She pulled back, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I made tuna noodle casserole. That used to be your favorite.”
“It’s still my favorite.”
She started crying again. Ian put an arm around her. “Don’t cry, Mom. It’s okay.”
“I’ll try.” She smiled and gave a nervous laugh, and the tears started again. “It’s just that it’s been so long.”
“Ten years.”
“Ten years,” she repeated as if confirming it to himself.
“Here,” Ian took the casserole and proceeded to help her set the table. “I don’t know where you keep things, but I want to help you out.”
She was frail, too thin. She wasn’t like he remembered. No one and nothing was.
He’d ended up telling her everything from his trial to the endless days in prison to what parole was like to how he’d gotten reacquainted with Sam when his mother had asked how he’d felt about Sam.
Ian had spilled out everything as if he’d been sharing details with his mother for years when in fact this was the only close conversation they’d ever had in his life. It felt good. Beyond good. He had family. He no longer felt like an outcast. He had a sense of belonging, purpose. Even his parole officer, whom he’d had a meeting with this morning, had noticed, had said speaking to his family—even though his sister was less than receptive to him—had been a progressive move forward. Family support was one of the most important tools to staying clean on the outside, he’d said. And that felt good. Damn good.
And it was all because of Sam.
~ * ~
Ian arrived at the diner a little before 9 a.m., just after his parole meeting. Parking his truck in the back alley, he entered the diner through the storage room. He heard the shouting all the way from outside. Ian hurried to the dining room where Chrissy and Martha stood in the middle of the room. The place was packed, and they were ringside and Sam was the referee.
“I can’t believe you’re not going to fire her!”
“Martha, please stop.” Sam was pouring coffee and trying to calm Martha at the same time. “She didn’t mean to mess up the orders. We’re all busy and overworked. Mistakes happen.”
“And they keep happening! She doesn’t learn. She’s too busy talking about her boyfriend and doesn’t listen to what the customers are ordering.”
“And how is that different from you telling us about your argument with Bill this morning?” Burt didn’t look up for his breakfast. “It’s not Chrissy’s fault that your husband’s an asshole.”
Customers stared, wide-eyed and shocked.
Chrissy burst into tears and ran into the kitchen.
“Chrissy!” Burt called. “Chrissy, don’t be upset. Poor little girl. I don’t know if I should go after her or just let her calm down.”
“So Chrissy’s taken now.” Fred sat at the counter drinking his coffee thoughtfully. He shook his head.
“Yep.” Tom forked a huge pile of home fries and stuck them in his mouth. “Here I thought she liked me the whole time.”
Ian caught Sam and quickly gave her a peck on the cheek. “Mornin’.”
“Hi.” She smiled.
Her smile always made his heart skip a beat. “I talked to Mom.”
“Yeah?” She smiled as she went down the line pouring coffee. “How’d it go?”
Ian made more coffee. “Good. Really well, actually.”
“That’s great. We’ll talk more tonight, okay?”
“Okay.” Ian brushed a lock of Sam’s hair back over her ear. Sam had enough on her plate with running the diner. She didn’t need this mess with Martha and Chrissy. He wished he could do something for her to smooth her life out.
“Hi, Ian.”
Ian turned to see his sister, Roxy and her son, Teddy, standing by the front door.
“Hi, Roxy.” He approached them. He knelt and smiled at Teddy. “Hi, Ted.”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” He stood eye level with his sister.
“We came for breakfast.” Roxy’s smile was tentative, cautious.
“Well, c’mon.” Ian grabbed two menus and motioned her to follow. “There’s a table back here. Can I get you some coffee?”
“Sure, but can you sit with us?” She removed Teddy’s jacket and sat.
Sam was watching him as she waited tables. He saw Roxy’s wide-eyed look of encouragement and reluctantly sat across from her. Nerves tightened. Last time he’d seen his sister, she had nothing but scorn for him. Now…why the change?
“Mom said you came over the other day.”
And there it was. “I did,” he answered.
“She never gave up on you.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she frantically brushed them away. “Not like I did.”
Ian couldn’t resist the urge to grab her hand. He squeezed her fingers with his, and to his surprise, she caught him in an embrace. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“I’m sorry too. I’ve wanted to make peace with you for a while. I was so messed up and confused about everything. Then I was too ashamed to talk to you.” The diner was packed, but Ian didn’t care. He hugged his sister tightly, feeling the weight immediate lift from him. For the first time in so many years, he wondered if everything would be okay. Maybe…just maybe.
“Teddy, this is your Uncle Ian I told you about.”
Teddy smiled. At him. “You own this place?”
“No, bud. I work here. You get anything you want for breakfast. It’s on me.”
“Maybe you two can go to the zoo or something sometime together,” Roxy offered.
“You mean it?”
“Today?”
Ian and Teddy spoke at once, and Roxy laughed. “Yes, I mean it, but not today, Ted. Uncle Ian has to work.”
“Awww!”
“How about this Sunday?” Ian ruffled Teddy’s hair. “I’m free then.”
“Okay.”
He turned to Roxy, gave her a quick hug. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Maybe I do.”
Ian was about to go back to the kitchen when Pete Maitland’s voice boomed above every other conversation. “Mom? Mom!”
Sam’s mother, who had been sitting at the counter, was now slumped, about ready to fall off her stool. Sam held her as she melted to the floor.
Time stopped as Ian leapt over the counter and caught Madelaine’s head and cradled it to prevent her from slamming her skull on the hard tile. “Call 911! Madelaine? Madelaine!”
Madelaine was clutched her chest. “Hurts.”
“Don’t speak. It’ll be okay. We’re gonna get you help. Just hang in there.” Customers had gathered around him like gawkers at a sideshow. “Get back. Give her space!”
Sam pushed them aside. “Step back. Please.”
Chrissy pushed through the crowd. “Oh my God! That’s Sam’s mom. What happened?”
“Don’t make her talk.”
“Get him away from her,” Ian heard someone shout, “before he kills again.”
Ian tried not to panic. He tried not to imagine how scared Sam must be. Just exactly how old was she? Sixty? Why wasn’t help coming faster?
He felt her neck for a pulse, but his hands were shaking too badly to register one. In prison he had taken a CPR class. At the time he’d just took it for something to do, but now. How many presses on the chest was it again?
“Somebody stop him!”
He tilted Madelaine’s head and lifted her chin. Pressing two fingers in her mouth, he felt for an obstruction but found nothing.
Thirty. Start with thirty chest compressions.
“Didn’t anyone call 911?”
“They’re on their way,” Tom Benson answered.
“What the hell’s taking them so long?”
Ian felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder. “Save her, Ian. Please.”
~ * ~
“I’m sorry. Due to HIPAA laws, I can’t tell you about her condition. You’ll have to wait for her family o
r she will have to consent herself.”
Sam came around the corner to meet Ian. He’d phoned her that he was coming to the hospital. She found him leaning against the counter of the reception desk, getting nowhere with the woman running the switchboard.
The receptionist’s look was apologetic. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. He’s with me.”
Ian rushed her, grabbing her hand and squeezing so hard, it hurt. “How is she?”
“She hasn’t woken up yet. They have her hooked up to so many tubes.” Sam fought the urge to cry. She didn’t know what to think about anything, except that she was exhausted. It had been a terrible day, and the only thing Sam wanted was to turn back the clock.
Chrissy had volunteered to keep the diner open, said it would keep her mind off things. Chrissy wasn’t good with money so Sam had called Martha in just in case. Hopefully they weren’t fighting.
She wondered what Aunt Jean would think of all this. Most likely, she would laugh off the little things, claiming they were all little things. Aunt Jean would be worried sick about Mother. As it were, Mother was all alone, and if anything happened to her…
They walked down the long, cold hall to the room where Mother lay hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires. The nurses had warned Sam of the shock she would feel upon seeing her like that for the first time. It hadn’t gotten any easier throughout the afternoon.
Except Mother’s eyes were now open.
Sam rushed to her side. Theresa was there and sat on one side of the bed. “She just woke up.”
A hot tear welled and flowed down Sam’s cheek. She smiled, took her hand that didn’t have an IV inserted in it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m alive.”
Ian stood over the bed. Mother stared at him, her eyes wide and questioning. “Y-you saved my life.”
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“I scared the hell out of me, too.” Mother raised her voice. “All these damn doctors want to do is stick me full of needles and give me a bunch of pills.”
“They said it wasn’t a heart attack. Angina.” Theresa’s expression was thoughtful, as if she wanted to ease her worry.
“That’s wonderful…that it wasn’t an actual heart attack.” Sam breathed a sigh of relief. It suddenly dawned on her just how poorly Mother took care of herself. She ate muffins or bagels with real cream cheese, not the fat free kind, nearly every morning. She was partially to blame for killing her. She was always pushing the fresh made doughnuts her way when she came in for coffee. “Not yet anyway. Which means a change in diet for you. It’s turkey bacon and egg whites from now on. No more sweets.”
“I’d rather die.”
“You will if you keep on your diet.” She was determined not to let her die. Maybe she could get her started on some sort of exercise program. Walking every morning or something.
“Glad you came back.” She mumbled something else Sam couldn’t understand. Her words were slurred, barely audible. She reached her hand out and Sam took it. Her grip was weak. Mother soon drifted off to sleep.
Sam kissed her forehead. “I’ll come see you tomorrow, Mom.”
Theresa stood. Mascara smeared down her face. She was just as exhausted as Sam. She took both of Ian’s hands. “Thank you, Ian. You saved her life. I don’t know what would have happened had you not done what you did.”
“She would have been okay.”
“No.” Theresa shook her head. “She would have died, and you saved her.”
Theresa fiercely hugged Ian, then as if remembering who he was, she pulled away. “Thank you for coming.”
“Glad to help,” Ian softly answered.
Sam hugged her sister goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
Ian waved as he placed a hand on the small of Sam’s back to lead her out of the room. When they were far enough away, Sam gripped Ian’s bicep. “Did you hear what Mom said? She said she was glad I came back to Cold Springs.”
“So am I.”
“She really said it. Maybe it was the drugs, but—”
“It wasn’t the drugs. I think Theresa’s glad you’re back too. She needs you. They both need you. Now more than ever.”
“More than ever,” Sam repeated. She ran her hand down Ian’s arm and intertwined her fingers with his. Everything would be different now. Perhaps she and Theresa would finally be close, like normal siblings. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but now it seemed like there was a chance. And it felt good.
They reached Ian’s truck, and Sam got in the driver’s side and slid across the seat. Weeks of stress suddenly built up all at once. The constant work and worry about the bottom line, the problems with Mother and Theresa. Just when she thought she and Theresa were finally developing some sort of relationship, the rug had been pulled out from under them. And now Mother’s health…lying there alone and connected to all those tubes. The same thing could happen to her, and Sam’s family would never know how much she loved and appreciated them. Sam didn’t want to lose them. Not when there was so much at stake. Life was short and precious.
She wasn’t going to let that slip away.
Ian hopped in behind the wheel. “Hey, it’ll be all right. Your mom’s going to pull through.”
“Tell me about your family,” she demanded. She suddenly wanted to hear him talking about them, something she had never heard from him before.
“I already did.”
“No, you told me about your sister and the bad things that happened. You never told me anything good. Tell me something good.”
He was quiet for a long while. “My grandmother was always happy. I spent a lot of summers at her place upstate. She had a canoe. Us kids would use it and go all over the back streams with it. It was real tippy. We fished and caught snakes and frogs. I never forgot those summers.”
Sam pictured Ian as a carefree child playing in the muddy waters and let the thought settle on her like a warm blanket. She laid her head on Ian’s shoulder.
She must have drifted off to sleep or a deep, relaxed consciousness, but she drifted to thoughts of Ian, where they’d been and how far they’d come. Cold Springs had never held any expectations for love in Sam’s world, but what she had with Ian, whatever it was that they shared in these few short weeks…love? Could you actually come to love someone so quickly?
Sam didn’t want Ian to see her crying over this, over loneliness. Such a silly emotion. One in which she never gave a second thought before she came back to Cold Springs. She’d always been too busy, not that she wasn’t busy now. This was difficult here in Cold Springs. She didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to look back on her life and have nothing but regret.
Ian held her and she leaned into his embrace. He was rock solid and warm, his closeness promising that everything would be all right.
She reached for her purse for a tissue but remembered she’d left it at the diner in her rush to the hospital. Everything but tissues billowed out of his cup holders. She opened the glove compartment. A small black box popped out and fell onto the floor, hitting her big toe.
~ * ~
Ian had no idea what was going through Sam’s mind as she bent to pick up the ring box. He shouldn’t have left it there. He shouldn’t have bought the ring period.
Suddenly the regret didn’t matter anymore. It no longer mattered that this wasn’t the right time or the right place. When would the timing or place ever be perfect? Life wasn’t perfect.
Life was precious, and if you didn’t grab hold of what you wanted, it would pass you by. He wanted Sam. In his life. Always.
He took the box from her and opened it. Sam’s expression was questioning, confused. No doubt she didn’t expect this. She would say it was too soon, that their relationship had been rushed. That they hadn’t taken enough time and that it would never work. Too many expectations, too little stability. “Sam.”
“Yes.”
Sam nodded. “Yes.”
Ian laughed. “I haven’t asked you yet.”
“I don’t care.” Sam leaned into his arms.
“I love you.” His voice broke. He kissed her neck, her ears, her eyes. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I was too stupid to realize it.”
“Me too.” Sam kissed him back. “And we were both too stupid to realize it.”
EPILOGUE
Three months later
“You may kiss the bride.”
Cheers bellowed out. Sam squeezed her eyes shut as a hail of coffee beans pelted her and Ian. Ian caught her in another embrace as they laughed.
The diner was full of everyone they loved as horns from cars drove by honking from the marriage announcement Burt had hung over the front door.
Second Chance (Cold Springs Series Book 1) Page 13
