Long overdue, I know...I hope there are a few folks out there waiting and still interested!

...

Chapter 7

"Why don't we sit out on the patio?" Sam suggests.

It's more neutral ground than inside, and she nods in agreement. "It's such a beautiful night out-" "-it's a great idea," Linda cuts her off. "I'll grab plates. Cassie, would you grab the silverware?"

Sam glances between them nervously, and she brushes her hand down his arm in reassurance. "Sure." She follows Linda into the kitchen heading towards the drawer Sam keeps his cutlery while Linda gathers plates and glasses.

"I'm so glad you dropped by with that salad, Cassie," Linda comments. "I've been meaning to drop by and meet you."

"The feeling's mutual; Nick and Sam have told me so much about you."

Linda turns to face her. "Funny how they haven't mentioned a thing about you...and please, don't stand there and pretend like it was all good."

She ignores the jab. "Why would you assume it was anything but?"

Linda scoffs. "Because I know Sam...I'm starting to wonder if you do at all."

Cassie understands the challenge in her words and as easy as it would be to divulge just how well she actually does know Sam, she doesn't. "Perhaps not as well as you do, Linda."

Linda smiles in satisfaction.

Sam joins them in the kitchen, rooting in the cupboard for a serving tray. "...everything ok in here?"

"Everything's fine," Linda answers, heading back out to the patio.

...

Sam can feel the tension between Linda and Cassie as he helps set the table. Linda settles into her seat, Cassie choosing to sit opposite her. There's an empty chair on either side of them and he hesitates a minute before deciding to sit at the head of the table between them.

"This all looks really great," Cassie comments.

"Given Sam's terrible culinary skills, that's saying something," Linda jokes. "Remember that time in that tiny New York apartment after we first got married, you set the fire alarms off?"

He tucks himself into the table, folding his napkin in his lap. "Those fire alarms were sensitive."

Linda laughs, shaking her head. "So you always claimed."

Cassie passes him the salad, and he's waiting for her to launch into the very similar story of her walking into his kitchen full of smoke, only it doesn't come.

"I miss the vibrancy of New York," Cassie muses. "How close everything was and felt."

Linda gives her a confused look. "That's one way to put it I guess...so you lived in New York?"

Cassie nods. "I was there for a few years while I did a few semesters at school."

"I didn't know you went to school in New York?" He comments.

Cassie nods again. "I went to Cornell for a semester and then transferred to Columbia."

Linda clears her throat, sipping her wine.

"...Neither were a great fit so I left to explore the world."

Sam gives her a half smile. "I've heard that about those Ivy League schools," he jokes. "Just terrible."

Cassie laughs, sipping her glass of water.

"Is that how you came to associate with criminals? Exploring the world?" Linda asks bluntly.

Sam chokes on a piece of steak, coughing violently. Cassie seems concerned while Linda continues to eat.

Cassie pushes away from the table, ready to rise from her chair. "Are you alright?" He nods, taking a rather large sip of his own water. "I'm fine...Linda-"

"-I'm not sure I know what you mean," Cassie answers, cutting him off.

"We can cut right to the chase, can't we?" Linda continues to question. "Jackson Weld terrorized this town and was a direct threat to my son-"

"-Nick was safe-" Sam reasons.

"-no thanks to you!" Linda cuts him off. "Clearly you've been more concerned about your love life than your own son's safety!"

Sam is poised to argue back, only Cassie places a hand on his forearm, silencing him. "I have no recollection of what happened with Jackson Weld. I went into severe anaphylaxis, which has caused memory loss."

Linda rolls her eyes. "How convenient."

Cassie ignores her. "What I do know is that Sam would never put his son in harms way. There isn't anything he wouldn't do to protect him, including distancing himself from me."

Linda squirms in her seat.

"We were very fortunate that Weld was apprehended when he was, and that no-one else was physically hurt...as a mother myself, I can empathize with your worry and frustration, Linda: being so far from Nick during such an ordeal must have been difficult."

"It was," Linda agrees reluctantly. "You surely can appreciate then my hesitancy in your relationship with Sam, and what that means for Nick."

"And what exactly is that, Linda?" Sam questions pointedly.

Linda's gaze turns to him. "Frankly, that he's not safe here."

Sam scoffs, pushing his plate away. "You're joking-"

"-I assure you I'm not," Linda cuts in. "You invited danger around Nick when you had Cassie and her daughter living here-"

"-Cassie and Grace stayed here for their safety!-"

"-and what about Nick's safety?"

Cassie reaches for Sam's hand, squeezing, before he can fire back with something he'll regret. "We can't change what happened, Linda. We can only control now what happens next. What can Sam and I do so that you feel Nick is safe here?"

Linda glances at their joined hands, irritation flashing quickly across face. "I'd prefer you weren't around my son," she answers flatly. "Sam can make his own decisions about who associates with, I however will draw the line when it affects my son and his safety." She leans back into her chair. "I've spoken with my lawyer, and we've discussed revisiting our custody agreement."

Sam laughs bitterly, shaking his head. "And there it is, the real reason you're here. Let me guess: you're revisiting sole custody?"

"We are," Linda confirms. "I didn't fight with you back then because Nick was so young and it was clear you wouldn't see reason-"

"-See reason?!" Sam echos. "You wanted to move him to Tokyo!"

Linda rolls her eyes, rising from the table. "I'm not rehashing this. Nick's older, it's clear you want to do your own thing-"

Sam pushes away from the table abruptly, getting to his feet. "-You're not going to put your own spin on this-"

"-There's no spin, Sam!" Linda's voice has raised, her hands on her hips. "It's facts! Last I checked I was still his mother and have every right question your parenting!"

Cassie rises from her own chair, taking Sam's hand that's balled into a fist at his side. She can't coax her fingers through his so she settles on holding it in between her own hands. "I think we should end this conversation now."

Swiping her phone from the table, Linda drops her napkin on her plate. "One thing we can agree on." She glances at her phone, turning it around to show them the time. "Nick was supposed to be home 45 minutes ago...in case you were worried." She excuses herself from the table, heading inside.

He immediately fishes his own phone out of his pocket and Cassie takes it from his hand before he has the chance to dial Nick's number.

"What are you doing?" He questions. "I need to call Nick."

Sliding it into her back pocket, she shakes her head. "So you can jump to conclusions and take your anger out him for being late?" She watches as his shoulders relax a fraction. "Just take a minute."

He exhales, rubbing his forehead. "...if I take a minute, I'm going to flip this table, Cassie."

To say that his response has surprised her would be an understatement. For as long as she's known him, he's been nothing if not patient, gentle. "How can I help?"

"What do you hear?" He questions.

She automatically recognizes the grounding exercise he's referring to. "I hear the crickets and the trees rustling in the wind. What do you smell?"

He inhales deeply, closing his eyes. "The barbecue...the dampness in the grass. Your perfume."

She manages to coax his hand open, and weaves her fingers with hers. "What do you feel?"

"The ground...the breeze in the air...your hand in mine."

She nods, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Inhale so deeply that it reaches your hand in mine," she instructs softly. He does as she says several times, and she waits quietly. When his eyes finally open, she holds his gaze surely. "What do you see?"

"Just you."

The weight of his words catches her off guard and she adverts his gaze. Reaching for his phone in her back pocket, she holds it out to him. His hand holds hers for beat too long before he takes the phone from her. As he checks his messages, she takes a minute to gather herself from the surge of electricity that's materialized between them.

"He sent me a text: he's on his way."

"That's good."

He nods. "Thank you."

He's physically calmer, but the magnitude of what Linda has just announced is in his eyes. Sliding her hands up his chest, she cups his face. "You are an amazing father, Sam. Any court will see that."

He nods, and she pulls him into her arms.

...

Nick pulls into the garage, parking his dad's car. As he heads into the house through the garage door, he prepares himself for the onslaught he knows all too well. As expected, his mother is waiting for him, arms crossed in the living room. His dad is sitting on the stairs behind her.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Linda questions.

"I lost track of time-" he begins to defend, only his mother cuts him off.

"-Where have I heard that excuse before!"

He rolls his eyes, looking at the wall beside her.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, young man! It's almost midnight! How do I even know you were at Josh's?"

"You could maybe trust me," he answers sarcastically.

"But I don't trust you, Nick," Linda answers bluntly.

He can feel the heat rise up his neck, into his face.

"You haven't given me any reason to trust you, present stunt included."

He can feel the tears brim his eyes, and he swipes at his eyes quickly. "Just ground me already." "Oh, you're grounded alright! And I'm taking your phone!"

His phone had died well before he had gotten home, having just enough power to text his dad he was on his way. Fishing it out his pocket, he places it in his mothers outstretched hand.

"Get upstairs and into bed," she instructs. "Don't think for a minute you're missing school tomorrow."

Without a word, he heads for the stairs. He can't make eye contact with his dad, who rises to his feet, letting him pass. His mother is yelling at his dad about something, but he tunes her out. The tears brim his eyes and as he takes the stairs two at time, he's aware of his dad's steps following behind him.

He doesn't stop or turn to face him, heading for his room. He swings the door open and doesn't bother slamming it behind him, his dad catching it right after him. He can feel his hands curl into fists, the scream that's clawing at his throat.

"Nick," his father says gently.

He turns to face him slowly, his head hung. His dad's there, pulling him into his arms and he let's his head connect with his chest as the hot tears finally spill over.

His dad's hands hold the back of his neck, his mouth pressing to the crown of his head. "I need you to listen to me," he says softly. "Are you listening?"

He nods.

"I'm soproudof you."

He moves into his dad's arm, clinging to him tightly.

"I loved that kid from New York, and I love the kid in front of me right now.Itrust you." The confession tumbles out his mouth. "I wasn't at Josh's, Dad."

His father pulls him back, holding his gaze. " I know. We can talk about it in the morning." He nods, wiping at his eyes. "...I'm sorry."

His Dad squeezes his shoulder. "I know you are...it's late. We'll talk more in the morning."

TBC

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