“Why are you laughing at my daughter, Samuel?” Cami asks, a sternness to her brows.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m laughing because Xav and I are so screwed. She’s going to get asked on so many dates, and I’m going to want to chase them all away,” I explain.
“Nope, she’s not allowed to date, ever. She is going to live with her mother and me until she’s at least forty and then there’s the convent.” Xav says it like he’s serious, but I can tell by the goofy grin on his face that all it will take is one little smile from her and he will jump to make her dreams come true.
“What’s her name?” Bridget asks.
Xav and Cami exchange a look, before turning to me with cheesy grins.
“Well, we are pretty sure we have one picked out, but we want to run it by you first,” Xav says, coming around the bed to stand next to me and slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“We would like to name her Samantha. Sammy for short,” Cami announces.
It feels like the ground beneath my feet quakes, my knees are weak. Tears stream down my face as I quickly cover it with both hands. I’ve had a shit week. I’ve been at my lowest emotionally, but this reminds me that I’m never alone. I have a found family in addition to my actual one.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I choke out. “Give me my baby, Cami,” I demand, holding my hands out to grab the cutest little bundle I’ve ever seen.
“Wait, you’re serious? Why him?” Bridget asks, smirking at the scoff that rips from my lips.
“Very funny, clearly they want her to be cool like her uncle,” I spit out, heading to a chair to sit and rock Sammy.
“Should have gone with Maxine if that’s the case,” Max throws in.
“We chose you because you’re the best friend a guy could ask for. When I was hanging on by a thread after the accident, you never left my side. You’re my brother, and I hope she grows up to have your generosity, your kindness, and your huge-ass heart,” Xav explains. There isn’t a dry eye in the place when I pry my stare off the baby and look around.
“Speaking of his heart, are you going to show him?” Cami asks, picking up Xav’s phone from the side table and shaking it back and forth.
“Show me what?”
“So, remember how I said that Olive was going to come around a lot sooner than you thought? Well, she spent the day with Mabel, and I got this message about ten minutes after the baby was born,” Xav says, pulling up a picture and showing me.
It’s a note, handwritten and held open by my mother’s hand. There’s a message from Olive saying she is sorry and wants to talk. Below that is another message from my mom that reads,Go get my daughter-in-law back or you’re out of the family, with aheart next to it. I laugh, a deep, rolling belly laugh that startles Sammy and causes Xav to lift her from my arms.
“Wait, is it funny?” Bridget asks, clearly confused.
“Your mom is funny,” Cami confirms as Xav hands her the phone to look at the picture. Max shakes his head and starts laughing right along with me when he gets a glimpse.
“What are you waiting on?” Cami asks.
“I, uh, yeah. I don’t know . . . I’m gonna go.”
I stand and head for the door, stopping only to briefly admire my namesake once more before waltzing out the door.
“Bring her with you when you come back tomorrow,” Xav bellows after me.
I hit the elevator button approximately twelve times as the anxiety of waiting to hear what Olive has to say eats a hole through my brain. I’m in love with her, hopelessly and irrevocably. Am I upset by what she did, or rather, how she did it? Yes. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with her.
Once I’m on the first floor, I all but sprint to my truck and slide in, firing it up and speeding out of the parking lot. The trip to Olive’s is less than ten minutes, but I don’t know how long she spent at my parents’ or when she was expecting me. The sun has set. I glance at the clock on my dashboard, noting it’s just after eight.
I turn onto her street and am floored with the sight coming into view. It’s like the very first time I saw her at home, when I delivered the Reuben after watching her leave Union hungry. She’s swaying slightly on the swing, her strawberry blonde hair almost twinkling in the light that hangs above her porch.
I pull up to the curb and park, shutting off the truck. Before I get out, I take a deep breath. I know what the letter said, but I don’t know what to expect her to say. She could want to talk, to resolve things—but there’s a lot of hurt too. I’m hurt. Musteringmy courage, I slide from my seat and approach. As my feet hit the first step of the porch, Olive and I make eye contact.
She blows out what sounds like a relieved sigh and says, “Thank you for coming.”
“Well, to be fair, no one says no to Mabel . . . But of course, I came.” I attempt to throw a little humor into the mix. The tension between us is so thick you could cut it with a knife, and deep inside I think she needs a moment of relief as much as I do. Taking her in as I cross the remaining distance, I notice her eyes are sunken like she hasn’t slept well and her nose is a little pink like she’s been crying.
“I-I’m so sorry, Sam. I was so stupid and scared, and everything was so chaotic. It wasn’t your fault. You did everything right, and I hurt you. I didn’t know if you were coming, and I just, I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says, her words barely audible as they float across the night air.
