Waiting For My Rocket To Come
By: Anti Darth Ani
Chapter V - Those Wonderful Words
Samantha's eyes shot open as she awoke from her dream, or more like a nightmare. She sat up in the bedroom, gasping for air while trying to breathe. Martin stirred in the bed next to her, but luckily he didn't wake up. She brushed the short hairs out of his face, her hands trembling. Getting up slowly, she made her way into the living room and sank down into the couch. Her cell phone sat right there on the coffee table, staring her straight in the face and daring her to pick it up.
Samantha nervously bit the nail on her thumb. All she had to do was pick up the phone and punch in the memorized ten digit number, wait for someone to pick up on the other end of the line, and then just ask what she wanted to know. No small talk, no familiar conversation, just ask the question and hang up. Surely she could that without falling apart.
She picked up the cell phone off of the coffee table and turned the power on. Flipping up the top, Samantha punched in the ten digit number. Her finger paused over the send button. Did she ever need to know if it was true? Yes, she decided. If she didn't ask, it would drive her crazy for the following months of her life. She already had enough on her mind to worry about.
It rang once, twice, three times. Samantha was in the process of hanging up when a groggy voice answered on the other end of the line, "Hello?"
Samantha sucked in a sharp breath. The last time she heard that voice was… no, she wouldn't think about that now. She would ask the question and hang up. No small talk, no catching up or talking about the city. Just ask the question, get an answer, and it's over. "Do I have a brother?" she asked.
A long silence followed on the other end. When the voice responded, it seemed much more awake and alert. "Samantha, darling, it that you?"
"Do I have a brother?" Samantha asked again, wishing the woman would just answer the question.
"I haven't heard from you in forever. Not since you moved to that horrible city years ago. How's the weather? Are you getting any snow over there yet? And what about your personal life? I heard that you got your nose a little dirty in an adult relationship with your boss a while back-"
"Do I have a brother or not?" Samantha snapped, interrupting the woman in mid sentence. She didn't have the patience or will to continue listening to the ramblings of an aging woman.
"I was worried when Brandon told me he wanted to go to the city. I mean, I lost you to the city first, but my younger child, too? I knew he wanted to find you, Sam." A pause stretched, following by a clicking noise and then the voice returned. "I got pregnant with Brandon about two weeks before your father's accident."
Samantha sighed, a tear streaming down her cheek, "And what? You just decided it wasn't a big deal that you were going to have a baby, so you didn't tell me?"
"What would you have said, Sam? I know how you felt about your father and me. You're twenty years older than Brandon. We weren't careful is what happened. But Brandon's been a blessing to me. I mean, how am I supposed to explain to my two month old baby that he's already an uncle-"
"We're not talking about me and my mistakes," Samantha snapped, cutting her off. "This conversation is about you and your lies to me for over half my life! How could you just keep this from me for all of this time?"
"When was I supposed to tell you?" her mother retorted. "After your father's funeral, you just left, Sam. All you left me was the name of a city and a street address. You didn't give me a chance to tell you!"
Her mother shocked her more and more with each sentence. "Never gave you a chance?" Samantha hissed, her voice raising despite her effort to keep quite in order to let Martin sleep. "You've had fifteen years, mother! You couldn't have added a little P.S. to the bottom of one of your birthday or Christmas cards, telling me I have a little brother?"
"I didn't think it would be appropriate to discuss it over the phone or at the end of a stupid card. I wanted to tell you in person, Sam. I didn't want it to happen like this."
"I don't have to listen to your bullshit anymore. Fuck you and your lies," Samantha snapped, hanging up before her mother could reply again. The woman on the other end of the phone sat on her bed, utterly shocked by her daughter's behavior and language.
Samantha set her cell phone back down on the coffee table after double checking that the power was completely off. She slipped back into the bed next to Martin facing away from him and looking out between the blinds at the dark night. She thought she saw some flakes of snow, but it could have been her imagination as well.
Samantha wiped away the few tears on her face, but when she did this, she thought about her father again and her old life at home. The image of her father's grave brought a fresh, bigger wave of tears. Her whole body began to shake softly as she buried her head against the pillow, willing for the images to go away, for the tears to stop.
Martin's eyes opened and his ears heard the soft sobs coming from the woman in bed next to him. He propped his head up on one hand and pulled Samantha's blond hair back behind her shoulder. She pushed her head further into the pillow, getting her face out of Martin's view. "Sam?" he whispered, rubbing up and down her arm with his hand softly, trying to comfort her.
He brushed at her hair again, letting his hand rest on the side of her face. "Sam, what's wrong?"
Samantha shook her head, as if trying to tell him nothing. Well, a blind man could tell she was far from fine. He used most of the strength his had to turn her protesting body around to face him. Her eyes were red from crying and she looked so depressed it broke Martin's heart.
He sat up in the bed and pulled her up against him. Samantha rested her face against his undershirt, clinging to him helplessly when the sobs refused to stop. Martin wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders, running his hand through her hair repeatedly. "Shhh, Sam," he murmured against the top of her hair.
"I hate her," Samantha whispered, choking down another sob that threatened to come. Martin looked down at the woman in his arms, who rarely showed so much raw emotion. "She's lied to me for all this time and she's not even sorry."
Martin kissed the top of her head and ran his hand up and down her back, watching the tears slow down. "Who's lied to you?" he asked patiently. Samantha shook her head, letting out a small yawn. All the crying made her tired.
"My mother lied to me. Brandon is my brother. My full brother." Samantha laughed at the irony. "I almost wish my mother had cheated on my father so that he would only be my half-brother. Then I wouldn't feel as betrayed about it. I expect my mother to cheat on my father, since she was drunk half her life, but not this. Never this." Samantha sighed, snuggling her head into a more comfortable position against his chest, "Just hold me, Martin," she whispered.
Martin nodded, and kissed the top of her head. His eyes only closed when he felt her breathing even out and her grip loosened on his undershirt.
Samantha woke up feeling abnormally cheerful. She sat up in the bed, stretching out in all directions while letting out a huge, loud yawn. Her fingers reached the headboard and her toes barely touched the footboard. Samantha smiled to herself, resting one hand under her head while she went to push the hair out of her eyes. She felt a stiff piece of paper on her forehead. With little effort, Samantha pulled the note taped to her forehead off. How she hadn't noticed it as soon as she woke up she didn't know.
Sam-
Surprise for you in the kitchen. WAKE UP!
Marty
Samantha grinned when she read the 'Marty' at the bottom. He was either in a really good mood too, or he felt really bad about her breakdown early in the morning. Samantha hoped to God it was the first one.
Samantha dug into Martin's closet, pulling out one of his oversized football team shirts and, raiding herself of her own clothes, pulled it on over her head. She figured she would give him a little treat before work in thanks for helping her through her meltdown.
By the time Samantha made her way into the living room, Martin was humming while twirling a spatula in his hand. He then poured some batter onto the pan on the stove. Soon his humming became full out singing and Samantha smiled to herself. Even without trying to, Martin could make everything seem perfect, even if all hell was breaking out around the apartment. Just one of the many reasons she loved him so much.
"HEY! Give me space so I can breathe…" Martin wailed at the top of his lungs, flipping over the pancake like a pizza made with dough. "Give me space so I can see. Give me space so you can drown in this with me."
"Please don't ever mention drowning around me again," Samantha kidded, announcing her presence. Martin froze in mid twirl of the spatula. It clattered to the floor, but he was grinning anyways. He disappeared behind the counter for a moment while he retrieved the utensil, but then his head popped back up and he set it back down on the counter.
He motioned for her to join him in the little kitchen. Samantha slowly made her way across the short distance from the hallway to the bed to the kitchen. Martin turned her to face the stove and plopped the flipper in her hand. Samantha glanced over her shoulder at him, wondering what he wanted her to do. Rolling his eyes at her, Martin put his hand over hers and helped her flip the two huge pancakes over onto their other sides. The pan sizzled and Martin grinned.
"I figured you could use a little cheering up after talking to your mother," Martin explained, pointing to the coffee machine, which was almost done with her morning coffee, the fresh fruit in the basket on the kitchen counter, and the pancakes still cooking.
Samantha turned around to face him, a huge grin covering her face. It was going to be such a great day, she could tell right now. Falling back asleep in his arms felt so perfect. Sure, she had to work, but afterwards, she would be coming back with him. She knew how to persuade him into a sappy romantic film if she tired. A bowl of popcorn and a glass of wine and the evening would be perfect.
"You already cheered me up earlier, Marty," she told him, looping her arms around his neck. She scooted a little to the left, the heat from the stove starting to hurt her back. "You really didn't have to go out of your way for me like this," Samantha pulled his head closer to her, "but I'm glad you did."
Martin rested his hands on the counter on either of her sides, leaning even closer. Samantha didn't know if it was the heat from the stove being on or from being so close to him, but suddenly even his oversized t-shirt seemed to make her feel like her skin was burning. "I love you, Martin," she whispered while she brushed her lips against his.
Martin stepped as close as he could get to her, effectively pinning her against the counter. "God, I love you, Sam," he whispered back, pressing his lips against hers urgently. Suddenly, those three most powerful words in the English language weren't hard to say at all. They just fit into everything, a single piece in the bigger puzzle. Martin could tell Samantha was grinning against his mouth. He left one hand on the counter while he used his other to run through Samantha's hair, pulling her head even closer to his.
Martin pulled away only because he smelled something burning. "Oh shit!" he shouted, jerking away from Samantha to grab the handle of the pan on the stove. He dumped the pancakes into the garbage can before setting the pan on the counter. Martin blushed slightly, "Maybe pancakes weren't such a good idea."
For the first time in months, Samantha let out a laugh. A real, side splitting laugh that made her hold onto the counter to support herself. Her breaths came in gasps and it hurt like hell to breath, but the laughing wouldn't stop. Martin shook his head at her, spraying the pan before setting it back down on the stove. He still had a little batter left that he poured into the pan. Samantha distracted him when she laughed so hard she snorted. Her snort made her cover her face with her hands, but she just laughed even harder.
"Sam, it wasn't that funny. Samantha, are you okay?" he asked, pulling her hand away from her face to look at her. She clung to his arm, gasping for air, the laughing finally subsiding. Martin chuckled at her, kissing her forehead before setting his attention back to the stove. "Why don't you sit down on the bar stool there before you hurt yourself? Or anyone else for that matter."
Samantha sank into the seat, watching him over the counter. Nothing could ruin her day. He had finally told her how he felt. Samantha Spade was walking on clouds.
