I drew in breath.
Then I whispered, “No shit.”
Silence again.
I knew my father liked Sampson Cooper. He said over and over again he was a good ballplayer even when Sam was playing for the UCLA Bruins. Dad was super pleased the Colts got him in the draft. And I remembered him having a conversation with a bunch of his buddies (and Cooter, who was not a buddy, he just happened to be there) where Cooter was dissing Sam for his choice to leave football for the Army and Dad had said firmly, “Man’s got mettle. One thing to play at warrior wearin’ pads on a field. Another thing all together to be one.” Cooter had no reply to that but his face got hard and his eyes got scary though, luckily, he got over this before we got home and he could take it out on me.
Dad broke the silence. “How’d this happen?”
“Well, we, uh… were in the same hotel in Lake Como, we were seated at tables next to each other at breakfast. Then the maitre d’ moved me to his table, we started talking, hit it off, he asked me out, I went and we’ve kinda spent nearly every minute together since.”
And, it occurred to me just then, this was true. Except when Sam worked out or ran, when he went to his room to get clothes and when he left me at Luci’s to go back to the hotel, we had not been apart, like, at all.
Whoa.
More silence then, gently, “He know about your recent business?”
Boy did he ever.
“Everything,” I whispered. “He’s, uh… I’ve, well…” I pulled in breath. “He’s not had a very good time of it, Dad. Being away from home, having time to think, stuff has come up for me and Sam’s borne the brunt of that. I’ve tried to, well, push him away and we’ve had some dramas. He’s helping me work through stuff.”
“He’s helping you work through stuff,” Dad whispered back.
“Yeah,” I kept whispering.
More silence.
I broke the silence.
“Dad, all the things you might think he is, he is but he’s more. He’s very wise and he’s very protective and he can be gentle –”
“Gentle,” Dad whispered and I felt my throat close. “My girl deserves gentle.”
Oh man.
“Dad,” I choked out.
But it was Dad who cleared his throat then he asked, “So, where’s this goin’?”
I drew in a calming breath and answered, “He’s coming back to Indiana with me and I’m going to deal with some stuff I have to deal with there then Memphis and I are going to his house in North Carolina for awhile.”
“Inseparable,” Dad muttered.
“Sorry?”
“Nuthin’, honey. I look forward to meetin’ him, you tell him that.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me but said stupidly, “Uh… he’s not Sampson Cooper.”
“Say again?”
“He’s not Sampson Cooper,” I repeated then explained, “It’s just that, well, when you first meet him, that’s all you’ll see but he’s not Sampson Cooper, he’s not Coop. He’s Sam.”
“He’s Sam,” Dad repeated after me.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Right,” Dad whispered back, my phone binged and my brows drew together. “What’s that?” Dad asked.
“I think I have another call,” I told him.
It was probably Celeste, she could leave a message and I’d call her back.
“I’ll let you go,” Dad said.
“No, that’s –”
“You go, take your call and we’ll see you in a few days. Can’t wait to have you back home, honey.”
“Right, Dad.”
“Love you, Kiakee.”
Man, I loved it when Dad called me “Kiakee” and, lucky for me, he did it all the time.
“Love you too, Dad.”
“Love you, sweetie!” Mom shouted in the background.
“Love to Mom too,” I told Dad and my phone binged again.
“‘Bye, honey,” Dad said.
“‘Bye, Dad,” I replied.
Then he disconnected, I took the phone from my ear and grabbed the next call, putting it back to my ear before seeing the name come up on the display.
“Hel –”
“What the f**k?” I heard Paula screech and I took the phone from my ear with a wince again then put it back.
“Paula, sweetie, I’m so sorry I didn’t text. I’ve decided I’m backing –”
“What the f**k, f**k, f**kity, f**king, f**k, f**k, FUCK?” she shrieked.
Again, I did the phone and ear business and when she stopped squealing, I hesitantly put it back and started, “I’m not sure that unit is a good invest –”
I didn’t finish.
This was because Paula announced, “I am, right now, sitting at my computer looking at you wearing a kickass tank with some serious kickass lace at the back but it is not the awesome tank I see but freaking, freakity, freak, freak, freaking Sampson Cooper wrapped around you and you’re kissing!”
Ohmigod!
“Uh…” I mumbled, thinking fast.
“Uh! Uh!” Paula shouted. “What the f**k?”
“Paula, swear, I was just going to call and tell you that I, um… well, I met Sam in Lake Como and we kinda hooked up.”
“You kinda hooked up?” she screamed.
I did the wince, phone, ear thing again then put it back and whispered, “Paula, honey, you’re going to shatter my eardrum if you keep shrieking at me.”
“Oh, so sorry, babe, I mean, you hooked up with Sam who would be Sampson Cooper in freaking Lake Como, Italy and there are pictures of you on the internet making out with him so, you know, considering he’s a major freaking hot guy, he’s been the love of your life for years and you’re in Lake Como, Italy making out with him, I was a little out of sorts. I’ll keep a freaking lock on it.”
“We weren’t making out,” I told her and tried to hark back to if we were.
“You’re standin’ on a sidewalk goin’ at it, girl,” she returned and I blinked.
Oh God.
Oh shit!
Tilda had followed us and taken pictures!
What a stalker bitch!
Shit! Sam was going to be pissed!
“Uh…”
“And then there are others, you two sittin’ at a table, all cozy, him way up in your space,” I heard the mouse button clicking in the background, “you got your elbow on the table and you are way up in his space right back. Holy crap. Holy shit. I cannot believe my eyes.” More clicks. “Ohmigod!” she shouted. “He’s smiling at you in this one! Ohmigod! I’m going to have an orgasm just looking at it.”