Once Upon a Thanksgiving (PTA Moms Book 1)
Page 18
He took her hand. "Samantha, I don't want to go back to Columbus by myself. I don't want to rattle through my house on my own."
The boys cheered in the living room, then Stella screamed, "Seton, cut it out." There was a pause. "Mom."
Whatever Seton had done, he must have undone it because Stella called, "Never mind."
"I want this," Harry said, nodding toward the very loud noises emanating from the living room. He gave her hand a small squeeze. "I don't want to leave you, Sami. I've fallen in love with you."
Samantha didn't need to blink because his words shook her, evaporating all her unshed tears and forcing her heart to do a double beat. "Harry, we agreed—"
"It's not what I set out to do, but it happened. I love you."
"But you said you didn't want to fall for a woman with kids."
"I'll confess, after losing Teresa and Lucas, I didn't. At least not just any woman, and not just any kids. Even as I repeated those words the other night, I realized that I had no choice in the matter. I love you. . .and I love your kids."
"Harry, you're leaving. In a week," she reminded him.
"Samantha, you haven't said anything I haven't thought about. What I'm hoping you'll say next is how you feel about me."
Part of her was afraid to say the words. Terrified that it would make her feelings for Harry too real. The old Samantha might have let that fear stop her, but the new one—the one who was optimistic, who knew she had a right to be happy—that Samantha blurted out, "I think I love you, too. It doesn't matter though, you're still going next week." She needed that reminder.
"I don't want to go without you."
Suddenly she understood what he'd meant when he said it hurt that Teresa hadn't even asked him to go with her. It salved some of her pain, knowing he was asking her. "Harry, if things were different, I'd follow you. If it were even last summer, I would. I'd pack up the kids and follow you anywhere. Now, Phillip's trying, and the kids deserve to know their father, to have him be a part of their lives. And I just can't—"
"Ask me," he simply said.
"What?"
"Teresa never asked me to come with her. That hurt the most," he said, echoing what she'd just been thinking.
"Would you?" Samantha asked, even as she wondered how any woman could walk away from Harry. She didn't think she could. "Would you have followed her?"
"To be honest, I think there was something missing from our relationship for a very long time, and she was honest enough to admit it. Maybe the fact that I didn't follow her anyway, without her asking, says it all. If we'd really had a love to build a life on, surely I would have. We were missing something. But Samantha, I don't think anything's missing from what we're building. I love you. So. . .ask me."
She was stuck on the idea that he loved her, she couldn't keep up with any other part of the conversation. "Ask you what?"
"Ask me to stay, Sami. Just ask me."
How could she do that? "Harry, I couldn't ask you to give up your life."
"Don't you see, if you let me walk away, that's what you're asking me to do. Because my life is here, with you."
He'd sat there, pouring out his heart to her from the other end of the table. Now, he got up and made his way to her. "Please, tell me you want me to stay."
"You'd stay?"
"Only if you want me to. Samantha, I tried, I really tried, to make things work with Teresa. I learned that a relationship, love, has to be a two-way street. I want to stay, but I won't, if you don't want—"
"Harry," she interrupted. "Want? You think I wouldn't want you to?"
She reached out and brushed a hand across his cheek. "I want you with me more than anything I've ever wanted. How could you doubt that?" She took a deep breath. "I love you, Harry."
He leaned in and kissed her, then pulled back, smiling. "I'm awfully glad you do, because I love you, too. I called my boss in Columbus. Already tendered my resignation right after I talked to Geri. I'll be staying on at Erie Elementary. It might have been awkward if you didn't want me to stay."
"What about that other guy?"
"He's taking another position. Erie Elementary is mine."
"That's what you were doing out in the yard?" She laughed, not that it was funny, but rather that the emotions were pressing so hard against her chest that she had to do something to relieve the pressure. "No more interim principal?"
"No more interim anything." He paused. "Samantha, part of me, a very big part, would like to ask you to marry me right now. But I think we both need more time."
Time. She'd been counting down the time she had with Harry since September. Three months hadn't seemed long enough, but now? "Now that you're staying, we have all the time in the world."
"Well, I may be gentleman enough to give you some time, but all the time in the world?" He shook his head. "I think you'll need to move a little faster than that."
"Mom, Grunge brought you a present, and I think Marmalade is afraid of mice," Stella hollered.
Crash.
Bang.
Crash. "Mom, hurry!" someone shouted.
She turned to Harry, laughing. "Things will never be quiet around here. You realize that?"
Harry nodded. "I'm counting on it."
Epilogue
On the first Friday in December, Samantha carried a huge box of pumpkin squares into the meeting room at Erie Elementary.
"Hi," she called out, bubbling over with happiness. "You two will never guess what happened."
"That's exactly what I said to Michelle when she came in." Carly didn't seem anywhere near as bubbly as Samantha. As a matter of fact, Carly sounded rather defeated.
Michelle nodded. "And I said it back to her. Neither of you are going to believe my holiday." Michelle shook her head in a way that didn't bode well, either.
Samantha felt a pang of guilt. Her two best friends had issues. "Talking about the Christmas Fair can wait a minute. Sounds like there's a lot going on, so who goes first?" Samantha didn't want to lead off with her positive news. When no one volunteered, she suggested, "Alphabetical order?"
"Good stuff first," Carly insisted. "And by the look of things, you're the only one with that, so you go."
Though she tried to scale back her joy, she wasn't sure she managed it as she blurted, "I'm in love."
"That's not news," Michelle and Carly said in unison. They looked at each other and laughed.
"Really, it was that obvious?" At Carly's snort, Samantha shook her head. "I wish one of you had clued me in because it was news to me. And even more importantly, Harry loves me back."
"No news there, either," Michelle told her. "Anyone looking at the two of you at the Thanksgiving Pageant knew that."
"You aren't moving to Columbus, are you? Selfishly, we don't want to lose you," Carly assured her.
"No, I'm staying." And she filled them in on the details of Harry's new post. "We're going to take it slow. We don't want to make any mistakes, still, I don't think anything about what Harry and I have could be a mistake. We fit."
She could have bubbled all night, but she knew there was something wrong with her friends. "Michelle, your turn."
Michelle's smile faded. "Remember when I said Brandon wanted to find his father?"
"And he agreed to wait until he was eighteen," Samantha said.
"Well, he lied. He went looking anyway, and he found him. I don't know what I'm going to do."
Samantha couldn't imagine finding out there was some stranger with a claim to her kids. "Oh, Michelle."
"I've talked to my lawyer, and all I can do right now is wait. The lawyer suggested we get a paternity test before I start to worry too much. So, I'm not worrying." Everything about Michelle, her expression, the sag of her shoulders, said she was worrying. She shook her head. "I can't talk about it anymore. Carly?"
Samantha was concerned about Michelle, but she didn't know what to say to comfort her. When Carly didn't respond, Samantha's concern kicked into overdrive. She prodded her. "Carly? Y
our turn."
Carly sighed. "I spent Friday at the police station."
As Carly told them about being arrested, the line from the Thanksgiving Pageant poem ran through Samantha's mind again. Thanksgiving's a day to remember to start saying thanks for the things that are near to our heart.
Samantha studied the two women and acknowledged how much she'd come to count on them over the last few months. And how thankful she was that they were in her life.
Heidi had thrown the three of them together to work on the social committee, but Sam knew they were held together by something much stronger.
They were friends.
And Samantha believed whatever was coming their way—Christmas fairs, Valentine dances, nights at the police station or rediscovered fathers—they'd get through it together.
Because that's what friends did.
I so hope you enjoyed Samantha and Harry’s story in Once Upon a Thanksgiving. Please take a moment to review it at Amazon.com. Then come back to Erie Elementary and read Michelle's story in ONCE UPON A CHRISTMAS! Coming in November! Here’s a sneak peak. . .
Once Upon a Christmas
Copyright Holly Jacobs
Prologue
September
Michelle Hamilton practically crawled out of the bathroom and flopped onto the bed.
Normally, in her newly decorated room, snuggling under the duvet that matched the curtains, which coordinated with the half dozen throw pillows, gave her a sense of comfort and accomplishment.
This morning, she barely noticed the loveliness because she was so lost in her misery.
Michelle Hamilton was not often laid low by illness. Any illness. She couldn't remember the last time she was sick, and she hated the feeling of helplessness.
Another wave of nauseousness made her forget railing against her illness—it made her forget practically everything as she simply concentrated on calming her more than queasy stomach.
"Aunt Shell, are you driving me to school?" Brandon called through her closed bedroom door.
Drive?
Her stomach did another somersault. Lying on the bed rather than the bathroom floor was almost too iffy for her fragile digestive tract to manage.
"Could you call Mrs. Ericson and ask if you can have a ride?" She tried to infuse something akin to life into her voice.
Her bedroom door opened slowly and timidly, and Brandon looked in.
In spite of her current illness, Michelle couldn't help but revel in the wonderment that this tall, gangly, rusty-haired boy on the verge of manhood was her nephew.
"You're sick?" he asked, concern in his expression.
She didn't try to answer, just nodded her head, which might have been a mistake. She put a hand on her stomach, as if she could hold the queasiness at bay.
"I could stay home with you," he offered.
She didn't risk shaking her head. Instead, she said, "No. I'm never sick, so I'm sure I'll be over this and feeling human before you get home from school."
Brandon didn't look convinced. "Okay, but I'll leave my cell on vibrate. Call if you need me."
She knew having a cell phone on was against school policy, but he was such a sweetheart, she didn't even argue it. Despite another wave of nauseousness, she smiled. "Thanks, honey, I will."
He'd no sooner shut the door than the phone on her bedside stand rang. Out of a Pavlovish sort of need to respond to a stimulus, she automatically reached over and picked up the receiver.
"Hello." Her voice sounded more like a croak than a proper salutation.
"Gee, Michelle, you sound horrible. I guess you missed the PTA meeting last night because you were sick? I mean, that never even occurred to me, since you're never sick."
"Heidi?" she asked, pretty sure she recognized her friend's voice.
"Yes. Listen, had I known you were sick and not just skipping, I'd have protected you. But. . ." The permanently perky PTA president hesitated. "Well, you know what happens when you miss a meeting, and the committee really needed volunteers, so when your name was suggested, I didn't step in—"
"What committee did they nominate me—" She interrupted herself with a groan. It was more a groan of pain from the illness than pain from working on a committee. She tried to be as active as possible in the school's activities. Brandon was in seventh grade. After next year, he'd be on to high school. She wanted to savor and remember every moment of his childhood. So, ultimately, it didn't matter what committee she was on. Even if she'd made the meeting, she'd have probably volunteered for it.
"You're on the—" Heidi started.
The waves intensified into a tsunami and Michelle eased herself off the bed.
"Just send me the stuff, Heidi," she said, and simply dropped the phone as she sprinted the last few steps to the master bathroom.
Within seconds she forgot all about Heidi's call.
Award-winning author Holly Jacobs has almost three million books in print worldwide. The first novel in her Everything But. . . series, Everything But a Groom, was named one of 2008's Best Romances by Booklist, and her books have been honored with many other accolades. She lives in Erie, Pennsylvania, with her husband and four children and two dogs, Ethel Merman and Ella Fitzgerald. You can visit her at http://www.HollyJacobs.com.
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