Chapter 2 – More Sudden Than a Gunshot Wound
A Month Later…
She hated doing that to her mom, asking her to watch Alex while she was gone. Her mom did enough just by taking care of Alex while she was at school, so she didn't really want to ask her to watch him now. But this conversation had been begging to be discussed for so long, and she had to take the only opportunity that had come up within the last 7 months to talk to Steve.
The wind was blowing its breeze through her hair as her steps were carrying her towards the tall standing tree at the top of a hill. Steve was walking beside her, his hands in his pockets, and he actually looked scared. He looked scared to say anything more than he already had. Her crossed arms squeezed around herself as she hugged herself in an attempt to get warm.
"I've tried to make it work, Steve, but it just doesn't," she said, shaking her head. Steve ripped his eyes from the grass in front of him flowing in the wind, and he looked at her with pursed lips. Needless to say, he was finally scared that she was serious.
"What do you mean it doesn't work?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at her in confusion, "we seem to be working to me. I take you to school whenever you go home at lunch, and I take a break. We see each other everyday of the week, Sam."
"That's the point, Steve. You see me. You also have a son who is only 5 months old, and you've seen him maybe twice," she sighed exasperatingly, "you'd think that maybe you could see him."
"What do you want me to do, Sam? I have a job. I work 60 hours a week to buy stuff – to provide for you and him," he said, angrily raising his voice.
"Don't even pull that crap, Steve. You haven't provided for us. You work 60 hours a week for you and your buddies to have enough weed and beer to last you a lifetime," she said, glaring at him. Her narrowed eyes pierced through him, but he didn't fight back his anger.
"It didn't bother you before now," he said back through clenched teeth. The expression his blood was boiling wasn't even close to how red his dark face was becoming.
"No, not until I owned the responsibility of another life it didn't," she countered. He recoiled, looking slightly taken aback. "It doesn't matter, Steve. He's more important now. I think," she squinted, her mouth fumbling with the words that she wanted to say, "I think that Alex is the only guy I have enough time in my life for. I think that he's the only person that I can make sure he has everything that he needs, for right now."
"I don't require much, Sammy," he said, shaking his head. His eyes were softening, his voice was softening, and his stance was softening. "I just want to see you, sweetie," he said gently, reaching over and resting his hand on her neck.
"You just don't understand, Steve. Whoever's in a relationship with me will have to be prepared to be in a relationship with Alex, too. I'm not sure that anybody's going to go for that, though. I mean, you're his father and you don't even want to see him," she shook her head, taking his hand from her neck and dropping it back down to his side.
"I do want to see him. I just don't have time to," he said, shaking his head. She sighed and looked down at the ground.
"I'm sorry, Steve, but if you have time for me you have time for Alex. It's now a package deal, Steve. Two for one, I thought you understood that," she said, shaking her head. Her eyes drifted back up to his, and the tears welling up were quickly fought back, "I know that it's hard for you to accept the responsibility for Alex, but he's worth it. You just can't see that."
"I don't think that you understand, Sammy. I own a part of you," he said.
"You can't recognize your responsibility when it's convenient. You're incapable of raising a child, Steve, you can barely take care of yourself," she laughed in the back of her throat. She walked towards the hill, in the direction of her house, but a few steps out she stopped and turned to him. "I do want to say thank you for giving me my son," she told him with a smile, and she walked down the hill.
She felt relieved, as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The air was lighter, and making her shiver even more. It was emotional, her life was too emotional for there to be a Steve Curtis in it. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her nylon, black, button up jacket, and stepped onto the sidewalk.
She was walking by the park where all of her friends were hanging out together. Some of them were on the courts, the sounds of a thick, rubber basketball echoing in the windy city. She looked at her feet with a proud smile as she walked passed, and was caught off guard when Abby and their other good friend, Susan, rushed up tugging on either side of her.
"Hey, Sam," Susan said, tugging on her elbow. They dragged her back to the benches beside the court, and forced her to sit. They didn't give her a chance to speak; they were both experiencing overflow of the mouth. "What are you doing?" Susan asked, linking her arm with Sam's.
"Oh, you know? I finally had that talk with Steve. I broke up with him. He just wasn't willing to except his responsibilities," she shrugged as though it was no big deal.
"You told him off?" Susan asked, her voice showing her curiosity.
"Yeah, I told him, and then I thanked him for Alex," she smiled, her lips pressing together in distant thought. Susan was one of the few people who knew the entire story. Sure, John and Abby had an idea, and Deb, Chuck, and Dave knew all that was needed to know, but Susan knew nearly every detail of what Sam's problems were. She was easily Sam's best friend.
"What did he do?" Susan asked. Sam laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced up from Susan and at the courts, to see Carter explaining something about basketball to her new tall, dark, Croatian friend with the ball tucked beneath his arm and the other hand flailing about.
"He tried to tell me that he worked too much to see Alex. But he has enough time to see me until Alex's name is attached, you know?" she smiled at Susan sympathetically. "It's just not fair to him," she sighed, shaking her head, "Alex deserves to be better than that. Am I being a bad mother for leaving his father?" she asked Susan, her eyes squinting with wonder.
"No. No way. You are not. You love him so much that you told Steve if he didn't want to see Alex he couldn't be with you anymore. I'm sure that you'd do that to any other guy. Steve shouldn't be treated any differently just because he's the kids sperm donor," Susan said, putting her hand on Sam's back and soothingly rubbing her hand across it.
"Would I?" she asked, their slightly glazed eyes locking with questions in them. They stared at each other, trying to ask the questions without ever speaking. Sam ripped her eyes from Susan's and pushed herself from the bench, her hands still in her pockets, "I'm going to go. Mark begged me to make him some of my homemade cookies, and I feel like I haven't seen Alex all day."
"You haven't," Susan laughed, uncrossing her legs and standing up too. "Go home to your guy, and make Mark your famous cookies," Susan said, lightly smacking Sam's upper arm.
"How can you be out here all day? It's so cold," she said, shivering slightly as her teeth chattered together. Susan laughed, patting Sam's arm sympathetically.
"We're out here everyday. You need to get out more," she rolled her eyes, "it really wouldn't hurt Alex to get some sun, you know?"
"I seem to be told otherwise. It disappoints me every time I want to take him to take a look at the water and my mom gets offended and tells me it's a school night," she laughed in the back of her throat, still not willing to give up her hopes for Alex, "if it weren't for me getting pregnant, my dad would still be laying around the house and annoying her."
"I remember that. Sam, when's your father going to get a job? When are you going to convince him that he's okay and he can go back to work?" Susan mimicked Sam's mother, "if you would have just told him that he should go back to work he would have. You didn't need to get pregnant."
"The thing that surprises me the most is that he still thinks the world of me," Sam laughed, shaking her head. "I've got to get home. My parents want to go out to dinner or something," she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder and in the direction of their house.
"All right. See you Monday," Susan smiled, and Sam smiled back. She turned around and slipped through the bars in the fence to get to the sidewalk. When she was a few steps from the first stoop of their block, she heard the fence shake vibrantly.
"Sam," Luka said breathlessly coming up behind her, "I've been needing some help in English." He took in a deep breath, and glanced over at her. She stopped, causing for him to halt too. "It's difficult for me to understand," he shrugged sheepishly.
"All right, yeah," she nodded her head. She really didn't know what to tell him. She couldn't help him before school; she didn't really want to leave Alex any earlier than she had too. She couldn't help him during lunch; she couldn't leave her mom to take care of Alex on her errand break. She couldn't help him after school, there was no time because she had to do homework, take care of Alex, and help Mark.
"You told me yesterday in class that if I needed help to just ask you," he pointed out. He turned to her, and shoved his hands in his pockets. She shifted her weight to the other foot, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, I know that I did. I don't really know when would be a good time. I have to make my little brother some cookies, and I think that I'm watching him tonight while my parents are going out to dinner. If you want to come over tonight so I can help you, I may be a bit distracted. He's only 10," she smiled apologetically.
"That's fine. I have 2 little brothers. They're 12 and 13. It really won't bother me," he said shaking his head. He pursed his lips together as he shrugged.
"Now, how come you never told me that?" she asked, playfully squinting her eyes.
"It just never came up," he shrugged. He lifted a hand from his pocket and dragged it through his hair.
"I'll see you around 6," she smiled, and he nodded immediately. She walked passed him and down the sidewalk to her house. He stared after her, and shook his head with a smile.
-----
Alex's cries started wailing throughout the house, and she was definite that the dog three houses down the street could hear him. She quickly shut the microwave door, and turned the heat on low. She rushed to Alex in his playpen, and she swept him into her arms.
Wrapping the one arm around his torso, she perched him at her hip as she hurried back into the kitchen. The timer started going off, and soon the timer on the microwave followed. She popped open the microwave and shoved a dashing hand into it, and snapped her hand back with a warm bottle clutched in her grasp.
She put the bottle in Alex's tiny hands, and she let him use her chest to help him hold it in his grasp. She pushed the button on the stove to turn the timer off, and she opened the oven. Grabbing the bottle from Alex, she set him down in the highchair, and she turned to take the cookies from the oven.
She shut the oven door, set the cookie sheet on the pad on the counter, and tossed the oven mitt onto the counter beside it. His quiet whimpers started again, and she picked him back up in her arms, holding him straddled against her hip. She picked up the bottle from the table, and perched the opening at his lips.
"Trying to do it yourself, buddy?" she asked upon his hands wrapping around the end of it. She made sure he was fed, and she washed the bottle once he was finished. He wasn't willing to be sat down in the playpen or to the floor; he was acting rather clingy.
"Are you okay, buddy? You're acting more clingy than usual," she said gently, smoothing her finger down the side of his face. His forehead dropped to the crook of her neck, and his heavy breaths seemed to regulate. "Mark, did you want one of those cookies?" Sam asked, walking down the hall to Mark's room.
"You made them already?" Mark asked, his head peeking out of his door. She nodded, and he took off down the hall. "I didn't think you'd make them so soon," he said, shaking his head. Sam followed him down the hall, and back into the kitchen.
"I was in the kitchen," she shrugged, "Did you need any help with your homework?" Mark's eyes momentarily left the stack of cookies and glared at her. His eyes soon rolled with a loud sigh accompanied to it.
"You helped me with it last night. Gah, Sam, you'd think you were my mom or something. When are you going to leave me alone?" he huffed. Mark was certainly in a bad mod. Her little brother was short with dirty blonde hair. He had deep chocolate eyes that she was almost willing to rip out.
"All right, shorty. Remember that you're eating my cookies," she said, shaking her head. The doorbell rang before she could say anything else, and she walked out of the kitchen t the front door, Alex still in her arms. He seemed to have fallen asleep, but when she peered at his face his eyes were open.
She opened the front door, and Luka was standing on the other side. He had his English book in his hand, and his other hand in his coat pocket. He raised his eyebrows upon seeing her, and smiled when he saw the baby in her arms.
"Hey, I was just getting started to think of dinner. Come on in," she said, taking a half step out of the doorway to make her offer official. She turned to go back into the kitchen, the phone starting to ring and Mark rushed to answer it. He asked no questions, just stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"Mark, this is my friend Luka," Sam said once Mar hung up the phone. When he saw Mark, Luka's eyes darted from the 10 year old to the baby, suddenly remembering that she had said that her little brother was 10. He started to nod his hand, reaching his hand out.
"Hey there," he said, his accent making Mark furrow is eyebrows. "We're going to do some English. Want to help me?" he asked, immediately kicking into his big brother mode.
"Umm, no. I'm going to go play games," Mark said, shaking his head. He had two things in his grasp when he walked off, a stack of cookies and a cold pop can. Luka shrugged watching Mark disappear, and that's when he noticed Sam looking at him with an amused arched eyebrow.
"Your little brothers don't give the cold shoulder too often?" she asked teasingly.
"Who's this?" Luka asked with curious excitement, breaking the silence and pointing at Alex in her arms. She smiled, and turned her head to Alex. Gently rubbing his head with her palm, she shifted him on her hip. Alex's hand trailed up to the other side of her neck and rested on her shoulder.
"This is Alex," she smiled, her gaze slowly shifting back to Luka when she could rip her eyes from Alex. Alex's breathing was falling into a rhythm, indicating that he w quickly falling asleep. Her mother told her that he had been cranky the moment that she left, and she noted that he had been clingy since the moment she got back.
"He's so little. I bet he's better at English than I am," Luka joked, leaning over to get a peek at the sleeping baby's face. He saw the eyelids closed, and he pushed his lips together in an apology. "Sorry," he added in a whisper.
"Don't worry about it. He likes noise. It assures him that he's not alone," she said, shaking her head. She looked at Alex again, and turned to the playpen, pressing her lips against Alex's temple. She laid him down, and covered him with the blanket. Turning the TV on, she turned her attention back to Luka. "You want to get started?"
He sat down on the couch, and her hands on her hips slowly left her figure as she moved to sit down beside him. He sat down on the middle cushion, and opened his English book to the page he was having trouble on. She sat down beside him on the side of the couch closest to Alex, and leaned her elbows forward on her thighs.
"I'm not getting the adjective thing," he said, running his fingertips over the words of the open page. "What is an adjective?" he asked, glancing at her with furrowed eyebrows. He turned his gaze back to the book, ignoring the words blaring from the TV.
"Okay," she sighed, pursing her lips together. "How would you describe me?" she asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He glanced at her and laughed uncomfortably while shaking his head.
"Umm, I don't know if," he trailed off, pushing his palms together and pursing his lips. She scooted closer to the edge of the cushion and searched his face for any other ideas. But she could think of none.
"Just try it," she said softly.
"Okay. You are," he gulped, "smart, amazing, beautiful, and otherwise indescribable." He gulped again, the lob that had formed in his throat sliding down his esophagus. Hitting his stomach, it became unsettled. She nodded her head with raised and approving eyebrows.
"Okay. Good. Do you understand predicate nominatives?" she asked, pushing her finger against the other section on the same page. He shook his head with pursed lips. "A predicate nominative is something that replaces a noun. Like, Alex is my son. My son is Alex," she said. He looked back at the open page, and paused, trying to gather something to say.
"Oh, I see. An adjective describes something, and a predicate nominative replaces a noun," he said, inhaling a deep breath. He didn't know how to react to the knowledge he'd just found out, so he ignored that he felt hurt. He did realize that she had a right to not tell him until it came up in conversation.