I did not question falling in love with him because he was Sam.
And I did not question my decision earlier that day to hook my star to his, to restart my life after Cooter, however that came about, with Sam.
And I no longer questioned that Sam would want to hook his star to mine. We got along great (when we weren’t fighting). He was into me. He thought I was beautiful. He liked the way I dressed. We had great sex. I made him laugh. He made me laugh. His friends and Mom liked me. My friends and family liked him.
What I questioned was Sam announcing to everyone we were moving in together nearly upon waking the day after he made that mistaken assumption. It was almost if, in doing so, he was building a barricade I would find it difficult to break through if I decided to go back.
He wasn’t trapping me, I had free will, my life was my own, but he was throwing up obstacles, making it difficult, tying me to him.
And I didn’t get this.
Sam Cooper and Sampson Cooper didn’t need to do that with any woman. There was a desperation to it that alarmed me.
A desperation that might come from a man who lost a brother who was a brother bigger than blood then for over a year dealing with that man’s wife and seeing firsthand the devastating loss to a loved one left behind.
No.
That wasn’t all.
Seeing it at the same time feeling it for Luci wasn’t the only one who lost Gordo.
And thus I knew Sam loved me as in loved me for learning about loss by watching it and feeling it, he wasn’t taking any chances, he wasn’t wasting any time.
This worried me. I didn’t want him to feel this loss. I didn’t want him to feel this desperation. I didn’t want what we had to grow under that cloud. No one could tell the future and we might only have another day together or we might have fifty years. But even if we had only one day, I didn’t want Sam living it under a cloud.
But I had no earthly idea how to talk to him because this kind of thing, Sam did not share with me.
On this thought, Memphis’s head came up, it jerked to the house and I heard Sam’s truck growling into the drive then the gate swinging closed. Then I listened to the garage door going up. Memphis jumped down and her claws clicked on the deck as she ran to the porch door to wait for Sam to arrive.
Even with my heavy thoughts, this made me smile. My baby liked my man. Not a surprise. But my man liked my baby.
And that made life all the more sweet.
I heard a yap, twisted in my chair and watched Sam stride through the house I’d left lit softly with a few lamps. He hit the deck, scooped up a bouncing, happy Memphis on the go and came to me.
I tipped my head back, smiling gently at him and waited for his approach and kiss.
He didn’t give it to me. On the outside, he rounded the chair beside mine and folded into it, Memphis on his lap. She bounced, trying to lick his face and give him her brand of welcome home.
“Settle, Memphis,” Sam ordered firmly but not sharply.
Memphis, somewhat surprisingly, did as she was told.
She was immediately rewarded when Sam’s fingers massaged her fur at her neck and his eyes went to the sea.
I was a little troubled he had not greeted me but I let it go and asked softly, “You okay?”
“Hope to Christ this is a day I will not live again,” Sam answered immediately.
That didn’t sound good.
“How’s Luci?” I ventured.
“Lots of crying, hangin’ around while she talked to her folks, more crying and lots of listening to her talk about Gordo.”
“She’s processing it,” I deduced.
“She’s processin’ the shit outta it. She crammed a year of mourning into a day. She’s all over fuckin’ processing it.”
I pressed my lips together trying to read his mood and tone. It wasn’t frustrated but it was. He sounded tired. He sounded impatient and over it. The first and the last surprised me.
“Is she coming to any conclusions?” I asked.
“Sellin’ her house, movin’ back to Italy. It’s all about Gordo here. She’s got friends but her life here is her life with him and that’s gone. She’ll come back and visit but family and home is not here. Family and home is Italy. She’s puttin’ the house on the market tomorrow.”
Whoa.
“Shouldn’t she wait? Think about it awhile? This is a fragile juncture and moving on sudden decisions might not be good,” I suggested and at that, Sam’s head turned to me.
“Sudden?”
“Well, yes. Sudden as in, coming to terms with Gordo dying one day and putting their house on the market the next.”
“Nothing sudden about this shit, Kia. He’s been dead awhile. It’s about fuckin’ time she moved on. She’s movin’ on.”
I stared at him and said nothing. This was because I didn’t have to try to read his mood and tone. He was frustrated, tired, impatient and over it.
I was shocked.