December 24th 1949
Sammy was home for Christmas. Home, home being New Orleans that didn't even feel like home anymore. He'd shed his memories, ditched his ghosts. What was left?
It was while Aunt Mabel and Lois were making Christmas dinner (or at least while Mabel tried to show Lois how to cook) that Steve dragged Sammy aside.
"I need a job," he said plain and clearly. "I can't handle being here anymore, I need to be doing something and I… well, I spend a lot of time in the shop at school. I've been raising college money like a madman. All the letters that you and Rodrigue send got me really curious and all. Do you think I could come work in Houston?"
"No way," Sammy said right away.
"Sammy..."
"There are only two of us in the shop, Steve. It's not an easy job, are you sure it's what you want to do?"
"It's the only thing about New Orleans I can stand at this point, except family of course."
"Yeah, they're the silver lining about this place, I've got to agree. Lois is actually pretty-good looking. I'm concerned about this." Sammy said.
"Don't change the subject." Steve said sternly. He looked a lot like their father, and that made Sammy so incredibly ill at ease...
"Steve, I love you. I really, really do," Sammy said. "But I don't want you to make a rash decision and shoot down a bigger opportunity or something to…"
"Sammy," Steve cut. "No. Just give me the job or don't. Nothing better's coming my way, and I'm pretty sure this is what I want to do."
Sammy held out his hand. Rodrigue would have his say in it later, like, when-Steve-would-get-to-New-Orleans later. "You're hired, little brother."