He did know Em favored pierced ears for Samantha. So, instead of a ring, he checked out the earrings, searching for something for his daughter that wouldn’t shatter his teeth every time he looked at her. He had settled on tiny diamond studs. Samantha would be thrilled to finally get what she’d been begging for, and he’d please Em, as well.
After Roger repacked the box, he stretched out on the bed, crossed his ankles and folded his hands under his head. If only his own wishes would come true. “She has to say yes,” he said in a desperate whisper. He couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without Auntie Em. Tomorrow he’d give Doris a call to find out what kind of engagement ring Em had had, and then he’d go shopping for the biggest and best ring he could afford.
* * *
EM COULDN’T SLEEP. She went outside to sit in a lounge chair near the pool and gazed at the moon, enjoying the cool night breeze. Did the same moon shine over Roger now, or was it lost in perpetual rain clouds?
Now that October had arrived, the summer heat was gone, and she could appreciate why she had moved to Phoenix. The dry air had helped Sammy’s asthma to such an extent that he rarely needed his medications, although he still carried them in his backpack in case of emergencies. A seasonal bout could always come on, and she didn’t want him unprepared.
She had to stop calling him Sammy. That first day of school he had come home with a long face. “My teacher won’t call me The Bus.”
Thank goodness, Em thought, thoroughly annoyed with hearing that moniker. “So, what’s she going to call you?”
“She says my name is Bradley, and I can go by that or Brad. What should I use?”
All these years she’d avoided calling him either one because they reminded her so much of his father and her devastating marriage. “Well, Brad is more like a nickname. And it has four letters like Chip and Chaz.”
“Right,” he said beaming. “I forgot about that.”
She had so many happy memories like that one to replace the bad. Em smiled and leaned back on the chaise lounge.
She hadn’t heard from Bradley. Whether that was a good sign or not, she didn’t know. She felt guilty not sending him her new address, but her phone number hadn’t changed. They still had the one from the apartment and a whole year to get their mail forwarded. She wouldn’t dwell on the issue.
If only Roger would hurry and come home. She missed him so much. He was flying in late tonight, too late for her to stay up and wait. Em got up and stretched. Might as well go to bed. The sooner she went to sleep, the sooner she could wake up and find Roger safely home.
* * *
EM AWOKE WITH panic gripping her heart. She stayed as still as possible in an attempt to determine what had awakened her. Doris snored softly in the next bed.
There it was again. Coughing? Was Sammy hacking away only hours after she had considered his health improved? She got up, threw on a robe and headed for his room.
A nightlight in the upstairs hall guided her through the darkened corridor. She tried to recall if he had dropped his backpack in his room or somewhere in the kitchen. Maybe she should go downstairs and get another inhaler from the supply she kept in her medicine chest.
Em stood indecisively by his door and waited for another bout of coughing. Nothing. Why disturb him if he had already gone back to sleep? She turned and had started for the staircase, when a beam of light flooded over her.
“What are you doing here?” Samantha asked.
Startled, Em backed away. “I didn’t know you were up.”
Samantha leaned against the doorjamb of her room and folded her arms across her chest. “So you’re doing it with my dad after all. All those denials were a bunch of crap.” The look of disgust she aimed at Em chilled Em to the bone. Samantha’s chin began to wobble, and she turned abruptly, then slammed the door in Em’s face.
Another light streamed into the darkened hall. “What’s going...? Em, is that you?” Roger asked.
Em swiveled to see him silhouetted against the light. When had he come home? “Yes. I...I thought I heard someone coughing.” She glanced back at Samantha’s door. Did she hear crying? She would speak to the girl and set her straight after she spoke to Roger.
“That was me,” he said as he approached. “I took a drink of water. Went down the wrong tube. Come here,” he whispered and pulled her into his arms. All thoughts of Samantha disappeared as Roger warmed her within his embrace. Their lips touched in a real kiss, not the ones she’d been forced to recall in her dreams.
Em hummed in contentment as she placed her arms around his shoulders.
Samantha’s door slammed open, sending a shaft of light over them. Roger and Em blinked and broke apart. Roger rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth while Samantha brushed tears from her cheeks.
“You gotta do it right by my door?” she shouted. “If I wanted to see porn I could surf the internet.”
“Quiet, Samantha,” Roger said in a tightly controlled voice, “You’ll wake the rest of the house.”
“Is that all you can say to me? ‘Quiet, Samantha?’” she said, her voice hitting an hysterical high note. “You make me sick!” She backed away and slammed the door anew.
Roger reached for the doorknob and pushed his shoulder against the door, but it was already locked. Em grabbed his arm and kept him from driving a fist into it. “Don’t. You’ll wake everyone up. Give her a chance to calm down.”
For several moments Roger stood in front of the door, taking deep breaths. Finally, he backed away and said, “I’ll speak to her in the morning.”
“I’ll see you then, too.”
“No, come with me,” Roger said as he grasped her wrist and led her toward his bedroom. Em pulled back, her bare feet gripping the tiled floor. She wasn’t about to add anything to Samantha’s arsenal.
“No.”
Roger stopped. “I just want to show you something.”
Slipping her arm free, Em started for the stairs. “Then bring it downstairs.” She scurried away before he had a chance to object.
Her heart was racing. She empathized with Samantha and wished she could minimize her pain, yet she also wanted to bask in Roger’s arms. One part of her hoped Roger wouldn’t follow her. She wasn’t sure she could control this longing, this need to be with him.
When she reached the kitchen, Em opened the refrigerator and enjoyed the cool air it offered. For several moments she examine the contents, looking for something to calm her nerves. Milk. That always worked in the past. She took out the container of low-fat milk and poured herself a glass. When she heard the scuff of footsteps on the stairs, she sank onto a chair at the kitchen table and clutched the cold glass of milk in a viselike grip.
“You in here?” Roger asked and switched on the kitchen light. She placed her hand over her eyes to cut the glare. “Sorry.” Immediately the lights dimmed to a soft glow. “Here,” Roger said, placing a tiny, square, blue-velvet-covered box in front of her.
Em’s hand convulsed, and she nearly tipped over her milk on the table. It couldn’t be! It looked like an engagement-ring box with a small embossed gold diamond on the top. She tried catching her breath. They hadn’t even had their first date. And this certainly didn’t come off as the most romantic proposal.
“What is it?” she asked, afraid to let her thoughts continue down the road they were traveling.
Roger reached across the kitchen table and popped open the box. Two diamonds sent rainbows of color skittering across the wall and ceiling. “Samantha’s earrings, although I’m not sure I want to give them to her at this point, after the way she acted tonight.”
Em couldn’t respond. She was too busy admonishing herself for being stupid, idiotic, and just plain crazy. How could she have had the audacity to imagine Roger might propose marriage?
“What do you think? Will
she like them?” While Em stared, mesmerized by the diamonds’ sparkle, he continued, “They’re not too small are they?”
Em cleared her throat. “Um, ah, no. They’re beautiful. She’ll love them.”
He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “It’s late. We’d better get to bed.” Once on her feet, Em took off for her room.
You’re the world’s worst fool, she scolded herself. Just because he’s said he likes you doesn’t mean he’s interested in marriage. Tears started the moment her head touched the pillow, and she spent most of the night muffling her sobs. She didn’t get to sleep until the sun brightened the horizon.
* * *
IT WAS MORNING, close to eight o’clock when Roger came down for breakfast. All three boys greeted him with requests for his participation in some athletic sport. “Not now,” Roger said as he seated himself at the table. He smiled at Em, who was busy buttering toast, and gave Doris a nod. She winked and pointed to her ring finger. He quickly looked away. The last thing he needed was someone noticing the conspiracy between them.
“Today’s Samantha’s birthday. Has she come down?”
“Old sour ball,” Chaz said.
Chip came over and wrapped an arm around Roger’s shoulder. “She doesn’t get up in the morning when there’s no school.”
“Oh, why not?” Roger didn’t direct the question at anyone in particular, but Doris answered him as she poured his coffee.
“The princess doesn’t care to communicate with the local riffraff and stays pretty much in her room. On occasion, when she thinks we need instruction on how to live our lives, she’ll grace us with her company.”
Roger slammed his fork onto the table and looked at Em. “Since when?” She glanced up but turned her attention to the boys.
“If you’re finished, take your bowls over to the sink, and go out and play.”
“You going to give it to her, Dad?” Chip asked as he followed Em’s instructions.
Chaz joined in with, “Samantha bosses us around and starts trouble.”
Sammy didn’t say anything, but his serious scowl and silent nod spoke volumes.
“Go on boys.” Doris shooed them to the back door. “When I finish in here, we can play baseball.” Reluctantly, they did as they were told.
“Is anyone going to enlighten me?”
“Her whole behavior changed right after you left for Seattle the first time,” Em said in her soft voice.
“That was over a month ago, and I’m just hearing about this now?”
Doris let out a prolonged sigh. “We thought we could handle it.”
“You had so many worries and problems dealing with work,” Em added, “and we didn’t want to add...”
“Get this straight, you two.” Roger picked up his fork and shook it at them both. “My family comes first no matter what other problems I may have. What’s going on with Samantha?”
“She’s been fighting with everyone—me, Em, the boys. So far no problems with school, but that can’t be far behind.”
“And you didn’t think this was important enough to mention it to me?” Roger tossed his napkin on the table and started to stand. “I’m getting to the bottom of this.”
Doris grabbed his arm and sat him back down. “There’s more. Em, tell him.”
Em sat with her elbows on the table, her chin pressed into her clasped hands. “She’s been going into rages, similar to last night, accusing me of having sex with you.”
Gripping the edge of the table, Roger sat back in astonishment. “What?”
“Nothing I say seems to calm her. And she’s told other people, as well. Jodie, for sure, and maybe her grandmother Millie. She talks with her almost every day.”
Roger reached for Em’s hand. “Did these calls from Millie begin right after I left?”
Em nodded. “I think so. Millie won’t talk to Mom or me.”
Doris piped up. “That’s not true. She’s lectured me a few times. Says I’m not fit to run this household. And told me she didn’t like my accent. My accent! I’ve lived in Arizona all my life. What kind of accent could I have?” Doris squinted and stared at the ceiling. “Called me trash on one occasion. Probably was when I told her she could take her opinion and put it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Mother, you didn’t.”
“Wouldn’t talk to me after that, but she’s sure been giving Samantha an earful.”
Roger pushed his chair away. Millie. So destructive. Not only would he get to the bottom of this, he’d keep that woman from ever interfering with his family again. Grandmother or not, he wouldn’t allow her to create discord among the people he loved.
He sat back. “Your accent? You don’t have an accent.”
“That’s what I said.” Doris became concerned and leaned across the table. “She’s confusing me with Sophia, isn’t she?”
“That seems unlikely. She knows Sophia left more than a month ago.” Roger scowled, and glanced at his watch. “Excuse me. I’ve got to make a call.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“SAMANTHA,” ROGER SAID when he tapped on her door. He tried the doorknob. Locked. Putting more muscle behind his next knock, he raised his voice. “Samantha, open this door. Now!”
“Jus’ a minute,” a sleepy voice said.
Teenagers. One minute you have them all figured out, and then they pull a 180. Samantha had actually been human before, during and after their trip to Sophia’s wedding. A person whose company he enjoyed, someone who treated everyone with respect. What had happened to create these problems?
He counted to thirteen before the lock clicked. Waited still longer until she opened the door. “Whatcha want?” Samantha said through a yawn. She adjusted a white robe over her light blue pajamas as he entered the room.
Roger fought to control his anger. He strode to a chair, dropped a pile of clothes to the floor and sat.
“It’s your birthday. Thought I’d come up and give you your present.” He opened his hand and showed the little blue box that he’d been clutching. She responded with wide-open eyes and a mouth forming a round O. Good. Her desire for material goods had woken her.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said reaching for the gift, her grin of pleasure softening the anger he had accumulated. Roger leaned over, elbows on his thighs, and grasped the box between his hands, keeping it out of her reach. “First take a seat,” he said, staring at the box. “I have to talk to you.”
When he looked up, Samantha had shuffled to her bed, arms crossed over her chest, a look of scalding distrust on her face. He waited until she sat down before he began.
What could he say that would make sense to Samantha? How did one discuss with a fourteen-year-old daughter the subject of sex? Since starting up those stairs to Samantha’s room, he’d formulated several approaches. Now he felt tongue-tied.
“Soooo.” Samantha raised her eyebrows. “What trick am I supposed to perform to get my gift?”
Hoping to stall longer, Roger cleared his throat.
“Well?”
“I understand you’ve been telling people Em and I are...” He couldn’t say the word and thought of several euphemisms before settling on “...fooling around.”
Samantha pressed her lips together.
“Where did you get that idea?” he continued.
She looked away, suddenly fascinated with something in the corner of her room.
“Let me tell you here and now, we aren’t and we haven’t.” She sat straighter, focusing on something closer to him. “Em made a promise to you, and we’re abiding by it.”
Samantha turned to face him. “You mean what she said about doing it only when she’s married?”
Roger nodded.
“But you’d go ahead if she hadn’t promised?”
Roger didn’t like the tone of Samantha’s voice. He felt heat rising in his neck. Why was being honest with his daughter so hard? “I’m attracted to her.”
“Like you were to my mother?”
He swallowed. Could this possibly get harder? “Something like that.”
Samantha guffawed, a forced laugh totally lacking any humor.
“We’re not married, so we’re not doing it.” He expected his precise words and no-nonsense tone would finally put an end to the conversation.
“You weren’t married to Mom.”
Roger stood and scratched the back of his head. “That was different. Your mother and I were young and...naive.” He could say stupid, but he never liked that word. “We didn’t exercise any control.”
Samantha’s expression went from serious to puzzled in a matter of moments. “You’re kissing all the time.”
Certainly not all the time. Too few times, as far as he was concerned. “Is that what you’re basing all this on, because kissing isn’t...” His insides might be blushing, but he strained to keep his face muscles under control. Roger plopped back against the chair. “You know the difference, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then why are you telling tales, making things up about Em and me? Do you have any idea how much these stories hurt?”
Samantha made a choking sound not much different from a sob.
“Has any of this come from your talks with Grandma Millie?”
“She talks to me all the time,” Samantha said in a high-pitched voice that tore at his heart. “She says you and Em are living in sin. And it’s worse than what you did to my mother, getting her pregnant with me. She says you’re both going to burn in hellfire.”
Roger flew to his daughter’s side and cradled her in his arms before he even realized he had left his chair. “Oh, honey. I had no idea she was filling you with such nonsense.”
Samantha continued to cry as though a dam had broken. Through halting sobs, she said, “I was a mistake. Nobody wanted me.”
Just Like Em Page 18
