Jack's POV
May 1988 Colorado Springs
I've had obsessions before. I, like my son, had an alien obsession. I had a dinosaur obsession. A star trec obsession I still wouldn't admit to. I been obsessed with chocolate ice cream cones, and taking out all the other kids in a snow ball fight and the engine of my father's truck. For while I was serious obsessed with the feeling you get when you're flying a little plane, hockey and Mary Steenburgen. But I have never, ever, in my life been obsessed like this.
Samantha.
I just want to skip all this crap, this dating stuff, and get to the happily ever after. But then I think I'd look back and miss all of it. Long for it. But I just feel like I don't want to waste any time, and I feel like I know her already. But I don't want to freak her out. After all, she's YOUNG.
So after our whole crying on each other's shoulders until late in the night thing I decided to give her a couple days. And I need that time anyway. To try to talk myself out of the date I want to take her on. But a couple days isn't enough time. So I go for it. We've agreed not to follow the rules.
She arrives at my house, and she looks nervous. Terrified to meet my son. He walks up to her and announces, "Me shy," and he peeks out from around my leg, "anxious, actually."
I'm laughing as her eyes pop out of her head. I warned her bad grammar, precocious vocabulary. "You are not shy Charlie, why do you keep telling people that?" I ask him.
He tilts his head and looks at me, "Me is shy Daddy!"
"Ok, whatever kid," I say.
Sam smiles at him, "Well, I have a little present for you Charlie," she says holding her hands out in front of her. She makes him pry them open, and inside is a little plastic alien. His eyes light up. "It glows in the dark," she informs him.
Charlie is rushing off to try it.
"Resorting to bribery are we Samantha?" I ask.
"Not above if," she replies.
Of course, since she gave him an alien, Sam is Charlie's new best friend. I think she probably would have been anyway. He can't get enough of her. He's clinging to her, sitting on her, talking to her.
"Sam, believe you in aliens?" he asks.
"Well, Charlie, I think it is a very big universe, and there are a lot of stars, with a lot of planets. Then you think about all the different ways that life could evolve, and I think there is a pretty good chance there is intelligent life somewhere out there. But it probably doesn't look like we'd expect."
He narrows his eyes at her, "Sam, aliens look like him," he holds the alien she brought him in front of her face. Way closer than eyes could actually focus on, but kids tend not to pick up on those things.
"Sure, maybe, Charlie," she says.
He looks at her offended, "Not maybe Sam, OVIOUSLY!" Then he turns to me, "Daddy, doesn't Sam have a TV?" he asks in disgust.
"Do you know the difference between fiction and non-fiction?" Sam retorts.
"Fiction is make believe, and non-fiction is real," he says with a roll of the eye. Sam gives me a look of shock, and I shrug my shoulders.
Turns out Sam is great with kids, or at least with my kid. I really didn't have any doubts, but I think she did. Before you know it we're playing tickle monster. She catches us both at once, and for a second the three of us are all in one bundle on the floor laughing. It makes my chest hurt. Because I've never really got this before. Sarah died before we could have this. This family thing. For a second, it's what it should have been. But I try to chase these thoughts away, because Sam's twenty. Probably doesn't want a family yet.
I go to make dinner, and it doesn't turn out well. Turns out Sam's a bit of a control freak.
"Jack, you just chopped vegetables on the cutting board you cut the meat up on," she informs me.
"So?" I ask. She makes a face which suggests this is exactly the kind of act for which they held the Nuremberg Trials.
She nudges me out of the way, and starts cutting. So I move over the stirring the sauce. This is an activity I do not think I could screw up. Turns out I'm wrong. "Jack, that spoon will scratch that pan, here let me," Pretty soon I'm sitting at the table, and Sam is doing all the cooking intermingled with disparaging comments about the quality of my kitchen utensils.
Then she serves the meal. Charlie's plate is arranged like an alien. I give her a glare, we really don't need to encourage that one again. He takes one bite looks up at Sam and says, "Incredibly scrumptious." And that is the moment when Charlie stole Sam's heart.
I take a bite and am inclined to agree. "Doesn't seem fair Sam."
"What?" she asks.
"Beautiful, genius, funny, and a fabulous cook, did ya leave any good traits for the rest of us?"
"Oh, I think you got quite a few yourself, Jack," she smiles at me and then adds half under her breath, "but not the cooking part."
"No," Charlie says whispering to Sam, "Daddy's cooking is deplorable."
So Sam starts doing the dishes (after I told her she didn't have to) and I go upstairs to get Charlie ready for bed. I come back downstairs, and she's staring at a picture of Sarah.
She turns to me, and her face has a really weird expression, "I look like her," she says in a very flat voice.
"A little," I admit.
"I look like your dead wife," she repeats, horror in her voice.
"God Sam, it's not like that," I say. But she doesn't look like she believes me, "You guys may look a little alike but you are completely different. She liked reading fiction, and watching really girly movies, and flying terrified her. She did not get my jokes, and was sweet, and loving. You like physics, and action, and flying, and the air force-you get the air force. You get my humor, and you are so smart, and strong Sam. You can't compare the two of you. It's like jello and cake."
Her eyes are still locked on the picture of Sarah, "But which one am I Jack? Jello or cake?"
"You are defiantly the cake." And she spins around as kisses me.
She pulls away after a few seconds, "Good answer, Jack."
"So, telescope?" I ask. It's been a long time since I had that much fun. Since I talked to someone who knew that much about something I knew that much about. I know all the constellations and the myths surrounding them. She knows the constellations, and what all the stars are doing, down to a molecular level. I don't actually understand much of the molecular stuff. But that's ok, she spent a semester not understanding advanced military strategy in the same delightful way I spent the evening not understanding astrophysics. We are reluctant for the night to end. But at long last I walk her to her car, and kiss her goodnight.
Jack's POV
July 1998 Colorado Springs
"So where's Dad?" I ask with a smile, her dad was supposed to be celebrating the holiday with us.
"He's not coming," she says pretending she doesn't care.
"You're not serious, what do you mean he's not coming?" I ask looking at her with concern. I mean I know the Fourth isn't the biggest holiday in the world, but the guy didn't show up for her graduation, and now this.
"He got called away on a last minute mission he couldn't make it. I would have told you before, but I found out late last night," she says.
"He told you THE DAY before," I say outraged.
"No big deal Jack, he didn't know before."
"It's a big deal Sam, very big deal," I say.
Seconds later Charlie is running up to Sam, and leaps into her arms. "Bought you a present, Sam," he says. It's folded up in his hand the way the alien she gave him the day they met was. He unfolds his hands and there it is. The Pin. I've spent the last week trying to talk him out of giving it to her. It's a big green alien, it's gaudy, and it blinks.
"I love it!" Sam explains. And I'm flabbergasted. Not that she said that. But that she actually looks like she means it. Either she's a much better liar than I thought or she actually likes The Pin. I think it's got to be the first one. Still, never again am I going to fight a battle about what Charlie gives to Sam. Prepare the way for a lifetime of horrid gifts, I will protect her no more!
She puts it on, and is still gushing about how wonderful it is. I think I'm going to be sick.
"Got you something too," I say.
She unwraps it. "A book on military strategy," she giggles, and I'm not even to the punch line.
"I could read it to you," I offer. And we are both laughing so hard we could hardly breathe.
Charlie is a little offended. I think mostly because this is diverting attention from The Pin. "I no see what you two find so humorous!" This makes us laugh more, "Cease!" he practically shouts getting red in the face, and we laugh harder.
"Dad is a good guy," she insists.
"He just isn't always where he says he's going to be when he says he will be," I say.
"Air forces' fault," she mutters.
"I'm sure he'd be here if he could," I say.
Charlie sighs loudly, "I wish my mashed potatoes looked like an alien," and he gives Sam this incredibly cute look.
Sam reaches over and molds them into an alien with her knife.
"Seriously Sam? You are an enabler," I mutter. She gives her knife a glance of disgust, because it is now covered with mashed potatoes, and she wants to butter her bread. I trade her knifes.
"Your fault for having a cute kid," she mutters. "So Jack, I got this offer today," I force a smile on my face, but my stomach sinks. Sam is way too smart to stick around here for long. But I seriously don't know what I'll do if she leaves.
"They can't actually tell me what I'm going to be doing. Double triple classified. But what they could tell me sounds-amazing. It's just an assistant job, and I planned on going right to grad school, but I don't know might be good to get some real world experience first."
She pauses and obviously expects me to advise her. I'm a little focused on not screaming, "Don't leave Sam" at the top of my lungs, but I manage to string some thoughts together. "It sounds really interesting. Good to live in between all the book learning." Now I ask the question I've been dying to ask, "Where is the offer."
She grins, "Cheyenne Mountain."
"But that is in Colorado Springs," I say.
"Yeah, I'm thinking I like this town," she says with that smile of hers that shuts my brain down. Not like that is hard to do.
I'm deliriously happy. But I can't let her do that. I'd be like building a giant fence so no one can see Mouth Rushmore. "Sam, you can't choose this just to stay by us."
"Oh, either way I'm staying in town," she says, "Well actually grad school would be in Golden, Colorado which is an hour and half away, but there aren't any astrophysics grad school programs closer."
"I bet that isn't the best program in the world." I stay staring her down.
"No, but…" she says.
I cut her off, "You deserve the best."
"I'm getting it," she says patting my hand. Just then a chunk of potato lands on her face. Sam's laughing , and saying something to Charlie about the aerodynamics of his aim.
"Never thought I would be in a situation where I am the bad cop, Sam. Charlie why did you throw mash potatoes on Sam?"
He looks at me like I'm slow and says, "Because you would get mad Dad."
"Well, little boys who throw food are going to have to stay home next time we go out to eat," I say.
"Sorry Dad," he says.
"Sam you can't give up your dreams for us," I say, but I look over at her, and she's looking over at Charlie, like, like a mother, and my heart aches. Two months, and already. "Charlie and I could move, you know, Samantha," I say.
She turns to me, a thousand emotions covering her face, all of them beautiful "No, I think I really what the Cheyenne Mountain job. It's just an assistant position, and I don't want to do it forever, but…I don't know it sounds interesting. There is plenty of time for grad school."
"So when would this new job start?" I ask.
"Not until September why?" she asks absentmindedly spearing a piece of broccoli off my plate.
Charlie is bouncing in his seat, "You said I get to ask her Dad! You said!"
"I did, go ahead Charlie," I said grinning at his enthusiasm.
"Before Daddy has to go back to school in the fall Daddy and I always go to Gran's cabin. This year you are coming," he says with a grin.
"You are supposed to ask her, Charlie," I say laughing as I steal away a slice of Sam's chicken.
He breaks out his very best 'Charlie can get anything from Sam' face and says, "! Pretty Please Sugar on Top?"
"I'd love to go with you guys," she says kissing the top of his head.
"It's for a whole week," I warn.
"Even better, when do we leave?" she says with a grin.
"Tuesday, you do know this will involve meeting the Gran?" I say.
"The woman who slapped you? It will be a pleasure, we can compare notes of Jack control methods," she says with a grin.
"Gran SLAPPED you?" Charlie asks in horror.
"Gran couldn't use most of your methods," I say giving her a kiss.
"Your right," she says, "That would get pretty weird."
August 1998
I wasn't like I was surprised that Gran and Sam got along. They are both strong intelligent women who plan on working or worked in careers virtually shut off to women. Gran was an engineer in the 1920's. What I didn't expect was how WELL the two of them got along. After all there is over all a sixty year difference in their ages. Right away the two are talking, and I think they might be conspiring against me. See, I can't actually understand anything they are saying. They are both talking at once. I'm not exaggerating. They both talk, and they are hearing and responding to the things the other person says. Two conversations going on at once, and my head is hearting.
Charlie is fascinated. Either that or hypnotized. I've long suspected Gran has a way of hypnotizing children to do her bidding. They are cooking right now. Any time I try to go into the kitchen one of them swats me away with a spatula or spoon or rolling pin or towel. They do this without a pause in their double conversation.
"I'm going fishing," I inform them.
"Have fun," they say in unison without breaking the beat in their conversation.
Jeez it's like an episode of the twilight zone in there. I try to save Charlie, but Gran's magic is to strong, and he bats me away never loosing eye contact with the two women. His fingers are fidgeting, just like his father's. He's fidgeting with the alien Sam gave him two months ago. He never lets that thing out of his sight.
A few hours later Sam joins me. I hand her a fishing line, "You like fishing?" I ask.
"I don't think so," she replies, "But I do like Gran."
"Ya think?" I say. I'm about to put the worm on for her, but she takes it from my hand, "I'm a girl, not a wuss, Jack."
We sit there in silence for about five minutes, and she turns to me, "Holy Hannah this is actually fun!"
So I make my confession, "There are no fish in this lake, Sam."
She gives me a weird look. Then she goes back to fishing for a few minutes. "You know what Jack? Still fun."
"Sam, you are the perfect women, anyone ever tell you that before?" I say staring out at the lake.
"Not perfect Jack, just me," she says. "Can I ask you a question?" and there is worry in her voice.
"You just did, but go ahead ask another," I say glancing at her.
"Did you leave, because of what I said in there?"
I laugh, "Sam, I don't have your genius mind. I can only follow one conversation at a time."
"Oh," and she sound relieved.
"What did you think had me on the run, Sam?" I say looking at her carefully.
"Gran was asking about the possibility of future grand kids," she says.
Now I'm worried. Sam doesn't want more kids? But I've seen her with Charlie, why wouldn't she want more Charlies? "And what was your comment?"
"I said someday, a couple more kids would be nice," she says so softly I can barely hear her.
"It would be," I say with a smile that instantly relaxes her, "And a couple would be…" I say.
"Three?" she asks.
"Charlie included?" I ask.
"Of course," she says. Love that, of course, like he's really her son.
"Three sounds like a pretty good number," I say, patting her hand.
"When I thought you were freaked out by the idea of more kids, Jack," she says, "I thought you were nuts, because, seriously Charlie is…"
"Weird," I finish for her.
"Perfect," she whispers, and then she looks at me, "Just like you, Jack."
"Did Gran give you some of her 'special' medicine left over from the sixties in there Sam?" I say. She laughs and leans against my shoulder, and a feeling of peace overwhelms me. "I love you Sam," I say.
Her fingers intertwine with mine, and her head works its way further into my neck, "I love you too, Jack."
"You two get in here and eat this dinner that genius of a woman and I created this instant," Gran calls.
"Time to be confused," I mutter.
"There's cake," Sam informs me.
"What are we waiting for?" I say reeling in my line.