Sam looked at the clock. Five p.m. gave her just enough time to shower and make herself more or less presentable, but it was unlikely that it gave her enough time to prepare herself emotionally.
Chapter Seven
Sam pulled into the Weavers’ driveway at 4:55 p.m. She stared up at the house and took a moment to gather herself. As a teen, she had spent countless hours at the Weaver house and had considered it a second home. Looking at it now, on the outside, it seemed that very little had changed. Alex’s dad had always been meticulous with gardening. Even now, the lawn was mowed in a diagonal pattern, and there was fresh mulch around the flower beds in the front yard. The hedges were trimmed perfectly. On the outside, the house looked like it always had. Sam wondered what was waiting for her on the inside. After composing herself, she opened the door and got out of the car.
Sam took her time walking up the sidewalk to the door. She knew she was dawdling, but felt like she needed every last minute to prepare herself. She paused before the red oak door, noticing the camera there, and briefly closed her eyes. She reached out a hand, but the front door flew open before she could even raise her hand to knock. Sam gaped at the unruly blond hair and bright blue eyes of what seemed to be a miniature version of Alex standing in the doorway.
“Hello!” the young girl said brightly, squinting at Sam. “Who are you?”
Even though she had seen a picture, Sam was speechless at the uncanny resemblance. She hadn’t known Alex at that age, but she could remember from all the photos she had seen that her daughter was her carbon copy.
“Sophie, this is my friend Sam.” Sam looked beyond the girl and saw Alex standing in the background, a slight smile on her lips. “She’s here for Sunday dinner.”
Sophie took a moment to consider the information, looking Sam up and down as she did. Sam felt herself smiling at the girl’s boldness. The physical resemblance was where the similarities wore off. Alex had always been slightly shy. This girl was not lacking in confidence. After a thorough and detailed appraisal, Sophie seemed satisfied. “Okay,” she said, nodding her approval.
“Why don’t you go help Gran set the table?” Alex’s voice was filled with affection.
“Okay!” Sophie let the door swing open. She turned and ran from the room, shouting for her grandmother as she did so.
“Wow,” Sam breathed as her attention shifted to Alex. “I don’t think I’ve ever been checked out like that before. And by an eight-year-old, no less.”
“I imagine you get checked out quite a bit.” Alex looked from her face down her body and then back up again. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not just eight-year-olds doing it.”
Sam felt her face flush. She hadn’t been prepared for flirtatious Alex. Or for the vision of Alex, who looked gorgeous, as she stood before her. Her hair fell in soft, blond waves to her shoulders, and the worn blue-jean shirt made the iciness of her blue eyes even more pronounced. Damn, even after all these years, and all the heartache, she could still leave her tongue-tied.
“I do okay,” she said cautiously, clearing her throat. She was happy she had taken extra care with her appearance that day and worn one of the few nice shirts she had brought. Clearly, it had paid off. She did her best to maintain eye contact with Alex, but it wasn’t easy.
“I’m sure,” Alex murmured. She met Sam’s eyes for a long moment before Nadine’s voice interrupted them.
“Samantha Weaver?” Nadine came up behind Alex and paused to assess Sam, who was still standing rooted on the front porch.
“Nadine.” Sam felt herself stiffen, but she kept her tone even. Her eyes never left Nadine’s face. Nadine met her gaze and held it.After a tense moment, the older woman inhaled deeply and then let it out. Sam saw her shoulders heave with the movement.
“Alex?” Nadine asked over her shoulder. “Give us a minute, hon?”
Alex narrowed her eyes, looking from Sam to her mother, then back again, a questioning look in her eyes. Sam clenched her jaw and gave a terse nod.I guess we’re doing this now. Alex met her eyes, silently asking Sam if she was sure. Sam shook her head. After one more sidelong glance at her mother, Alex finally conceded. “Okay…” She drew the word out, still obviously wary.
Sam sensed that she was giving her time for an escape if she needed one. “It’s okay, Alex,” she said gently. “I’d love a few minutes to catch up with your mother.” She forced a smile, hoping it masked the turmoil she was feeling inside.
“That’s fine,” Alex said slowly. “I’ll be just out back if you need me.” She gave them both another long look before turning away.
Nadine stepped onto the porch. “Come.” She took Sam’s elbow in her hand. “Please, let’s sit.”
Sam shrugged off Nadine’s elbow but followed her toward the swing hanging from the porch’s open rafters. Nadine knew how much Sam loved the swing. She had spent hours rocking, sometimes reading, sometimes just thinking, as Nadine and Alex tended to the flower beds, the three of them chatting about anything and everything. They had enjoyed countless glasses of lemonade on the porch in the summer. In the fall, they carved pumpkins on the concrete floor.
Now Sam held herself stiffly at the edge of the swing while Nadine sat opposite her in one of the patio chairs. Nadine eyed Sam openly. Sam let her assess but remained still. She wasn’t going to be the one to break first.
“Sam,” Nadine finally began. “I need to tell you how sorry we were to hear about your mother. I know what she meant to you. I can’t imagine what you had to go through.”
Sam tipped her head in thanks but remained silent. She didn’t think Nadine had kept her out here just to offer her condolences. Sam sat in silence, waiting.
“Alex came back home a few months ago,” Nadine finally began. Sam cocked her head and frowned slightly. This wasn’t what she was expecting. Nadine smiled dryly. “I know what you’re thinking. But please, give me a minute to get it all out. I feel like I have some time to make up for.”
“You don’t have to make up for anything, Nadine,” Sam pointed out. She pushed the swing into a slow rock. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”
Nadine regarded her for a moment before nodding in agreement. “That may be,” she agreed. “But opinions can change.” She looked out over the yard for a minute, and Sam wondered if she needed the time to collect her thoughts. Eventually, her eyes returned to search Sam’s face.
“You know,” Nadine began again, “Alex was very young when she married Scott.”
