”
“You have a daughter?”
I laugh as her voice continues to turn up a notch on everything I say. “Lily is a baby girl that I’m trying to adopt. But seeing as I’m still married to fuckface, I need him to help me.” I swear, her ability to make me call Sam a fuckface is cathartic beyond anything I ever expected from this conversation. I should have been calling her all along, not wallowing in my own depression.
“I just… I can’t even with you right now, Sammy.”
“I miss you, Meg.”
“We should have a sleepover.”
I snicker. “Are we gonna sneak out and party and eventually get pregnant?”
“I fucking hope not!”
I sigh nostalgically. “Thank you for being my friend, Snitch.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How’s your life? How’s your hubby? No kids for you?”
“My life is swimming. My hubby is a fuckface too. And hell no! Kids are gross and always have boogers.”
“Lily doesn’t have boogers.”
Meg smiles audibly. “I bet she’s a cutie.”
“She’s beautiful. And she squeaks. Oh my god, Angelo calls her Squeak, and he’s kinda in love with her.”
“You’ve seen all the guys?”
“Yeah. They grew up, Meg. Jesus on a chicken biscuit, they grew up.”
“They look good?”
“They look so good. Angelo still has his long hair. But it’s longer now. And his nose is a tiny bit bent, and he gives the warmest hugs, and his fingers are permanently stained with grease and whatever stuff comes from tinkering with cars all day.”
Meg groans. “Tell me more about his fingers.”
I snort. “You’re a pig. A married pig.”
“A girl can fantasize, and I tell you what, I’ve fantasized about those guys a lot. Sorry not sorry.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“What about Luc? I bet he looks good.” Meg’s voice has taken on a definite purr, and I cackle and feel my stress fade away.
“Well, he’s not underage anymore… Luc is exactly the same as always, but he’s taller and broader, and he wears a uniform in a way I never realized uniforms could be so sexy.”
“A uniform? Please lord, tell me he’s a cop and not a chef. But if he’s a cop, please tell me they don’t let him have a gun.”
“He’s EMS.”
Meg cackles. “No way!”
“Totally true. He’s still Luc – smartass, funny, flirty, crazy. But then he wears that uniform and goes off to save lives. I swear, he’s like Batman and Bruce Banner. I have whiplash.”
“I don’t think that’s right.”
“What?”
“Batman and Br--” She laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Luc has a grown-up job. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me neither! And then there’s Marc. He’s still a grumpy jerk--”
“Wow. Big surprise there.”
“Yeah, but he’s hot. And now that I know you all think I aborted, I can see why he’s extra mad at me.”
“Marc’s a dick, Sammy. Don’t let his attitude upset you. He’s gonna be a lonely old man whacking off into tube socks because no chick with half a brain will hang around him for more than five minutes after he opens his mouth.”
I laugh. “He’s actually really sweet… when he likes you. But if you aren’t in his circle, then you’re dead to him.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I never wasted too much time wanting to be in his circle.”
“Still bitter about that?”
“Yup.”
We both laugh, and I continue to roll the paper on the table in front of me. “This is nice.”
“Yeah, it is. Thank you for calling me.”
“Thank you for taking my call.”
“So what are you doing now?”
“I’m sitting at Sam’s kitchen table, staring at a stack of papers that have the word ‘divorce’ written on them.”
“Are you gonna sign them?”
“Yup. I needed a friend first, so that’s why I called.”
“I’m here for you, babe. Grab that pen and make it your bitch.”
“What about Lily?”
“How far are you in the process of adoption?”
“We’re a little over a month away from it being finalized, I think.”
“How long have you had her?”
“Since the day she was born. Since before that, even.”
“Where are her folks?”
“Deceased.”
Meg sighs. “The state wants you to have her, Sammy. You’re a good person, and they know that – otherwise they would have taken her already. People divorce all the time. This is the land of quitters, and divorce is almost as easy as getting married in Vegas. Just let him go, babe. Shake him off, adopt her by yourself. Move up here and we can live in a commune together and never wear bras again.”
“I really wanna do that, Meg.”
“Adopt her alone? You can. I’ll help you. I know loads of lawyers.”
“No,” I laugh. “The no bra thing. The adopting Lily thing, too.”
Meg snickers. “We can do both. I promise. I’ll help you.”
***
Meg and I say goodbye about twenty minutes later, then sitting at the table, I don’t move a muscle until fifteen minutes before Lily is due to wake. I simply stare at the seemingly inoffensive papers in front of me, and I click the pen in my hand.
I laughed and I cried with Meg. She gave me half an hour of reprieve from real life, but once we hung up, reality slammed back down on top of me, like I’m living hell week and they’ve stacked hundreds of pounds of wet sand on my shoulders and expect me to get up and keep fighting.
I feel like from the day the doctor told me in the hospital that I lost my baby, right through to today, has been one single long ass day that just won’t end. I want it to end. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t survive in my half in, half out world.
Picking up the pen, I decide I’m officially tapping out.
I lose.
I just hope Lily will still be mine when this is all done.