Sam put a hand on her shoulder. “No, ma’am. We’re all fine with it as is, aren’t we, guys?”
“Sit here,” Kate said, pointing to the place where she usually sat. “I’ll get another place setting and join you.”
Sam sat, still holding Sammy. “Everything sure smells good,” Sam said softly. “I’ll bet you’re hungry, too.”
Sammy nodded, then crawled out of Sam’s lap and back into his chair. But he didn’t seem to be able to focus on food, even though Kate helped him fill his plate. He kept staring at Sam over and over until finally Kate intervened.
“Eat, Sammy. He’s not going to disappear.” Then she eyed Sam closely, as if daring him to make a liar out of her.
“She’s right,” Sam said. “I’m going to get a room in a motel and I’m not leaving this town. I’ve been looking for a very long time. Why would I leave? You also have a grandmother who’s anxious to meet you.”
“She is?” Sammy asked, and then turned to Pete with the first hint of excitement in his voice. “I have a grandma, too, Pete. How about that?”
They finally finished the meal, but not without Sam answering a thousand questions in between bites. Sam couldn’t quit looking at Sammy. He saw himself in the boy, but he also saw Libby in the easy way he laughed and the way he tilted his head to the side when he was
listening. He knew he was going to have to leave him soon. The boys had school tomorrow and he needed to find a motel. But not until he went back to the hospital to see Libby. He and the boys were helping clear the table when he brought up the subject of a motel again.
“Mrs. Wyatt, do you—”
Kate sighed. “You might as well call me Kate, since it appears you’re going to be part of the family.” Sam smiled, and for the first time, Kate saw what a handsome man Sam Holt really was. “You should do that more often,” she added.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Smile.”
Sam’s smile slipped. “Up until today, I haven’t had a whole lot to smile about. So, down to business. Could you recommend a motel?”
Sammy bolted toward Sam from across the room and grabbed him by the hand.
“You can stay at our house,” he cried, looking to Kate for backup. “Mama would want him to stay at our house.”
“I don’t know,” Kate said.
“No, Sammy. I don’t think that would be right,” Sam said.
“You have to!” Sammy wailed. “I have to stay here until Mama is better, but you should stay at our house. You can sleep in Mama’s bed. Sometimes I sleep with her if it thunders.” He frowned, then ducked his head, as if he’d admitted to something babyish. “I don’t like thunderstorms,” he muttered.
“Shoot, Sammy. It’s nothing but a little noise,” Sam said. “You know what my grandpa used to say about thunder?”
Sammy’s eyes widened as he considered, for the first time in his life, what it meant to have an extended family.
“No, what did he say?” Sammy asked.
“I used to be scared of thunder, too, then Granddaddy told me it was just God poking holes in the clouds so the rain would fall. After that, I wasn’t scared anymore.”
“Really?” Sammy asked.
“Really.”
No wonder Libby Farraday had fallen for this man, Kate thought.
“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in staying at Libby’s house,” she said. “But you keep it clean, now. Libby doesn’t like mess in her house, you hear?”
Sam nodded. “I know all about that,” he said. “I caught her mopping the floor at midnight one night when I came in late from work. She lit into me for tracking on her clean floor. After that, I pulled my boots off at the door.”
Sammy giggled.
Everyone stared. Sam didn’t know it was the first time in three weeks that Sammy Farraday had laughed, but he could tell by the look on Kate’s face that whatever had happened was a good thing.
“So, does anyone have a key to the house?”
“I do,” Kate said, opened a cabinet door and then took a small gold key off a hook inside. “Don’t make me regret this,” she muttered.
Sam took the key, and then laid his hand on Kate’s shoulder. “I know I’m a stranger to you, but I hope that will soon pass. It’s obvious you’re a very important person in Libby and Sammy’s lives. They are very blessed that they have you.”
“Well, then,” Kate muttered, took off her apron and hung it on a door knob. “Boys…load up in the car. Mister…. I mean, Sam can follow us over to Libby’s house. Sammy can show him where everything is, and then we’ll come back and let him get some rest.”
“I appreciate it,” he said, and within minutes, he was back in the car.
He waited until Kate backed out of the driveway, then followed her up the street. He couldn’t help but notice that Sammy had climbed out of his seat belt and was on his knees, staring out the back window. Obviously afraid to lose sight of him for fear he’d disappear from his life as quickly as he’d come in.
“Don’t you worry,” Sam said, more to himself than to the boy in the car ahead of him. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” He then waved to reassure Sammy.
When Sammy grinned and waved back, Sam knew his life would never be the same. One bridge had been crossed successfully. He’d met his son, who was obviously willing to forge a relationship. Now all he had to do was get Libby well and convince her he was no longer the sorry jerk he’d once been.
K
ATE AND THE BOYS
stayed at Libby’s house long enough for Sammy to give Sam a personal tour.
“Wanna see my room?” Sammy asked. He didn’t wait for an answer as he bolted past Sam and led him down a small hall. “I like
Star Wars,
” he said, as he opened a door and turned on the lights.
Sam grinned at the assortment of Starfighters hanging from the ceiling with fishing line, giving them the appearance of “hovering” in outer space. There were posters of Han Solo and Yoda on the walls and a small stash of toy light sabers in a waste basket that was being used as a storage bin.
“Look!” Sammy said, as he grabbed one of the light sabers from the basket and punched a button. It immediately lit a bright, pulsing green, and when Sammy swung it, the accompanying sound effects came with it. “Mama got me this stuff for my birthday,” he added.
“That’s pretty awesome,” Sam said.
“And look at my Darth Vader cape and mask! Mama made the cape but we bought the mask with my can money.”
“Your can money? What’s that?” Sam asked.
“I pick up aluminum cans from everywhere and when I get a garbage sack full, Mama takes me to the recycle place where I sell ’em. I make good money that way.”
Sam’s conscience tugged. Good money, indeed. Libby
was teaching their son to work for his money. Good for her. But it didn’t make him feel so good, knowing that it was his lack of faith and distrust in her that had caused this eight-year split.
“This is Mama’s room,” Sammy said, as he bolted across the hall. “You can sleep here.”
Sam only glanced at the room. He needed to be alone to face that. This would be the closest to any kind of intimacy with her since their fight, and he wasn’t taking it lightly.
“That’s great. I will take good care of everything,” Sam said.
Sammy nodded, then felt obligated to remind him. “Remember, Mama doesn’t like messes.”
“I’ll remember.”
Kate appeared in the hallway. “Sammy, we need to leave now. You boys have school tomorrow.”
“If it’s okay with Mrs. Wyatt, I would like to take you to visit your mama tomorrow.”
Sammy turned to Kate. “Can I, Grandma Kate? Can he take me to the hospital tomorrow?”
“We’ll see,” Kate said.
They knew better than to argue and Sam didn’t push the issue. Instead, he took Kate’s hand in both of his and squeezed it gently. “It was a pleasure to meet you…you and your boys. Thank you for everything, including looking after Sammy’s welfare.”
Kate nodded. “He’s like one of my own,” Kate said. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” Then she gathered up the trio. “Boys…load up,” she said. However, Sammy lingered behind after the others were heading for the car.
“Um…uh…am I supposed to call you Dad or something?” Sammy asked.
Sam sighed. So much confusion for such a little guy.
He got down on one knee so that they were eye to eye. “What do you want to call me?” Sam asked.
“Daddy. I want to call you Daddy.”
It was impossible not to catch the anticipation in Sammy’s voice. “I’d like that,” Sam said. “And would it be okay if I sometimes call you Sammy and sometimes call you son?” Sam countered.
Sammy beamed and nodded.
“Guess we’d better shake on it,” Sam said and offered his hand, but his son had other ideas. He threw his arms around Sam’s neck.
“Thank you for coming to find us, Daddy,” he said softly.
Ignoring the shaft of pain in his heart, Sam nodded, then added a quick kiss on the side of the little boy’s cheek. His voice was thick with emotion as he added, “Sleep well, Son, and I promise, I won’t get lost from you and your mama again.”
“Okay. ’Night, Daddy,” Sammy said, and bounded off the porch toward Kate’s car with a spring in his step.
Sam waved from the front door, then went inside.
Now he was alone.
In Libby’s house.
The whole situation was surreal. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his mother’s number, knowing she would have been anxious to hear how the meeting had gone. She answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me. I made it here just fine. I’ve already seen Libby. She’s in ICU, still in a coma. Doctors aren’t giving out much details, but I think it’s because they don’t know what else to do for her. As for Sammy…I don’t know what to say.”
Gracie frowned. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you two hit it off?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just overwhelmed by what seeing him made me feel.” Then he sighed. “How long did it take you to bond with me when I was born?”
“True love at first sight,” Gracie said.
“Yeah…me, too,” Sam said softly. “Sammy isn’t quite as sure, but he’s willing to give me a chance.”
Gracie sighed. “Thank God.”
“Yeah, and thank you, too, Mom.”
“For what?”
“Oh…the phone call, and everything.”
“You’re welcome, Sam. Have a nice night.”
“You, too. I’ll call you when I know something new.”
The silence afterward was comfortable, just like Libby’s home. He made a second sweep through the rooms, this time taking note of the small things she’d done to make the house a home, such as the baby pictures of Sammy scattered throughout and his school papers tacked in different places. One of his art projects had been taped to the front of the refrigerator. His raincoat was hanging on a peg by the back door with matching rain boots beneath. A small metal car she’d probably picked up from the floor was sitting incongruously beside a clear glass vase filled with delicate seashells. And there was a grocery list she’d left posted on the refrigerator. It was the single notation at the bottom of the list that startled Sam into a fresh realization of how little he knew about the child who was his son.
Sammy’s birthday tonight. Going to the bowling alley.
He didn’t even know his own son’s birthday. What a screwup he’d made of their lives.
He picked his suitcase up from the hall where he’d put it earlier and carried it into Libby’s bedroom. He stared at the pale blue coverlet and the white, fluffy pillows for
a few painful moments, then put his bag on a nearby chair, and quickly unpacked only the necessary things. He had an hour left before visiting hours were over for the evening and he wasn’t going to sleep until he’d looked at Libby Farraday one more time, just to make sure the last few hours were not a dream.
T
HIS TIME
when Sam showed back up at the hospital, he was treated with a little more respect. He was allowed in ICU for fifteen minutes, cautioned to keep conversations quiet, then left on his own. He pulled a chair up beside Libby’s bed, noticing that the other two beds next to hers were now empty, which gave him a bit more privacy. Not that it mattered. Libby had yet to participate in a conversation. He couldn’t help but notice her breathing seemed steady and her color was good. There was a pink cast to her skin, rather than a wan, sickly pallor. The fading bruises left hints of how horrific her initial injuries had been, and he couldn’t quit thinking of how Sammy must have felt, seeing his mother in such a terrible state. Then he sighed. That was the past. This was now. And he needed for Libby to be well so that she would be a part of their future. He leaned forward and cupped her hand with his own.
“Libby, it’s Sam, again. I came back like I said I would.” Then his voice shook as he began to talk about Sammy. “I met our son today. He is a great kid, and you’re obviously a phenomenal mother.”
Libby’s eyelids fluttered, but Sam didn’t notice. “I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say I’m sorry before you’ll believe me, but if it takes the rest of my life to make things right between us, I’m there.” Then he took a deep breath before he began his confession. “So, there’s something you need to know. Eight years ago I
came back for you…to say I’m sorry and to beg your forgiveness. I didn’t run out. You ran away, and I’ve been living half a life ever since. Thanks to Sammy, I’ve found you again.” His voice began to shake. “Please, baby, you have to wake up and get well. Don’t make us live the rest of our lives without you.”
T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Pete and Sammy were fighting over the toothpaste when Kate came running into the bathroom. Her expression was somewhere between shocked and excited, but the boys figured they were in trouble for making a mess.
“I asked for the tube first, Grandma,” Pete said.
“But I was already squeezing toothpaste on my brush,” Sammy countered.
“Sammy! The hospital called. Your mother is waking up!” Then she clasped her hands together. “Praise the Lord for answered prayers! Sammy, finish getting dressed. Your father is on his way over here to get you. You’re both going to see her together.”
“Yea!” Sammy screamed, flung his toothbrush into the sink and headed for the bedroom.
“Grandma, Sammy didn’t brush his teeth,” Pete argued.
“This is one morning when I think he can be excused,” Kate said. “Now hurry up. Charlie is already eating breakfast and I made French toast.”
That was all the urging Pete needed, while Sammy’s impetus was something else altogether. All Sammy could think about as he was putting on his clothes was that Mama was waking up. That meant she would be well and they would all go home and everything would be like it was before.
Then he stopped. No. That wasn’t exactly right. Because of what he and Pete and Charlie had done
Daddy was now in the picture. He thought Mama would be happy, but now he wasn’t so sure.
He was combing his hair when he heard the front doorbell ring. He flew out of the bedroom and down the hall before Kate could get to the door. He flung it open, saw the tall, long-legged man from yesterday standing on the doorstep and the nervous worry in the pit of his stomach disappeared. Daddy had come back, just like he’d promised.
“Daddy! Mama’s waking up. I wore my blue
Star Wars
T-shirt and my newest jeans because Mama likes me in blue. I tied my own shoes but I think one’s gonna come undone pretty soon. I didn’t have time to brush my teeth and I didn’t eat breakfast yet. Do you think Mama will say my name?”
Sam’s heart had been thumping overtime ever since he’d gotten the phone call from Kate Wyatt that Libby was waking up. When she’d offered to let him take Sammy, he’d been beyond grateful. Now, facing this tiny whirlwind of testosterone upped the joy in his heart. He wouldn’t think about what condition she’d be in when she woke up. The fact that she was alive was enough for now.
“Does Kate know I’m here?” Sam asked.
“I do now,” Kate said, as she appeared from the hallway. “Good luck at the hospital. When you’re done, get him something to eat and drop him off at school. He’ll show you the way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said.
Kate started to turn away, then stopped and fixed him with steely intent.
“You
are
going straight to the hospital, right?”
Sam knew what she was thinking. “Hey, Sammy, go ahead and get in the car and don’t forget to buckle up,” he said.
Sammy bounced past him and headed for the car as Sam stepped across the threshold.
“Mrs. Wyatt…”
“Kate. I told you to call me, Kate.”
“So…Kate. I swear, on my mother’s life, the last thing I would do is harm Sammy or Libby. I am not going to run away with him. I am not leaving Azalea. We are going to go see Libby and I’m going to ask you to pray that she wakes up the same woman she was before the wreck. I could handle it…I think…if Libby had amnesia, but not Sammy. I don’t want him hurt any more than he’s already been, okay?”
Kate sighed, then relaxed. “Okay.”
Sam nodded, then pivoted quickly and headed for the car. Within minutes they were out of sight.
L
IBBY WAS
in a pit. She didn’t know how she’d gotten there, or how long she’d been trapped, but every time she tried to climb out, she could only get so high and then she’d fall back. It was deep and dark, and the sides were too steep and slick to get a good grip. She’d been screaming for help for what seemed like ages, but no one seemed to be able to hear her.
Once she’d seen someone looking down at her from the opening above. When she’d finally realized it was her mother, she’d started weeping.
“Mother. Mother. Thank goodness you found me. I fell in, but I can’t get out. I’m tired and cold and I’m afraid. Help me out. Please, help me get out.”
But her mother had only shaken her head. “I’m sorry, my love, but you can’t come with me. You have to find a way out and go back on your own. Sammy needs you.”
Then she’d disappeared and Libby had fallen to the ground in a huddle, weeping helplessly. It had taken her
some time to remember that her mother was dead, that she had died when Libby was seventeen and if she didn’t get out, Sammy would wind up an orphan, just like her.
Later, she’d heard someone else and looked up, but couldn’t even see daylight above her. She thought it was Sam’s voice that she heard, but she had to be wrong. Sam was gone. He’d left her just like Mother had. She wondered what it was about her that made the people she loved keep leaving her behind?
Sammy. Sammy. Sammy.
Sammy hadn’t left her. She’d just gotten herself lost. She had to get out and find Sammy. He was too little to be left on his own.
So she’d started digging footholds up the side of the pit. It had taken what seemed like forever. But she couldn’t give up. Every time she felt too tired to continue, she would think of Sammy laughing at Saturday morning cartoons. Sammy at the watermelon-eating contest in the park on the Fourth of July with the pink juice running down his chin and onto his shirt. He hadn’t won, but his picture was the one that had wound up on the front page of the paper the next week. Sammy saying his prayers at night. Sammy crying. Crying? Why was Sammy crying? Oh God…she had to wake up and find Sammy. Please God, help me get out!
D
OCTOR
L
IVINGSTON
was standing at Libby’s bedside when Sam and Sammy entered ICU, escorted by a nurse.