A/N: Many thanks to QuinnAbrams for writing the adorable skating scene in this part. If you are following my story, I would love a review.
Sam
The next three days of holiday bliss were all about showing the kids to a good time in Lima and making memories. No one knew better how to have fun at Christmas than a nine-year-old and a ten-year-old. On Sunday night, both families drove around and looked at the best light displays in town. Then on Monday, Amy, Artie, and Sam took the little kids shopping so that they could spend their own money on presents for the family. All in all, Sam thought these would be the things he'd remember the most this Christmas.
How very wrong he turned out to be.
"Are you sure that you're cool with it if Amy and I take the kids skating at the ice rink?" Sam asked Artie for about the thousandth time that day, on Tuesday, which also happened to be Christmas Eve.
He had fully intended to only partake in activities that Artie was able to fully participate in. Artie always insisted that he never felt left out, but Sam still couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.
"Sam, I'm good, really," Artie insisted. "I'm going to get dinner started so that it's ready for when you all get home, and I was texting Julie today, and we're gonna FaceTime later. Don't worry about me, I'll be keeping myself busy. It'll be nice to actually have some peace and quiet around here…"
"If you're sure." The brief conversation left Sam feeling a tiny bit better as he pulled on his snow boots and gathered his jacket, heading for the bottom of the stairs.
"Amy! Stevie! Stacey!" Sam called up to the others. "Ready to go?"
"Yup!" Stacey exclaimed, her blonde pigtails bouncing as she ran down the stairs, Stevie and Amy following close behind.
"Don't have too much fun without me," Artie warned as the foursome headed towards the front door. "And don't be home too late either. Penne a'la vodka is Dad's favorite, and if you want any, you'll have to beat him to it."
"And we have to make cookies for Santa!" Stacey reminded him, resting her hand on Artie's denim-clad thigh and flashing puppy-dog eyes in his direction.
"Oh, right! How could I forget?!" was Artie's exaggerated reply as he tapped her nose. "You better leave now then, if you want to have enough time to skate!"
Sam smiled at the interaction between his sister and his best friend before clapping his hands together.
"You heard the man! Come on, Stace, let's go!" Sam said as he opened the door and shooed his girlfriend and siblings outside into the chilly air. With a wave to Artie, he shut the door and followed them out to where his pickup truck was waiting in the driveway.
After the four of them had rented skates from the rink, Sam and Amy laced up theirs before assisting the younger two. When everyone was ready to go, the three Evans siblings stepped tentatively onto the ice, while Amy was much more confident. Her strides were smooth and elegant, from the moment she'd taken to the ice. Sam and the kids watched her in awe as they clung to the railing around the rink and shuffled their feet along.
"Woah, Ames! Where'd you learn to skate like that?!" Sam couldn't help but marvel at her gracefulness.
Amy blushed.
"I used to skate a lot when I was younger. Soccer was Artie's 'thing', and skating was mine," Amy replied. "It's been a while, though, and I thought I'd be rusty, but I guess it's just like riding a bike."
"You're really good!" Stevie commented as Amy did a twirl. She stopped and did a curtsy.
"You guys will get the hang of it soon enough," Amy assured them.
And, little by little, they did. Only a short while later, Stevie and Stacey took off, racing each other around the outdoor rink, leaving Sam and Amy to have some much-anticipated alone time.
"Why didn't you tell me you were, like, a professional figure skater?" Sam asked, losing his balance for a moment and nearly falling to the ground before he steadied himself.
Amy just shrugged, adjusting her knit hat before shoving her gloved hands in her pockets and looking away for a brief moment as she glided effortlessly along on the ice.
"I don't know. I quit a little while after the accident," Amy confessed. "If Artie didn't get to play his sport anymore, I didn't want to do mine either. It didn't really seem fair."
Sam was silent for a second or two.
"You know he wouldn't have wanted you to stop-"
"No, no, I know he wouldn't have," Amy cut him off. "But Mom always had to take me to practice before school. And, after Artie's accident, I knew she'd try to make time, but we didn't really have time. So I just pretended I didn't want to get up for practice anymore."
Sam couldn't imagine how Amy must have felt back then. She was only twelve when the accident happened, and her world was undoubtedly turned upside down too, even if she wasn't the one who was hurt, physically.
"I like having you guys here," Amy said, skating ahead and swiftly changing the conversation's focus away from herself. "It's fun getting to experience Christmas through a kid's perspective again. It's been a while."
Sam nodded, skating after her and attempting to keep up. He may not have looked as fluid as she did, but at least he could basically match her speed.
"I figure we only have a few more of these until the magic wears off," Sam replied. "It's been a rough couple of years for them and the fam, and I'm happy that they get to celebrate a real Christmas this year, here in Lima. And I'm glad I get to spend it with you."
The sun was setting just as huge snowflakes began to float down from the sky. Amy slowed her skating down to a stop as she grinned up at Sam, and he couldn't help but smile back. She grasped the collar of his jacket with both hands as she pulled him down into a deep kiss. When they finally pulled apart, they could see that they had an audience.
"Okay, first of all, ew," Stacey said as she stuck out her tongue at her brother's PDA. "And second of all, Artie said we can't be home too late or else we won't get dinner or have time to make cookies for Santa, and it's getting dark."
Amy and Sam looked at one another again for a moment, sharing a guilty smile.
"You're right, Stace," Sam said finally, putting his arm around Amy. "Let's head home. Artie's waiting for us."
On Christmas morning, Sam woke up to find Artie's bed already empty, as usual. He couldn't figure out how the guy did it. Even with the chair, he still managed to be so quiet that Sam never even stirred once. Either that, or Sam must have been a very heavy sleeper.
There was also a fresh blanket of snow, which meant that when Stevie and Stacey finished opening their gifts that morning, they'd probably want to go out and play for awhile. Amy was surprised to see that Stevie and Stacey had been slowly changing Artie's attitude about snow. It had even been his idea, a few days ago, to build a snowman. Artie had found all the accessories to make the handicapable snowman, the Artie Two. They'd gone out and fixed him a few times, so that the snowman with the wheels on either side of his body still sat, tall and proud, in front of the Abrams' home.
Sam was about to get out of bed (er, well, couch) when the door flew open and his brother bounded into the room, leaping right on top of him and knocking the wind out of him so that it took him a minute to catch his breath again.
"We're just waiting on you and Amy," Stevie reported. "Mom say when everyone is ready, we can open our gifts."
"Okay, just let me use the bathroom and brush my teeth," Sam told him. With a brisk nod, Stevie bounded out of the room again.
When Sam emerged, still in his comfy sweats, because that was just how it worked around the Abrams house for everyone, except for Artie, who almost never dressed in anything that wasn't a pair of jeans or khakis if anyone but his family was around. That was just Artie for you. It took Sam a lot less effort to change his pants, yet here he was.
Artie was helping the kids sort their gifts. Stacey piled all of hers in his lap, then he wheeled to one side of the tree and dumped them into a heap on the floor. He then went back and let Stevie do the same thing, dumping his gifts on the opposite side. Both kids had two gifts from their parents (one was from "Santa"), one from Nancy and John Abrams, one from Artie, one from Amy, and one from Sam, a whopping six gifts a piece!
It almost made Sam want to cry, when he thought back to the Christmases where the only gifts the kids had gotten came from the angel tree at the mall. Now, granted, that was a wonderful thing, in and of itself. It was the reason that Sam, Amy, and Artie had pitched in to adopt their own angel tree kid for the holidays that year, too. But it was a hard thing for his parents, when they couldn't give their own kids a proper Christmas. Sam watched his mother tuck her head against his father's shoulder, as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue from the box on the coffee table.
"We got this for you, Artie," Stacey said, picking up one more box to deposit in his lap. "And this is for Sammy..." She carried another box to Sam.
"And we have something for Amy," Stevie added, picking up the last box that they'd wrapped a few nights ago, while watching Jim Carrey's 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas.'
"Where is she?" Stevie asked, and that was when Sam noticed that she still hadn't come down.
"I'll go get her," Sam volunteered, setting aside his present, and heading up the stairs, calling, "Amy, you ready?"
When he reached the top of the stairs, he heard coughing and then the horrible sound of retching, on the other side of the door. "In here," she said, weakly. "It's open..."
He was unprepared for the sight of her sitting on the bathroom floor, hunched over the toilet. She gave him a long look before flinching again and leaning over, as she vomited once more.
"Are you sick?" He quickly stepped inside and closed the door but stayed away from her.
"Uh, no, it's worse," Amy said, sighing as she closed the lid to the toilet and flushed it. She pulled herself up to a seated position, on the edge of the tub. It was then that she looked at something on the counter, Sam's eyes following hers to the object sitting there. He found himself staring at a pink plus sign on a stick.
"I bought the test last night," Amy explained. "I went back out after dinner. Artie's dinner that I didn't even eat because the smell of the kitchen when we got home made me want to puke. Just like the smell of the chili he made and that bacon you made me last week..."
Sam could only stare at her. He'd lost the ability to form words.
"I was always so tired, but I thought it was because of work, then work stopped, but I was still tired. And then greasy food started making me nauseous. And it looks like now I've actually started throwing up..." she sighed. "The test said to take it in the morning, so I took it this morning. God, I'm... I'm so sorry, Sam."
Sam backed up, feeling like he was going to need to sit too. He found a seat on the counter before his legs gave way from under him. With the color draining from his face too now, matching Amy's that was already pale and clammy from getting sick, Sam heaved a huge sigh and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands.
"But... but..." he looked up at her, as another thought entered in mind. "I thought you said you were on the pill."
"I am," Amy said. "Well. I mean, I was. It's just..." Now she looked even more ashamed, as she confessed the next part. "That's why I'm really sorry, Sam, because I was on the pill, it's just I've only ever really taken it to control my acne and stuff, not to actually prevent pregnancy, so I'm not as consistent as I should have been."
Sam fought the urge to get sick himself, as the news began to really sink in. He had gotten Amy pregnant. They'd only had sex once, yet they'd still gotten pregnant. Now she was with child. His child. He just stared at her for a long time, until a voice from downstairs broke their silence.
"You guys coming down?" Artie was calling to them, from the bottom of the stairs. "The kids are getting impatient."
They both looked at each other in alarm. "Coming!" Amy yelled, then jumping to her feet, she grabbed some mouthwash off the counter and quickly swished it around her mouth, spitting hastily. She splashed her face with water and pinched her cheeks, trying to get the color to return.
"Are you done throwing up?!" Sam cried.
She nodded, quickly smoothing her ponytail. "We'll talk about this later," she assured him, and he was left standing alone in the bathroom, looking down at the pregnancy test that was still taunting him on the countertop. He hastily opened the top drawer and stashed it in what appeared to be Amy's makeup bag. Then he had no choice but to follow her downstairs and try to pretend he hadn't just gotten news that ruined both of their lives.
Hours that felt like days passed before they could escape to be alone again. They'd finally found a way out when Nancy had announced that she was out of mini marshmallows for their yams for that evening's feast. Sam and Amy volunteered to brave the grocery store on Christmas Day.
"Maybe we should buy another pregnancy test," Sam suggested, as soon as she climbed into his truck and shut the door.
"I really don't think we need to, it's not wrong," Amy said, in a small voice, folding her hands in her lap after she'd clicked her seatbelt into place. "My period's late. I have all the symptoms I read about online. I'm so sorry Sam, but you don't have to do anything. It's my fault. It's my problem to deal with."
Sam had been backing out, but stopped when she said that and stared, his jaw dropping. "Deal with?" he repeated, feeling like he was the one who was gonna get sick again this time. He didn't like what he thought she was implying. "What are you saying you wanna do?"
"I'm twenty-three, you're eighteen," she said, as if it were obvious, not understanding he thought she was talking about an abortion. "I mean, I'm lucky, I have this job now. I think my family would be supportive, when they get used to the idea. I'm... I'm not in such a bad place in life to raise a baby. But you, you're just starting out..."
"Amy," he said, flatly, and then he realized he'd better drive. He was just glad that what he thought she was saying apparently wasn't what she meant at all. He backed the truck out, put it into drive, and set off for the store.
"I don't know what kind of guy you think I am," he went on. "But I'm not going to do that to you. I don't really care if I'm just starting out. I... I have my whole life to do college. My plans can change, if they need to."
Amy was shaking her head. "You're a part of this great collegiate swim team," she said. "I meant yeah, so what if it is all girls? You... you got a full ride to a great college because of it. And you're my brother's roommate. I can't take all of that away from you. Or him, for that matter..."
It was then that she finally broke down and started crying. Sam wanted to pull over right then and tell her it was going to be fine, but the truth was, it was anything but fine. He kept driving until they got to the store. Absent-mindedly, he parked.
"You're in... the handicap spot," Amy pointed out, between her heavy sobs. He backed out and pulled into the next empty space instead. "Th-thanks."
He turned to face her. "So, when would the baby be due?"
She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. "Uh, I think around... August." It wasn't like they didn't know the exact date of the conception. It most definitely was gonna be August. Sam nodded, the wheels in his mind turning.
"So, if I finished out this semester at OSU," he began. "I'd be home in plenty of time to marry you this summer and then we could move into together and have a baby. I could take care of the baby while you teach during the day... and... and take community college classes in the evening. Maybe I could find some kind of job to do at night, too..."
Amy's eyes were huge. "Whoa, um, Sam?" she actually laughed a little. "You-you don't have to marry me. Just... just slow down a little."
Now Sam was the one to look stunned. "Don't have to marry you?" he echoed. "Amy, you're gonna be the mother of my child, of course I want to marry you. And there is no slowing down, we have nine months. Or eight... I'm unclear. Regardless... not much time."
Amy actually laughed a little at Sam's frantic planning. "Okay, okay," she said, holding up her hands. "You're forgetting a couple things. One, Artie's having major surgery this summer. I can't get married if my brother can't be there. And two, I don't want to get married with a huge, pregnant belly. That's just..."
"— what my parents did," Sam supplied, as she bit her lip and looked embarrassed. "I'll have to show you their wedding pictures someday. And their graduation pictures. I'm featured in both."
Smiling, she leaned in to kiss him quickly. "Well, uh, I personally think a wedding could wait," she said. "But, for the record... thanks. It means a lot, that you would marry me."
Sam nodded, then gave a hard swallow as the next thought took shape. "What are we going to tell Artie?"
"Well, we don't have to say anything right away," Amy replied, shrugging. "We can wait a little while before we say anything, right?" When Sam just stared at her, she gave him a tight-lipped smile. "C'mon, let's go get the marshmallows for those disgusting, greasy yams."