Chapter 8
SAM
Sam eased onto her bed, gazing up at the ceiling.
She would explore the contents of her notepad again in the morning, when she had more energy, but for tonight, she would just let her imagination take hold.
If anything came up, she could always add it to the list. It had always been one of the easiest methods for her to come up with story ideas anyway, so she didn’t think a romance would be that much different.
When another idea happened to pop in to her head, she swiftly sat up, reaching for her notepad on the bedside table to jot down a few simplistic notes.
It hadn’t been that long since she’d gotten back to her place after dinner with Charlie, leaving the evening young for her to kick back and relax for the remainder of the night.
It had been a particularly interesting encounter on the bus with the sniffer—as Charlie had not-so-affectionately nicknamed him—so he refused to let her take the bus home at night whenever they went out for dinner.
It had stirred up more than one argument in the past whenever Sam tried to agree on the condition that she gave him money for gas, which he steadily refused every time.
But Charlie was persistent when it came to this kind of thing.
So, tonight was no different. Logically, she’d known it would make no sense and that it would be stupid to refuse him since they lived only a few floors apart from one another, but the little voice in the back of her mind tried to argue.
And unless she wanted to tell Charlie the real reason why she was hesitant to get another car, she knew she needed to just suck it up and accept the help when he offered it.
If it were anyone else that acted the way he did, whenever he had any inkling that trouble was afoot, she would tell them to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. She’d been taking care of herself since she was young, so she didn’t need anyone trying to baby her now.
But with Charlie, it was different.
Deep down, she knew that he was only trying to look out for her. She was his best friend too. If the roles were reversed, she’d be the same way. But, at the same time, it was that very reason why there were certain parts of her life she couldn’t share with anyone right now.
Even Charlie…
Especially Charlie.
Fully engaged with the most recent idea she’d come up with, reality rang to life when her phone chimed next to her. She picked it up and glanced at the caller ID, suppressing a groan as she did.
The fact that her aunt even bothered to call at all usually was signal enough that she probably needed something.
Part of her wanted to ignore it, let it go to voicemail for her to deal with later.
She had been in such a good mood with everything else that she hated to spoil it, but she knew she would have to deal with her at some point.
Her aunt could be very persistent when she needed something, and so, she decided to get it over with.
She adjusted her position on the bed, sitting up and leaning back against the wall to make herself more comfortable.
“Hey, Aunt Emily,” she said, trying to force some enthusiasm into her voice but failing.
“Hello Samantha,” Her aunt chirped happily on the other end, her name fully enunciated with an over-exaggerated ‘uh’ sound at the end.
The word foreign on her aunt’s tongue, as if it tasted bitter with the lack of use.
Then again, with how often they spoke these days, it wasn’t too surprising.
“I’m just calling to check in and see how you’re doing.
I was talking to someone the other day about that last book you wrote…
Oh, what was it? That one you published last year…
I think it was a mystery or something, right? ”
Sam blinked a few times, surprised. “It was the last book in my mystery series, yes.”
“Ah, that’s the one! Anyway, we were talking about that, and I realized I hadn’t talked to you in a while. How are you doing? I hope you’re well.”
“I’m a little surprised you were talking about my books at all… But I’m doing alright. How about you?”
“Oh, we’re doing just splendidly! Thanks for asking. And why wouldn’t we talk about your books, dear?” her aunt hummed excitedly on the other end.
Sam blinked a few times. Her books? Dear? Okay, something was definitely up.
“Well, considering how our last conversation on my work went…” Sam started, trailing off at the end as the memory of that conversation already had heat prickling her skin. It had been a few years since that conversation, but even remembering it was enough to make her want to hang up.
Her aunt laughed, somehow sounding posh, as if she were trying to embody a golf clap in the sound. “Oh, that was so long ago I’m surprised you even remember that.”
“It was a pretty memorable one considering that you told me to never bring the topic up again because you didn’t want to be reminded of…
Oh, how was it that you put it…?” Sam mulled the memory around in her mind for a moment before finding the exact words.
“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t want to be reminded that the niece you practically raised was chasing such a pipe dream, and you said that I needed to get a real job if I didn’t want to end up on the streets, whoring myself out for rent. ”
“Oh, dear, you exaggerate, and don’t be so crass. You know how much I hate it when you use bad language like that.”
It was the ultimate irony that her own words were considered bad language, but Sam decided against fighting her on it. She’d never win that debate anyway.
“We haven’t spoken in months, Aunt Emily. What do you want? You never call me these days unless you need me to do something.”
The dissatisfied click of her aunt’s tongue felt momentarily satisfying before she spoke. “Did my sister not teach you any manners before she died? How dare you speak to me that way!”
It felt like a punch in the gut, one that consistently subdued her, even when she didn’t mean for it to. It was more effective than a slap across the face.
“Sorry.”
“That’s better. You might have only been six when they died, but I know my sister taught you better than to talk me that way.
I know I taught you better than that,” Aunt Emily snapped.
“Took you in when no one else would, sheltered you, put a roof over your head, made sure you had the best education. And what did you do with it? Wasted it on an English degree.”
There’s the Aunt Emily she lived with for all those years. It was no wonder she spent most of her time over at Charlie’s house growing up.
Her aunt continued, the words tumbling unrestrained out of her mouth. “To think that Tommy ever looked up to you and wanted to be anything like his older cousin is beyond me, with how you’ve turned out.”
Yes, she wanted to say, what an angel that menace of a cousin was. The one who reveled in the fact that he could do no wrong, while anything that ever did go wrong at home instantly became her fault.
A fact he eagerly exploited more than once.
The word vomit didn’t stop there as her aunt simply took a quick breath and continued. “So ungrateful for everything we’ve ever given you and you…”
Sam lifted the phone away from her ear and held it out, letting her aunt continue with her rant as she placed the phone on the nightstand and went to grab the cup of water she’d placed there earlier.
She took a couple of healthy sips to satiate her throat, which had started to feel like the Sahara desert.
Once her throat didn’t feel like it was constricting in on itself, she picked the phone back up. Her aunt was continuing to rant on the other end until Sam finally let out a heavy sigh.
“Are you finished?”
Her aunt paused mid-sentence, and the sound that reverberated from the other end of the phone could only be described as pure disgust. “You haven’t changed one bit!
Here I was hoping to have a civilized conversation with my niece and ask to help her participate in something exciting with the family, but I guess I was just dreaming that you would ever be anything but nasty about it. ”
Sam sank back into her spot. Ah, there it is.
There was a reason for the call, but the reins on Sam’s own temper felt pulled taut as she steadied herself to take a deep breath in.
If there had been anything she’d learned over the years, it was that engaging in a screaming match with her aunt wouldn’t accomplish anything other than ruining her day.
“After you’ve just spent however long it’s been insulting me? Forgive me if I’m not leaping with joy.”
“What an ungrateful, useless—” Her aunt hissed before the line went dead.
Rain clouds veiled the setting sun, getting rid of the little light that had been warming her apartment. A chill settled through her limbs, brought on both by the encroaching storm and the dread stirred up by her conversation.
It wouldn’t be the last time she heard from Aunt Emily, especially if she actually did need something.
Forcing the thoughts from her mind, she flicked on the lamp next to her bed to prevent being totally swallowed up by the darkness.
Despite the outrageously expensive rent, she loved her little one-bedroom apartment.
The floor-to-ceiling windows lining the outer wall captured the sunlight at the perfect angle, allowing swaths of natural light into the space.
Not to mention the spectacular view of downtown Durham.
The merging of modern high-rise buildings bleeding into the backdrop of the rustic brick buildings from a time past was uniquely beautiful in a way that always made her glad that she lived there.
Her stomach grumbled again, hunger rearing its head once more even after the meal earlier that evening. She sat up and walked over to search the contents of her refrigerator, making a mental note as she did that she needed to grab some groceries soon.