Fifteen Seconds
Inspiration: "C'mon, six of my mom's best relationships started in fifteen seconds!" -Sam Puckett, iSpeed Date
It was dark inside the unfinished basement and Sarah Elizabeth Puckett could barely see the guy sitting next to her. He was talking about something, blowing smoke from a joint into her face, but she wasn't listening at all. It was New Year's Eve and this time last year, she would have been at her family's home with her two brothers and mother, ringing in the new year. Instead, here she was- red cup clutched in her left hand (it was filled with water, but it looked like vodka and that was good enough for her), rough material from the couch scratching her thighs, hair limp and unstyled.
She let the boy keep talking, and sometimes she nodded or smiled, hoping that he wouldn't catch onto her little game. The game called Make it Seem Like Everything's Okay. She sipped at her water, wishing that it was actually vodka. At one point, she almost got up to make the switch, but a flutter from her stomach caused her to hastily sit down.
The countdown to midnight began, and someone turned up the volume on the old TV in the corner. People were cheering drunkenly, some were already making out, and others- like the boy next to her- just completely ignored all of the excitement.
FIFTEEN.
She grimaced at the boy and said, "Sorry to ditch you at midnight, but I can't be here."
He frowned, said "Oh, c'mon, baby! What've you got to lose?" He motioned for her to stay, but his movement was uncoordinated and ashes from his joint fell onto her knee. She brushed them off and stood up at TEN. She walked away from the boy, leaving him in the middle of his sentence. She didn't look back to see whether his feelings were hurt- three ago, she might have been kind enough to do so, but not now.
Sarah walked towards the stairs that were littered with used joints, cigarette butts, and beer stains. She couldn't be here, couldn't do this.
SIX.
She hurried up the staircase and wound her way through the throng of people standing near the entryway. She shoved open the front door and was greeted by a shock of fresh cold air. She breathed it in, relishing in the fact that she coulnd't smell any weed or beer.
FIVE.. Sarah wrapped her arms around her chest as she unsteadily walked down the sidewalk because sometimes it was really hard to make herself walk away.
TWO. She stepped off the curb and into the arms of a stranger. Startled, she glanced up, and began to apologize, but he cut her off. "Will you be my midnight kiss?"
He didn't give her a chance to answer before his arms closed around her and gently pulled her closer, head angled towards hers, and then his lips were lightly touching hers.
ONE.
She kissed back, and for a second she forgot herself. She felt like Sarah Puckett again, not that girl. She forgot the lure of the drugs and alcohol that was so available at the party that she just left, forgot that her own family (none of them were perfect either) had kicked her out after she refused to get help for the drinking. For a second, she forgot about the baby growing inside of her.
He pulled away, and Sarah noted that his clothes didn't smell like weed and that his mouth didin't taste like alcohol.
ZERO.
"I'm Mike." He said sheepishly, and Sarah glanced up at him again. "Sarah." She replied softly, already moving out of his embrace, hands shaking (from wanting to drink or wanting this stranger, she wasn't sure.)
"So, Sarah, why aren't you inside partying? It's probably just getting started." Mike questioned, tone easy and posture relaxed.
She smiled half-heartedly. "Wasn't much of a party," she said ruefully. "It's kind of hard for me to be around that scene- I thought I could handle it, my friend wanted me to go, but it turns out I couldn't handle it, so here I am."
"Yeah, it's not really my scene." Mike admitted. "My friend Brian is the one throwing the party, I thought I'd put in an appearance. I'm definitely not a party animal, usually I'd just be hanging at home with my parents." He laughed easily.
Sarah smiled. "Me too."
"So why aren't you?" Mike questioned.
Sarah made a face, and Mike quickly answered "You don't have to answer, don't worry."
"No, it's okay." She shrugged. "I got really out of control last year, and my family couldn't deal with me anymore, so I moved out. We haven't talked since."
"Oh," said Mike. "So you have no other family?"
Sarah glanced down. "No, I do." She said, placing a hand on her stomach. "This is Samantha- Sam. At least, I think it's a girl- I hope it is. Otherwise, his name will just be Sam. "
Mike eyebrows shot up. "You're pregnant?" He whistled slowly. "That explains the no drinking, I guess. How far along?"
Sarah smiled and said, "Three months. I don't even remember his name, honestly. I found out three weeks later and haven't touched any of that stuff since."
"So you're doing this alone?" Mike asked, grasping her elbow and walking her down the sidewalk.
(She shouldn't trust this guy, shouldn't let him lead her into a near-dark neighborhood, but there was something about this guy that she knew she could trust. So she did, for the first time in a long time.)
"Yeah." Sarah answered. "I might give her up for adoption, I haven't decided yet. I don't really think I can do this whole mom thing."
"Hey, you never know," he shrugged, leading her to a small park and sitting down at a picni bench. She sat across from him, loving the feel of the cold wood on her thighs so much more than the rough couch.
"That's the point. I don't know!" Sarah said, getting frustrated, unsure as to why she was telling a complete stranger her life story. "I don't want to screw up her life."
Mike propped his head up on her hands. "But what if you're really great at it?" he questioned.
"I just don't think that I can do this alone. It's been so hard these past few months, staying away from the drinking and stuff- what'll happen when I don't have a fetus holding me accountable? What happens when I don't have to worry about birth defects or OD'ing?"
"I don't know." Mike said honestly. "But I do know that my mom raised me alone for the first ten years of my life before she finally met the love of her life. She said that everything she went through, being a single parent, was worth it. "
"Yeah, well, I don't believe in true love." Sarah said quietly. "So there goes that idea."
"I do." Mike said with a strange inflection in his voice.
"Do what?" Sarah said curiously. "Believe in true love?"
He simply nodded as an answer. She scrunched her nose at him, a blush gracing her cheeks for no reason at all.
They sat there talking for another hour before they got too cold, and then moved their conversation to a relatively clean 24-hour laundromat where they fed the machine eight times as they sat there talking (because the manager threatened to throw them out after he realized they weren't planning on doing any laundry).
They sat there talking in the bright yellow laundromat for eight hours, talking about everything and everything. Sarah was nineteen, Mike was twenty five. She was living with an old friend in a studio apartment all the way across town, while he was living in a loft just off of UW's campus, finishing up grad school for Engineering.
By the end of the night, Mike had offered to let Sarah move in with him. He insisted that "a place like that is no place for the baby. Even if you won't do it for you, do it for her."
She protested, saying that she was probably placing the baby up for adoption anyway, but he just responded, "So? You need space from all that stuff. You know it. It'll be easier from here on out, I swear. No strings attached."
"No strings?" She said warily. "I won't have to give you blow jobs every night or clean your place for you 24/7?"
He frowned. "Do you really think I'm that kind of guy?"
"No." She answered. "But I just had to check," with an impish smile.
Mike rolled his eyes. "Let's go get your stuff, okay?" Sarah agreed and they left in the middle of the eighth rinse cycle.
For the next six months, Sarah and Mike coexisted harmoniously. He went to school during the day and did homework at night, picking up shifts as an EMT on the weekends to make ends meet. Sarah got a job as a nanny for a couple living two floors below them, and made enough to take care of the bills while Mike took care of his tuition. They were happy. She usually cooked dinner on nights that she didn't have class and when he wasn't working, and he let her sleep in the bed while he made his permanent residence on the futon in the living room. They'd kissed twice in her second semester- once, while in the park on a lazy Saturday afternoon, and again in the kitchen after the ancient dishwasher overflowed and poured bubbles all over the floor.
When they got the news halfway into Sarah's fifth month that she was expecting twins, Sarah cried for three hours before Mike could finally calm her down. She told him in between sobs, "I can't have to. I can't. I'm worried enough about Sam without having to worry about another one." Nevertheless, they got through it and Mike started bringing home books like "What To Expect When You're Expecting: Twins!" He came home with a smile one day, and asked how Sarah felt about the name Melanie.
In her third trimester, Mike moved back into the bedroom and they did a lot more kissing. He bought a modest ring and slipped it onto her left ring finger while she was asleep, and when she saw it in the morning, she just smiled, said yes and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. The day after that, he brought home a baby doll from the training center at work and said "If I'm going to be a dad, I need to practice this whole diaper thing." So together, they figured out how to change a diaper. Then, he taught her infant CPR and first aid, and they practiced for hours.
Sarah still had her moments- she went to AA weekly but still felt the urge to drink. She had gone missing one night and still didn't remember what had happened or who she was with, but woke up the next morning sleeping in the doorway of their apartment. Mike wasn't perfect either- he had a tendency to stress out too much about school, which heightened the tension in the apartment. He oftentimes forgot to call when he had to stay late at work, which made Sarah worry.
But in the end, they loved each other and were better together than they were apart. As Sarah entered her third trimester and the due date was growing closer, they had a Big Talk and decided that Mike should be named as the baby's father.
Sarah should have known that it wouldn't last for long, shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. But she did, and it really hurt when it ended.
She got a call from one of Mike's coworkers on a Sunday afternoon that on the way back from a call, the ambulance was T-boned in an intersection. (One would think that people would recognize a siren and flashing light as a sign to get the hell out of the way, but apparently not.) Mike hadn't made it, but the hysterical five year old in the back had, and Sarah knows that that's what he would have wanted.
Sarah cried and screamed for hours, ignoring thumps from the neighboring apartments to quiet down. Her heart was broken- she had been in love with this man, this man who had brought her back to life and inspired her to get better and be better, for him and for the babies.
Over the next week, his parents and older sister, whom she'd all met several times, came by to help make arrangements and check on her and the due-any-day Baby Samantha. They came by one afternoon eight days after it happened, and two days after the funeral, and his Mother had an odd look on her face. The three of them filed into the loft, followed by a strange man wearing a cheap brown suit.
"Ms. Puckett?" He questioned. "I'm Will James, I was Mike's lawyer. Four days before the accident, he came to me and drafted a will. I'd like to share the contents of that will with you."
Bewildered, Sarah motioned for everyone to sit on the sparse living furniture, forcing herself to stay focused on Brown Suit, who cleared his throat several times before starting.
He willed his car to his sister, his books and other personal belongings to his parents, and to Sarah- the apartment which he had inherited from an uncle that had passed away three years prior.
"Wait." Sarah interrupted. "This apartment?"
Brown Suit nodded.
"This one?" Sarah asked in disbelief.
He nodded again, slowly, a little uncertain of her actions.
Mike's mom, Beth, leaned forward. "Honey, Mike inherited it. There's no mortgage. It's paid off. He wanted you and the babies to have a place to go in case anything ever", a sob ripped through her throat, "happened." She finished, blowing her nose with a tissue that Mike's dad gave her.
Sarah began to cry, and soon enough, Beth and Mike's sister joined in as well. Brown Suit and Mike's stepdad Andy sat quietly, waiting for the three women to compose themselves. They did so quickly, and Brown Suit efficiently pulled out a small stack of papers. "If you just sign where I mark, the property will be transferred over to your name."
Sarah did so, refusing to acknowledge the occasional tear drops that smeared the ink on the deed. They finished quickly, and then everyone was getting ready to leave. Mike's family gave her a hug, and Sarah said that she would keep in touch, but she knew she wouldn't. It hurt too much to look at Mike's mom and see his nose and eyes in her, too hard to look at his sister and see his sense of humor and awkward laugh.
One week later, Sarah gave birth to two identical beautiful baby girls with curly blond ringlets so like Sarah's own. She was in labor for hours, and all she could wish was that she had someone there with her. She delivered the girls and after the doctors had cleaned and weighed them, the nurses quickly handed Sam and Melanie to the young mother.
FIFTEEN.
Sarah was crying, not from pain or exhaustion, but from fear. As Melanie lay sleeping serenely in the crook of Sarah's right arm, Sam opened her eyes slowly as Sarah held her to her chest tightly. The baby's tiny finger curled around Sarah's ring finger an squeezed lightly, fingernails scratching oh-so-lightly at Sarah's skin.
TWELVE.
Sam twisted her fingers around the tiny diamond on the gold band, squeezing it lightly. She yawned, smacking her lips and whimpering for food.
NINE.
Sarah nestled the babies close against her chest, in awe of these tiny creatures, but so afraid to do this without Mike.
SIX.
As Sam fed, a nurse brought over a clipboard with two blank Birth Certificates attached. The date, time of birth and official numbers were all filled out, as long as the doctor's signature. The only part left for Sarah to do was to write her name, the baby's name, and the father's name.
THREE.
The first two parts were easy enough. SARAH ELIZABETH PUCKETT. SAMANTHA MICHAELA PUCKETT. The last part wasn't so easy, and the nurse saw her struggle. "You don't have to put a name. Or you can put unknown."
ONE.
"It's not unknown." Sarah said bluntly. "He's dead." And she wrote MICHAEL ANDREW ROBERTSON.
ZERO.
She filled out another certificate: SARAH ELIZABETH PUCKETT. MELANIE TAYLOR PUCKETT. MICHAEL ANDREW ROBERTSON. The nurse collected her papers and soon enough the room was empty except for Sarah and the tiny infants.
"Hey, kiddos. I'm your mom, for better or worse, I guess. You were supposed to have a really good dad, but he can't be here anymore. But I know he loved you a whole lot. I'm going to try to do this without him, but honestly, I don't know how I'll do." Sarah admitted. "I'll probably screw up a lot. And being around my crazy family won't help much, either. And, I have really terrible taste in men. Except for your dad, obviously. But even if I'm not any good at being a mom, I'm still going to love you."
Sam gurgled happily, detaching from her mom to squirm around and whimper a little. Melanie slumbered quietly, breathing so lightly that Sarah instinctively checked to make sure she was breathing.
"Yeah, I know, I feel like that too." Sarah said with a half-hearted smile at Sam. "But we're going to do this, okay kid? And I know that if you're anything like me, you'll make it through okay."
They left the hospital two days later.
Eight years later, Sarah's little girl Sam met another little girl named Carly. And then they met Freddie, and as they say- that was that.
AN: This *one-shot* was inspired by Sam's line today in iSpeed Date, and it made me start thinking about those six relationships. What were they? Who were they with? How did they affect Sam, if at all? And I came up with this. The show has always given me the impression that Sam's mom has some sort of problem- whether with drugs/alcohol (as I talked about in this story) or just with general mental instability. I think that the death of someone she loved could definitely explain A) her general wackiness, B) her lack of permanent relationships, C) her excessive dating. So, hopefully, this story addressed all of these issues. And just in case I wasn't clear enough, a big part of this story was about a 15 second countdown- again, referring back to Sam's line that her mom's most important relationships started in fifteen seconds.
Thanks for reading! Please review, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts, and reviews are always a nice way of letting the author know what you thought about their work.