AN: A little Sonny comfort, 'cause God knows he needs it on occasion, and some fluffy Christmas stuff.
squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi / I can tell that it's gonna be a long road
One year earlier.
Amanda's eyes flew open, startled. Her heart in her throat from being suddenly jolted awake, she struggled to sit up to look over at Sonny in the dark. The only light was the moon streaming in through the window of their Long Island City apartment, but it illuminated his profile enough that Amanda could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Her mind instinctively went to her gun, which was locked up in their closet. Before she had children, it had always been within arm's reach.
"Hey, what is it? What's the matter?" she asked Sonny anxiously, a hand gripping his bicep as she leaned over to get a better look at his face.
"I'm fine," Sonny told her breathlessly.
As a person who should have had a disingenuous I'm fine tattooed on her forehead, Amanda was skeptical. She reached over to her beside table and flicked on the light. Sonny's hands roughly rubbed at his face, his palms digging into his eyes like he was trying to un-see something.
"Tom again?" she guessed.
He filled his lungs with air, then exhaled audibly. "Yeah."
Amanda frowned and shifted closer to him. Pressing her chest into the side of his arm, she wrapped her own arms around him in a sideways hug and squeezed. She rested her chin atop his shoulder. "Same dream?"
Sonny nodded, eyes staring blankly ahead. She could tell his breathing was slowing by the slowing movement of his chest, but he didn't look any more relaxed.
"It's not your fault, Sonny. You gotta let this go," she urged him in a whisper, lifting her head again and tilting it to look at him.
"It is my fault, though," he insisted weakly, for what had to be the thousandth time. "I mean, the circumstances weren't, but in the end..."
She dropped her arms that were encircling him but remained close, a folded knee resting atop his thigh, a palm soothing up and down the back of his damp t-shirt slowly. For the past few weeks, Sonny's sleep had been interrupted by Tom Williams' death. Sometimes Amanda woke up to an empty space beside her, because he had relocated to the living room couch. Luca still slept out there, so Sonny put headphones in his ears and played around on his laptop for hours. Other nights, Amanda was startled awake by his nightmare, the one where his hand gripped Tom's tightly - just not tightly enough.
"Sonny..." she said gently. "I know you feel like you coulda done something, but... thinkin' about this doesn't change the outcome. Torturing yourself doesn't change the outcome."
"His mother..."
"I know, I know. But, she's a nut. You said it yourself."
"Still. Your kid dyin' before you? Like that? I can't even imagine what that's like..."
Amanda sighed. "What do you always tell Jesse about forgiveness? That it's 'a virtue of the brave.' You're so good at that. You never hold grudges, you always give people second chances. How come you can't give yourself one, huh?"
He looked down at his lap.
She kissed his shoulder. "C'mon, I've gotta good point, don't I? Give me some credit for once," she said playfully in an attempt to lighten the mood slightly.
"You do. It's just..." Sonny rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "Every time I think I've moved passed it, it comes up again, like this. I just wish I could get it outta my head."
Amanda wanted that, too. For him, for herself. Even with over a year of therapy, she hadn't figured out the trick yet, except to engage in a distraction that eventually made the sights and sound a little less vivid. After a minute of quiet, she asked him, "y'wanna back rub?"
"Huh?" he responded distractedly.
"A back rub," Amanda repeated, nudging his shoulder. "C'mon, turn over. It'll help put you back to sleep."
Without protest, Sonny flopped onto his stomach. He folded his arms beneath his head and rested a cheek on top. She climbed over him, a knee on either side of his body, then sat back on her haunches. She tucked her hair behind her ears and began to work on the tense muscles in his shoulders. Her hands weren't particularly strong, but she figured whatever she did was better than him lying awake and staring at the ceiling.
"When I was kid, we used to have this thing in town. A sunflower festival," Amanda mused as her palms moved, the memory suddenly and randomly surfacing. "It was at this big old farm and they brought in tilt-a-whirls and ferris wheels and stuff. My mama never wanted to pay for me and Kim to go. She said it was a waste, spending money for a few minutes on some junky old amusement rides. So Kim and I would wait till the sun was just starting to set and sneak under the fence."
"Tsk tsk" Sonny mumbled.
She smiled. "We didn't have any money to go on the rides or anything, but we'd run through this massive sunflower field, chasin' each other and hiding. We'd do that for hours. I remember looking up every now and then and being amazed at how tall the sunflowers were, like maybe they were even touching the sky. Then, when it got dark... that's when the fireflies always came out."
"Those are really a thing?" he asked curiously.
"'Course they are. You're such a city boy," Amanda scoffed, giving his ribs a playful poke. Her hands then soothed over the taut muscle beneath his shoulder blades. "In Georgia, they come out every summer. You've never seen anything like it. They blink in all different patterns, so it looks like... I dunno, magic. Like the air is sparkling. We used to try to catch them in jars. We'd poke holes in the top and bring them home, keep them in our room like special little lamps."
"Didn't they die?"
"Nah. We only kept them for a day or two, then let them back go at night," she explained. "I loved it, I couldn't wait till it got warm out to see them, even when I was older. It's definitely a country thing, though. When I was a freshman in college, I had to take some science class in order to graduate, y'know, to fill a requirement. I picked an environmental science and I'll never forget the day we learned about fireflies and how they glow. I was so excited, I think because I was homesick - for Loganville more than the people there. Atlanta was the big city to me." Amanda smiled wistfully at how wide-eyed and eager she had been to impress her peers, who she had perceived as sophisticated and intimidating. Her fingertips trailed down Sonny's spine. "Enzymes and proteins, they convert chemical energy into light. Isn't that cool? Tiny creatures that make their own light whenever they want to..." She paused thoughtfully and realized she had been rambling. She quirked an eyebrow, her hands stilling. "You asleep?"
"No," Sonny murmured. "I just like the sound of your voice."
She grinned. With the tip of a finger, she began to lazily trace letters onto his back. A... M... A... N... D... A... "Feel any better?"
"Uh huh," he grunted.
Climbing off of Sonny carefully, she flopped onto her stomach next to him. She wriggled around until his arm was across her back and her nose was practically pressed against his cheek.
Sonny turned his head and closed the tiny space between their faces to kiss her. "Thanks."
Amanda rested her forehead against his. "You're welcome, baby." She reached the hand between them up to cup the side of his face, a thumb grazing his cheek. Her fingers then wandered, carding through his hair slowly. "I love you, y'know."
A tired smile tugged at the corner of Sonny's mouth. "I love you."
"It'll get better," she promised him quietly. "It always does."
Long after Sanchez and McCarthy left, Amanda cleaned up the aftermath of the robbery. With a towel in her hand, she slid the broken glass of her perfume bottle across and off of the surface of the dresser, then into a trashcan. She was momentarily flooded by the powerful scent of the lingering pool of fragrance and it made her queasy. Scrunching her nose and swallowing thickly, she set the garbage aside and exhaled audibly. She straightened out the two bottles that remained, then untangled the necklaces that had been left behind.
Moments later, the bedroom door creaked open and Sonny walked in.
"They asleep?" Amanda asked about Jesse and Luca.
He nodded. "Yeah."
She turned back to her remaining jewelry and fiddled with her earrings. At least not all of her stuff was gone.
"So..." Sonny began. "I guess the neighbors across the street have a camera."
Her brow furrowed, trying to remember who owned the house on the other side of the road. "Melissa and...what's his name? Dan?"
"Yeah." She heard the mattress creak; he must have sat down. "They sent all the footage from tonight to McCarthy."
"Those residential cameras are crappy quality. It won't do us any good," she grumbled.
"He just finished goin' through it..."
Amanda turned around to see Sonny perched on the edge of the bed. "And?" she prompted him.
He thumbed through his phone then held it up for her, his expression solemn as he waited for her to take in what was on the screen.
Taking a cautious step forward, Amanda squinted at the picture. It had been magnified and enhanced, and while it was still dark and grainy, the image was clear as day to her: a tall, thin woman was glancing over her shoulder on their front step, blonde hair down her back. Beside her was a male Amanda didn't recognize, but the other perpetrator was obvious. She felt her chest and throat tighten. Even if she had had a suspicion about Kim, seeing the evidence was like getting punched in the gut.
"It's her, Amanda," Sonny said quietly, as if she had any doubt. "Lettin' herself in like she owns the place."
Amanda's teeth chewed on the corner of her lower lip. She shrugged helplessly; she didn't know what the appropriate response was when your husband proved you little sister robbed your house.
"We lent her a key once, like, nine months ago to watch Frannie," he reminded her slowly. "You told me you were gonna get it back."
She tugged at her bangs. "I know, I... she was doing so good, and... I guess forgot," she admitted meekly.
He stood up and tossed his phone haphazardly onto the bed. "Yeah, it looks like it."
Dropping her hand away from her face, she rubbed her stomach slowly, nervously. "We'll change the locks."
Sonny's blue eyes went icy and his features sharp. "Was she casin' our house? How'd she know we were gone?" he demanded.
It was then Amanda realized that he wasn't just angry - he was angry at her. "I don't know," she insisted. "You know she hasn't answered any of my messages in months."
He shook his head, exasperated. "We're pressin' charges."
Her mouth fell open. "Sonny..."
"Don't defend her," he said curtly.
"She's obviously having a hard time, she-"
"You're unbelievable," Sonny interrupted. "How many times does she have to fuck you over for you to see that you can't save her? You told me yourself, this is what she does. She uses people."
She had, in fact, lectured him about Kim's manipulative tendencies. It had been so much easier before, when it was only Sonny getting duped. Now, it was their house, their kids, and it felt so much more hurtful. Amanda lowered her eyes to the floor wordlessly.
"She crossed a line, 'Manda," he continued. "You know I've always tried to see the best in Kim but, robbin' our house? I'm done with her."
"She's my sister," Amanda pleaded.
"And?" Sonny exclaimed. "Is that some kinda excuse? You don't see my sisters breakin' and entering!"
She felt a hot flash of anger and crossed her arms over her chest. "Congratu-fucking-lations, your family isn't nuts," she snapped. "You want a parade?"
"Oh, this is beyond nuts, Amanda," he laughed crassly. "This is like, pathological fucking-"
"I get it, Sonny!" she shouted, interrupting him. "Jesus Christ, I get it. Stop yellin' at me like I could have done something about this."
"I don't think you coulda done something about it," Sonny told her, stalking over to their still-destroyed closet. He began to rummage around the aftermath. "But it's just, every time I think Kim can't get crazier, she does. It's fuckin' mind-blowing."
Amanda felt wounded. It wasn't like she necessarily disagreed with Sonny, but she wanted him to understand how conflicted she was. She wanted him to be more sensitive toward the fact that for the majority of her life, Kim had been more like her kid than her little sister. Of course, he never had to experience the challenge of caring for someone so chaotic. As he had just pointed out, his siblings were normal. His siblings didn't rob, cheat, prostitute or murder. They were easy to love.
She wanted to get angry and yell at Sonny, but she felt heavy and tired from her shock and sadness. A screaming match wouldn't change anything; it would only raise her blood pressure, which had already fluctuated enough that night. For a few minutes she went back to silently tinkering with the items left on her dresser, then she announced feebly, "I'm gonna go watch some TV."
She padded downstairs to the living room. Ousting Frannie from her spot on the couch, Amanda took her place only to have the dog curl up into her side. Fluffy purred behind her from his perch on the back of the sofa. Amanda adjusted herself beneath at throw blanket then turned on the television. She idly scratched behind Frannie's ears as she settled on a tacky Hallmark Channel Christmas movie. She didn't really care what was on - the activity was more about taking space from Sonny, whose aggravation was palpable and unsettling. Was it unjustified, though? Probably not. It had been a long time since Amanda had wondered if he wished he had married somebody else, somebody with baggage that was a little less tumultuous.
Amanda wished for that, too, but she never got it. She hadn't experienced a pleasant childhood or had a family that took care of one another. Even though she was many miles away from her upbringing in Georgia, remnants of it lingered. She wasn't proud of it, yet Amanda clung to pieces - pieces like Kim. If it hadn't been clear before, now it was obvious that their relationship was toxic. The longer she hung on to it, the more poisonous it became, the more hurtful Kim's actions were. It was like a tiny chip in a sheet of glass: over time, with stress, the crack spread. If one didn't replace the entire pane, it would eventually shatter.
To let go of Kim was to untether herself from the one shred of family she had been trying to salvage her entire life. Amanda shouldn't have needed it: she had a husband, children, a mother and father in Sonny's parents. Why, then, was it so hard for her to cut ties with her sister? All Kim ever did was take advantage of her. Amanda was so tired of feeling used, of giving her all for her sister only to get cheated in return. Her hopes had been so high in the past year that she had lowered all of her boundaries, only to be left in pain and resentful.
Amanda sunk deeper into the couch cushions, further beneath the blanket, and closed her eyes. Cringing, she realized, I've become Kim's doormat.
It was time to get off of the floor.
From behind a window of bullet-proof glass, Amanda watched with envy as Sonny tested out his new gun. The Department had a rule: no woman more than twenty weeks pregnant was allowed on the shooting range. Her replacement firearm would be locked away at the precinct until she was off of desk duty. With arms crossed over her burgeoning stomach, she practically pouted as she waited for him to finish. Sonny was a good shot, but Amanda knew she was better, which bolstered her jealous ego just slightly.
When he was done, she put her coat back on and pulled her gray cashmere beanie low over her ears. December in New York City meant that once the sun set, the air turned too harsh and cold for Amanda's thin southern blood. With his new gun in the holster on his hip, Sonny shrugged on his own jacket before they both headed outside. They walked wordlessly next to one another down the busy sidewalk. Things between them had been tense since discovering Kim had robbed their house several days prior. They hadn't talked much, just went through the motions of trying to make everything as normal as possible for Jesse and Luca. Christmas was in five days and that was their focus; nobody wanted the holiday tarnished.
"Y'wanna go to that place you like?" Sonny asked her randomly.
She buried her hands deeper into her coat pockets; she had forgotten her gloves. "What place?"
"Y'know, the fancy French one," he elaborated. "We're right around the corner."
"If you want," Amanda agreed with a shrug.
"I bet it's all decorated for Christmas," he added enthusiastically.
She cast a sideways glance over at him. He had a familiar look on his face - one of cheerful eagerness. Sonny hated conflict, so Amanda assumed that this was his olive branch. MarieBelle was a SoHo chocolate shop and cafe they had gone to for years, mostly at her insistence. Amanda would have loved to go to France, but MarieBelle would probably be the closest she would ever get.
Sinking down into the booth inside of the shop was a relief. She took her coat off but kept her hat on, her ears still cold. She ordered a cinnamon hot chocolate which arrived in a large, elegant mug topped with a swirl of whipped cream.
Sonny toyed with the saucer beneath his own beverage. "McCarthy called me. They need an inventory of what's missin'."
Amanda poked at the whipped cream atop her drink, hesitant to respond.
He leaned in closer. "Look. I'm sorry I freaked out about Kim," he apologized quietly. "I know she's got... issues."
Lifting her eyes, Amanda met his gaze. "It's easy for you to write her off, Sonny," she began slowly, making an effort to keep emotion out of her voice. "But she's my sister and she's always gonna be. My mama's hot and cold, my dad's well... y'know, so Kim's all I got for my family."
"I know," Sonny insisted. "And... I've been thinkin'. If you don't wanna press charges, we won't."
Amanda shook her head and looked back down at her cup. She used the cinnamon stick garnish to stir her hot chocolate, suddenly wishing it was a beer instead. "Not following through with the charges isn't doing her any favors." She looked at Sonny across the table. "I can't let her hold me hostage forever. I gotta just... go with what I know the right thing is, even though it sucks. And the right thing is pressing charges."
His brows knitted together. "Are you sure?"
Slumping back in her seat, she sighed. "Yeah." She put her hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice. She's outta chances."
The living room was an explosion of wrapping paper, ribbon and boxes. Christmas morning had started at a somewhat reasonable time that year: seven a.m. After each child had torn through every package with their name on it - and some that didn't - all that was left was what Amanda and Sonny would eventually have to clean up. From her cozy spot on the couch, Amanda smiled as she watched Jesse enthusiastically assemble her Disney princess play set in the middle of the floor. Beside her, Luca suddenly dropped his toy hammer and saw from his Fisher-Price tool box and picked up a small, wrapped rectangular box triumphantly, clearly proud that he had discovered one last gift.
"Oh, yeah," Sonny said, sitting up straighter next to Amanda. "Hey, Luca. Give that to your mother, buddy."
The toddler wobbled his way over to Amanda obediently and held the present out in front of her.
"Thank you, baby," Amanda told him gently, taking the skinny box from his hand. She read the tag: her name was scrawled obviously in Sonny's handwriting, so she glanced over at him with a coy, suspicious smile. Turning back to Luca, she offered, "here, y'wanna help me open it?"
With clumsy fingers, Luca tugged at the wrapping paper with Amanda's assistance. Once it was discarded, she held a velvet jewelry box in her hands.
"What is it? What is it?" Jesse asked excitedly, tripping over boxes to get over to her mother's side.
"I don't know yet," she laughed.
"Open it!" her daughter pleaded.
Amanda slowly cracked open the box. She expected to see a bracelet or necklace resting on the interior cushioned lining, but instead there were glossy New York Knicks tickets staring back up at her. Not just one pair - but a stack. Her eyes widened in shock as her mouth fell open. "Sonny!" she exclaimed in disbelief, turning in her spot to look at him. "How, what... how many are in here?"
Sonny gave her a smug smile and rubbed at the stubble along his jaw absently. "Six."
"Six?!" she blurted excitedly. Gripping the box tightly in her hand, she flung herself across the couch to hug him, her stomach taking up space between them. "I can't believe it! Thank you!"
He chuckled into her ear and kissed the side of her head. "You're welcome. Merry Christmas."
When she pulled away, she gawked down at the tickets again. She remembered telling Sonny that she had wanted them, but she hadn't expected him to follow through and buy her six.
"Oh man, you were so afraid I tried to buy you jewelry, weren't you?" he laughed with an amused waggle of his eyebrows.
"I mean, a little, but this is so much better," Amanda babbled gleefully. "I can't wait!"
He yawned lazily. "The first game isn't until February."
"How come?" she asked curiously.
"So you can drink a beer," Sonny explained, then added with a smirk, "everybody's a lot happier that way."
