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chapter thirty seven
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under the weight of your wings
should ever we meet on your side of your stereo
i will pretend i know not of your thoughts
and even the way that they mirror my own
i'll take you away in the way
that you take me and go where i go
-Anna Nalick, "In My Head"
xx
8:30 am
The sun seeped through the curtains and across the bed that next morning, and Martin rubbed at his eyes with his free hand as he awoke. He smiled as he felt Sam nestled up against him, asleep with her head still resting on his shoulder. He breathed deeply and inhaled the welcoming scent of her shampoo before finally maneuvering his arm out from underneath her. She shifted in her sleep before settling back down into the pillows, and he leaned over the bed to tenderly brush her sleep-tousled hair out of her face.
He shuffled into the bathroom quietly, shutting the door behind him before he turned the shower on and stepped inside. As the warm water streamed over him, he wondered at all of the changes in his life over the past two years and, more importantly, in the last four and a half months. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he was sitting in his office that Thursday night, exasperated as he spoke on the phone with his father about Delia Rivers' memorial service. That night, the future seemed to span out before him as an endless cycle: work, general political schmoozing, and a social date here or there but nothing serious. But now his future took a more distinct shape every time he considered it, wide and bright and full of possibilities in a way that it had not been before. And though he knew there were numerous obstacles that they had yet to overcome, he also knew that he did not want to imagine the rest of his life without her in it. Maybe it was too fast and maybe it was completely crazy, but he had done enough casual dating in the last couple of years to know that this was not something he could easily give up.
He exited the shower and dressed quietly, not wanting to wake her. Back in the bedroom, he chuckled to himself as he noticed that she had shifted once again in his absence and was now lying amongst tangled linens in the very middle of the queen sized bed. The mattress dipped below him as he sat, resting his hand on her bare shoulder as he leaned forward to kiss her temple gently.
"Good morning, Sam," he whispered softly, running his thumb along her cheek before standing up straight beside the bed.
He was still smiling when he shut the bedroom door behind him.
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11:15 am
Sam pushed her hair behind her ears as she padded quickly down the carpeted hallway and towards the stairs. She had slept longer than she had planned on although, to be fair, last night had been a simultaneously exhilarating and exhausting evening.
She rounded the foot of the stairs, one hand still on the banister, and stopped momentarily to take in the scene she could just make out straight down the hallway and in the sunroom. Caroline, Rebecca, Jamie, and Allison sat together on the sofas, chatting animatedly amongst themselves, while Kelsey and Bridget played quietly on the floor beside them. It amazed her how close the entire family seemed to thrive on being together, their differences making them closer instead of tearing them apart.
It was Jamie who eventually noticed her, shifting baby Ava from one shoulder to the other as she motioned for Sam to come and join them.
"Morning, Samantha," Allison greeted, smiling. "We were wondering when we'd see you."
"Allison!" Rebecca said sharply. "Not another word out of you. Marty is my baby brother, and I was planning on keeping it that way. No more questions; Caro and I don't want to hear about it!"
Sam chewed on her lower lip and blushed furiously, giving Caroline a helpless look and fighting the urge to laugh along with the rest of them. Caroline smiled reassuringly and patted the sofa cushion beside her, motioning for Sam to sit down. "Ignore them," Caroline said. "They missed the etiquette class on how to play nice with guests."
Jamie held her free hand up and said firmly, "Anyway, as Ally was saying, we've been waiting for you."
Rebecca held her hands on her hips as she sat, explaining matter-of-factly, "We were beginning to think Martin would never bring a girl home to meet the family... We figure that if you like him enough to put up with meeting our parents, that must mean that you're crazy, or that you really like Martin."
Laughing, Sam replied, "I've already met both of your parents before."
"Oh, don't spoil our fun Samantha," Rebecca quipped. "We've been waiting for years to share embarrassing old family stories with the woman in Marty's life. Work with us here."
"I'm not arguing," Sam said, raising her eyebrows and leaning back into the sofa cushions, allowing herself to relax. She bit her bottom lip, fighting a smile and not wanting to admit how much she had been looking forward to hearing stories about Martin as a little boy.
Beside her, Caroline cracked a smile and said, "I've got one." All the women turned their attention to Caroline as she turned to Rebecca knowingly and continued, "Remember his fifth birthday party...?"
xx
It was a bright and sunny afternoon in mid June when the Tolands held Martin's fifth birthday party. His birthday was a week away, but Victor Fitzgerald's caseload being what it was, he was not expecting to get away from performance reviews at the office for long enough to make it up for the actual date.
Bonnie had done up the entire backyard, from the streamers and balloons on the porch to the slip-n-slide on the lawn. She had invited all of the friends Martin had made playing at the local park and the neighborhood pool, and had even made a special cake for the party: chocolate cake, decorated up like a baseball stadium.
The children all ran around, laughing and screaming happily in the backyard, and Victor had even thrown a football back and forth with Martin for a little while. Roger cooked hotdogs and hamburgers on the grill for lunch, and everyone ate happily together before it was time to open presents. They saved all of the big family gifts for later, but allowed him to open the smaller gifts from his friends.
The gifts unwrapped and proper thanks exchanged, Bonnie set the cake in front of Martin, who sat at the head of the long table outside on the porch. The cake was a true masterpiece, appearing professionally done instead of homemade, and Bonnie had placed a single candle in the white frosting of the bases at each corner of the diamond, putting the final candle in the center on the pitcher's mound. She patted her nephew's hair, still damp from the slip-n-slide, and kissed his temple as she said "Happy Birthday, Marty!"
And it was only then that Martin truly realized what was about to happen.
As his father pulled out a match and started to light the candles, he furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Don't sing!" he called out. "Stop! Don't sing!"
But his family and friends did not hear him, and started singing anyway.
Frowning, he took a deep breath and blew out the candles in the middle of the song. His small chest heaved and he put his hands decisively on his hips, standing up on his chair. "I said don't sing!" He insisted.
"Why not, Marty?" Eleven year old Caroline tilted her head inquisitively from the other end of the table, trying not to laugh.
"You can't sing yet!" He said indignantly, frustrated that no one else saw his logic. "It's not my real birthday."
He leaned over the table and dislodged each one of the candles, throwing them emphatically down on the table. And that was the end of that.
xx
"... he was so upset," Caroline finished, shaking her head as she laughed.
Rebecca shifted her weight and leaned forward, continuing, "We asked him every day that week if we could sing to him then, and every day he would say 'no.'" She paused, sharing a knowing look with her cousins. "Then his birthday came, and we didn't say anything about it. It took him five hours to break down, but he finally came to Aunt Bonnie with candles and told us it was okay for us to sing then." Rebecca paused, looking thoughtful for a few moments before adding, "That was right before Dad got promoted to AD, I think."
The expressions on Martin's sisters' faces became somber, and Caroline turned to look at Samantha as she explained, "Dad was around a lot more when we were little. But by the time Martin was born, he was SAC and on the fast track in the Bureau.
Silence fell in the room, weighted and impassive, before Allison finally commented off-handedly, "He's been a lot better since you had the girls, Caro."
At this, Bridget lifted her small body up from the floor and scampered over to her mother, tiny arms clutching at Caroline's legs. Caroline laughed and ruffled her young daughter's hair, lifting the toddler into her lap. "Yeah," she smiled. "He has." Bridget kissed her mother on the cheek, and Caroline tickled her, small giggles echoing around the room.
Sam could not tear her eyes away from mother and daughter as they interacted, feeling a gentle tug at her heart that she did not quite recognize. When Caroline looked up and smirked knowingly, Sam felt her cheeks flush.
"So, Samantha," Allison said, her smile wide as she clasped her hands together. "What do you want to know about Marty when he was younger?"
All eyes turned expectantly towards her as she chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. She finally raised an eyebrow suggestively and said, "Tell me about his first girlfriend..."
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3:50 pm
"Hey, Aunt Bonnie," Martin greeted his aunt as he opened the back door onto the deck. "Are you feeling better today?"
Bonnie closed the book she had been holding and turned her upper body, craning her neck as she smiled at her nephew. "Yeah, better. I'm still a little tired, but I guess that's what happens when you get old..."
Martin shook his head and smiled, taking the seat next to her. "You are far from old," he countered. "And don't go forgetting that anytime soon."
"Dually noted," she replied with a subdued laugh, still obviously not feeling quite herself but not wanting to say otherwise. After a beat, her tone changed and her smile became more genuine. "If you're looking for Samantha," she said, "She went off on a jog. Said something about needing to keep up with her physical therapy."
"Yeah, she's really done well with all of it." His expression was restrained and emotionless as he fought the image of Samantha the way she had looked as she was rolled into the emergency room after she had been shot.
Bonnie swept her hand reassuringly along Martin's forearm, quickly changing the subject. "So, how was the Country Club? You, Tim, and your father were there for a long time."
"It was fine," he said with a chuckle. "We ran into Congressman Kendrick, and Dad had to stop and say hello."
"Lovely," Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Although on the whole, my ridiculous brother has behaved himself rather well this weekend."
Martin worked his tongue in his cheek and said, "Don't let him hear you call him 'ridiculous' - no matter how true it is."
"I will call him as I see it," she said off-handedly. "It's my prerogative as his sister." She paused, giving him a pointed, serious look as she continued, "You know, Samantha must be pretty special if she's willing to put up with your parents just to spend the weekend with you."
He darted his eyes to the side quickly, almost nervously, not wanting to seem overly excited as he replied, "Yeah, she's pretty great."
"She is." Bonnie reached out, pulling his chin upward with her index finger and smiling brightly. "Just a word of advice, though. In the future, you may not want to leave her alone with your sisters for prolonged periods of time."
He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing, nothing." Bonnie said with a casual wave of her hands. "But when I came downstairs earlier, I heard them telling her about Kathleen Bannister."
It took a second before his aunt's words sunk in, and he ran his hand along his forehead and felt his cheeks go red.
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