Sorry for the long wait everyone. The past semester had been hectic. Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. This will be the last chapter. I am still debating in adding an epilogue, since I wanted to leave this open ended. Suggestions are welcome.
Part Two
Sam had no idea where she was going, no idea at all. She walked down the street in a fit of anger. She needed to go shopping, or something. She looked down and saw that she was wearing sweats and slippers. The Seattle air was cold, but it didn't look like it was going to rain. It was March already. She quickened her pace to calm herself down. If she remembered correctly, there was a boutique several blocks down that she and Carly frequented when they needed retail therapy after a bad day.
Carly sniffled as she placed the plates under the sink to wash them. Why had she yelled? It wasn't as if Sam was lying in saying that Freddie's mom was insane.
"Carls," Freddie knocked on the door, and opened it, sticking his head in through the doorway.
"Come in," Carly wiped her eyes.
"Hey, ready to…what happened?" he asked as she saw her stifling her tears.
"Sam and I got in a fight, a stupid fight," she said sadly.
"Come here," Freddie spread out his arms. Carly fell into them and he wrapped them around her waist. She cried on his shoulder once more. "You know it'll blow over."
"I know, but it's so close to the wedding," she sobbed. As if she wasn't stressed enough already, now her best friend hated her.
"You're marrying me, not her, remember?" Freddie joked to lighten the situation.
"Freddie," Carly grinned, kissing him lightly on the lips.
"What was that for?"
"Do I need a reason?" Carly asked.
"No, no, carry on," Freddie grinned. The two kissed briefly until Carly broke away.
"Don't we have to meet with the florist and caterers?"
"It can wait," Freddie leaned down to kiss her, as he now towered over her by a good four inches.
Spencer groaned inwardly at his art class. They were outside to try out impressionist art. Very few of them had grasped the concept of individual thinking. Instead, they preferred such art as "Picasso by the number", recreating works of art that were done by free thinkers. This generation annoyed him greatly, young and his age alike. It was as if no one was able to think on their own anymore. He snorted when he thought of how he sounded like a grouchy old man. Next thing you know, he'll be yelling at kids to "get off of his damn lawn".
He walked around watching the students draw, "Remember, capture those fleeting moments. Try not to focus so much on getting everything in there all crammed up. Use the lighting and your skills to your advantage. Don't try to paint what's there exactly how you're supposed to see it, but how you do see it."
"Mr. Shay," called over a girl of about eighteen. Spencer walked over.
"How's this?" she asked, showing him what she had painted of the courtyard.
Spencer smiled, "Exactly what I'm talking about. Good work."
He walked off and stopped by one of his other students, "This isn't the courtyard."
"You never specified," the boy said, still painting the students that were scattered about. The most prominent figure was the girl Spencer had just spoken to. He had a feeling that this boy would do well with Rococo.
Spencer grinned, he understood. Suddenly, the rain began to fall. Stupid Seattle and its nonstop rain.
"Gather up your things people," Spencer said and led the way back inside.
Sam sat down at a table in a nearby cafe. It wasn't Starbucks, she loathed Starbucks. The coffee was overpriced and it drove out small businesses.
She sighed as she looked at her cup of tea. She had given up walking around aimlessly when it started to rain. When had she turned into such a witch? Did the Witch queen takeover her body? She sighed since she knew that she had always been mean. It was in her nature. Her dad had wanted a boy, so Sam had been tough as nails to please him, hence the nickname "Sam". After the divorce, Sam's mother refused to call her anything but Samantha. Apparently, she was a young lady and should act like one.
She silently cursed her parents for raising her to be so confused. Her mom had always taught her to be weary of men, because they would always hurt you in the long run. Sam believed her out of fear and contempt for boys in general. She had just noticed that shewas the one breaking hearts and laughing along the way. She didn't know how to be girly, feminine and all that jazz. She was raised to be skeptical and mean, and it was probably too late to change now.
The bell above the door chimed as someone stepped in. Sam looked up and saw Spencer.
"Hey," he said, sitting, shrugging off his dark jacket.
"What are you doing here?" she asked monotonously. He didn't even ask to sit, the nerve.
"I could ask you the same," he bit back, folding his arms across his chest, looking at the woman in front of him.
"Carly and I got into a fight, a stupid fight," she told him, taking a sip of her tea.
"I see," Spencer nodded, tilting his head sideways, "how'd you get all the way here?"
"I wanted to go to this store Carly and I used to go to, but it was shut down so I came in here," Sam rambled somewhat incoherently.
"You mean Iguana?" Spencer smirked remembering how the two made him drive them downtown every weekend.
"Yeah, nice store…" she trailed, finally looking at him, "you never answered my question."
"I have a break before the next class. It was cut short on account of, well," Spencer gestured to the window. Outside, rain fell as if it had never rained before.
Sam nodded, glad that they had found a sort of rhythm, it no longer felt so awkward.
"C'mon, let's go home," Spencer said with a small smile.
Home, the Shay apartment had been more of a home to Sam much more than her broken home.
"Thanks for the lift," Sam said as she got out of the car.
"No problem," Spencer nodded and drove away.
Sam pressed the intercom button.
"Who is it?" Carly's voice flowed through the intercom.
"It's Sam, can I come in?" she asked hesitantly.
The glass door swung open and Sam walked in. She took a deep breath as she stepped into the elevator.
She walked into the apartment to see Carly and Freddie pouring over seating arrangements.
"Hard at work?" she asked with a weak smile in hopes of blowing things over.
Carly nodded as Freddie shook his head.
"I'm missing work for this," he complained. He really didn't mind, though. It meant he could spend more time with Carly.
"I'm sure Bill doesn't mind," Carly joked.
"Can you tell him to make a new software program?" Sam asked with a grimace. She hadn't believed Freddie when he told her he got a job with Bill Gates. Not really with Gates, as in he got to talk to him, but as in he worked with an electronics company, Pear, that had merged with Apple nearly five years ago. It was now called Papple.
"Very funny you two," he stood and left, "I gotta go see mom."
He pecked Carly on the lips and she muttered something about telling her 'hi'. He waved to Sam and left his two friends alone.
"So," Sam said.
"So," Carly repeated.
"Can we stop, the whole repetition thing got us in a fight in the first place," Sam grimaced yet again.
"Fight over?" Carly asked.
"Fight over," Sam smiled, "I am so sorry," she hugged the taller woman.
"I shouldn't have said anything mean."
"I'm the mean one," Sam snorted.
"Want to see your dress?" Carly asked, referring to the bridesmaid dresses.
"It's not pink is it?" Sam pulled back, making a face at the thought.
Carly giggled, "It's good to have you back."
The rehearsal in all honesty, was a bore. Freddie kept tripping up his vows and Carly kept laughing. Mrs. Benson kept crying even though it wasn't the real wedding. Spencer kept fidgeting and Mr. Shay kept shushing him. Mrs. Shay just shushed Mr. Shay, and Spencer glared at his parents and snuck glances at Sam. Sam glared at the bridesmaid that was giving Spencer flirty looks, a girl she's known since high school. Freddie's cousin, Eddie, was more of a nerd than Freddie could ever hope to aspire to. At least Freddie was a cool nerd…
After the rehearsal, there was a dinner at the Benson's for family only, plus Sam. Mrs. Shay and Mrs. Benson got along well enough. However, Mrs. Benson did not trust Mr. Shay. The dinner table was cramped and crowded. Everyone was talking amicably. The entire bridal party was at one table, and it was annoying.
"Fredward dear, you have dressing on your lip," Mrs. Benson took a napkin to wipe it off, but Freddie beat her to the punch, furiously wiping it off himself.
"Mother, I am a grown man, I can clean my own face," he huffed and took a sip of his wine.
Mrs. Benson stiffened a little and shot and accusatory glare at Carly. "You're the reason he had to grow up."
"Now, now, they are grown now, we really shouldn't be interfering," Mr. Shay said, trying to calm the tension.
"The one we should be interfering with is Spencer," Mrs. Shay muttered.
"What was that, mom?" he asked looking up from his plate.
"Well, son, you've never had a stable girlfriend…what I mean to say is…you know what, never mind, I'm a little tipsy," she rambled and caught the withering stare her husband was giving her.
Spencer sat across from Sam, glancing at her ever so often. Eddie had been seated next to Sam, who looked as if she were about to beat him up.
"So, Sam, I heard you were single. I was wondering if you wanted to, I dunno, leave?" he whispered with a raised brow in an attempt to look handsome. His greasy hair flopped over his eyes and his shirt was stained.
"No," she replied shortly, casting glances to Spencer. Eddie had been flirting with her the entire evening. In no way shape or form did she want to be Mrs. Eddie Benson.
"Help me," she mouthed.
He shook his head with a slight grin. He stood to get away from the noise and gestured for Sam to follow. Mrs. Shay stared her son down, and soon realized that he would not be alone.
Sam nodded hesitantly and waited for Spencer to be gone a few moments. Carly shot her an appraising look and a definitive nod, as if she had been waiting for the two to leave.
Sam left the apartment and saw Spencer in the hall leaning against the wall.
"Want to blow this pop stand?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Sam nodded and followed him downstairs quietly, thanking her lucky stars that she was away from Eddie.
"Where are we going?" she asked as Spencer pushed open the door to exit the building.
"I thought a walk might be nice," he said as the two strolled down the damp sidewalk due to the constant rain.
The walked side by side in silence, it wasn't an awkward silence, it was comfortable.
"Spencer, what are we?" Sam asked, wringing her hands together, "are we friends? I mean, are we friends like Carly and I are friends or what?" she asked, stepping over a puddle that had formed, chiding herself for not taking her jacket. She crossed her arms over her chest, the green fabric of the sweater wrinkling.
Spencer took off his jacket and placed it over Sam's shoulders. She smiled in thanks, still waiting for an answer. Spencer played with the end of his button down shirt, averting his eyes.
"I don't think we've ever been friends how you and Carly are friends," Spencer spoke as his eyes softened. He looked at the petite girl next to him.
"I-I don't understand," Sam sputtered, confused yet again. Was he saying what she thought he was?
"Sam, I… I… I like your shoes," Spencer blurted out, mentally slapping himself.
"Erm, thanks, Spence," she frowned. Spill already. Maybe he doesn't like me after all.
"No, I don't like your shoes. I mean, they're nice shoes and all…" Spencer rambled like a teenage boy.
"Spit it out already before I grow a beard," Sam snapped. Patience was never a virtue that she possessed.
"I love you," he said, looking into her eyes. Sam stopped walking and held onto his arms as they faced each other. She tiptoed and brushed her lips with his briefly. She pulled back with wide eyes, and ran.
She ran as fast as her two inch heels could let her, that is. She always hated heels, and this was the worst moment she could be wearing them. She was so focused on getting as far away from Spencer as she could that she missed the crack in the sidewalk.
Spencer ran after her, not caring if he made a fool out of himself. He was right near her as she fell, cursing the crack and her shoes loudly.
"Sam," Spencer called out as he reached out his arms, as if in slow motion. No way was he going to let Sam get hurt because he was an idiot. He caught her by the waist and steadied her. She looked up at him, relieved and terrified at the same time.
"Thanks," she mumbled, standing up and smoothing out her knee length skirt. Spencer nodded, adjusting the collar of his oxford shirt.
"Sam, what was that?" he asked her nervously, eye twitching.
"What do you want it to be?" she asked him, quiet and threatening at the same time. The two ignored the people bustling down the street and cars whizzing past.
Spencer gazed into her eyes. His mouth was dry and voice was caught in his throat. His feelings were cheesy, he knew, but there was nothing wrong with cheese unless you were lactose intolerant.
"See, you have no answer," Sam sighed, running a hand through her blonde locks as the anger boiled inside of her. She had put herself on the line, and she was rejected, yet again.
He mustered up his courage and took her hands, "I want…I want us to be together."
Sam's stoic appearance left her features as she broke out into a grin. It was a small, brief grin, but a grin none the less. Spencer smiled down at her, eyes hopeful.
"Are you sure?" Sam asked.
"Positive," he nodded decisively let go of her hands, instead opting for her waist as they shared their third kiss in the past few years.
It felt as though they were on a cloud. Sam smiled inwardly and wrapped her arms about Spencer's neck.
"I take this as a 'yes'?" Spencer joked.
"Yes," she smirked, kissing him once more.
"It's pink," Sam squirmed. Carly sat next to her making an apologetic face.
"Is it that bad?" she asked her friend, grimacing at the sight before them.
Sam just stared ahead, not comprehending what was going on.
"I thought you said the dress wasn't pink!" Sam cried in the dressing room at the church. She had been staring at the monstrosity of a bride's maid's dress for five minutes. It was long, slightly puffy, and had tulle. Good grief, the tulle. It looked as if Carly had stolen Molly Ringwald's dress from Pretty in Pink, but this one wasn't so pretty.
"I never said it wasn't pink," Carly defended herself, "I just never answered the question directly."
"Well, it's too late to change it now, isn't it?" Sam asked.
"Not necessarily, the wedding doesn't start for two hours. We could go get you another one," Carly suggested. "It looked purple before," she tried to defend herself, knowing fully well that it was pink, intentionally so.
"Carls, it's your wedding day. It's all about you, not me. Everything is all about you," Sam told her best friend reassuringly. If she had to wear a '80s knockoff, so be it.
"Oh, Sam," Carly hugged her.
"Maid of honor needs to breathe," Sam choked out.
"Sorry," Carly blushed.
"You don't have to apologize, it's your day."
A knock came at the door.
"Carly," Freddie's voice called through.
"Get away, you aren't supposed to see her yet," Sam yelled.
"Sam, you in there too?" he asked.
"No, it's Hannah freaking Montana," she rolled her eyes.
"Fine, I won't be giving you any cake then," he threatened.
"Hey, Freddie, do you want a black eye on your wedding day?" Sam yelled through the door.
"Not really, please refrain from injuring me," he said, still trying to open the door.
"Freddie, leave now or forever hold your peace," Sam had the last of it.
"Sam, it's okay, let him in, I'm not dressed yet anyways," she gestured to her jeans and sweater.
"But, it's bad luck," Sam stumbled.
"Since when do you believe in superstitions?" Carly questioned, unlocking the door to let Freddie in.
"Ten minutes is all I'm giving you," Sam pointed her index finger at the pair before leaving them.
"She's so stubborn," Freddie complained.
"She's only trying to fulfill her maid of honor-ly duties," Carly defended with a smirk.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked her future husband.
"Are you having second thoughts?" Freddie asked her, not daring to look at her.
"No, are you?" she asked, suddenly very worried.
"No, no, I just had a dream where you pulled a runaway bride and left me," he stated with a blush.
"I would never do that to you, you know me better than that," she rubbed his back.
"Want to hear a confession? I threw up this morning, twice. I'm so nervous, Carls. What if I'm not a good husband? What if we end up hating each other? What if I'm not going to be a good father?" he whispered.
"Or, what if you're going to be a doting husband, an amazing father, and we're going to love each other forever?" Carly asked him with a smile.
"No turning back now. We're in this together, forever," Freddie stated firmly.
"Forever," Carly kissed him lightly.
"Okay, that's enough you two. Your ten minutes are up," Sam barged through the door, her hair slightly messy, messier than before. She looked disheveled in all honesty.
"What happened to you?" Freddie asked.
"I tripped and knocked into an alter boy and ended up knocking over a priest, okay? It was an accident, my shoes were untied. I'm not going to go to hell for that am I?" realization hit her.
"Was it the world's fattest priest?" Carly asked with a smirk.
"That's so 2007," Freddie rolled his eyes. He patted Carly on the knee. "See you when we say 'I do'." He left the room and tried to stop from laughing at Sam's appearance.
"Now that he's gone, put on your dress," Sam held it out to her.
Carly's wedding dress was fit for a princess. The dress was slim with little ruffles. The front of the dress had a v-neck with silver embroidering. The back had a mesh with embroidery and ruffles along the train.
"I'm getting married," Carly grinned. She held the dress up to her and twirled around laughing.
"As of two o'clock today, you will be a married woman," Sam smiled soflty.
"To Freddie, I'm marrying Freddie," she said as if she had just realized what was going on.
"Yeah, you are. Any last wishes? You never even got a bachelorette party," Sam told her.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, despite Mrs. Benson's blubbering. Sam and Spencer had linked arms, walking down the aisle. He actually cleaned up quite nicely. Sam smiled at Freddie, who was standing next to his best man, Eddie, who didn't look that bad in a tux.
Mr. Shay walked Carly down the aisle. He sent Freddie a threatening glare and took his place next to his wife. Freddie took Carly's small hands in his and grinned from ear to ear.
"We are gathered here today…." the time passed. "Are there any objections? Speak now or forever hold your peace," the priest looked around and caught Mrs. Benson trying to stand, but her mother, Grandma Benson who flew in from Canada, held her down.
"You may now kiss the bride," the priest announced.
The reception at a lovely restaurant had begun. Carly and Freddie were dancing quite closely, and Sam had finally gotten away from Eddie who kept trying to ask her out on a date, and headed to the bar.
"Hello stranger," Sam grinned as she seated herself next to Spencer, who was nursing a drink.
"Hello to you, too. Did I tell you how lovely you look?" he asked with a smirk.
"Your sister is the one who picked the dress, not me, so shut it," Sam snapped and placed her order, tequila, and looked up at Spencer.
"Do you think that could be us some day?" he asked, gazing at how Freddie spun Carly around the dance floor.
"I think it's doable," Sam smirked as she listened to the song. They were waltzing, albeit Carly could waltz slightly better.
People were settling in at their tables. Spencer and Sam went to the head table to join the bride, groom, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids. Sam raised her wine glass and tapped a fork on it. When the guests still didn't quiet down, she yelled.
"Shut up, I have to make a toast!" she stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled to get people's attention.
"Thank you. I just wanted to congratulate Carly and Freddie, my two best friends. I never thought I'd see the day when Carly would realize how she and Freddie would work well together. That also happened to be the day that Freddie decided to go out with someone else," Sam smiled, earning chuckles from people they knew in high school. That someone else had been Sam, who Freddie begged to let him take her out on a date in order to make Carly jealous.
"I don't know what to say except to wish them a long and happy life. I hope they get everything they want and need, because they truly deserve to be happy. I was never good at this sort of stuff, so drink up and party. To Carly and Freddie," Sam took a swig and sat down.
Spencer leaned over and whispered, "My turn."
Spencer stood up, "As you know, I'm not the best man," he shot a pointed look at Freddie. "I am however, Carly's brother. I want to wish them the best and Freddie, if you hurt her, I'll send Sam to kill you," he grinned at the younger man's horrified face.
Sam laughed, "You know I'd do it Benson."
"Benson and Benson," Freddie corrected.
"It's actually Benson and Shay-Benson," Carly corrected her husband.
"Since when?" Freddie asked.
"Since I told you I wanted my name to be hyphenated," she shrugged.
"When was that?"
Carly leaned over and whispered in his ear, "You were watching the home shopping network for electronics," she grinned as he blushed.
"No wonder I don't remember," he mumbled. At least he had scored a new laptop.
As the hours wore on, it was time for the bouquet toss. All the eligible ladies lined up in front of Carly.
"Sam, why don't you go?" Spencer nudged his girlfriend.
"I have what I need right here," she smiled, stroking his cheek.
"Want to get out of here?" he asked.
"And go where?" Sam asked raising a brow.
"The apartment is empty," he waggled his eyebrows.
Sam rolled her eyes and smacked him on the chest, "Thanks, but no thanks."
Someone had caught the bouquet. It was the red headed bridesmaid. Eddie caught the garter and the two danced. Sam smiled at the pair.
"May I have this dance?" Spencer asked her, holding his hand out.
"I don't know, I think I stepped on your feet enough as it is," she told him.
"I don't mind."
Sam took his hand and the pair stood to join the other dancing couples. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed his hands at her waist. He leaned in and kissed her cheek as they swayed to the music.
Carly and Freddie bid several of their guests goodbye, as they had to leave. Carly nudged Freddie in the ribs and nodded her head over to the couple.
"It's about time," he muttered.
"Remember when Spence found out you and Sam were dating?" Carly asked.
"He was ready to beat me up. At the time I thought it was for hurting your feelings, now I think that wasn't it," Freddie told his wife.
"I'm glad you and Sam went on that date. It made me realize how much I liked you," Carly grinned.
"First of all, it was a fake date to make you jealous. Second of all, she eats way too much at the movies," he told her.
"Well, it worked. She's Spencer's problem now," Carly said with an approving smile.
"It only took nearly a decade," Freddie rolled his eyes.
"C'mon, let's dance," Carly took his hands and led him out to the dance floor.
"Hey, when is everyone leaving?" Freddie asked, noticing that more than half of their guests were still there.
"In an hour, why?"
"I have to wait an hour for the honeymoon?" Freddie whined.
"You waited for years, I don't think an hour will kill you," she laughed.
"If it does, and I die, I will haunt you forever," he told her.
"That doesn't sound too bad," Carly grinned.
"Ow! Sam, that was my foot!" they heard Spencer shout in pain.
"I'm sorry, I warned you," she told him, not looking sorry at all.
"Damned heels," he grumbled.
"To prevent further injuries, try not to lower your hands too much," she smirked jokingly.
"Evil, evil, woman," he grinned, placing his hands firmly on her waist.
"Now, that's how to behave like a gentleman," she nodded, satisfied.
"I'm always a gentleman," he said, offended.
Sam nodded, "Of course you are, dear."
"You're patronizing me," he whispered.
"Hush, Carly and Freddie are going to make their final speech," she swatted his arm.
Carly and Freddie stood at the center of the dance floor.
"We would like to thank you all for coming and for all of the presents. Honestly, I don't know what we're going to do with five toasters," Carly giggled.
"Let Freddie make a robot or something," Sam shouted.
"Hey!" he said, offended.
"Anyways, I love all of you, and I couldn't think of better people to have with us on our special day. Mom, dad, Spence, you guys are the best family a girl could ask for. Mrs. Benson, thanks for putting up with me," Carly offered.
"We're all family now. See you during the holidays everyone. We've got a plane to catch!" Freddie said hurriedly.
Carly grinned and held Freddie's hand. They hugged and bid farewell to all of their guests and family.
"Sam," Carly caught her as they were about to leave. The two hugged.
"What is it?"
"Don't let Spencer burn the apartment down," she warned her.
"No can do, my flight's tomorrow night," Sam told her.
"Sammy," Carly hugged her yet again. Freddie wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulder.
"Thanks for being here," he told her, "and thanks for not giving me a black eye."
"No problem. Have fun you guys," she told them as they left the restaurant.
"You're leaving again?" Spencer asked her after saying his goodbyes.
Sam looked down, "Yeah, I have a job, and a life there."
"I understand," Spencer said.
"But I'm resigning," Sam told him with a smile.
"Sam, you can't do that, you love your job," he said, worry etched in his features.
"I'll be resigning from the office work. I'll be freelance and can work from here. I need to go and give my two weeks notice…and pack up my stuff once I find an apartment," she said with a grin.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Look, can we talk about this tomorrow morning, I'm tired," she dodged the question.
"Sure, let's go."
The following morning, or, really, that morning, around ten, Sam finally trudged out of the guest room wearing her pajama bottoms and a gray concert tee shirt that clashed with the blue penguins on the pants.
Spencer sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper open to the opinions section with a cup of coffee. Sam walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mug, pouring it herself. She sat down across from Spencer and sipped the warm liquid slowly.
"So," Spencer said, "I guess we should talk now."
Sam nodded, "I think we should. I thought it over, and one thing is for sure. I want to be with you. A three thousand mile distance between us will be terrible."
"I would love if you were here, but it's so sudden. I don't want you to give up your life," he said looking at her.
Sam looked down, as if she were rejected.
"I need to pack," Sam said, standing up and walking towards the room she was staying in.
She picked up her suitcase and threw in her clothes except for what she would be wearing on the flight. They had been so close, so close. She sat herself down on the bed and stared at the wall.
There was a knock at the door, but Spencer didn't bother waiting for an answer.
"What do you want-?" Sam was cut off as Spencer kissed her firmly on the lips. His hands ran up and down her back as she ran her hands through his hair. She moaned a little as Spencer's hands made their way under her shirt. Both of them fully knew that she was devoid of a bra at the moment.
"Don't leave," he whispered, stroking the bare skin exposed on her stomach. As they laid down her shirt had ridden up slightly.
"I have to, but I'll be back," she murmured softly, as he kissed her cheek.
"Two weeks," he told her with a smile as she sat up and adjusted her shirt.
"We can't solve our problems this way, you know? Kissing is great and everything, but we need to talk to each other," she told him.
"I know that Sammy. Where are you going to stay?" he asked, hoping she could move in.
"Not sure yet," she told him, standing and making her way over to the suitcase.
"Stay here," he said with a hopeful expression.
"Where, in your room?" she asked.
"No, here, in this room, or Carly's old room," he offered.
"Sure. I need to make sure that I can be based here though. If not, there are a bunch of newspapers in Seattle that need photographers. It's not National Geographic, but it's still work. You know I love to travel. I'm still going to travel, okay?" she asked, wringing her hands together.
"Okay, then. See you in two weeks," he told her with a smile.
That's all folks, for now anyways. Please review. I'm still undecided about the epilogue.