Chapter Two #2
“Your mom?” Sam was more than confused. “Made me pie?” She sat on one of the stools across from Alex at the kitchen island.
The last time she had spoken to Nadine Weaver—or, more accurately, had been spoken to by Nadine Weaver—it hadn’t been about pie.
It was to tell her to get out of her house and stay the hell away from her daughter.
Sam wondered if that conversation still haunted Alex the way it did her.
“She wanted to offer something after your mom passed, but you didn’t stick around long enough after the funeral…” She shrugged. “I think she just wanted to do something for you. To tell you how sorry she was. How sorry we all were.”
Silence stretched between them. Sam studied Alex’s face.
Again, she was struck by how much she still looked the same yet appeared fundamentally different.
The same naturally long lashes fringed those ice-blue eyes, but small, fine lines fanned out from the corners, and the skin underneath them held a slight tinge of blue.
The fair skin of her nose and cheeks was dusted by a few more freckles than Sam remembered, but it still looked just as soft and smooth.
Sam would not let herself look lower at Alex’s mouth.
She had vivid memories of those lips and had probably spent hours thinking about them.
She knew they’d be the same shade of dusty rose, the lower one just as full.
Under her scrutiny, Alex’s face slowly turned into a deeper variation of pink than she had shown on the porch. Sam mentally kicked herself for staring. But why did the woman still have to be so damn beautiful?
Breaking Sam’s gaze, Alex returned to fixing her coffee. She added another bit of sugar, stirring it very, very slowly. When she was done, she sat opposite Sam. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sam swallowed thickly and closed her eyes, steeling herself against the memories.
It had been a month since her mother passed, but the emotions were still so fresh.
She still felt so raw, so lost…so alone.
Could she share that with Alex? The pain she felt at her mother’s death was so intense and like nothing she had ever felt before.
The pain Alex had caused had been surprisingly similar, though not as sharp.
But it had been like a death of another sort, the death of a relationship.
And it had happened just as suddenly, changing her life almost overnight.
Sam shook her head, clearing it of the past. “No offense,” she said, leaning back in her chair, trying to create a little bit of space.
“But if I wanted to talk about it, you would be close to the last person I’d seek out.
” She pushed the box of pie across the table. “And I don’t want your mother’s pie.”
Alex flinched, then looked down into her mug. “I guess I deserve that,” she said.
Sam scoffed and got up from the table to stand by the sink.
She put her hands on the counter and looked out of the window, counting slowly in her head.
Space. She needed space. Alex was here—Alex, who likely still knew her better than anyone.
She couldn’t deal with that. She had enough on her plate at the moment.
She didn’t need to add another side dish.
Finally, she turned around to face Alex, who was still sitting at the table. “And what about what I deserve?” She fought to hide the bitterness she felt. “It’s been years, Alex.”
Alex dropped her head into her hands and let out a sigh of frustration. “I know,” she said, looking up to meet Sam’s eyes. “And I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, but sorry for what?” Sam leaned against the counter, waiting.
Alex held up her hands, as if in surrender, fingers splayed as if trying to catch an invisible thought.
Her lips parted, maybe the beginning of an explanation forming, but then something flickered across her face—a memory, or perhaps just better judgment.
She pressed her mouth closed again, the corners turning down in a frown.
“Sam.” Alex’s voice held a pleading note. She stood up from the table.
“You know what.” Sam cut her off before she could make a move toward her. She turned around to dump her remaining coffee into the sink. “Never mind.”
“Sam? Could we maybe talk?” Alex tried again. “Not now,” she added hastily at the expression on Sam’s face. “But at some point, while you’re home.” She risked a glance up at her.
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
Alex looked at her for a long time, chewing on her lower lip.
Sam kicked herself as her eyes strayed to catch the action.
After a moment, Alex seemed to make a decision and walked over to pick Sam’s cell phone up off the counter.
She fiddled with it for a moment while Sam watched.
“There,” she said, placing the phone back on the counter.
“Now you have my number.” Sam heard a faint ping from Alex’s bag. “And I have yours.”
Sam gave her a look but didn’t say anything.
After another long moment, Alex took a deep breath and nodded slightly. Sam watched as she walked to the sink and rinsed her coffee cup. When she was done, Alex turned to face her, leaning back against the sink. Why, after all this time, did she still look like she belonged in her kitchen?
Alex’s voice broke her out of her thoughts.
“At least think about it.” She grabbed her bag and the box, then walked past Sam, heading for the door.
Sam sat for a minute, wondering if she should see her out.
By the time she made up her mind, Alex was calling out a goodbye. The door clicked, and she was gone.