At the sound of the front door opening, both women turned. Alex peeked her head around the corner, concern visible on her face. “Everything okay out here?” She looked from Sam to her mother and then back again.
Sam and Nadine shared a look. “It’s not quite,” Sam said honestly. She rose to her feet and looked down at Nadine. “But it’s getting there. Maybe we just start with dinner?” she said to the older woman. “I was told there would be pie.”
Nadine chuckled as she rose to her feet as well. “You always did love pie.” She made her way over to the door and squeezed past her daughter. “I’ll go and finish a few things up.”
Alex stepped out of the house and joined Sam on the porch. “Iseverything okay?” Her tone was soft, and concern was visible on her face.
“I think it will be,” Sam said after a minute. “I appreciate her apology. I know that wasn’t easy for her.”
“She’s been waiting quite a while to give it to you.”
“And you?” Sam challenged.
“I…” Alex paused. Her eyes looked everywhere except at Sam, and a light blush dusted her cheeks.
“Mom!” Sophie’s voice came from inside the house. “Dinner!”
Sam waited another moment to see if Alex would say anything else, but it was clear that the moment had passed. “Come on.” She walked toward Alex and then, like Nadine, squeezed past her into the house. Only she did so without allowing any part of her body to touch Alex’s. She saw Alex close her eyes and felt her sigh deeply as she passed. Behind her, she heard the door shut as Alex turned and followed her in.
“Sammie!” Tim Weaver’s voice boomed as he came through the screen door leading out to the Weavers’ poolside patio. He set down the beer he was carrying and went to where Sam stood awkwardly in the kitchen. His big frame enveloped her in a bear hug, which she returned after a moment of surprise. Mr. Weaver had always given great hugs. To Sam, who was raised by her single mother, he was the closest thing she had had to a father figure. She felt her eyes sting with tears.
After a long moment, he released her but held her at arm’s length, with a hand on each of her shoulders. “It’s terrific to see you.” His tone was sincere, and he looked her straight in the eyes.
“You too, Mr. T,” Sam said, using the nickname she had given him in high school. He had always wanted her to call him “Tim,” but Sam was too polite for that. She chose to compromise by coming up with the “Mr. T” moniker.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Tim tilted his head toward his wife. “Nadine cooked enough to feed a small army.”
“Shush, you.” Nadine swatted at him with a towel.
“She always did,” Sam said and shook her head.
Dinner turned out to be more enjoyable than she had expected. Nadine was a fantastic cook, and it had been a long time since Sam had had a home-cooked meal. Of course, she would have preferredher mother’s cooking, but Nadine’s had always come in a close second.
The Weavers were polite and chatty, and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. She found herself readily exchanging the details of the past dozen years of her life. She told them all about college, her travels, and her life in Boston. She relayed the story of her mother’s illness and what she had gone through in those last months, and since then. Mr. T chimed in with a few details about their other daughter, Casey, whom Sam had helped coach in JV volleyball when they were in school. Despite her initial reservations, Sam found herself doing a lot of the talking. It wasn’t lost on her that no one seemed to speak of what had happened in Alex’s life during the same period, nor did they talk about what had brought her back to Hicksville. Sam was curious, but she wasn’t going to push. Alex would tell her when she was ready.
Sophie turned out to be the absolute highlight of the night. Sam found herself enjoying the precocious little girl who seemed to have no qualms about saying whatever came to mind. After the meal, she offered to help clean up the dishes and followed Sam and Alex into the kitchen.
“How exactly do you know my mommy?” Sophie demanded as soon as her grandparents left the room. She studied Sam suspiciously.
“Soph…” Alex warned.
“No,” Sam interrupted, laughing. “It’s okay.” She turned to face Sophie. “Your mother and I were friends in high school.” She looked back at Alex and shrugged. Sometimes, the simplest explanation was the best one. And theyhadbeen friends. She doubted Sophie would understand anything that happened between them beyond that. Besides, that wasn’t her story to tell.
“Were you best friends, or just sort of maybe friends?” Sophie still seemed skeptical.
“I think we were a little close, yeah.” Sam felt her face redden as she looked over to Alex for help, who had turned red and was fighting a laugh behind a dish towel.
“Then how come she’s never talked about you?” For an eight-year-old,Sophie was a little bit relentless. The girl had a career in law enforcement if she wanted one.
“Does she talk about all her friends?” Sam waited while the young girl pondered the question.
“I guess not,” Sophie relented.
“Maybe she’ll talk about me now that you and I have met.” Sam looked at Alex, who had a slight twinkle in her eye.
“Maybe,” Alex murmured, catching Sam’s gaze and holding it. After a long second, she turned to her daughter, “Come on, squirt. It’s bedtime.”
“But Mom…” Sophie dragged the word out over several syllables. “We didn’t even get to play.”
