"Brooke, have you seen Sam?" Jane asked as she finished setting the table. It was time for dinner and everyone was at the table except Sam. She hadn't seen her daughter since she and Brooke arrived home from school and she had a nagging feeling that something was wrong.
"She took a bath as soon as she got home and then went to her room, I haven't seen her since," Brooke replied with a shrug.
That definitely made Jane a little curious. Sam had undoubtedly retreated into herself since her father died, but locking herself away in her room was unusual. Being in a new environment required some time to adjust. Maybe she just needed some space…maybe she was just being a moody teenager. It was probably nothing, but Jane's motherly instincts took over and she decided to go check on her daughter anyway.
"You guys go ahead and start dinner without me. I'm going to go see what's keeping Sam," Jane said to Mike and Brooke.
It wasn't unusual for Sam to get caught up in writing or a good book and forget about anything else she had to do…including eating, so Jane wasn't particularly worried.
"Sammy!" she called as she made her way down the hall toward her daughter's room. "Dinner's ready, sweetie."
She knocked lightly on the door, but Sam didn't answer. Maybe she was angry about something.
"Come on Sammy you have to eat so…" she started as the opened the door, but quieted as soon as she caught sight of her daughter.
Now she definitely knew something was wrong. It was 6:30 and Sam was in her pajamas and in the midst of a fitful sleep. Jane sighed as she walked over to the bed and sat down gently on the edge, being careful not to wake her tossing and turning beauty. Sam never went to bed this early. Jane felt her forehead thinking that maybe she wasn't feeling well, but she was cool to the touch. She was puzzled until she caught sight of Sam's red, swollen eyelids, and the tear tracks down her face. She had cried herself to sleep.
"Oh baby," she said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. She looked over at the night table and saw the toppled bottle of ibuprofen and a picture frame she knew all too well. She righted the bottle, and the frame…not at all surprised to find her deceased husband's face staring back at her. It wasn't hard to put things together.
That robe that Sam was wrapped in, that was unmistakable. Joe. She knew for sure that her little girl was having a rough time now. She had given that to Sam after Joe's funeral because she could no longer stare at it hanging on their bathroom door. It brought back too many happy memories, too many thoughts that were hard for her to handle. Sam only curled up in that bathrobe when she was particularly troubled. That robe had been a constant in her life during the period of deep depression she went through after her father died.
Jane began to absentmindedly stroke her hair and rub her back in soothing circles, paying special attention to the downy soft fringe around her hairline. Sam sighed softly and calmed a bit, but never roused from her slumber. She couldn't help but think that maybe she was making the wrong decision here. Sure, she loved Mike, and she deserved to be happy again, but Sam deserved that too. She felt like a bad mother for forcing Sam into this move…for dragging her out of the home she grew up in, for being the cause of her misery.
Sam was her little girl, her baby…and her baby was in pain both mentally and physically. It was all her fault. No, it was Joe's fault. She stared angrily at his picture. If he hadn't died they would still be a happy little family living in their warm comfortable home. She knew it wasn't his fault, but she couldn't help it. She would give anything to be able to come home and find Sam and Joe huddled together around the computer hashing out an article.
She leaned in close and began to whisper softly into Sam's ear. "Sammy, baby, I love you more than anything in this world. I thought…I don't know, I just thought that this would be good for both of us. Honey, you've got to know that I didn't do this to hurt you or to make you uncomfortable…and I'm certainly not trying to replace your father. I—I just want to see you happy again."
Maybe she was doing the wrong thing. If the current situation was making Sam that unhappy, maybe moving in with Mike and Brooke had happened too soon. She just couldn't stand to see her miserable like this. They needed to talk but she couldn't bear to wake her. In her head she planned to come wake her early tomorrow morning, she'd ditch work and excuse Sam from school, and they'd have a mother/daughter day out. They hadn't spent any real quality time together in quite a while.
Once again her motherly instincts were nagging at her. She removed the fuzzy slippers and socks from Sam's feet, and then she carefully eased her out of her father's robe and placed it neatly on a chair. After rummaging through several boxes she finally found what she was looking for…Sam's favorite down comforter. She smiled as she tucked it around the sleeping teenager, it reminded her of all the times she'd tucked her in as a little girl.
"Us against the world, babe. Always," she whispered as she bent over and planted a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. She drew the curtains closed then quietly made her exit. Her mind was still reeling as she made her way back downstairs to the kitchen.
"Jane? Is everything okay? Where's Sam?" Mike asked, genuinely concerned. She was so preoccupied his voice had actually startled her a bit.
"Yes…no…I mean, she's not coming down, she's sleeping off a bad headache," Jane replied.
Mike nodded but didn't ask any more questions, while Jane sat down to her now cold dinner and hoped that everything would turn out for the best.
TBC…
