Sam had never seen his mother rendered quite this speechless. Silence was loud in the air as his mother had a kind of war with herself.
It was still dark out when his father joined them. Sam’s father told stories about Sam as a boy, and Samantha gobbled them up. Sam sank into the sofa, sipped his bourbon and allowed the warmth of his family to envelop him in a way that it hadn’t for almost twenty-five years.
Just before sunrise, Paige peeked in and retreated to the kitchen before returning with a tray of mugs, bringing the aroma of fresh coffee with her. She smiled at Sam as she curled up in the chair across from him, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. Her attention was on Hema and Samantha as their conversation continued.
Sam hadn’t heard his mother laugh like this since Arjun was alive. Both Sam and John just watched as Samantha unknowingly revealed a woman that both Sam and his father had thought was lost to them forever. The glow on his mother’s face was a direct result of Samantha’s presence. His mother could have been this happy all these years, if Maya hadn’t kept Samantha from them, and anger soured the moment of bliss. He shoved the anger away for another day. Today, he wanted to enjoy his parents’ happiness.
Sam traded his empty bourbon glass for a mug of coffee and tried to catch his fiancée’s eye, but she was focused on his mother. Concern grew on her face as she quietly watched the exchange between grandmother and granddaughter.
They laughed and talked while the sun came up on Christmas morning, at which point Samantha stood and stretched. “Aren’t we going to church?”
Sam’s mother stared at her, speechless. Sam stood and shrugged at his mother. “Apparently, Maya takes her to church every Christmas.”
Something flickered in his mother’s eyes, but before Sam could place it, the laughter was back. “Well then, we better get dressed.”
Back in his room with Paige, Sam plopped down on his bed as she prepared to shower.
“I haven’t seen your mother this happy—ever,” she said.
Paige was right. Sam did not respond; he felt the anger returning.
“I mean, don’t you think it’s great how Samantha seems to be able to bring out the best in your mom? She’s even talking about your brother.”
Sam remained silent.
“Sam?” Paige wrapped her arms around him. “What’s the matter?”
Sam pulled out of her arms. “Imagine if my mom had had Samantha for the past fifteen years. She could have been this happy all along.” His heart hammered and blood pulsed in his head. “Mayarobbed my family of this.”
Paige stepped back from him, her eyes blazing. “Your mother is truly happy for the first time in years, and all you can think about is Maya?”
“Of course, I’m thrilled to see my mom and dad happy.” Sam set his jaw. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Do I?” She looked disgusted as she went for her shower.
By the time Sam finished getting dressed, Paige was already downstairs. He hadn’t stayed up all night in years, so he headed to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. His mother and Paige were speaking in hushed tones in the kitchen and he caught the tail end of their conversation.
“He blames Maya completely.” Paige sounded worried.
“As he should.”
“But Mom, that’s not...”
“It doesn’t matter, beti. Trust me. This is best.” His mother was firm, ending the discussion as he entered the kitchen.
“Talking about me again?”
“Only the best things, beta.” His mother patted his cheek. “Now grab that coffee to go and let’s get in the car. Where is that granddaughter of mine?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
MAYA
New York, 2013
MAYAAPPROACHEDTHEback entrance to her apartment carrying a large package while trying to balance multiple grocery bags, one of which included the eggs she needed to bake today. She fumbled and strained with the packages as she reached for her key.
“Hey, Maya.” Sam’s voice startled her. She dropped the bag with the eggs and teetered as she tried not to drop the package. Sam caught her, his hands on her back, before she fell. He was dressed for work, precisely tailored dress coat over what must be a nicely fitted designer suit and he smelled so completely masculine—like leather and soap—it was all Maya could do to not lean into him.
