The phone rang at the home Danny and Sam Fenton. Sam picked it up. "Hello?"
"Sam, it's Danny. I'm on my way home. I was wondering if you wanted anything from the supermarket."
"Well, we are out of fruit."
"Alright, what kind do you want me to pick up?"
"Uh, apples and oranges will do."
"Love you.
"Love you, too."
"Bye."
"Bye."
As Sam hung up, the phone rang again. Sam checked the Caller ID. It was her mother this time. Begrudgingly Sam answered. "Hello?"
"Sam, honey? It's your mother." Lydia Manson replied, her usually chipper voice laden with sadness.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
"Honey, I'm home." Danny said as he walked in the door, their children, Jessica and Danny in his arms. There came no response. Looking around, he saw a note on the table:
"Danny, gone to visit grandma in the hospital."
Leaving the kids with his parents, he drove to the hospital.
"I'm looking for Rebecca Goldman's room." Danny told the receptionist.
"Room 314, but you'd better hurry."
As Danny reached the room, he saw Sam and her parents sitting on a bench. Sam's face was buried in her hands, her folks wrapping her in a group embrace, Sam in the middle. "Sam, Danny's here." Lydia said as Danny cleared his throat. Sam looked up at him, eyes and hands smudged with eyeliner. Danny sat by his wife's side as her parents got up, Thurston Manson comforting his grieving wife. Danny pulled Sam close to him, letting her sob into his shoulder as he stroked her back.
On April 24th, 2017, Rebecca "Whoopi" Goldman, Sam's maternal grandmother, lost her year-long battle with ovarian cancer. She was 86. A few days after she died, her funeral was held, and Sam had been asked to write a eulogy, as well as be one of the pallbearers. As is karma's way, the day was a beautiful spring morn, butterflies flapping their beautiful wings, flowers all in bloom, etc.
"My Grandmother was always there for me," Sam said as she stood by the coffin in a long, black gown and veil, "even when it seemed like no one else was. I could always talk to her, and she always stood up for me when my parents and I didn't see eye to eye." She hadn't shed a tear, but Danny could tell she was holding back by the way her lower lip trembled as she spoke. "She was also the first person to truly accept me for who I am. Goodbye, Grandma. I'll miss you." Sam finally broke down as she headed back to her seat.
That night, Danny tossed and turned in his sleep. He kept having dreams of him and their young children at Sam's funeral. Waking up drenched in sweat, he looked over at her half of the bed, which was now empty, the sheets on her half of the bed having been pushed aside. Danny got out of bed, thinking she might have gone downstairs to watch some Nick-at-Nite to clear her head. Not finding her in the living room, he looked all over the pitch black house for her, only stopping when he found a note on the kitchen table:
"If you need to find me, look for me on the road under the 29th street bridge or on the morning news."
Fearing the worst, Danny woke the kids, strapped them in their child safety seats, and raced off to find Sam.
"Sam, no!" Danny yelled when as he got out of the car. Sam was dressed in her mourning gown, standing on the other side of the guardrail, facing the street below, still hanging on.
"Why not? A few days ago I lost the only person in the world whoever truly understood and accepted me for who I am." She said, tears streaming down her cheeks
"That's not true. Sam, you have a husband and kids who love and care about you. Don't do this to me, Sam, and more importantly, don't do this to the kids. What will I tell the kids when they ask why they don't have a mother? No kid should have to experience that at such a young age. Please, Sam, I beg you to reconsider. Would you want our children to be orphaned?"
"Danny, they won't be orphans."
"Yes, they will, Sam, because I can't live without you. Sam, please don't do this." With that, Sam sat on the railing and turned around. "Oh, Sam, don't ever scare me like that again." Danny said as he pulled her close to him, her feet back on level ground. "You really had me worried there."
"I'm so sorry, Danny. Thank you for saving me."
"Sam, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you." Danny replied as she buried her face in his chest, her lilac-and-ginger scent emanating from her soft, silky black hair.