Chapter Seven #3
“Coming, honey!” Alex called back, still looking expectantly at Sam.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Sam was surprised by the words that came out of her mouth, but once she said them, she knew it was the right decision. “I should be getting home.”
Alex’s face fell. “Oh, okay,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment.
“You head up to Sophie,” Sam said. “I’ll say goodbye to your parents and see myself out.”
Alex looked at her for a moment. Then she came around the table.
Before Sam could stop her, she pulled her close for a hug.
Sam stiffened as she felt every piece of Alex’s body press into hers.
If Alex sensed her discomfort, she did nothing to show it.
Instead, she seemed to move closer. Her inhale picked up Alex’s familiar, comforting scent, forcing her body to relax.
Eventually, she lifted her arms to hug Alex back, but it was already over.
Alex’s arms were already sliding down the length of hers.
When Alex reached her hands, she squeezed them gently and backed away.
Her head was down, and she refused to meet Sam’s eyes as she turned and walked up the stairs.
Sam watched her go, unsure of what to do or say. When she heard a door click open upstairs, she sighed heavily and let her shoulders sag. She was tired. The night had been a lot to take in.
After stopping in the living room to say a quick good night to Alex’s parents, she got into her car and drove home.
The house was dark when she pulled into the drive, and for some reason, it was then that the finality of her mother’s passing chose to hit her like a punch to the gut.
It came at the strangest times. At night, the house looked so stark and lonely, where it had seemed to embody her mother’s spirit before.
Sam dreaded going inside. She dreaded being alone in that house.
Her mother wasn’t there. She would never be there again.
She laid her head against the steering wheel as her body was racked with silent sobs.
Sam didn’t know how long she stayed that way.
It could have been five minutes or five hours.
When she heard her phone buzz, she lifted her head and looked blearily around her.
Her neck hurt, and her eyes were swollen.
She lifted the phone from the cup holder and saw that Alex had sent a text.
She squinted at the screen, her eyes puffy from crying.
Thanks for coming tonight. Sleep tight.
Sam stared at the phone, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, several possible responses running through her head.
But none of them seemed right for what had happened that day.
She looked up from the phone to the empty house, trying to formulate a response.
Finally, she thought better of it. She wasn’t yet sure where she wanted this revived relationship to go.
She flipped through her contacts and hit the button to FaceTime Jordan. She smiled when his handsome face filled the screen. Over his shoulder, she noticed someone else and wondered if he was on a date.
“Well?” he asked, shifting the phone.
“She said she was sorry.” Sam shrugged.
“She did what?” Jordan’s voice was incredulous. “Nadine-effing-Weaver actually apologized?” Jordan dramatically flung out his arms, dropping the phone, so that Sam got a nice view of the ceiling of wherever he was. “Well, we’re doomed. Hell has officially frozen over. Get your go bag ready.”
He was entertaining, Sam would give him that. “She even told me to bring you around next time I go over for Sunday dinner,” she said, fighting a smile at his reaction. “She wants to bury the hatchet.” At Jordan’s skeptical look, Sam held her hand up. “Those were her words, not mine.”
“Yeah, she’ll be burying that hatchet right in the back of my head,” Jordan quipped. “But what’s this about a next time?” he asked, making air quotes for emphasis.
Sam sighed. She knew this had been coming, yet she still wasn’t prepared to answer it.
She hadn’t fully allowed herself to think about it, once again putting off processing the events of the night.
How could she explain it to Jordan? Being with the Weavers and having Sunday dinner just like they always had felt like a second coming home.
With her mother gone, she had no one else to turn to.
Yes, a few uncles were around, but they had never really cared for Sam.
Their disapproval only grew after Sam had been outed. She didn’t really have anyone else.
“I don’t know, Jordan,” she said, honestly. “It was…nice.”
“Mm-hmm.” His look turned knowing. “Nice,” he parroted. “Chocolate is nice. Puppies are nice. Lots of things are nice.” He gave her a long look. “I know I encouraged you to get close to her, but be careful, okay?”
“I will,” Sam reassured him. He turned his head and said something to someone next to him, so Sam quickly said her goodbyes and disconnected the call. After another long moment, she got out of the car and made her way into the empty house.