Sam strutted into the apartment building after school the next Friday. As was her habit, she opened the mailbox and flipped through the envelopes in the elevator. Halfway through the ride, her heart stopped. One of them was for her. From Grace Forster. She stumbled out of the elevator in a daze. She had gotten a reply! She knew it was usually what happened when you sent a letter but it still seemed so surreal to her.
After years of not having any family but her mother and Aunt she had a grandmother. She had a grandmother who wanted to write to her. Maybe even see her! The possibilities ran through Sam's mind as she let herself into the apartment. The endless possibilities scared her. Scared her so much, in fact, that her hands were shaking.
Oh my god.
There was so much that could be in this letter. So many different outcomes. This letter could be shutting her out of her past or welcoming her back into it. It could be a gateway to who she really was. Clutching her letter to her chest, Sam wanted nothing more to tear it open, yet, she also wanted to pretend she had never gotten it. She looked down at the envelope, smoothing out the paper. The writing was thin and curly. This was her grandmother's handwriting.
She couldn't open this by herself. She fumbled for her cell phone. "Jake," she tried to keep the irrational panic out of her voice, "can you meet me somewhere?"
"Where?"
"Not the diner." Sam whispered. "Anywhere but the diner."
"You can come to the dorm," he offered.
"Okay." She agreed quickly.
He gave her directions and she was out the door, clinging to her letter like a beloved pet that would kill her.
(-.-)
The dorm room was a lot bigger than she thought it would be. She entered the space hesitantly as Jake ushered her past a small kitchen and a shut door.
"Roommate." He pointed to the closed door. "Avoid him."
"Is the boy from the diner your roommate?" Sam asked Jake.
"Darrell?" Jake shook his head. "He doesn't even go to this university."
"Oh." Sam was quiet as she was lead into Jake's room. It was different than she thought it would be. Neat and tidy, his desk was piled with papers and books where his nightstand dripped with photos.
Sam made herself comfortable on the bed while Jake closed the door. She reached for the photos. "Who are they?" She asked him.
"My parents." Jake glanced at the picture. "Maxine and Luke Ely."
"This one?" Sam reached for another picture.
Jake sighed and sat down next to her. "My brothers. Adam, Kit, Nate, Quinn, Bryan, Seth and me."
Sam studied the photo. "You all look alike." She observed. "Like your dad."
Jake nodded.
"Who's this?" She reached out again for a photo of a horse.
"Witch." For the first time that she could remember, Sam saw a real smile bloom on Jake's face.
"She's yours?" Sam studied the black mare. She could remember, especially during her early teens, craving for a horse of her own. "I'm jealous."
Jake reached passed her. "He's yours."
Sam clutched at the photograph. It was a picture of a white horse. His ears were pricked at whoever was taking the photo and his hair was gleaming like some kind of ghost. He's yours. She repeated Jake's words in her head. "I have a horse."
Jake nodded. "Do you remember his name?"
Sam suddenly found the picture too hard to look at. She put it back on the table. "Would you have a picture of my grandmother?" She asked, hoping. Maybe seeing the woman would make reading her words easier.
Jake hesitated.
"And my father?" Sam pressed.
Jake reached to the back of the table and pulled out a frame. "It's old."
But then again, if it had her father in it, it would have to be. Sam sucked in a breath as the frame was laid into her hands. She looked down. People on a porch. There was a little girl, a little boy, a young woman, a young man, an old woman, an old man and a middle aged man. The little girl caught her eye. She was standing up on the porch railing, clutching the little boy who was doing the same thing. "Is that me?" Sam gasped, taking in the long red hair and the pudgy body that couldn't have been more than six.
"Us." Jake corrected. He was the little boy.
"That's my mother." Sam pointed to the young woman on the porch swing, holding hands with the young man. "That means … oh." That young man was her father. Tanned skin, cowboy hat, sleeves rolled up around his elbows and worn out jeans, he was, as Louise had said over a week ago, a cowboy. Sam hungrily scoured his face, trying to find any trace of herself in this man. Wyatt, she mind-whispered. But there was nothing. Sam was her mother's child, through and through. She took no features from her father.
Disappointed, she moved on to the two men who were leaning against the house to the right of the swing. "Who is he?" Sam pointed to the middle aged man.
"Ross, a ranch hand. That's –"
"Dallas!" Sam blurted. Then felt her cheeks heat. "I mean, is that his name?"
"Yes," Jake replied slowly. "He's another ranch hand."
Her heart was beating quickly. She had remembered someone's name! Did this mean that the rest of it was on its way back? Would she soon break the mental wall between this teenage self and her childhood self? Would she remember her father, her grandmother, her ranch in Nevada, that white horse that was in the picture? Allowing herself a glance up from the photograph, she looked at Jake. Would she remember him? Would she remember him in his entirety?
Cheeks flaming even more, Sam made herself look at the face of man whose name she had remembered. And tried to just focus on him. But her mind was begging for another glance at Jake. But she couldn't. Because she didn't really know him or their past together and that meant she wasn't falling for him the way she was pretending not too. Because she couldn't like him. No, no, no. With the photograph burning her hands and the letter burning her pocket, she was ashamed to say that all she was thinking of was kissing him.
"So this is my grandmother." Sam said, focusing on the older woman. "Grace." The woman was sweet looking, a little on the heavier side and a wide smile. She put the picture on the pillow and reached for the letter. She smoothed it out over her thigh. "I got a letter from her today," Sam confessed the real reason she had wanted to come see him, "and I couldn't read it alone."
"Go ahead," Jake urged her.
Sam opened the top of envelope and pulled out the single sheet of lined paper.
My dearest Samantha,
You do not know how long I have waited for this letter to arrive. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you and where you are. I hope that you are happy. I am sorry that your mother kept secrets from you, dear, but I know Louise and I know that she would only want what is best for you. As do I. But I am delighted to hear from you and I do love you.
I am very sorry about your memory and I hope it returns swiftly. My memory has not been so good as of late, but that is just one of those things that go with age, I suppose. Not that I like to think of myself as old, I am only sixty-seven, you know. And I'm not too old that I don't still run River Bend like I always have. It belongs to the Ely's now, as Jake may have mentioned to you, but I still take care of my land like I have since it was my parents.
I would love to hear from you again,
Your loving grandmother,
Grace.
Sam's heart felt warm. So did her cheeks after the tears dripped from her eyes.
"You okay?" Jake's voice lapped over her ears.
"She sounds like she loves me." Sam's throat felt thick.
Jake shifted closer and Sam was aware of just how near he was. His body heat was mingling with hers and, she admitted, she wanted to feel his lips against hers. "She does." Jake told her. Was it just Sam's imagination or did his voice become more sultry?
"I've just never had a grandmother before." Sam wished she could take back the words as soon as they were out. Of course she'd had a grandmother before.
"You did." Jake told her. "You just don't remember her." His voice sounded so broken as he recalled her lack of memory.
"I wish I did." The tears kept falling, and falling and Sam just couldn't figure out why. "I hate this so much. I should know her." Without thinking, she threw her arms around Jake's neck and buried her head in his shoulder. She felt his muscles tense underneath her before his arms circled her waist. "I hate my mom." It was the first time she had ever uttered the words with such hatred and sincerity.
Jake didn't reply. She felt him heave a sigh underneath her and titled her face up to look at him. Feeling her move, he looked back down. Sam met his eyes and felt her heart twist. Why did she have to like him? This great friend who she had met almost two weeks ago and she liked him. Subconsciously, she pushed herself into his body more and, in return, his grip tightened.
Don't do it. The thought flitted through Sam's mind. She had only just met him. She was still convinced that he was seeing her from when she was younger than the her she had known all of her life. And she couldn't risk losing, not only a great friend, but a link to her past. The only like that she could talk freely too and rely on and –
In the middle of having her mind deliberate, her heart went for it.
The next thing she knew his lips were on hers and they were holding each other so tight Sam didn't think she could breathe. But then feeling how his lips move on hers, she didn't think she could have breathed anyway. One of his hands slid up her spine, giving her chills. She put both hands to the back of his head, feeling the strands that weren't as coarse as she'd imagined.
At the same moment they both dropped away for breath. Her head went back to his shoulder. She couldn't look him in the eye right now. She didn't know what had come over her. But she was hoping, judging by how he had kissed her back, that he had wanted it just as much. And that, like her, he wanted to do it again.
"Brat," Jake spoke in her ear, making Sam jump.
"Jake." She responded.
"Wanna get some dinner?" He asked.
"Like a date?" Sam wondered to his shoulder.
Jake chuckled. She could feel the vibrations from his stomach into her own stomach and the sensation made her smile. "It is a date." He clarified.
Sam's smile grew. "On one condition," she said, feeling bold.
"Mmm?" He made a noise from the back of his throat.
"Only if you kiss me again."
Jake's hand came up to cup her cheek and she felt dwarfed by how large his palm was. Her head lifted, guided by his sure hands. Once she was looking into his brown eyes that had no end, he placed his other hand on her other cheek so that she was framed by his long, dark fingers. Sam felt her stomach tense with anticipation as he took an infinite amount of time to give her the kiss she needed.
Didn't plan on them to get together this quickly but it just seemed right. Thoughts on the chapter?
~TLL~
