Just Three Words

by Melissa Brayden

  Samantha ran a hand up and down her arm. “Yeah, well, you needed it.”

  “If you hadn’t shown up here and worked your Snow White magic, I’d still be racing around trying to get stuff done and biting everyone’s head off in the process. I don’t know if I’ve said it enough, but thank you.”

  “You’d do it in a heartbeat for me,” Sam said casually in an attempt to shift attention away from herself.

  Hunter nodded, her expression sobering. “That’s true. I would.” The sincerity of the words stopped Sam short and reminded her just how much Hunter was able to affect her. Not trusting herself this close to Hunter, alone in her bedroom, Samantha decided to rescue them from the weighted moment.

  “Shall we?”

  “We shall.”

  A half hour later, Sam followed Hunter down the hospital hallway to her mother’s room, noting the squeaky floor and clinical lighting. A lot of people didn’t care for hospitals, but Sam had always found comfort in a building whose sole purpose was to take care of others. Hunter went in first to alert her mother of the new visitor while Sam waited in the hall, clutching the bouquet of tulips they’d stopped for at her request.

  Moments later, Hunter popped around the corner, her voice low. “Okay, come on in. Try to be a little bit friendly.”

  Sam glared at her playful dig, but shifted to a warm smile as she rounded the corner into the room. Mrs. Blair was sitting up in bed, smoothing her hair. She beamed at Sam as she approached. “There’s my favorite Mino’aka!”

  Samantha moved quickly into her open arms and, following Hunter’s instructions, hugged her delicately. “I’m so happy you’re doing better. I had to drive all the way down here and see for myself.”

  “When Hunter said you were here, I felt so special,” Mrs. Blair said.

  “Well, you are. You’re my second mom, you know. Who else sent me banana bread care packages at school?”

  Mrs. Blair seemed to sit a little taller at that news. “I’ll make you some more as soon as I’m home.”

  “Let’s not rush things,” Hunter said from the doorway.

  “I can rush things if I want for my Samantha.”

  Sam passed Hunter a knowing look and placed her flowers next to the array already present. “Looks like you have a lot of admirers.”

  “I don’t know where they all came from! But I bet you have some admirers of your own.”

  “Not as many as you would think,” Sam said, smiling back.

  “Fools, then.”

  Hunter looked on as the two continued their conversation, struck by the upshift in her mother’s energy. Downright chipper, if she had to categorize her, and she couldn’t wipe the smile off her own face if she tried. It was refreshing to see her mom acting like her old self again. Maybe this visit was just the motivation she needed. Later, it was Samantha who took her mother for a walk around the wing, and it happened without any coaxing at all. Just two friends, gabbing away as they strolled. Hunter shook her head in wonder. It was shaping up to be a good night indeed.

  As they walked back to the car that night, her father and Kevin having arrived to take over, Hunter felt like some of her burden had been lifted. “You really went in there and made a huge difference, you know that?”

  Samantha shrugged. “She just needed to see a less-familiar face is all.”

  “When does that less-familiar face have to head back?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Hunter felt the loss immediately.

  “With the drive being so long, it was about all the time I could manage. We’re kind of slammed at Savvy.”

  “My fault.”

  “Not at all. We’ve all pulled together. We have your back, you know, and Mal said you’ve done some work from afar.”

  She nodded. “A few things here and there on my laptop.”

  A pause. Hunter listened as the crickets sang to them from the nearby trees. She and Sam were talking about everything except what they should be talking about. Probably by design. They were so careful around each other now because there were bruises, and it was best to keep their fingers off them.

  As they stood there in that parking lot, something shifted in Samantha’s eyes. They were so luminous in the moonlight, so open to her yet so out of her reach at the same time. Such a big part of Hunter wanted to pull Sam to her, kiss her in the moonlight and never let her go. But the larger part held her back, terrified of what she’d be opening herself up to and what she’d be holding Sam back from.

  It was Samantha who finally broke the silence. “You need to concentrate on your family right now, but when you get home, we need to have a talk. About everything.”

  Hunter studied the stars on the horizon as they formed a halo above Samantha’s hair, which moved softly against the breeze. “I don’t think I can be what you need me to be.”

  Samantha’s gaze found hers. “Funny. Because I’ve yet to say what that is.”

  It was a fair enough assessment. For all Hunter knew, Sam wanted to tell her that she and Libby were giving it another shot and what she really needed from Hunter was understanding. The thought made her want to kick the loose gravel around her feet, but it wasn’t like she’d been vocal about offering Sam an alternative.

  God, life was tricky.

  When Hunter arrived home from the hospital the next day, Samantha and Elvis were gone, headed back to New York as scheduled. Pride and Prejudice had been left on her bedside table and in the freezer she found more than a handful of homemade meals, labeled with precise reheating instructions.

  And for whatever reason, she found the mail there, too.

  She smiled to herself. Maybe people could change…

  Chapter Seventeen

  As Hunter packed her suitcase, she watched as one back-to-school commercial after another rolled across the television screen. They were well into August, and that blew Hunter’s mind. Seriously, where had the time gone? Autumn would soon roll in, followed quickly by the holiday season. Just thinking about New York at Christmas had Hunter energetic and ready to head home.

  The time in Ohio had been full of ups and downs, but it had been an important trip and one that would forever change the way Hunter viewed the world. When she arrived, it had seemed almost certain that she would forever lose one of the most important people in her world, only to get the most wonderful, if not exhausting, reprieve. She’d listened in horror to the details of her sister’s sex life, but it had brought them closer together in a very strange way. She’d opened a new line of communication with Kevin and even engaged in a couple of short but positive conversations with her dad, who in his own really odd way seemed to be trying.

  But she missed her friends.

  Her job.

  Her dog.

  It was time to, at long last, head home. In the back of her mind, there were questions about what she would find waiting for her, and she would deal with those questions in due time. It certainly wouldn’t be easy.

  She rolled her suitcase down the hall to the family’s living room, where she found her parents, sitting together on the couch watching the Game Show Network.

  “What is peanut butter,” her mother called out to the television from where she sat beneath a snuggly blanket. She’d been home for a week, taking it fairly easy on the couch. Didn’t mean she wasn’t cooking in her short spurts of energy, no matter what they tried to do to stop her.

  “What is Nutella,” her father said calmly. Alex Trebek agreed with him. They’d been spending a lot of time together since the heart attack, her parents. She was pretty sure the experience had beyond terrified her father. And while he was a hugely stoic guy, his actions had spoken volumes about how much he loved his wife. He’d been there every step of the way, and she had to give him credit.

  “All packed?” her mother asked. “Did you take the lasagna?”

  “Mom, you can’t take an entire lasagna on a plane.”

  “You could if you tried harder.”

  “I’m not packing a lasa
gna. I’m just not.”

  The crease between her mother’s brow appeared, but it was more adorable than angry. “You’ll break my heart, and it just mended.”

  Hunter smiled in spite of the lunacy and leaned down to hug her mom. “You keep the lasagna, crazy woman. And please stick to your doctor’s instructions. Rest as much as possible. I’ll be calling you every night, so have some good stories ready to tell me from your soap opera.”

  “It’s a date. I’ll miss you, but I’m ready for you to leave.”

  “What?”

  Her mother pulled a face. “I’m kidding. It’s what all the funny mamas say.”

  As Hunter stepped away from her mom, her father stood nearby and shifted from one foot to the other. And before she even knew what was happening, his arms moved toward her into—oh God, this was happening—an awkward and rather quickly executed hug. Floored. That’s the best description, because she could count on one hand the number of times her father had hugged her. But maybe she should get the other hand ready, as things seemed to be on a new course lately at the Blair household.

  “Bye, Dad,” she said quietly.

  “Need any money or anything?” he asked, still doing the shifting thing with his feet.

  “I’m good.”

  Her mother pushed herself to the edge of the couch. “Promise me these things, nani kaikamahine.” Hunter was ready to recite the list. She knew it well. “Make sure you eat. Read a good book. And tell that girl that you love her.”

  Hold up.

  What was with number three?

  “I’m sorry, tell who I love her?”

  “You know who,” her mother answered rather assertively. “Don’t play that game with me, Hunter Jane.”

  “Samantha,” her father tossed in and then looked poker-faced at the floor for his unsolicited participation.

  “You think I’m in love with Sam?” she asked and glanced at her watch, cognizant of the limited amount of time she had to make it to the airport.

  “I saw you when she was here, all bashful and starry-eyed. That’s the look. You had the look. Didn’t she have the look?” her mother asked her father, who nodded once and met Hunter’s eyes briefly.

  “She did.”

  Hunter sighed and relaxed her suitcase to an upright position, her exit delayed. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “Of course it’s complicated or it wouldn’t be love. Love is hard. It takes work. It’s full of ups and downs. If you don’t want to put in the work, then stick with that little dog of yours for the rest of your life. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy.”

  Whoa. “That seems a little harsh.”

  Her mother raised an unapologetic shoulder. “I almost died. I have to tell it like it is.”

  “Give it a shot. She seemed like a nice girl,” her father said.

  Her mother pointed at him. “Do you think things are always easy with this one?”

  “I actually don’t, no.”

  “But I love him and he loves me and we work at it. Plus, he was very handsome in his uniform back in the day.” And now they were staring at each other all gaga and clearly immersed in memories from a time before her. Tragedy had a way of bringing people together, and it certainly seemed to have done so for her parents.

  “I will take your words into consideration,” she told her mother. “How about that?”

  “See that you do,” her mother said, and began making a list with her fingers. “Tell that girl that you love her. Take the lasagna. And call when you’re there. Got all that?”

  “Your list is getting longer.”

  “I’m allowed. Be safe. We love you.”

  Hunter took one last look at her family home and her parents, who settled back onto the couch for Double Jeopardy. Understanding that all was well, she headed back out into the world.

  *

  Sam sat with Mallory and Brooklyn at Showplace for a quick Friday afternoon cocktail because, let’s be honest, it had been a week. When a four-person team is down a man, or in this case, a woman, for an entire month, everyone has to stretch a bit to make up the difference. And it was starting to take its toll. Ashton had filled in more administratively and picked up some data entry responsibility that allowed Samantha time to liaise with the graphic artist they’d contracted until Hunter returned. It’d taken a lot of direction from Sam to get exactly what they needed from the guy, which made them all appreciate how seamlessly Hunter understood their concepts and executed them effectively with her designs.

  “Big plans this weekend, Brooks?” Sam asked.

  “No plans at all,” Brooklyn said, popping an olive. “Jess has promised to knock off work at a reasonable hour and spend tonight with me doing something very low-key. Or possibly sexy. Preferably both. That is, provided I don’t die after the week from crazy and ridiculous land.”

  “That’s not a real place,” Mallory said, energy at half-mast.

  “Is now. I invented it. Anyway,” Brooklyn said, shifting her attention to Samantha, “if I don’t come to work on Monday, you’ll know what happened.”

  “Things should go back to normal soon,” Sam pointed out. “So don’t die yet.”

  “That it will,” Brooklyn said meeting her eyes. “What time does she get in?”

  “The text said close to midnight.”

  “You nervous to see her?” Mallory asked, pulled back into the conversation. It had been a couple of weeks since her trip to Ohio, but it felt like more time had passed than that, as each day dragged into the next.

  Sam sat up a little straighter. “Nervous in a good way. I just want her around again, you know? We’ll figure the rest out in time. And I don’t want to ambush her with any sort of declaration, but I do know what I want. This time apart has only made me more certain of my feelings.”

  “And it’s Hunter that you want? For good or for bad?” Mallory asked.

  Samantha nodded, feeling vulnerable at the admission.

  Seeming to get that, Mallory covered Samantha’s hand with her own and proceeded gently. “And if she wants something different?”

  Her biggest fear.

  The thing that made her heart squeeze and fall in her chest.

  “I have to be prepared for that. And if it happens, well, at least we’re still friends and she’ll be in my life in that capacity, right?” The thought nearly strangled her. She wasn’t sure how she’d go back to thinking of Hunter as only her friend, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

  Brooklyn smiled. “It’ll be good to see her face again. Elvis and I have missed her on our park trips.”

  “I think autumn is going to be a better time for all of us,” Mallory said. And with that, she held up the company credit card. “And to kick it off, Savvy’s getting this one. We earned it.”

  “Cheers to that,” Brooklyn practically sang. The three of them raised and clinked their glasses in declaration of a much-needed upswing.

  *

  When Samantha arrived back at the loft, Elvis was waiting by the door to greet her. Their new tradition. “I’m home! Our love fest can continue.”

  The two of them had developed a special kind of bond in the wake of Hunter’s absence. They’d both missed her desperately and seemed to find solace in that mutual understanding. Plus, he was a pretty terrific dog, staring aside.

  “Hi, little El.” He wagged the entire back half of his body as if on speed and whined softly. When she produced a gourmet dog biscuit for him from the jar on the counter, the excitement level tripled and the I’m-about-to-lose-my-mind shrieking ensued. She’d passed a trendy dog bakery last week and couldn’t exactly walk by without scoring a little homemade something for her main K9. Apparently, she’d become a dog person when no one was looking.

  Elvis inhaled the cheese and bacon treat in two giant swallows. Sam concurrently perused the mail en route to her room to change from her less-than-comfortable work attire into something cozy. She was way more anxious about seeing Hunter than she’d le
t on to her friends. Hunter would arrive late that night, probably tired from the trip. They’d chat for a few minutes, maybe have some ice cream or a drink, depending on Hunter’s mood. And from there they’d see. Maybe she’d reserve any sort of talk or confession until sometime over the weekend. Give Hunter a chance to catch her breath.

  Electric bill, advertisement, cable bill, her cousin’s wedding announcement, and a catalog for Hunter from some sort of art supply store. Nothing of consequence. She tossed the mail on the edge of her bed and turned to her closet ready to go to fashion war.

  But something was amiss.

  She turned back to the bed for a reexamination, inclining her head at the sight of a hardcover spiral notebook propped against her pillow.

  Now, that wasn’t there when I left this morning.

  Retrieving the spiral curiously, she sat on her bed and ran her hand across the cover, which displayed a title written in beautiful black calligraphy: “Just Three Words.” She opened the spiral and began to read, amazed by what she held in her hands. It was a third-person account that began ten years earlier. Psychology class. And it was Hunter’s handwriting. She settled in, enraptured as a sentence led to a page, which led to more pages. It was their story in novel format, and Samantha took in every word. She couldn’t have put it down if she tried. The book highlighted all of the memorable stops on their journey, hers and Hunter’s. Their meeting, their friendship, Hunter moving in, the kitchen kissing, even the kiss with Libby in the hallway and how much it had shaken Hunter. Samantha wasn’t sure how long she was sitting there, but in that moment, time seemed secondary. The last section, however, left her breathless and so she read it again to be sure she understood.

  Samantha loved romance novels and, knowing this, Hunter left their story for her, the tale of how they met through the present day (skipping the boring stuff, of course). She only hoped that through these words, Samantha would forgive Hunter’s inability as a writer, but see instead how deep her love really was. Because she was in love with Sam, desperately, and couldn’t wait for the chance to say those three words to her in person. The words she’d never spoken to anyone in the past and hoped to never say to anyone else in the future.