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chapter thirty-eight
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angels, smiling on my happiness
danger, 'cause this scene is still a mess
(we can all be blessed)
don't stop just yet
we've got the world looking in
our window
-Morcheba, "World Looking In"
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September 1, 2003
New York City
10:00 pm
The lid of the washing machine closed with a loud thud, and Sam took a step back to study it intently before turning the dials to the proper setting and releasing the 'start' button. The machine whirred to life as she walked back down the hall and to the elevator, depressing the call button with her index finger and tapping her right foot nervously as she waited for the car to descend to the basement level.
As the elevator doors slid open in front of her, she offered a casual greeting to the nameless neighbor departing the car whom she recognized but did not know personally. Just as the doors shut behind her, she swore that the neighbor, a woman of about fifty, turned around to give her a second glance, but she pushed the eerie feeling to one side and pushed the button for her floor, anxious to get back to her apartment and to Martin.
They had been back from Martha's Vineyard for less than half an hour, and already Sam found herself missing the quiet sanctuary of Martin's family's vacation home by the beach. To be honest, she also found herself missing Martin's family. They had been extremely welcoming, making certain that she felt like she fit in from the moment she arrived. When she had first met Martin, she wondered how he could be so open and caring and genuine given the impression she had always held of his father, but after spending time with the entire family, she saw first hand how he came about his warm disposition.
Opening the door of her apartment and stepping back inside, she found Martin sitting on her sofa watching the bottom line tick by on ESPN, coffee in one hand and a stack of files from his briefcase in the other. "Hey," he said, looking up and patting the seat next to him. "You get your laundry in?"
"Yeah," she replied, walking over and sinking down into the sofa cushions. She ran a free hand through her hair and leaned back in exhaustion.
"Sam," he started, his voice trailing off as he ran his hand along the side of her face. "Are you alright? Worried about tomorrow?"
"I'm trying not to think about it." She sighed and shrugged helplessly, leaning in to rest her head against his shoulder.
"That might be best." He kissed her temple and took a gentle hold on both of her hands, waiting until she met his gaze before continuing. "You don't need to worry though; it's going to be fine."
Sam smiled weakly and joked, "That's easy for you to say, you don't have to deal with Danny all day tomorrow."
He laughed and kissed her knuckles. "True, but I do have to have lunch with the entire city school board. I would rather deal with Danny; at least you have Naomi on your side."
"Viv, too," she dropped her hand and patted his thigh. He gave her a questioning look and she explained with a playful grin, "Viv knows everything. Trust me, she knew long before you showed up at the Bureau last Friday."
"See?" He gestured his hands as though the motions would further emphasize his point. "You're much luckier than I am."
She raised her eyebrows and laughed quietly, feeling more comfortable by the second as they sat and play-argued together. She giggled has he ran his hands along her sides, tickling her, and she leaned back on the sofa, taking him with her as they began to kiss fervently. He trailed kisses along her jaw and then began to nip and suck on her neck, and she ran her hands through his hair as she murmured, "I had a really great time this weekend."
Martin tilted his neck upward to signal his attention, and he gazed at her with tender affection that both soothed and frightened her. "I'm glad you did," he replied as he traced indistinct patterns along her shoulder.
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Your sisters are pretty great."
Martin chuckled. "You only like them because they were more than willing to give you dirt on me."
"I'm offended," Sam flicked her wrists and scoffed jokingly. "But they did share some pretty great stories. Your aunt and your cousins even offered to show me pictures if I come over for dinner one Friday night."
"Oh, great," Martin jokingly rolled his eyes, gesturing in mock frustration with one hand. "Just what I need: the other women in my life to gang up against me."
Sam wriggled out from underneath him and scooted until her back hit the armrest of the sofa. She cocked her eyebrows and said, "By the 'other women in your life,' you'd better only be talking about blood relatives, mister." She tilted her head and smiled, her eyes sparkling as she dared him to reply.
Martin sat up and could only laugh at her ridiculous jest. "I am not going to dignify that with a response," he replied in kind, gently grabbing hold of both of her wrists as he leaned forward to kiss her again. She relaxed into his arms, and he said, more serious this time, "I would hope you know that you are the only woman in my life." He paused for a beat, seemingly contemplating something, and added, "at least, the only one I would trust alone in a room with my sisters."
She laughed and touched his face, knowing that Martin was trustworthy and the idea of him being with any other woman was absurd. In moments like these, she realized just how unique men like Martin were and, moreover, how much she relished their time together. It seemed as though the times when they were together flew by faster and faster, while the days and weeks apart stretched out interminably, feeling much longer and far more empty. It was a rare enough occurrence for her to still be in a relationship at almost five months, let alone still be actively invested in it. Even when she had been with Jack, she had not noticed any specific dates or milestones, and by the time they approximated four and then five months, he had withdrawn from her as he readied himself to go back to his wife and daughters and try to make it work.
It was the first time in her life she had been with someone who considered their relationship a top priority, and now she was not sure she could ever go back and do it differently.
"What's on your mind?" Martin pulled her hands into his lap, tilting his had to one side with interest.
She bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, smiling as he watched her intently with his clear blue eyes. Her expression grew mischievous and she grinned slyly. "Tell me about Kathleen Bannister," she quipped, having held his sisters' stories in long enough.
Martin began to stutter in response, his cheeks flushed, and he wiped his hands nervously against the legs of his slacks. She giggled at his obvious embarrassment, feeling a small thrill run through her body at the idea that she could fluster him like this, that she knew yet another side of him that the general public was not privy to.
"Come on," she urged, kissing his cheek as she whispered in his ear. "I heard a little from Caroline and Rebecca, but I want to hear it from you."
"I am going to kill both of them," he muttered in his best younger brother voice. Turning to her, he gestured uncertainly with his hands as he began to relay the story. "At the end of eighth grade, there was a formal dance that was a huge deal. Both of my sisters had gone with their boyfriends at the time, but I never really noticed girls then." He paused, flashing a dimpled grin before remarking, "I was more interested in tossing a football in the backyard, or figuring out a better grip for my curveball."
"Figures," Sam uttered teasingly, lacing her fingers in his to still them as she scooted closer to where he sat.
"Are you going to let me tell this story or not?" He threatened playfully.
She held up her hands in mock defeat. "Go right ahead. I'm not stopping you," she teased.
"Anyway," he feigned indignation and settled back down. "I wasn't particularly interested in going, but I knew that my parents expected me to go because everyone else was. The only problem was that a little over a week beforehand, I still didn't have anyone to go with."
"Was there someone you wanted to ask?" She laughed, meeting his gaze to signal her continued attention.
He shook his head, returning her laugh easily. "No. Like I said, I was more preoccupied with sports practice and debate team..." He paused to roll his eyes. "Debate was my mother's idea; my parents both always knew they wanted me to go into politics." She patted his thigh reassuringly, and he continued. "Anyway that Friday afternoon, a week before the dance, Kathleen came up to me and asked me if I would go with her. She was nice, the only girl on the debate team, and I agreed. The next thing I knew, she leaned up and kissed me -- which would have been awkward enough without the fact that the entire eighth grade was watching."
Martin pulled back, watching her intently as though to gauge her reaction, and she smiled in her amusement. She traced a line along the side of his face and said, still laughing, "That's cute."
"I'm glad you're enjoying this laugh at my expense," he quipped. "It's a good thing you're beautiful."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she replied in kind, enjoying their comfortable banter. She raised her eyebrows. "Alright, flirt. I know that look. Spill."
"Well," he said matter-of-factly, brushing some loose hair from her face. "Tell me about one of your old boyfriends."
She watched him intently as he seemed to shy away from her after his suggestion, seemingly nervous that he had pushed her too far. She ran one of her hands along his arms, simply needing the physical contact as much as he did. She exhaled heavily and shut her eyes to calm herself, knowing that she could trust him but not particularly wanting to dredge up memories of her past. She considered sharing any generic story of high school love gone awry, but there was something that had been eating at the back of her mind for the past few weeks and she had become inexplicably aware of the fact that she felt she should share this part of her past with Martin.
"I was married once," she admitted with a sigh, unwilling to look at him until he brushed his hand on her cheek, forcing her eyes to meet his. She was not sure what she expected to see when she looked at him, but his expression was soft and concern etched in his eyebrows. He was obviously startled, but did not appear angry or distressed. She breathed deeply once again and continued, "When I was eighteen. Maybe more because my mom was so dead set against it than anything else. I moved out just four months later, and that was it."
She finally looked up at Martin as she finished her explanation, holding her breath as she waits for him to respond. Linking their hands together, Martin pulled her closer to him and softly said, "Thank you for sharing that with me."
She shifted her weight and, before she realized what she was saying, continued, "It all seemed so romantic at first, you know? But I wanted to get away from home so badly that I solved one problem, but created another. Turns out there's a lot more to being married than you originally think when you're young and stupid."
Martin remained silent for a few moments, and then replied. "I'm hoping that your brief experience with marriage all those years ago didn't leave you completely soured on it in general..." his tone was light and upbeat, but she could read both fear and uncertainty flickering in his clear blue eyes, "Because sometime in the future, I was hoping it would be something that we would consider."
She met his eyes and ran one hand through her hair, wanting to answer him as honestly as possible. "I never really thought much about it after I left Kevin; I've never even dated anyone for longer than five months." She paused and inhaled deeply, her heart racing wildly in her chest, and softly finished, "but when I think about my future now, I find it hard to imagine you not in it."
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