“Are your brothers the reason for the hair pulling hard limit?” Sam asked, reading my mind.
“Yes. It takes me back to when I was little, and I hated it when they pulled my hair.”
“Did you know your father?” Sam asked.
“Not really. I was only in kindergarten when he left. He left when my mom was pregnant with my youngest brother. All of us kids are about two years apart.”
“Did you guys see him after he left?”
“No. He didn’t want kids, I guess. But our mom did the best she could with us. She worked two jobs and often had to leave us home alone on the weekends so she could work her part-time job. We had Saturday morning cartoons, so we were fine, and the neighbor lady would call a few times each day to check on us.”
“Do you still see your mom and brothers?”
“Yeah. I see them here and there. Holidays and birthdays. Anyhow, enough of my storytelling. You have Josh and me at a disadvantage. How about you tell us about your family?”
I was glad she’d asked because I was really interested in hearing about the masterful Sam.
“Alright, fair enough. I’m one of four kids in our family. I have a biological older brother and sister, and one younger sister that we adopted. Both of my parents were emergency room physicians, though my mom will always bring up that she’s a crafter at heart. They met while serving in the Air Force as doctors.”
“Ah, that explains why you’re strict. You’re military offspring,” Ali teased, causing Sam to laugh. His laughter even made me smile.
“I wouldn’t say that I’m strict … maybe that I like discipline would be a fair assessment.”
“Were your parents strict?” Ali asked.
“Looking back, I don’t think they were. Back then, I did. But no, they raised us to be polite and respectful.”
“Tell us about your mom, the crafter,” Ali requested.
Sam laughed as he recalled memories.
“When we were younger, there were a few days during the week that my mom had off work. She’d pick us up from school, and we’d drive into a less fortunate part of town to a rec center. She’d teach art and do craft projects with the kids. My brother, sister, and I would help her pass out the materials and assist the kids who needed help. Our parents were both compassionate and believed that if you weren’t doing something good each day to try to reach someone, then you weren’t putting your best foot forward. They were firm believers that unless you give kids opportunities in sports and the arts, that you may miss the next Picasso or Michael Jordan. There was never an unhappy face at the art classes. They instilled in us that we were fortunate and had an advantage over many kids because we had both parents in the home. We were raised to be kind and respectful to everyone, and we were always sent to school with something extra in our lunch bags in case there was a classmate in need. They also made sure each of us understood that needs came in many forms and it wasn’t only categorized by the kid with little to eat or clothes that didn’t fit him.”
I was really impressed. You see or hear about families like Sam’s, but I had never known any personally. If I had, my sister and I might have been in different circumstances, and maybe she wouldn’t have taken her life. I wondered if any friends or teachers had ever considered if Jolie and I were in need but never said anything.
Sam paused, and I was so curious how they came to adopt his younger sister that I asked.
“How did you guys adopt your sister? Or how did that come about, is what I meant to ask.”
“She was left on the bench by the emergency room. Staff noticed her, brought her in, and called the police. My dad was working the day she was found. He said the security tapes showed a woman wearing a hat and sunglasses approached the emergency room, set the girl down, and walked away.”
“That’s so sad. What’s wrong with people?” Ali sighed and snuggled closer to Sam.
“It is sad, yes. However, that woman leaving the girl there turned out to be the best thing for her. She could have kept the kid without caring about her or being able to care for her. Or worse, she could have neglected or abused her. So leaving her at a hospital and walking away was for the best. My parents talked to us, and we agreed as a family to take her in. She was only a few years younger than me, but I remember feeling really proud to be a big brother.”
“Oh my God. You already have a picture-perfect family,” Ali teased. “Keep going, Sam. Tell us about your siblings. What did they all end up becoming?”
Sam started to rub his thumb over my upper arm, almost as if he was trying to tell me not to feel bad or ashamed about not coming from such a good place. James was the only other person who knew about my past, and he never made me feel as though I were beneath him or anyone else.
“My older brother is a flight instructor for the military, and my older sister and younger sister both became pediatricians.”
“Aw, your parents must be proud, I bet,” Ali mused. “Do you all still see one another, or are they in different cities and states?”
“They’re all here in the L.A. area except for my brother. He’s down in Miramar.”
“Do they all have families of their own?” Ali questioned.
“They do.”
