Chapter 9:

Samantha entered Jonathan's bedroom intending to yell at him about his selfish choices when she realized that he'd been crying. Jonathan hastily rubbed his eyes, not wanting her to see.

"Jonathan, what's going on? Are you going to live with your dad?" She asked him softly.

He simply nodded, not trusting his voice to sound composed. He tried to ignore her; she was sitting on his bed looking at him. He turned away and continued packing.

"Jon, your mom's crying in the kitchen because you didn't even tell her that you're leaving! How could you do that to her?" She found him strangely unresponsive but didn't want to push him over the edge. His recent moodiness was cause enough for treading lightly. She touched him on the shoulder, which made him flinch then hide his face from her.

"Oh for goodness sake, Jonathan! Look at me! What are you doing?" Sam's anger was returning. She stood up and grabbed his arm to turn him around so she could let him have it. This silent treatment was becoming ridiculous.

"Sam, get out of my room!" He yanked his arm out of her grasp and turned away from her once again. He did not want her in here; not when he was so perilously close to losing control over his emotions. The crying jag with his dad had done him in just then. And Samantha informing him that he'd made his mom cry was too much. His muscles were taut, jaw clenched and he was using every single ounce of self-control to pack his suitcase while pretending Sam wasn't there. He knew that if he just looked at her, he'd give way to the maelstrom of emotions screaming in his head.

"No! How you can do this to your mom! To this family! When there's so much going on. What's Billy going to think? And what about the baby? Are you going to . . ." her pestering and needling got to be too much for him.

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!" Snap

Something gave way in him and he turned to look at her. She was angry and accusing, her face flushed, eyes glinting and arms gesticulating wildly. He wasn't listening anymore—he felt as though he was floating above himself somewhere. None of this was real. Had the world suddenly sped up and then slowed down? Samantha was still talking. What was she saying? He looked at her, admiring her beauty, the full rosy lips moving, the creamy skin flushed with pink, those dark eyes like pools of melted chocolate . . . how he wanted to touch those lips, feel her soft sweater beneath his fingers, caress her cheeks . . . and why not, he thought to himself, since none of this was real anyway? He was dreaming after all. He approached her.

Sam wondered if he was even listening to her. He had a dreamy, stupid look on his face and wasn't answering a single question. One second he was trying to throw her out of his room, screaming at her to shut up and the next, he just stared at her—no reaction to her insults. She gave an exasperated sigh and turned to leave. If this was how he wanted to play it, then she'd let her dad have at him next.

It started out in slow motion; he came right up to her and put his hand out to touch her pale pink sweater. He fingered the softness of the angora. She looked down at his hand, surprised. With his other hand, he touched her cheek—it was warm beneath his fingers. She backed away from him but he pulled her towards him and pressed his lips to hers. Her lips were so soft, just like he'd dreamed. Time sped up and he rejoined reality just as her fist connected with his face. Jonathan lost his balance and fell backwards to the floor, his eye burning in agony. He was blind! What had happened?! Samantha was yelling for her dad and he was rolling around on the floor, making sure that his eye was still inside of his head.

Tony, Angela and Michael heard a loud thud upstairs followed by Samantha's scream and urgent calls for her dad. The three adults ran up the stairs, Tony taking two at a time. He arrived at the scene first. Samantha was pointing to Jonathan on the floor. They were both completely incoherent; he screaming about his eye and she was practically hyperventilating. He couldn't make out what either of them was saying. Tony's first thought was that Jonathan must have had an aneurism or some other dangerous brain event. Angela and Michael came up behind him, just as confused by the sight before them.

"Call 911. I'm going to call 911!"Tony ran for the phone but Samantha stopped him.

"911, Dad? I only decked him. He'll live." Sam's breathing was slowly returning to normal.

"You . . . you punched him? Samantha!" Angela was aghast. She knelt down beside her son, assessing the damage. He wouldn't take his hands off of his injured eye to let her have a better look.

"What the hell just happened here!?" Tony knew that Samantha had grown out of her childhood "slugging" phase. If she'd punched Jonathan, he wanted to know why.

Samantha looked away. She was still flabbergasted by Jonathan's attack kiss and her own quick trigger self-defence response; her brain hadn't processed any of it yet.

"Dad, I . . . I . . . I", she looked up at her dad as though lost. She looked over at Jonathan and felt terrible about his eye injury. She'd done quite the number on him. She knelt down beside Angela and went to have a look at the wounded left eye. It was completely swollen shut. Angela looked at her with disappointment and blame.

"Here, let me see, Jon", she gasped at how bad his eye looked and suddenly felt quite guilty. "I'll go get some ice for him." She hurried downstairs to the kitchen. She needed to get out of that room and away from Angela's accusing glare. Her legs felt a bit wobbly as she ran down the stairs and she had to stop and hold onto the handrail, breathe deeply and descend slowly the rest of the way. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Where had that come from? Had Jonathan been harbouring a crush on her for some time? Or was he simply suicidal? She certainly hadn't meant to hit him so hard but her fist reacted before her brain did, it seemed. She needed to calm down and shut up. No way was she going to tell their parents about this. That would just give Michael a good reason to take the kid away from his mother. She'd give him hell about it later, but she didn't want to hurt Angela right now.

Upstairs, Angela and Tony were trying to get answers while tending to Jonathan's eye. Michael stayed quietly in the background, letting the others frantically worry. If his son had been punched out by that spitfire, he figured that the kid had done something stupid to deserve it—and that that very stupid action was probably going to work out in his favour. So he kept quiet and observed the frenetic activity around him.

"Sweetheart, can you sit up?" Angela helped her son into a seated position. "Are you dizzy? Do you feel nauseous? Did you hit your head when you fell?" Her worried mom-questions bombarded him.

Jonathan internally assessed the damage to his face and realized that he was simply going to have a hell of a shiner. He still couldn't believe that he'd kissed Samantha. His lips had touched hers and he was still alive-albeit a bit beaten up-to remember it. He shrugged off his mother and stood up to show her he was fine now. Well, sort of fine, if fine meant a bruised, stinging eye that he could no longer open. Sam appeared then with a bag of frozen peas for him, looking remorseful and embarrassed. She handed it to him silently just waiting for the parental inquiries and recriminations to begin. She wasn't disappointed. The questions seemed to come at her all at once, the parents all talking loudly over each other.

"Samantha, you hit him? How could you do such a thing?" This was Angela, sounding upset.

"Yo Sam, since when is slugging people okay? Don't tell me you two were fighting again!" This time Tony, sounding angry.

"Jonathan, what did you do to deserve that?" This time Michael, smirking quietly in his corner of the room.

"Nothing, it was nothing. Right Jon-a-than?" She looked at him hoping he'd catch her meaning to stay quiet.

Jonathan shook his head. "It wasn't nothing. I kissed her and she punched me. I'm sorry, Samantha. Don't be mad at her, guys. It was my fault." He needed to protect her from being blamed or punished. Besides, he was strangely proud of himself.

Samantha put her face in her palms and shook her head. How could he be so stupid? Michael would surely take him away, now.

"What do you mean, you kissed her?" Angela again. "Like a brotherly kiss good-bye before your Christmas trip? That's what you mean, right Sweetheart?" That's what Angela needed to hear right now.

"Of course, Angela. That's it. It was a good-bye Christmas kiss, right Jonathan?" Sam lunged at the second chance to make things right. Michael's expression of victory disconcerted her. "Silly me, I overreacted." Come on kid, work with me, she willed him.

She checked the adults for their reactions to her lie. Tony looked at her skeptically. Angela appeared confused and Michael was smiling too much.

"No. Don't you guys get it? Sam is the girl. The girl I can't handle being around anymore. Samantha, thank you for trying to fix things but I deserve this shiner. I completely ambushed you with that kiss. I can't do this anymore, this pretending. Right, Dad?" He turned to look at Michael.

"Jonathan, what do you mean? Why are you asking your father?" Angela saw a look of understanding pass between father and son and she grew fearful. What had Michael done? How could Jonathan have kissed Samantha for real? She was feeling a bit faint and went to sit down on the bed. Tony sat beside her and put his arm around her. "It's going to be okay", he reassured her. But he wasn't so sure of that himself. He knew about Jonathan's crush, of course. So did Mona. And, obviously Michael had figured it out quickly too. Angela had remained clueless, no doubt because she still thought of Jonathan as her baby, not as a red-blooded teenaged boy with raging hormones. He hoped that they could talk this out as a family, but he was having his doubts. If Jonathan was capable of ambushing his daughter with a lip lock, then maybe they did need distance between them. Tony looked over at Michael, who was quietly talking to Jonathan. He knew it was time for the boy to be with his real father for a while now. Michael looked at Tony, indicating towards Jonathan and then towards the suitcase, with a nod of his head. Tony nodded back, silently conveying his agreement. They'd wordlessly made the decision. It was for the best, under the circumstances.

Tony squeezed Angela around the shoulders and whispered to her, "Sweetie, he needs time with his father. He needs some distance away from Sam. He needs to do some growing up of his own. Angela, you're going to have to let him go." He held her tightly against him as his words sunk in. She looked at him unbelievingly, then looked to Jonathan who was closing his suitcase with Michael's help and finally to Samantha. She knew this could escalate even further and threaten to tear their family apart. It was Michael's turn now. She felt the baby move in her then, like a series of bubbles popping inside of her. It tickled and made her smile. She put her hand to her abdomen and looked up at her nearly grown son. This was what needed to happen. Life was about change and change happened fast, sometimes. But no matter what happened, she'd raised her son to be a considerate, kind young man. He'd fallen in love with the wrong person and needed a fresh start. She had to trust that he was going to be alright with his dad.

The next few hours flew by in a fog for Angela. Somehow they made it through dinner, all together but there certainly wasn't much conversation at that point. Jonathan's eye was swollen shut and turning purple, Samantha was quiet and subdued, and Tony was just trying to fix things by making a good meal. Mona arrived home from her late afternoon holiday shopping trip, completely unaware of the day's events. She was aghast at Jonathan's black eye and even more at him leaving with his father and tried to talk Angela out of that decision. But Angela was unyielding; Tony was right. Jonathan needed to do some growing up and he needed to do it away from Samantha. As much as it broke her heart, she loved her son too much to let him continue living out a tragic heartbreak every day. Now that she knew the cause of his recent depression, she knew that this was the solution.

It was decided that Michael and Jonathan would spend the night at Michael's airport hotel because the flight to California was very early the next morning. Angela made sure that Michael knew everything about their son's routine, fast-tracked studies, food intolerances and fears. She then entrusted Jonathan into his care. It had been difficult enough when Sam had moved into the dorm, but this was so much harder. Jonathan was her baby and he'd be over 3000 miles away now. She cried and hugged her son good bye.

"Good bye, Sweetheart. You listen to your father, keep up your studies and phone me every day!" Angela held him tightly.

"Maybe not every day, Mom. But I'll call and I'll write and I'll come home to visit before the baby is born." He hugged his mom, feeling very much like a little boy in her arms as he submitted to her kisses all over his face without protest.

He hugged his grandmother next. She kissed him good bye along with comments about all of the California babes waiting for him. She always made him smile.

Next, Tony grabbed him in a big bear hug. "Hey Pal-o-Mine, I'm going to miss you. You're going to do great in California. Do some surfin', okay?" Tony felt very emotional saying his farewell to the boy he considered his other child. He'd been in Jonathan's life for over six years now and had watched him grow from a lizard-obsessed smart mouth, to a highly intelligent, if somewhat shy and bookish young man. He was suddenly overwhelmed by powerful memories of all those years of gymnastics, Cub Scouts, Father and Son golf tournaments, accordion lessons, failed attempts at teaching the kid how to play baseball and all of the quality family time they'd spent together- holidays, regular days, meals, movies- and he felt the tears form in his eyes. His voice gruff with emotion, Tony told Jonathan that he loved him and would miss him very much. Jonathan was starting to get teary eyed now too. He was going to miss his family very much. But he felt a lightness at not having to hide anymore and an excitement at the new life that awaited him.

Jonathan knelt down and hugged Billy good bye, then looked up to see Samantha looking at him. Leaving her was both a relief and a torment. And saying good bye to her in front of everybody was going to be quite awkward, he feared. She must have sensed his discomfort for she called him to follow her into the kitchen for a minute.

"Hey kiddo. So this is it, huh?" She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. "I'm really sorry about your shiner", she reached out to gently touch his black eye.

"No Sam, don't be. I'm sorry for ambushing you like that. I, uh, well, I'd wanted to do that for a long time. It wasn't cool, Sam. I'm sorry." He looked embarrassed and contrite.

"You should have talked to me, Jon." Sam tried to make eye contact with him again.

"Talked to you?! Really? Sam, you're a gorgeous, popular, hot babe. I'm a dork, geek, and loser that you think of as a kind of brother. How would that talk have gone?" He rolled his eyes and laughed at the thought of it.

"Oh Jon, you're not that bad. I'm sorry for all the times I made fun of you and wouldn't drive you places. I was kind of mean to you. If I'd known that you were crazy in love with me, I might have been nicer", she teased him. She made him smile.

"Well good bye then", she went to hug him. He held her loosely and awkwardly, afraid to accidentally overstep the boundary that he'd previously demolished. "Jonathan, what is that? A fish hug?" She laughed then. Poor kid—Sam had briefly known the pain of unrequited love with that English professor. She couldn't imagine it going on for an extended period of time, while living in the same household and having to hide and deny your feelings. It must have been torture for him. She felt deep compassion for him and gave him a proper hug. Then in a gesture of holiday spirit and remorse, she invited him to kiss her good bye.

"It's okay Jonathan. You can wish me an early Merry Christmas. Go ahead. Pretend there's mistletoe. One time; I won't scream or punch you." She nodded at him encouragingly. He looked stunned, blushed very deeply and looked around the kitchen to make sure that the pots and pans weren't going to be horrified. "I won't bite you," she looked at him. He couldn't resist the offer and plunged his lips onto hers without any more encouragement. She let him kiss her, closed mouth of course, and then whispered "Consider that my Christmas present to you. Bye kid. I'm going to miss you", and she meant it.

They exited the kitchen together, Jonathan all aglow from his secret Christmas kiss and Sam feeling rather charitable. He hugged all of his family members again, secretly swiped a framed photo of Sam when nobody was looking, and said his final farewells. He looked at Michael; they left together, father and son to the waiting car outside.

That evening, Angela was feeling out of sorts and quite glum. Her son's departure left a huge hole in her heart. But, she reminded herself, he wasn't the only child who needed her.

She saw the light on in Sam's room and knocked lightly at her door.

"Come in", she called.

"Hi. Can we talk?" Angela felt that it was important to clear the air between them now.

Samantha nodded and made room on her bed for Angela to sit. "Angela, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have hit him. If I hadn't hit him, then he wouldn't be going to California. This is all my fault." She wanted Angela to understand how badly she felt about the whole situation.

"No Honey, you can't blame yourself", she pulled the girl into a hug and stroked her hair. "I should have seen it coming. Really. You're so beautiful and he's been in awe of you for such a long time. It's my fault for not recognizing the signs. For not talking to him. I don't blame you for hitting him. That kiss must have shocked you today." Angela wasn't going to let Sam take the blame. Her son had pounced on Sam and she felt terrible about that. "Are you alright, Sam?"

"I'm fine. It was just a kiss. He just really surprised me! " She was so relieved that Angela understood. Angela was like a mother to her but she knew that blood was thicker than water and had half expected Angela to blame her for her son's departure. But there was no blame. Angela loved her like a daughter and was making sure that she was alright.

"I saw what you did today, Sam-how you tried to hide what happened. You and Jonathan tried to protect each other today. You both took blame to defend the other. That says a lot to me. It says that whatever this crush is, you two have a deeper, more lasting relationship beneath it. You'll both overcome today's events. You will. He'll meet somebody eventually and one day we can hopefully all laugh about this. I certainly hope it's the case before your father and I get married—whenever that may be." She smiled at Sam and gave her one more impulsive hug then wished her goodnight.

Angela went downstairs and found Tony sitting on the couch. She told him about the conversation she'd just had with Sam. He hugged her, thankful that she loved his daughter so much and wasn't assigning blame. They stayed cuddled up together on the couch, the TV off, no need for an excuse to be close. Tony rubbed her arm, then held her hand.

"How are you doing, Angela?" He looked into her eyes.

"Oh Tony, I'm going to miss him so much. I wasn't planning on having my son move out at fifteen. But I know this is the right decision, so I've got a measure of peace about it. He'll be happier now." She felt a bit lonely and lost too but didn't tell him. He could see it in her forlorn expression though. He wanted to comfort her, to show her that she wasn't alone. He kissed her then, slowly and gently. She wound her arms around him and pulled him close to her. His kiss was sweet, caring, and loving. When they pulled apart, she was filled with a deep need for him and began kissing his face, moving her lips along his jaw and then burying her mouth in his neck. He smelled so comforting and masculine. She kept kissing him, desperate for him. Kissing his neck then returning to his lips. She undid the top buttons of his shirt and kissed him in the hollow of his neck, breathing him in. He pulled back sharply and slammed the brakes on their relationship once again. "Angela, you're feeling very vulnerable right now. This isn't a good time to . . ." he started warning her. His rebuff sliced through her already overwrought emotions and she began to cry.

"No, Angela. Don't cry. I don't want to take advantage of you. You're grieving Jonathan's departure." He was trying to make her understand why this wasn't a good time for them. But Angela didn't want to hear and instead took off upstairs, ashamed at being rejected once again. She heard Tony calling after her but ignored him and ran towards the safety of her bedroom. He followed her and caught up with her just as she was about to enter her room. They were both breathing hard from the hasty flight up the stairs. He grabbed her so he could explain himself but found that he couldn't speak. She was flushed and upset, so he kissed her again. His rational voice was screaming at him to stop but he couldn't. Angela was confused by his mixed messages. She pushed him away but her desire for him overwhelmed her. She slammed him into the doorjamb and kissed him back, harder. She needed him right now; needed him as a balm against her pain; like wine to help her forget. She needed his strength, his protection, all of him. He saw her intense need and kissed her back roughly. Breathless from the forceful kiss, she whispered "Stay with me tonight. I don't want to be alone. Tony, I need you." And with that, he followed her into the bedroom.

Author's note: And with that, dear reader, please look out for chapter 10 in the M section in a few days' time.