Chapter Five
Sammy
Waking up before the sun hadn’t been my plan, but I didn’t pretend to go back to sleep. I wouldn’t be able to, because the second my eyes opened, the plan for the day kept going through my head. I was running on fumes, and the day hadn’t started yet.
I was grateful to the person hired to keep an eye on this place.
They made sure the water was good to go, that the hot water tank was up and running, and surprisingly, the refrigerator was plugged in.
I wouldn’t exactly call it down to temperature, but it was enough that I was able to throw my drinks in there yesterday.
Starting the long hot shower helped a lot. As a kid, I’d have to go really fast because the showers would be one after another, and it would run out. It was only me now, though, and I needed it to wake my body up as much as my brain.
I kicked myself for not having any coffee and took a soda out of the fridge.
It was the only caffeine I was going to get, and I guzzled it down, my stomach instantly rebelling.
I should’ve eaten first. I grumbled and grabbed a couple pieces of bread and slathered it with the peanut butter I brought with me.
Hardly delicious, but it did help settle my queasiness.
First on my mental list was opening Grandpa’s room. There was no mandatory order to any of this, although starting with the kitchen would make the place more livable. But if I didn’t open that room up first, it was gonna weigh on me all day.
“I can do this.” I grabbed CB. “You’re going to stand by my side, right?” I made him nod and opened the door. Just like all the other rooms, it needed some air, but I couldn’t take that first step to get to the window. Looking around, it was like he had never left.
“Hey, Grandpa, I need to come in. Your room kind of stinks.” If he was there, he’d chuckle and go open the window himself and tell me that no, it was me who stank, but he wasn’t there. Knowing that, gave me the strength to do it for him.
I didn’t stay in the room long—I couldn’t—but it was a first step, and it would make the rest of the day easier.
Another trip to the car later, I came back in with my box of cleaning supplies. I hadn’t been sure what I’d find here at the store. After seeing the prices, I was glad for my choices.
“Kitchen cleaning, it is.” There was something therapeutic about scrubbing.
I started with the counters, the cabinets, the floors, wiped down the inside of the refrigerator and set a large box of baking soda inside, and then it was time for the dishes—all of them.
There weren’t a lot, a set of four of most things, but a lot more mugs, seven of them with some version of Grandpa on them.
When I was in elementary school, we had a present fair every Christmas where kids could pick out something for their parents.
For some reason, I thought my grandpa needed a mug every year from kindergarten through grade six.
He was the one cheering loudest at my sixth-grade graduation, and, looking back, it was probably because he knew he wasn’t going to get any more mugs.
I kept my favorite one out to use during my stay.
I was feeling pretty good about the kitchen when there was a knock at the door.
I assumed it was the person who kept an eye on this place, but when I swung it over, standing there was a man who looked a whole lot of city and not a lot of middle of nowhere.
I mean, that wasn’t fair. I was judging him, but it was either that or stare like I did the daddies at Chained on the few nights I’d gone alone.
I’d gawk from a distance, wanting to be brave enough to talk to them.
I was much braver when Rowan and now Brock went with me, but with work being hectic, it was getting rarer and rarer that I made it out there.
“I hate to bother you, but I’m here fishing with friends, and I think I have found your boat,” he said.
“Why would you have my boat?” Wait? Did I have a boat? It was one of the things I hadn’t bothered to check when I got here. If anything was going to be stolen by my shitty relatives, it would be the boat.
“Long story short, it ran away from home,” he teased.
“What?” I was so confused.
“What I mean is, it broke away. Come look. I think it’s yours.”
“Yeah, okay.” Not trying to be rude, I was trying to figure out what was going on. He walked me down to the docks. Sure enough, it was mine.
“Is this your boat?”
“Yeah. Well, it’s my grandpa’s, but yeah, it’s mine now.” I’d had this place one day, and I had already lost his beloved boat. Great.
“Let me show you how to store it better.”
I tried to figure out why it had been in the water in the first place. There was no way it would’ve been there for years and not been ruined. Ultimately, I decided the caretaker did it as a favor. While coming to that conclusion, I missed the entire lesson by the hottie.
“I’m Will, by the way.”
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. Sammy.” Awkward much?
“Storm keep you up last night?”
“The storm and being here, I just…this was my grandpa’s place, and now it’s mine, and you don’t need to hear all that.”
“Maybe I don’t need to hear it all, but I don’t mind listening.” And he sounded like he meant it.
I told him way more than he wanted to hear about my cousins. Cousins, and my mother’s side of the family, and how they wanted me to get rid of this place, and how I didn’t want to, and he was so sweet, listening like it mattered.
“I’ll walk you back,” he said, and I nodded, and that made three things, make that four things that told me maybe he was a daddy.
He didn’t scold me. He taught me how to store the boat.
He listened intently without walking over me as I shared about the cabin, and then he walked me back even though you could see it from where we stood.
“This is gonna sound—” Maybe this wasn’t the place to bring up something like daddies with a stranger, but his eyes softened.
“You can keep going. There’s nothing you can say that’s going to upset me, unless you tell me a serial killer—that might work.”
His gentle smile gave me the courage to continue. “You mentioned when I was talking about the cabin that you’re here with a bunch of friends fishing.” It wasn’t until I got the daddy vibes that I started to piece together that he might be here with my friend.
“That’s the plan.”
“Is someone named Rowan there?”
“Yeah, you know him?”
“He’s my friend, so does that mean you’re a daddy?” I couldn’t see him as a little, but who was I to judge?
“You’re that Sammy.”
I nodded, not wanting to ask what that meant in this context and moving away from the direction I wanted this conversation to be headed.
“That’s what you were nervous about asking me.”
“No, that was just me making sure before I asked…are you a daddy?”
“I am, and before you ask, no, I don’t have a little right now.”
I loved how he was making this easier for me because, at that point, just existing at this lake was difficult.
“Then maybe could you pretend to be my daddy and help me get through this at the cabin. I can pay you. I’m not asking for free labor.” I spoke a mile a minute, not wanting to chicken out.
“I absolutely can and will do this, but only if you promise not to pay me,” he answered immediately. “That wouldn’t feel right. Those are my conditions.”
“We’ll talk about money later,” I grumbled and started off again.