Hey Sam, Come See What I Made Part 11

L. K. Poels

A few notes: Sorry for the extremely long wait. I had some personal issues along with other familial issues (everyone is ok). Besides that, if anyone can point out all of the pop culture references throughout this story, I will give you a special treat. I don't know what it will be but it will be worth your while. It's funny but I read the whole thing again and it didn't seem like I wrote it. What's up with all the sex? IDK. Also, I've noticed my paragraph spacing goes away when I upload it so I'm going to distinguish that better now. Again, sorry for the wait. Enjoy!

"Jesus Christ!" Sam shouted. "You scared the piss outta me."

"Hey, no more swearing, remember?" Cat scolded.

"Piss isn't really a swear word. Is it?"

"To me it is. What are we doing today?" Cat asked.

"Should we go to the park? Its such a nice day outside." Sam suggested.

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"How's my baby? Isn't she so cute? Yes, she is." Cat tickled and cooed at Clara who was giggling.

"Why do you talk to her like that? She's not a puppy." Sam asked. Cat turned around to look at her wife and gasped.

"What are you wearing?!" Cat put her hands over her mouth.

"Uh…clothes?" Sam said cautiously.

"I know but, but, but your wearing a skirt!" Cat mused.

"Well don't ya know? I'm wearing a skirt." Sam said as she spun around. "Is that a crime?"

"Well no. It's just that… I don't know…. You just never wear skirts. When did you buy that?"

"I had it since I moved here. It's one of Carly's old ones." Sam reminisced for a moment.

"I never saw it in the closet." Cat said.

"Ok well I'm going to take it off cause it's small and really itchy." Sam scratched herself.

"Nooo! Wear it! You look so nice." Cat whined.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCS "Isn't it a wonderful day? All the birds are singing, and we're a happy family." Cat said as she pushed the stroller with baby Clara in it. Sam walked next to her and watched the baby discover her hand.

"It is a beautiful day. And I'm here with two beautiful ladies." Sam smiled. "This is off topic, but I think one or both of us should get a job. Maybe not now while Clara's young, but maybe we should start thinking about that."

"You're right. Babysitting is nice but we can't support a family on it." Cat agreed. "We'll have to look online and around town."

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"There's nothing on here." Sam groaned while looking up jobs online. "Where are all the jobs at?"

"Don't finish a sentence with a preposition, honey. It's annoying." Cat replied.

"Ok Grammar Nazi. Jeez." Sam said sarcastically.

"Talk to Dice. Maybe he can hook you up." Cat suggested.

"That's not a bad idea." Sam agreed. Sam called Dice while Cat prepared dinner. Clara was beginning to eat some solids like puréed peas and nasty stuff. She never complained though. Just as Sam hung up the phone, it rang again. It was an Unknown Caller.

"Hello?" Sam answered the phone.

"Hi. Is this Samantha Puckett?" A man with a gravelly voice asked.

"Yes… Who's calling?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"My name is Stewart Stolth. My friends call me Sue. I own a place in Venice called The Frothy Armadillo. It's a bar near the shopping mall." Sue said.

"Sue? Don't you mean Stu?" Sam asked amusedly.

"No. Sue. That's right, I'm a boy named Sue." Sue laughed. Sam laughed, too.

"So why are you calling me, Sue?" Sam went back to being serious.

"Well, Samantha, my niece called me and told me you might be interested in taking over my business." Sue said.

"Uh… How would your niece know that? Who is she even?" Sam was confused. "And don't call me Samantha, call me Sam."

"Sorry, Sam. My niece's name is Carly Shay. She mentioned you were in the area, and I noticed you and your wife are entrepreneurs. I thought I would offer you my place for a very good price. It's very popular and many people frequent it frequently." Sue said.

"You're Carly Shay's uncle? No shit. Why didn't you say that in the first place?" Sam replied. "But don't I have to be over 21 to own a bar?"

"Well I'm thinking I would still be on the papers as owning it, because I still want to work there, but you could be the manager until you're old enough and you get more established. I think we could be a great team." Sue coughed loudly into the phone. "Would you like to meet up and discuss further details?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to talk about it. Where should we meet?" Sam asked.

"How about at your future business tomorrow at 3? Again it's the Frothy Armadillo on 72nd Street in Venice. I'm glad you're open to the idea." Sue coughs again. "I look forward to meeting you, Sam. And bring your wife. Couples are always good business partners."

"Sounds good, Sue. Thanks for calling." Sam hears a click as Sue hangs up. "Hey Cat, come here." Cat rounded the corner into the kitchen holding Clara.

"What's up?" Cat asked interested.

"I just got the weirdest call. So I guess my old friend Carly told her uncle I was in need of a job, and he just offered to sell me his bar. I'm kind of shocked right now. But I agreed to meet with him tomorrow, so you should come, too." Sam explained

"That is a weird thing. Are you sure it's a good idea to actually own a place?" Cat asked.

"He said I could be a manager right now until I establish myself in the business. It doesn't hurt to talk to him so we might as well do it. It's called the Frothy Armadillo. Crazy name. I don't want to know what a frothy armadillo looks like."

"haha. That is a funny name." Cat laughed. Clara giggled when she saw her mom laugh and grabbed Cat's shirt in her tiny fist. "What do you think about that, Clara? Well maybe we should eat and talk about that some more. I made spaghetti and meatballs."

"Well you know how to please." Sam laughed a bit. Everyone sat down. Clara sat in her highchair. Cat fed her some mashed up pears from a baby food jar. The door bell then rang throughout the house.

"Ding dong!" Cat mimicked. "Can you get that?" Sam walked to the door and opened it to find a tattered cardboard box.

"What the hell?" Sam was confused. She looked around and found no sign of anyone. "Cat, did you order something?"

"No, why?" Cat answered from the kitchen table.

"This box came. Really shitty box." Sam picked it up and brought it inside. Sam saw a note written on the side of the box that read From Pat Sandburn, a terminally ill elderly woman from Santa Monica. Please take care of this, as we know you can. –T. L.

"What's in it? What's in the box?" Cat comes over and looks at the box. Clara clangs her spoon on the high chair tray and gurgles.

"Look at this note. Do you know anyone named Pat Sandburn? Or someone with the initials T. L.?" Sam asked and looked for a place to open the tape on the box.

"No. I've never heard of anyone with either of those names." Cat replied curiously. "Do you think it's a mistake?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should send it to the police or something. What if it's something illegal?" Sam looked scared. "I don't want anything bad in my home."

"Well open it. If it's something bad we'll take it to the police. Since when are you afraid of something illegal?" Cat mused. Sam shook her head and continued opening the box. When she opened it, Sam and Cat gasped.