The next morning, Samantha walked down the staircase leading into the kitchen. She found her mother cooking a feast. She cooked omelets, bacon, pancakes, and oatmeal. Samantha was shocked when she saw her mother cooking up a storm. As a child, Sam's mother never made her anything to eat. Her mother usually gave her money so she could buy breakfast and lunch at school. Her mother usually came home late, so her continuous nannies or babysitter cooked for her. I guess that is why Samantha turned out a bad cook. Her mother never taught her.

"Mom." Samantha said.

"Oh hi Samantha. Did I wake you.?" Her mother said awed.

"No. No." Samantha woke up two hours ago. She woke up thinking how could she tell her mother that she was going to be a mother too.

"Are you hungry?" Cynthia asked.

"Yes. Mom this looks great!" The last time Samantha has eaten a good meal was about two days ago.

Samantha was gobbling down the food hastily. Cynthia didn't say anything. She was just happy that her daughter liked her food. Samantha gorged down her food in less than ten minutes.

"You liked it." Cynthia asked pleased.

"Yes." Samantha honesty loved the food. Nonetheless she was in the stage of her pregnancy where if it was edible she would eat it.

"Samantha… I glad that you gave up your time to visit. Lately, I have been feeling guilty." Cynthia said.

"Why?" Sam said taciturnly.

"Because lately at the nursing home" (her mother worked as a nurse at the nursing home) "I've seen the other mothers, both old and young. I seen how happy they are with their families. They are so close. But with me, I pushed you so far away that you don't even want to pick up the phone."

"But mom, that wasn't your fault. It's was mine. I was afraid… The day I left, I guess I never looked back. When time came that I really needed you I was afraid that you wouldn't help. But now…" Samantha all of sudden felt nauseated.

"But what?" Cynthia wanted to know what Sam was going to say.

"Can you excuse me." Samantha headed down the hall briefly trying to get to the bathroom.


After a good solid twenty five minutes. Samantha was still in their throwing up. For the past three weeks her morning sickness had never lasted this long.

"Samantha." Her mother knocked on the door concerned. She opened the door. "Samantha. Are you alright?"

"Yeah mom." She coughed up some more.

"Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital? Was it my food? Oh goodness I feel so terrible." Her mother said guilty.

"Mom it is not your fault." Samantha devoted.

"Is there anything that I can do?" Cynthia delicately wondered.

"I would just like a few more minutes to myself." Samantha kindly implied.

"Okay Samantha. If you need me I'll be down the hall." Cynthia left still feeling guilty.

After another ten minutes in the bathroom, Samantha actually had time to think. She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew that she was pregnant and she would have to face it.

Somehow, trying to accept it did not feel right. She didn't know why but she felt as if something was wrong.

After she was completely done she walked out of the bathroom, she found her mother in the small living room sitting on the coach.

"Sorry about that." Samantha said.

"Are you alright?" Cynthia asked apprehensive.

"Yeah I'm fine." Samantha confirmed.

Cynthia smiled drinking a cup of coffee. Samantha sat next to her so she could rest her head on her shoulder. It felt great that Samantha could lean on someone she knew she could trust. Her mother made a lot of mistakes but Samantha always felt that she could lean on her.


Sam's mother left for the grocery store. While she was gone, Samantha had some time to think. She wanted to tell her mother but Sam was nervous that her mother might react excessively.

By the time Sam's mom got home, it was nearly dark (about six p.m.). The nearest grocery store was an hour away. After her mother put away the groceries, it was utterly quiet.

"I know that we did not have the perfect relationship Sam…" Her mother broke the silence.

"What do you mean?" Samantha was being polite.

"I wasn't the mother you needed me to be." Cynthia explained, "I always loved you but I never showed it…" All of sudden Samantha's phone rang.

"Sorry." Samantha said. She looked down at the caller ID and it said FITZEGERALD, MARTIN. Samantha did not want to answer it but knowing Martin, he would of kept on calling all night.

"Can you give me a second." Samantha got up and headed to the hallway so her mother could not here her.

She open her phone, "Hello."

"Sam. Its me, Martin." Martin said clearly.

"I know. Martin why are you calling me?" Sam said frustrated. Martin and her were suppose to be taking a break.

"I just wanted to make sure you made it there alright." Martin said remorsefully.

"Well I did." Sam said aggravated.

"Listen I'm sorry Samantha, I just miss you okay. I want…" Marin apologies.

"I'm pregnant." Samantha blabbed.

Once the words went into his ears he was astonished, "So the doctors…"

"The doctors told me I was five weeks in." Samantha finished the sentence. She sat down on love seat to find that her mother was listening in her conversation.

Cynthia was horrified. She did not expect this. It was so subtle. Somehow, she was not happy about this. Cynthia left the room livid!

"Martin I have to call you back." Sam said.

"Mom." Samantha chased after her. When she went into the kitchen, she found her mom taking a bottle of vodka. Then in a heartbeat, the emotions in the room were just like in high school.

"How dare you." Her mother voice transformed from a sweet angel into an evil fiend.

"Mom." Samantha didn't know what to say.

"How much money do you need?" Cynthia shouted.

"Mom can you calm down?" Samantha asked poignantly. The one person she needed wasn't even on her side.

"Is that why you came here?" Cynthia argued.

"No." Samantha began to cry.

"Why! Was if for money? Do you need a place to live?" Cynthia would not calm down at all.

"I came here to be with you. I need you mom. I came to have your support!" Samantha leaved.

"Leave!" Cynthia said quieter but she still had her mean tone.

"What." Samantha said shocked.

"You can't show up here anytime you want and ask for help. It doesn't work like that." Cynthia stated.

"Why?" Samantha begged.

"Where were you when I needed you. You weren't here when I almost lost my life. You weren't here when my dad died. You weren't here when I was trying to control my drinking. You weren't here!" She began to cry too.

"I was afraid to come home." Samantha explained.

"But when you needed me, you weren't afraid." Cynthia said.

"I'm sorry." Samantha said

Cynthia headed for the cabinet and grabbed a glass. She poured the vodka about half way and took a sip, "Just leave."


What was Samantha suppose to do? She needed someone. Her mom was too mad to help. Martin was too scared to help. She couldn't tell anyone at work. She had no one. She didn't even have herself.

"He cares about me. He loves me mom. He loves me enough that I would go across the country with him. I'm sad to say that you don't love me enough to keep me to stay." Samantha said.

"Samantha I love you." Her mother argued.

"Well not enough." Samantha said as cold and dark.

She opened the door with her suit case.

"Samantha." Her mom said.

"Yes mom."

"Don't be afraid to come back." Cynthia declared strongly.

Samantha had her suitcase and heading down the stairs. When she reached the front door she looked around. She saw her mom passed out on the couch. It was like high school all over again. She was scared and no one cared about her. Samantha did not care about herself.

She opened the door.

COULD SHE KEEP THIS BABY?