Chapter Seven #2
“And I’m sorry, Sam.” She waved her hand around in an expansive gesture. “For telling everyone. For the things I said about you.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know if it makes you feel any better, but not very many people listened.”
Sam tilted her head and looked at her. “Well, Alex did call me the golden child of Hicksville…”
Nadine’s shoulders shook as she let out a soft chuckle. “Sam,” she admonished. “You always knew the right thing to say.”
“And the right time to say it,” Sam agreed, the corner of her mouth lifting in a small smile.
Nadine turned in her chair and took Sam’s hand in her own. “Sam.” Her voice was firm. “There is no excuse for how I treated you back then. Absolutely none.” The expression on her face was one of pain. “The things I said to you…” She looked out into the distance. “I’ll never forgive myself.”
Sam sat quietly for a long minute, her jaw working as she thought about Nadine’s words.
She had never expected to receive an apology from Nadine Weaver.
But as she had told Jordan, she was tired of the resentment and bitterness she had carried with her all this time.
Watching her mother come to terms with her mortality over the past year had taught Sam that life was too short to hold grudges.
She reached over and placed her other hand on Nadine’s.
“You’re right,” she agreed. “There isn’t.” Nadine frowned and went to move her hand away. Sam squeezed it more firmly. “I understand how one moment can change how you feel about everything. That can either be a good thing. Or it can be devastating. With me, and with me and Alex, it was both.”
“I am so sorry, Sam.” Nadine looked down at their joined hands. “For everything.”
“I know,” Sam said softly. She stared off into the distance. “I’m not going to lie and say it’s okay.”
Nadine shook her head. “I don’t expect you to.”
“Jordan wouldn’t let me live it down if I let you off that easily.” Sam pulled her hand away.
“Jordan Davies!” Nadine barked a laugh. “That boy did a good job of making my life hell. I think I always let him get away with it because I knew deep down that I deserved it.”
“He is fiercely loyal,” Sam agreed. She laughed as she recalled some of Jordan’s antics.
He had refused to wait on Nadine in the grocery store, papered the Weavers’ oak tree with rainbow-colored toilet paper, and sneaked an inflatable unicorn floatie into their pool.
Jordan was something else. He really was the best of friends.
“Honey, it took me years to develop his courage and convictions. I have nothing but respect for that. You should bring him around for Sunday dinner sometime.” Nadine’s eyes twinkled. “Maybe it’s about time he and I buried that hatchet.”
At the sound of the front door opening, both women turned. Alex peeked her head around the corner, concern visible on her face. “Everything okay out here?” She looked from Sam to her mother and then back again.
Sam and Nadine shared a look. “It’s not quite,” Sam said honestly. She rose to her feet and looked down at Nadine. “But it’s getting there. Maybe we just start with dinner?” she said to the older woman. “I was told there would be pie.”
Nadine chuckled as she rose to her feet as well. “You always did love pie.” She made her way over to the door and squeezed past her daughter. “I’ll go and finish a few things up.”
Alex stepped out of the house and joined Sam on the porch. “Is everything okay?” Her tone was soft, and concern was visible on her face.
“I think it will be,” Sam said after a minute. “I appreciate her apology. I know that wasn’t easy for her.”
“She’s been waiting quite a while to give it to you.”
“And you?” Sam challenged.
“I…” Alex paused. Her eyes looked everywhere except at Sam, and a light blush dusted her cheeks.
“Mom!” Sophie’s voice came from inside the house. “Dinner!”
Sam waited another moment to see if Alex would say anything else, but it was clear that the moment had passed.
“Come on.” She walked toward Alex and then, like Nadine, squeezed past her into the house.
Only she did so without allowing any part of her body to touch Alex’s.
She saw Alex close her eyes and felt her sigh deeply as she passed.
Behind her, she heard the door shut as Alex turned and followed her in.
“Sammie!” Tim Weaver’s voice boomed as he came through the screen door leading out to the Weavers’ poolside patio.
He set down the beer he was carrying and went to where Sam stood awkwardly in the kitchen.
His big frame enveloped her in a bear hug, which she returned after a moment of surprise.
Mr. Weaver had always given great hugs. To Sam, who was raised by her single mother, he was the closest thing she had had to a father figure. She felt her eyes sting with tears.
After a long moment, he released her but held her at arm’s length, with a hand on each of her shoulders. “It’s terrific to see you.” His tone was sincere, and he looked her straight in the eyes.
“You too, Mr. T,” Sam said, using the nickname she had given him in high school. He had always wanted her to call him “Tim,” but Sam was too polite for that. She chose to compromise by coming up with the “Mr. T” moniker.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Tim tilted his head toward his wife. “Nadine cooked enough to feed a small army.”
“Shush, you.” Nadine swatted at him with a towel.
“She always did,” Sam said and shook her head.
Dinner turned out to be more enjoyable than she had expected. Nadine was a fantastic cook, and it had been a long time since Sam had had a home-cooked meal. Of course, she would have preferred her mother’s cooking, but Nadine’s had always come in a close second.
The Weavers were polite and chatty, and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.
She found herself readily exchanging the details of the past dozen years of her life.
She told them all about college, her travels, and her life in Boston.
She relayed the story of her mother’s illness and what she had gone through in those last months, and since then.
Mr. T chimed in with a few details about their other daughter, Casey, whom Sam had helped coach in JV volleyball when they were in school.
Despite her initial reservations, Sam found herself doing a lot of the talking.
It wasn’t lost on her that no one seemed to speak of what had happened in Alex’s life during the same period, nor did they talk about what had brought her back to Hicksville.
Sam was curious, but she wasn’t going to push. Alex would tell her when she was ready.
Sophie turned out to be the absolute highlight of the night. Sam found herself enjoying the precocious little girl who seemed to have no qualms about saying whatever came to mind. After the meal, she offered to help clean up the dishes and followed Sam and Alex into the kitchen.
“How exactly do you know my mommy?” Sophie demanded as soon as her grandparents left the room. She studied Sam suspiciously.
“Soph…” Alex warned.
“No,” Sam interrupted, laughing. “It’s okay.
” She turned to face Sophie. “Your mother and I were friends in high school.” She looked back at Alex and shrugged.
Sometimes, the simplest explanation was the best one.
And they had been friends. She doubted Sophie would understand anything that happened between them beyond that. Besides, that wasn’t her story to tell.
“Were you best friends, or just sort of maybe friends?” Sophie still seemed skeptical.
“I think we were a little close, yeah.” Sam felt her face redden as she looked over to Alex for help, who had turned red and was fighting a laugh behind a dish towel.
“Then how come she’s never talked about you?” For an eight-year-old, Sophie was a little bit relentless. The girl had a career in law enforcement if she wanted one.
“Does she talk about all her friends?” Sam waited while the young girl pondered the question.
“I guess not,” Sophie relented.
“Maybe she’ll talk about me now that you and I have met.” Sam looked at Alex, who had a slight twinkle in her eye.
“Maybe,” Alex murmured, catching Sam’s gaze and holding it. After a long second, she turned to her daughter, “Come on, squirt. It’s bedtime.”
“But Mom…” Sophie dragged the word out over several syllables. “We didn’t even get to play.”
“I know, I know,” Alex agreed. “But it’s late, and you wasted all your playtime interviewing Sam.” She stood behind the girl and shooed her toward the door. “Come on. Pajamas. I’ll be up in five.”
Sophie stood, looking from Sam to her mother and back again. “Fine,” she said curtly, then turned and bounded up the stairs.
Both Sam and Alex watched her go, Alex with a wry smile on her face. “I swear, she gets sassier every day.”
Sam laughed. “She has a career in the CIA if she wants one. Maybe the FBI.”
“She’s been a bit intense since things with her father.” Alex looked down at her hands. “It hasn’t been easy on her.”
“I imagine not.” Sam was curious. She hesitated for a minute before her next sentence. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”
Alex looked up at her sharply. “I…” She struggled. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Sam, I…”
Whatever she was going to say, she didn’t have time to finish the sentence. “Mom!” Sophie’s voice cut in from upstairs. “It’s story time!”
Sam watched as Alex closed her eyes and slowly inhaled. “Will you stay?” Her eyes, when they met Sam’s, were pleading. “After I put her to bed, maybe we can have a drink on the patio and talk?”
Sam weighed her options. For years, all she wanted was answers to what had happened to them.
Now, looking at the woman before her, Sam wasn’t sure she was ready for them.
Being with Alex tonight felt warm and familiar.
Sam worried that whatever came out of Alex’s mouth had the potential to ruin that.
“Mom!” Sophie yelled again, breaking the spell.