Sam shared Anthony's story as she skipped happily beside her brother, completely unaware of his exhaustion. He placated her by pretending interest, keeping her entertained with questions and asking her opinions on work related matters, wondering where she had managed to summon the level of energy she was demonstrating. He withheld a sigh of relief when his cell phone rang at 9:30.
“Hey, it’s me. When are you two coming home? You have work tomorrow.”
“Thank God it's you. I swear, Dad, the kid has managed to wear me out. She can never accuse me of not being the best brother in the world after tonight. Sammi? Are you ready to go home? It’s Dad.”
“Do we have to?” she whined. “It's still early.”
“Tell her ‘yes’. You can blame me,” Dr. Quimby said, hearing his daughter in the background. “Did you also let her exhaust your savings account?”
“Pretty close. She had fun, though. She’s looking in another store now. How the hell did you handle this with Mom? I can’t keep up with her shopping escapades.”
“I tried to just hand her the credit card and tell her to go and have fun,” Dr. Quimby said. “Of course, your mom didn’t like shopping alone and dragged one of us with her to suffer. Scott used that time to pick up girls.”
“Trust me, I got some numbers. Here she is. Sam? Please, let’s go home. You can drive; I’m beat, hon.”
Dr. Quimby laughed, as he heard the loud, happy squeal, and ordered them to be careful, before hanging up. Michael sighed, handing Sam the keys.
“You’re really going to let me drive your car? Wow, you MUST be tired.” Sam snatched them from him and began to trot towards the parking spot.
“Slow down and wait for me, kid. I am either completely exhausted or totally insane. You scratch it and you are dead meat,” Michael warned. “So, how long are you going to hide your little secret from them?”
“Oh, I already have a strong defense if I need it. You won’t get in trouble for letting me do it, will you?”
“Probably, but I don't care. Making you happy is worth getting yelled out now and then. I haven’t seen you have this much fun in a while. You actually were acting like a teenager. It was nice,” he admitted, settling in the passenger's seat and closing his eyes.
“Thank you so much for taking me out and doing this. Of course, I know I’ll be paying you back for a long time,” Sam stated as she took a sharp turn and glanced over as he grasped the edge of the seat.
“Please slow down!” Michael begged. “Can’t I just take my baby sister out for dinner and shopping without suspicion?”
“I know you too well, Michael. But I'm okay with it. Just let me know what you need me to do. As for my secret, as far as I’m concerned, Scott gave his permission.”
* * * * *
“YOU DID WHAT?” Dr. Quimby roared. Michael bit his lip and tried to ignore the slight shaking in his knees, as his sister grabbed his arm and hid behind him. His father’s face was red with rage, neck vein pulsing. Scott stood calmly next to him, hands on his hips, also waiting for an explanation. They’d both caught a glimpse of the new belly button ring, which Sam unsuccessfully tried to hide, while sunbathing.
“I gave her my consent, since she asked me for it. I made sure the place was clean and supervised it. She’s 18 and could have done it without my knowledge, but she didn’t. I felt that she exercised maturity in coming to me.” Michael tried to remain calm, reminding himself that he was no longer a child and had no reason to be afraid of his father’s rare outbursts anymore.
“Daddy, please don’t yell at Mike. This is my fault,” Sam requested softly, clinging to her brother's wrist as she peeked out from under his arm.
“Front and center, young lady. NOW,” Dr. Quimby commanded. Hesitating, the girl obeyed. She also tried to hide her trembling. “Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?”
“Well,” she started; ready to use her secret weapon. “It makes me feel pretty and Uncle Scott told me to do whatever I needed to feel that way. He also told Michael to buy me something nice, too. It is beautiful, don’t you think? I swear, it didn't hurt a bit and the guy said I had the perfect shape for it,” she said, before lifting her shirt to show them. The crystal glittered in the sunlight.
“Samantha, when I told you that, I meant clothes or shoes or something normal, not this,” Scott said patiently.
“You don't like it?” she asked him, tears welling in her eyes.
He sighed, nodding. “Don't you start crying. It's lovely, darling, but you knew how your dad would react. We went through this when you got your ears pierced. Please, no tears. Damn it. Joe, it’s not like it’s permanent. She can take out the thing if it’s that big of a deal.” Scott caved as a single fat tear rolled slowly down Sam's smooth cheek.
“I wouldn’t have given my permission for something like a tattoo, Dad. Please don’t be so angry. It IS pretty,” Michael pleaded, as he pulled his sister against his body when she began to cry softly with disappointment.
“Not for my daughter. Absolutely not. And I know crocodile tears when I see them. Enough, Samantha,” Dr. Quimby growled, unaffected by the display.
“Why don’t you two go take a walk for an hour or so and give Dad a chance to calm down,” Scott suggested, nodding towards the back door.
“Okay, bye,” Michael said quickly, grabbing his sister’s hand and dragging her out back and down to the beach. The two walked along the surf silently for a few minutes when Michael finally spoke. “He looked like he was going to blow a fuse.”
“I know. I thought he was going to haul off and smack you. I think he was angrier with you than me. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it seems. He probably thinks that I overstepped my bounds with giving consent. I should have been more responsible,” came the regretful response.
“Excuse me? Michael, look at me,” Sam demanded, stopping to stare up at him. “How well do you know me?”
“As well as I know myself. Why?”
“Then answer this question. Would telling me ‘no’ keep me from doing what I wanted? I’m 18 now, I could have just hauled off and done it without your approval. I mean, how many times did you try to talk me out of it?”
“That word, ‘no’, has never been a favorite of yours, that’s for sure.”
“So, in essence, the reality of things is that you assured my safety by giving your consent and supporting my decision. You inspected the shop, liked the guy and purchased a high quality ring. That’s more responsible than leaving me to my own devices.”
“They were wrong. YOU should have been an attorney. Thanks, little sister,” he smiled, hugging her. “It’s so funny. I’m 22 years old, 6’3” tall, a good solid 210 pounds, black belt in four disciplines in martial arts and a Marine Corps Special Forces officer. And I still want to run out of reach when my father gets mad at me.”
“Why do you think I still hide behind you? You’re a rock solid fortress. I honestly don't understand what the big deal is.”
“It’s one of his hang ups, that’s all. He’s like that about this type of thing. Don’t worry, Scott will straighten it out. He always does in situations like this.”
Back at the house Scott watched his friend pace the floor, yelling about disrespect and assumptions. After ten minutes of the ranting, Scott put his hand on his friend’s chest. “Okay, that's enough. You can stop it now with the ridiculous overreacting. There is no doubt you can still scare the living hell out of that boy, but why? You know damn well that your daughter would have found a way to get that thing with or without our knowledge. Be grateful Mike was there to at least watch over her. You’re being a complete asshole about this.”
“Aren’t you in the least bit pissed? She manipulated it so that it sounded as though you gave her permission!”
“And that surprises you?” Scott wrinkled his forehead. “I wasn’t expecting this, but then, with her, I’m not shocked. I’m just glad she didn’t try to get a tattoo.”
“Yet.”
&nb
sp; “Yet. The day may come and she will use both of us as examples. After all, we both are inked.”
“Only because you made me,” Dr. Quimby glowered.
“Rite of passage for our families. Our dads had them, we got them and I’m surprised Mike hasn’t asked about getting the dragon yet.”
“Probably because his little sister will want one, too. I know he's a good kid and he really goes all out for her. He always has. I just can't believe he didn't try to talk her out of it,” Dr. Quimby sighed.
“I am certain that he tried, but she is her mother's daughter with the stubborn persistence inherited from both our families. Joe, you need to relax. That boy has sacrificed a lot for his sister. Give him some credit, okay?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Should we just let this one go?”
“I think so. Seriously, it was not bad enough for you to blow your cool. There are far worse things she could have done and you know it. Are you okay now?”
“Yes, thanks. You never had to worry about this stuff with Allyson. They didn’t do belly button piercings back then,” Dr. Quimby said, plopping on the couch and rubbing his head.
“No, but I did yank her little ass out of a tattoo parlor once. She said it wasn’t fair that all us guys had one and she didn’t.”
“I don’t remember that. When did that happen?” Dr. Quimby looked confused. He had known the Jenkins family all his life.
Scott laughed. “Shortly after you started medical school and got your dragon. Yep, she got blistered for that little act of defiance. And for her colorful language. It blows me away how much Sam is like her. It’s almost déjà vu for me.”
“I wonder if things would have been different if she was still with us. I really miss her, Scott.”
“Me too. But I’m glad that our girl keeps our memories of her alive. Things I wouldn’t ordinarily think of, too.”
“I know that I need to laugh more. I’m still so scared for her. I’m so afraid she’s going to do something to push herself over the edge and that I won't be there to protect her.”
“I know, but we can’t expect her to live in a bubble. We’ll get through this together, I promise. No more yelling, okay? That's my job in this house.” Scott punched his arm. “Here they come.”
Michael hesitated before opening the sliding glass door and stepping into the house with his sister hiding, once again, behind his back.
“Kids, come in. Sit down, please,” Dr. Quimby said, seeing fear on their faces and feeling guilty. “Listen, I’m sorry that I overreacted. Michael, thank you for looking out for her. Knowing our little angel, she probably would have found a way to sneak around you anyway. Samantha? Promise me that you won’t do a tattoo without talking with us first, okay?”
“I will want the dragon one day. I deserve it as much as the rest of you,” she announced, chin high.
Her father nodded with a reluctant sigh. “I figured as much. Just don’t sneak, please? This particular design is very unique to our family and something that doesn’t disappear. We need to make certain that it is done correctly.”
“I plan on waiting to get mine at the same time that she gets hers. I don't want you to feel left out,” Michael said to Sam, as he squeezed her hand before standing.
“You’re afraid of it hurting, that’s all,” his sister teased lovingly.
Michael shook his head. “See? I’m nice to her and she still picks on me. I’ll never win.”
“But, you’re fun to pick on! You’re my big bother. It's my right.”
“Don’t you mean ‘brother’?” Michael asked.
She shook her head, standing on the couch to kiss his cheek and swing her arms around his neck. “Nope, I meant bother. But I love you anyway. Carry me,” she commanded as she plopped into his arms.
He hoisted her up with ease. “Where do you want to go?” He nuzzled her affectionately. His father and Scott started laughing.
“You will never tire of playing with your present, will you?” Scott asked, rubbing his hand over Michael’s hair.
“I hope not. But what am I supposed to do with it?”
“Let’s take it down to the beach and walk some,” Dr. Quimby suggested, slipping on his sneakers.
Sam grinned, her arms wrapped tightly around her brother’s neck as he carried her down the stairs. She snuggled under his chin. “I love having my own pack mule,” she commented as they walked along the surf line.
Michael raised his eyebrow. “You do? Well, let’s see about that.” He waded in thigh deep and tossed her into the water.
“Hey! I’m not supposed to get the ring wet yet!” she shrieked, a wave dunking her. She stood up, hands on her hips and glaring at her laughing family.
“Too bad, so sad,” Michael teased. “You look like a drowned rat.”
“No, more like a redheaded Yorkshire terrier,” Dr. Quimby chuckled, holding his hand out to help her out of the water. She took it, twisted and sent him flying into the next set of waves. He scowled, pulling himself to his feet. “That was mean, daughter.”
“Comparing me to a yappy dog wasn’t very nice either, father dear,” Sam remarked as she backed away from his reach. She caught the expression on his face; he was not satisfied with the turn of events. He lunged and Sam bolted, shrieking as she ran with him hot on her heels. His long legs quickly overtook her and he dove to catch her legs and tackle her onto the sand. By the time Michael and Scott joined them, the father and daughter were engaged in a full sparring match, and attracting cheering onlookers.
“That was a good block, but he turned too far to the left. Could have lost balance. Ooo, nice throw, Dad,” Michael observed, squatting to watch closely. He knew his sister's moves, every expression and every twitch. He frowned. She was transitioning into combat mode and was out to win. Poor Dad.
“OW!” Dr. Quimby yelled as Sam's foot landed squarely on his thigh, knocking him backwards. “Chill out, kid! We’re sparring, not trying to kill each other. HEY!”
He ducked a swing, grabbing at her leg and catching air. She was incredibly fast and her small size was deceptive, offering a tiny target. Sam dove behind him and caught the back of his knees, knocking him down before pouncing on his chest with her arm across his throat. Dr. Quimby mistakenly believed his size to be an advantage at that point, and flipped her easily over his head. He did not anticipate her next move, which left his head locked between her strong legs.
“Oh shit, that’s her death move. Okay, you guys, that’s enough. Sam won this match,” Michael called, pulling his sister away. He brushed her off as Scott helped Dr. Quimby to his feet.
“Good match. I hate to tell you, buddy, but she kicked your ass this time. She could have snapped your neck like a stalk of celery,” Scott stated, sounding impressed.
“She sure did. Where did you learn those moves, little girl?” Dr. Quimby asked, brushing sand off his arms and inspecting his bruises. Sam looked completely unaffected except for a slight sand rash on her chin and being covered with white sand.
“I have a great trainer and sparring partner. You okay? I got you good.”
“You’re lucky I was holding back,” he grumbled.
“You were? It looked like you were going full force, Dad,” Michael teased.
Scott cuffed him on the back of the head, pleased to hear a yelp. “Stop messing with his ego. The old fart already has to face the fact that he was beat up by a midget.”
“A girl midget,” Michael snickered.
“At least he knows I can take good care of myself. Right, Daddy?”
“I would hate to face you in combat, my dear. I am very pleased with your progress.” He sounded proud as he knuckled Michael on top of the head.
“Good. Then you have nothing to worry about when I go on my date tonight.”
Dead silence.
“Oh boy... I thought she already talked to you.” Michael eyed his sister, “We’re doubling, Dad. You’ll get to meet him when he comes over at 1900.”
“You�
�re too young.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Daddy, I’m 18. You have got to stop being so overprotective! Please! I’ve never been on a date and Michael will be there with me the entire time. We are just going to dinner then walking around. I told him he would have to meet you and Scott first.”
“No. And don't roll your eyes at me.”
“Daddy, please listen.” She put her arms around his waist with her chin on his chest, and looked up into his eyes. “I’m not a baby anymore. You need to let me do normal things. It’s just dinner. If it was Major Fox, you wouldn’t have a problem, and he’s OLD.”
“I’ve known Jim for over ten years, Samantha. He is a good friend of this family. I don’t know this kid.”
“He’s not a kid. He’s 23, and a year older than Michael,” she said quietly.
Scott stepped in. “Absolutely not. No way. He is much too old for you!”
“Do you mind if I ask how old Mom was when she started going out with Daddy?” the girl asked gently.
Scott started to bristle. “I wasn’t happy about that either, but I trusted your father to be a gentleman with her.”
“Our first unofficial date was when she was 16. I was 20,” Dr. Quimby said softly. He looked at Scott. “Sorry, I lied to you when I told you we started dating when she was 18.”
“I already knew. I was okay with it. Better you than some loser,” Scott smiled sincerely. “But this is about Samantha and some stranger. It's not just your body, Sam; it's your heart. Neither of us wants to see you get hurt.”
“I know, and I love you for it. But it's something that could happen and you can't protect me forever. I promise both of you that I’ll be careful. Please, just meet him and if you honestly don’t like him, then I won’t go. Deal?” she asked patiently.
“You mean that?” Dr. Quimby asked, stroking her hair.
She nodded, hugging him tightly. “Of course, I mean it. You will always come before an outsider. All of you will.”
* * * * *
Dr. Quimby paced the living room as she readied for her date. Michael watched him, amused. “Dad, please try to calm down. I promise that I won't let her out of my sight. And be nice to this guy. He has no idea what he’s walking into. It isn't his fault that her siren song called to him.”
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