Wow guys! I'm sorry. I uploaded a random chapter from another study. This one might make a bit more sense.
Two weeks later…
When Jon comes home from work he hears his daughter crying. He stumbles into his daughter's room to change her before heading into Sam's room to wake her up. It takes two nudges before he wakes her up.
"What's going on?" she asks, confused and just a tiny bit scared.
"She was crying, and you didn't hear her," Jon mutters.
"I'm sorry, I've just been so tired."
"No big deal, she's hungry," he prompts. "Maybe you are going to have to start pumping so that I can take nighttime duty once in a while."
"You work," she mutters.
"I know, but you need to sleep," he insists.
"You're tired, too, Jon," she says.
"Is it ok if I sit here until she's done? I'd like to take her back when you're done."
"Sure, go ahead… lay down."
-0-0-0-
"Sammy, I'm heading to work," Jacob says, coming into her room. Suddenly, the eyes bulge out of his head.
"Jonathan!" Jacob shouts.
Jane starts crying in terror. Jon gropes to comfort his daughter, and accidently comes into contact with Sam's breast, still bare from last night's feeding.
"Shit," he mutters.
"What the hell is going on?" Jacob says.
"Dad, he brought me a hungry baby last night, we fell asleep."
"And I'm supposed to believe you? You have a kid together, and you SWORE to me that nothing was happening," he says through clenched teeth.
"And that kid is in bed with us, Sir," Jon points out.
"And even if we were… It's way too soon after the baby," Sam points out.
"And we're fully dressed," Jacob says.
"Well…" Sam says.
"Ok, fully dressed except for the part of Sam that my daughter gets her nutrition from," Jon says. Jane starts fussing, "Speaking of which, I think she could use a little something to eat."
Sam takes her from his arms.
"And then you can go back to sleep for a little while. I've got her."
"Ok. Why don't you get ready for the day while I'm feeding her," Sam suggests. Jon stands up to do as Sam suggests.
Jacob is struck by how well the two of them work together. And their logical arguments have convinced him. He no longer thinks that something went on in his daughter's bed last night.
"You guys are going to stay in separate beds from now on, right?"
"Yes, sir," Jon says.
-0-0-0-
Ten months later…
"You started Daddy duty over an hour ago, where were you?" Sam scolds, walking toward Jon.
"I'm sorry. My replacement showed up late for work. I couldn't very well leave the place unguarded."
"Yeah, well I couldn't very well leave my child unsupervised, so I missed a class."
"I'm really sorry," Jon says.
"I know you couldn't help it," she says, giving him a kiss as she hands the baby to him.
"Dada!" Jane says as she puts her tiny arms around her father's neck.
"Did you hear that?" Sam says.
He nods his head, and there is something about his face that she can't figure out. "You don't seem particularly surprised by our daughter's first word."
"Dada," she says again, snuggling her head against her father's chest.
"That is her first word, isn't it?" Sam asks, suddenly suspicious.
"Yes, 'dada' was her first word," Jon says carefully.
"And she just said it now?" Sam asks.
Jon looks away.
"How long has she been talking?" Sam demands
"She said it for the first time on Tuesday after lunch. She wanted out of that high chair that she hates so much."
"And why exactly didn't you tell me?"
"I swear, I didn't encourage her to say that."
"Honey, you honestly think I care what her first word is? I'm just so glad that she is talking." She coos at her daughter, "You are talking, aren't you, big girl? Yes, you are."
"I never encouraged her to say 'dada' first. I swear, Sam."
"I've been encouraging her to say that," Sam says with a laugh.
"You'd better go, you're late for class," Jon says, nodding to her.
"It's ok, I missed my first class, and I don't have another one for a couple of hours."
"So we get a couple of hours together?" Jon asks excitedly.
"We really need to take more time together, if you're so excited just to spend a few hours with me," Sam says sadly.
"Ok, family date! Let's go to the park," Jon says.
-0-0-0-
"That kid is eating sand," Sam points out.
"Yeah, that's pretty typical," Jon says.
"Well, if Jane starts eating sand, I am going to stop her."
"You wanted time to spend with me. So let's not talk about the kid," Jon requests, grabbing her hand.
"You're right, our lives really have revolved around Jane. Oddly, I end up thinking a lot more about her since I went back to school. I spend less time with her, but yet she is in my thoughts more than she ever was before."
"Now you know how I felt all those months when you were at home with her, and I was going off to work every night."
"You're a really good dad."
"And you're an amazing mom," he says, pulling her into a one armed hug.
"But we really haven't figured out who we are, together. You and me, that whole thing has really not even begun."
"I think we need to start doing date nights, now that Jane is a little bit older," Jon says.
"Ok, but who are we going to leave her with?" Sam says.
"Your dad, your brother?" Jon replies, as if she was asking a particularly strange question.
"I don't know if I'd let Mark stay alone with her."
"Why not?" he asks.
"Seriously? Do you not remember the fact that he is a teenage drunk?"
"He's been sober for a year," Jon points out.
"I know, but he was still a drunk."
"Sam, he's been sober for almost as long as he was drinking. You have to forgive that. You have to trust him again."
She nods her head, "Ok, but the first time that Mark is left alone with her, Dad stays."
"Ok, as long as you realize that isn't really alone," Jon points out.
"Crap! Jane is eating sand!" Sam says, jumping up and running toward her daughter at full speed.
"That's not sand," Jon mutters, hoping Sam never figures this out.
-0-0-0-
"Ok, stop, we agreed that we are not going to talk about Jane," Jon reminds Sam, as she launches into the discussion of her daughter for the fifth time during a twenty minutes of dinner they have enjoyed so far.
"I'm sorry," she mutters, "I'm just not sure that there is anything to me except for my daughter."
"Why don't you tell me about school?" he asks.
"You don't want to hear about that," she mutters.
"You know, it's crazy. I always used to tease her about the technical talk that she did. But you have no idea how much I miss it. Give me that technobabble," he says.
She grins, and then launches into a very scientific discussion. He does seem interested for quite some time. He even asks some pretty intelligent questions. But after twenty minutes, she can see that his eyes are glossing over.
"I'm sorry, I've been talking way too long. It's your turn to talk about something you are passionate about."
"Well, in a few months they are going to come out with a new cartoon that is going to be really great…" he begins, with a grin on his face.
-0-0-0-
Sam hates the fact that Jon has Jane all day, while she gets the night shift with her daughter. To be sure, she loves giving her daughter dinner, and a bath, and reading her stories. But after that, there isn't really much to do until morning. Of course, Sam has to sleep at some point, and there is always some studying to do. But she does most of her studying at the library between classes.
So she often uses the early evening for cleaning.
Usually she just takes care of her own room, her daughter's, and the group areas of the house. She tells the boys that they are all old enough to take care of their own messes. But at some point, the room which belongs to her brother and boyfriend reaches the point that it qualifies for hazmat regulations.
Sam heads into the room, and starts dumping most of the contents into a large garbage bag.
Her brother's nightstand is mostly full of gum wrappers.
Her boyfriend's had much less trash, and… a velvet box.
Her heart almost stops. Should she open it? No, she should definitely keep it as a surprise for when he wanted to give it to her. But, she had to know what was inside. She couldn't wait another second. She had to know.
She pops it open. It's simple, it's elegant. It's perfect.
"Sam," his voice says behind her.
She snaps the box shut and turns around with a guilty look on her face. "I'm sorry," she says, dropping the box and running out of the room.
He knows exactly where she went. He sits down on the porch next to her.
"I swear I was just cleaning your room. I wasn't snooping or anything," she says.
"It's ok, Sam. I'm actually kind of glad that you found it."
"So, how long have you had it?" she asks, looking away. Maybe he brought it with him. Maybe it doesn't mean what she thinks it means.
"A couple of weeks," he says, "I didn't know how to bring it up. I've been trying to think of some words that would let you know how much you meant to me. That would let you know that I wasn't just marrying you because of Jane. Or because of her, you know the other Samantha. Or because of any other reason than the fact that I've fallen head of heals for you."
She looks at him, "I think those were pretty good words."
"Is that a yes, Samantha?" he asks, holding out the ring to her between two fingers.
"Yeah, I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to, Jon."
"You're not going to have to," he says, pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple. "You know, I never would have thought in a million years that I would end up with someone like you. You and I, we are worlds apart. And then this crazy thing brought us together. But there still shouldn't have been this between us, this love. I really wasn't expecting the love."
"I love you, too," she says in the starry-eyed way that only a teenager in love can say on her first time.
"Is that really the first time that I ever said that?" he asks, even though he can see from her face that it is.
She nods.
"I'm sorry," he says, twisting his hand in her hair in a way that both of them love so much, "I'm going to have to fix that. I'm going to have to make a habit of saying it."
Jacob steps on the deck on his way into the house. "Sorry, guys. I'll be out of your way in a little bit."
"Daddy, look!" Sam exclaims, waving the ring in front of her father's face.
This was definitely not the way that Jon pictured sharing the big news with Jacob. "I'm sorry, I should have talked to you again before." He suddenly remembers that the last time they discussed this, Jacob had refused to give his permission to marry his daughter. But things had changed since then. Hadn't they?
"You guys are getting married?" Jacob asks softly.
"If that's ok with you, sir," Jon mutters softly.
"It doesn't matter what you think. I'm going to be eighteen in a couple of months, and then I can get married if I want to," Sam says firmly.
"Sam, I don't want to get married against your father's wishes. Even when you are old enough that we can," Jon protests.
"Why are you guys both assuming that I am against this?" Jacob asks, holding his daughter's hand still so that he can examine the ring. "I think you guys are still pretty young, and I think it would be a good idea if you waited until she was eighteen. But if you really don't want to wait that long, I'll sign the permission slip. I mean, you guys love each other. You've been working together to raise your kid. You've been taking time out of your busy schedules to work on your relationship. I think you guys have a really good chance of making it," Jacob says.
"Thank you, Daddy," Sam says, throwing her arms around her father.
"Get in here, Son," Jacob says, extending one of his hands to pull Jon into the hug.
-0-0-0-
The wedding was small. Sam said she wanted it that way. Jon secretly suspected that the list of people who would be willing to come out and support a teenage mother marrying her baby daddy would be a short list in deed. He would have argued with her and given her the wedding that she always wanted. Only, he was afraid that she just might be right. And he wasn't going to take that chance of disappointing her.
He seriously considered threatening random people on the street to fill up a church, but he could see so many ways that that could blow up on his face.
The door opens and Jane peaks around it with terror in her eyes. There is a basket of flowers at her elbow, but most of them spill out as she peaks around the corner.
"Come on, Jane," Jon says. Her eyes go on her father, and she takes off running toward him at a full spring. She leaps into his arms like she always does, and he spins her around.
Then in come Mark and Sam's best friend from school. Then Jacob and Sam start walking down the aisle.
Jon's breathe catches in his throat. Sam is always beautiful, but this is far beyond anything he's ever seen before.
It's her mother's dress. It's not the sort of thing that she would ever pick out for herself. Sam wore skirts all the time. But they were causal sorts of skirts. She never wore things that were covered in lace and frills. But somehow, this dress that she would have never picked out, it became her in every way that you could imagine.
"Mommy!" Jane yells, jumping in her father's arms in a way that clearly indicates that she wants down. When her usual body movements don't work she adds in words, "Down!"
"Honey, we have to stand here and wait for Mommy to come to us," Jon explains to her, not wanting her to make this wedding any more of spectacle than it already was.
"Why?" the child asks skeptically.
"Because it's tradition," Jon explains.
"No! Mommy!" she says stubbornly.
Sam bends over a little, and extends her hands to her daughter. Jack sighs, and lets his daughter run into his bride's arms.
Jane gives her mother a sloppy kiss on the check before she says, "Daddy wait," and pouts.
"Yes," Sam says, looking at her groom, "But Daddy won't have to wait much longer." She holds her daughter with one hand and her dress with her other, and then she runs to her groom. When she gets there, she takes his hand and pulls him closer to her, and leans her head against him. He puts his arm around her. He feels like he should care more about what people are thinking, but the ones who really think this is improper didn't even come.
-0-0-0-
They had been so careful, in all the time that they were dating, not to do anything that had the least smack of impropriety. It was stupid, perhaps, since all the world had branded them sluts. But it was important to them, somehow, that that was all a lie. They could press on if they knew for sure that that was all a lie.
They had spent so much time living in fear of any kind of public showing of affection that it made the wedding night an awkward one.
The kissing had gone on long enough that that was awkward in itself. Then Sam made a move to remove his shirt at the same time that Jon tried to flip her on the bed of the honeymoon suit. The result was Jon standing with a shirt over his head, and Sam laughing at him from the bed.
He pulls the shirt off and glares at her, "No giggling, Samantha."
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous," she tells him.
"You know, we don't have to do anything," he tells her.
"It's our wedding night!" she exclaims.
"And that doesn't mean anything. We can ease into this, if you want. We don't actually have to do everything all in one night. If you just want to take a little step tonight, and…" he says.
"Snuggle?" she asks, rolling over.
"I'd like that," he says, spooning up against her back. He feels her body relax a second after. He can't believe the amount of tension that was in her body. He starts to stroke her hair. She makes a quiet moan.
He's about to regret bringing up the 'take it slow' philosophy when she turns to him and gives a sizzling kiss.
"I love you, Jonathan Carter," she tells him.
He'd taken her last name in an effort to hide his rather hard-to-explain past. Most people who knew him thought it was just to distance himself from uncaring parents.
It was the first time that anyone had said his new name out loud. It sounded strange to him, but it was a good kind of strange. A kind of strange that he knew would become familiar. It was a kind of strange that sounded just a little bit like home.
"And I love you, Mrs. Carter," he tells her.
She'd never realized what him taking her name really meant. It mean that she was going to keep her name. But that she would keep her name with a new affix in front of it. And that in some ways she was taking on the name of her mother. It gives her a sharp pang in her gut, but a good kind of sharp pain in her gut. She feels like she is taking up the torch her mother couldn't finish carrying. It feels like a noble job.