iAm My Sister's Keeper
In the week since Melanie had left for California, things were rocky on the home front. Sam's grades were slipping, which, in and of itself, was no great surprise, but she was sniping at Carly for virtually no reason whatsoever. Fat Cakes and bacon were uneaten. Sam Puckett was clearly depressed.
Carly did her best, cuddling into Sam on the sofa, her arm snaked around her partner's waist.
"C'mon, Baby… Tell me what's the matter. You've been like this all week. You hardly eat, you toss and turn all night, you're…" she paused. "… more feisty than usual. This is about Mel, isn't it? It's okay if you miss her, honey. We both do."
Carly saw Sam's lower lip quiver. This cut closer to the bone than her lover would admit, but it didn't matter – Carly could read her like a book. She playfully poked Sam's navel, like she always did when she was grumpy.
"Hey there, Boogie Bear…" Carly cooed, using the name of Sam's favorite fictional character. It always made her smile.
Sam chuckled.
"Hey Cupcake?"
"Yes, Light of my Life?"
Sam flushed magenta.
"Coffee, please?"
Carly leaned in and kissed her flush on the forehead.
"But of course, my love…"
No sooner had Carly reached the kitchen, her phone began to vibrate, sending not-so-unpleasant tingles into her hip. She only hoped this wasn't the Colonel. She was done with him and his little psychological war games. She glanced at her phone, hoping against hope.
NEW MESSAGE
FROM: Melanie Puckett
Sent: 7: 13 PM, PST
Carly! Miss U 2 bunches! It's amazing here… Wish U could B here w/ me. Give Sam my Luv… Hugs! Mel
Carly was relieved. Had it been the Colonel, she was ready to pound her PearPhone with the mallet in the kitchen drawer. Sam had told her about the call two weeks ago, when she had been tempted to snap it in two with her bare hands. Carly knew she was trying to turn over a new leaf, especially in light of her new relationship with Melanie, but she was grateful. She knew Sam would always protect her – even laying down her own life in the process, if it came to it. Sam Puckett would always be her knight in shining armor, the defender of her honor, no matter how long the odds. It took nerves of steel to stand up to Steven Shay – nerves that only Roger Morgan and Sam Puckett seemed to possess – and Carly adored her fearless blonde protector, her Amazon warrior in boxer shorts.
By the time Carly had crossed from the kitchen to the sofa in the living room, she found Sam passed out – fast asleep on the sofa – cell phone in hand. She gently pried the phone from Sam's sleepy blonde fingers. Curiosity getting the better of her, she snooped for the first time in her life. The last thing Sam had done was send a text message. Seeing it warmed Carly's heart beyond measure.
NEW MESSAGE
TO: Mel
Sent: 7:25 PM, PST
Hey Sweet Cheeks, Can't tell Carly the truth. I love you. Make Mama proud. Win. – Sam
MEANWHILE, IN HOLLYWOOD…
Melanie had just finished up her evening rehearsal. The empty hotel ballroom wasn't anything like performing in front of a crowd in a packed arena, but was a reasonable enough analog that she could walk herself through the paces, work out the kinks, and feel comfortable with her nights' work.
She packed up, left the stage, and headed for the lobby in search of some fresh air. She was barely out the door when she was cornered by another contestant, a country singer from the South somewhere. He made her skin crawl, the hairs on her neck standing on end. Her initial impression of him was 'rapist in cowboy boots'.
"For a pretty girl, you really shouldn't go around like that, you know, the way you do... with all them rainbows and such. Somebody might think that you were… you know, funny that way…"
Melanie had only seen him around once before, this leatherneck with the South Texas drawl, and she already hated him. She didn't know what she wanted to do – only that it wasn't going to be very ladylike.
She ignored him. Her phone began to vibrate. She began to glow, radiating love, happiness, and sheer, unadulterated joy.
"Who was that? Your girlfriend?"
"None of your goddamn business is who that was! Was I talking to you?"
Melanie instantly wished for her sister. She loved Sam more than life, and Sam would know what to do. She would do what Melanie couldn't. This hayseed made her blood boil. She wanted to take off her boot and impale him through the ear with her spiked heel. She was proud to be a Puckett. She loved her family, and no one – absolutely NO ONE – would hurt those she loved. Sam had taught her from a very young age how to defend herself.
"No, but maybe you should be. You seem like a nice girl, just maybe need a little...guidance."
She wanted to vomit – right there, all over his god-awful cowboy boots. Guidance? Who was this jackass trying to kid?
"You know, the Bible says homosexuality is a sin… an abomination…"
Melanie was furious. She seethed, just below the surface. The only good man her mother ever brought around when she and Sam were young was a preacher. She grew to care for him very much, even when she was small. He taught her a great many things. Most of all, he taught her Scripture.
"Leviticus, Eighteen-Twenty-two," she spat. She was angry, defiant. He was flippant.
"Ooh, a proper church-goin' girl. You know the Book. I like that."
"Well…" she cooed, sickly sweet, "You're from Texas, right? Houston, isn't it? They like their football down there, don't they? Well, last time I checked, touching the skin of a dead pig made one unclean – Leviticus, Eleven-Seven… Better wear gloves, Cowboy… Wouldn't want you going to Hell, now would we?" Melanie turned on the faux Southern accent she had picked up at school, as easy as flipping a light switch. "Because, well, Mercy me… That just wouldn't go over too well in church on Sunday, now would it? And while we're on the subject, need I remind you that Pride and Envy are two of the Deadly Sins? And just one more thing, Sugar… if I EVER hear you say ONE WORD about my family again… Baby, you'll be a Soprano…"
Her palms were sweating. Her heart was racing. Inside, Melanie beamed. Sam would've been so proud.