Love Reimagined

by Delancey Stewart

  Sam: I’d say my place, but…

  Me: I’m so sorry, Sam.

  Sam: Office?

  Me: Sure. When?

  Sam: Seven?

  Me: Deal.

  I ate dinner with my family, the mood between us strangely sweet and gentle after all that’d we had faced and almost lost. Despite the quiet goodness floating around us at home, I couldn’t seem to keep still.

  We’d begun reheating some of the food Mom had maniacally put in the freezer, and were at the table when Dad shot me a meaningful look.

  “Pudding.”

  I snapped out of a daze I hadn’t even realized I was in. “Sorry, what?”

  “You’re causing an earthquake.”

  My leg had been bouncing up and down, nerves jittering through my body as I anticipated going to the Palmer offices to meet Sam. “Sorry, Dad.” I stilled my bouncing leg and Dad took his hand off his water glass, which had been dancing across the table as I’d jostled it.

  “What’s up?” He asked. His voice was still hoarse from the smoke he’d inhaled, but he had begun to look more rested and relaxed.

  “I’m going to go talk to Sam in a few minutes.”

  “That poor boy,” Mom said. “I just feel awful for those two,” she continued, seeming to miss the point of my meeting and my nerves. “They’ve lost so much. First their mother and then their dad, and then Chance told me about the horrible thing that had happened with his fiancée down there in Sacramento…” She shook her head and wiped her eyes. Mom had been on the brink of tears every moment since the fire.

  “What did you just say?” My mind finally skipped past the event on my own horizon. “About Chance? A fiancée?”

  She nodded solemnly. “He told me about it just a week or so ago. His grad school girlfriend. They were going to be married.”

  “I don’t think even Sam knows about that,” I said, doubting that Sam would have suggested I had a shot with his brother if he’d had any idea he’d just lost someone. My heart, already so raw and exposed, ached for Chance.

  “What happened, Mom?”

  “A car accident, I think. Just after his father died.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  The tears had begun to streak my mother’s soft face again, so I let the topic slide away, not wanting to see her cry any more. When the clock finally ticked toward seven, I rose. “I have to go.”

  “Drive safe, honey,” Dad said, and he stood to kiss my cheek and walk me to the door. “Love you.”

  It was a strange positive outcome of a horrific event, but the fire had led us all to spend more time ensuring we told those around us what they meant to us. Even Adele had been friendly when I’d dropped by the diner the day before.

  I drove my little truck through the village, my heart slowly accelerating as I neared the Palmer office. Sam’s red truck was parked out front, and I could see the light glowing through the high window in his office.

  I stepped through the door of the office, feeling more nervous than I had since I’d had to climb onto that stage at the prom. I could hardly believe the same butterflies that had been so mindlessly devoted to Chance Palmer for so many years were willing to shift their loyalty so easily to his brother Sam. I guess I could understand where they were coming from. I’d done the same thing.

  The office was lit in a warm glow by the single lamp on my desk, and the light shining into the lobby from Sam’s open door.

  “Hello?” I called, closing the front door behind me.

  Sam appeared in his office doorway, almost stumbling as he crossed the threshold. He looked nervous, crossing his arms and grinning at me with a lock of hair falling into his eyes. “Hi,” he said, then cleared his throat. “It’s good, um, I mean…” He uncrossed his arms and shoved a hand through the hair in his face. “I’m glad you’re here.” He stopped moving and just stood looking at me.

  I felt my face flame red and was suddenly aware of my own hands, which had nowhere to go. I tried to shove my car keys into my bag, and naturally, missed. They fell to the floor in a jangling heap, and I was almost relieved to have a task to focus on, even if picking up my keys would only take a second.

  I stood back up and faced Sam. “You’re doing okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Come in.” He stepped back into his office, and waved toward the couch against the wall.

  When we were both sitting, facing each other, silence settled around us, heavy with expectation.

  “I’m so sorry about your house,” I said, unable to look him in the face for some reason. I stared at my hands, which acknowledged my heartfelt gaze by twitching in my lap.

  “Yeah,” Sam said, and it was almost a sigh. “I mean, it’s okay. It’s not, but…we’ve got rooms at the Inn.”

  “Oh,” I managed.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Why is this so weird?” I asked, figuring the uncomfortable air between might dissipate if we acknowledged it. “I’m all discombobulated and anxious.” I tucked a leg beneath me, still unable to meet Sam’s eye.

  “I know,” he said, his voice low. “I am too.” The timbre of his voice was sandy and smoky, and though it was also familiar, the feelings it brought to life inside me were not. I was giddy and jumpy, hot and nervous. I didn’t know what to do with my fingers, my eyes. I could barely breathe.

  How the hell were we ever going to be able to talk if I couldn’t even figure out how to breathe? Doubt began to creep in. This was Sam, for God’s sake. Maybe we were both nuts to believe anything could actually work between us. We’d had too many years of being at odds.

  I stared at my fingers in my lap, twisting around each other.

  “This might help.” That voice stirred me up again, but I didn’t lift my eyes. That’s why it took me completely off guard when suddenly Sam was there, on his knees in front of me. He reached out a hand and cupped my jaw, and I dared a glance at him. His eyes were dark, his mouth slightly open. His gaze fell to my mouth and he leaned in. Sam didn’t hesitate, he’d ignored the awkward tension between us, and I heard him inhale sharply just before his lips touched mine, and in that instant, everything else disappeared.

  I felt Sam’s other hand wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me farther into him, into the kiss. The heat created by our lips pressing softly together melted into me, slowly trickling through my torso, my limbs. And as I opened my lips to Sam’s teasing tongue, the frazzled tension inside me dissipated, replaced immediately by a different kind of tension. I pressed my body into Sam, slipping to the floor so that we were both on our knees, our bodies molding together, hands pulling the other nearer. In that kiss, I said so many things I’d been too nervous to admit to Sam, I told him how much I’d been wrong about, how blind I’d been for so long.

  After a few long blissful minutes, his hands still cupping my face, Sam pulled away. His chest rose and fell, and his eyes stayed on mine, dark and deep. But the slow silly grin that spread gradually across his face was familiar in contrast to this new sexy version of the boy I’d grown up alongside. It was Sam, and while the parts of me that had been nervous coming in here threatened to spring back to the surface, now that familiarity was mixed with something else—a deep attraction and a desire to get to know what lay behind the familiar exterior.

  “Sam, I—” I started, but Sam’s mouth collided with mine again. This time the kiss was urgent and hot, but it was over quickly, and then Sam was pulling me to my feet, laughing.

  “Okay,” he said, his grin anchoring me to him. “Now we can talk.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, my hand still folded in his as we sat.

  “I owe you an apology,” I said, holding his gaze and feeling the confidence of our mutual desire pushing me to be truthful. “For so much.”

  The grin dropped in wattage, but one side of his mouth stayed curled up in a sexy smile and he laughed. “You don’t,” he said.

  “I was so oblivious. For so long.” I hated thinking about all the t
ime I’d wasted, staring after Chance. I’d been like a silly girl in a jewelry store, unable to see the value of a gorgeous handcrafted piece because I was too busy being blinded by the diamonds. “It’s just, we’ve known each other so long, Sam, and I thought I knew exactly what I wanted.”

  “Hey,” Sam interrupted me. “What do you want now?”

  I held his gaze, my heart swelling as I stared at the boy who’d been there my entire life, and I realized that was exactly why he was where I was meant to be. Sam had always been there. He’d stood by as I fumbled through my life, picking me up when I fell down (even if he chuckled as he did it), and setting me back on my path. He’d stood by and waited patiently, steadfast and loyal.

  “I think I want you.” I heard the amazement in my voice, and saw the light dim slightly in Sam’s eyes.

  “You think, huh?” His grip on my hand lessened and he sat up straighter, putting space between us.

  “But you told me you were going to leave Kings Grove. And now that your house is gone…” my voice faded as I thought about the reality of Sam leaving town.

  “Things change,” he said. “Anything can change.” He dropped my hand and my gaze, and a chill washed through me.

  I wanted to fill the space between us again, replace the warmth with something, eradicate the void. But Sam cleared his throat and then spoke again.

  “Miranda, I’ve known you my whole life. And I’ve had a crush on you almost as long.”

  My heart swelled, but I was afraid to hope. If Sam left, I wasn’t sure what would be left here for me.

  “And I’ve waited for you to figure it out, to decide that maybe the nice guy was the guy you wanted.” He took a breath, meeting my eyes again. “But I’m tired of waiting, Miranda. I know there’s something between us, and I know it could be more. People don’t develop the kind of aggravation we share, they don’t drive each other batty like we do, if there’s nothing there.”

  His words lingered in my mind and I turned them over, examining them for truth.

  “Miranda,” he said, pulling my eyes back to his and putting a soft hand beneath my chin. “I love you. I always have. And I don’t want to wait for you anymore. I don’t want to stand by and be the nice guy hoping to win the girl. I’m sitting here now, asking you, right now—do you want to be with me? Do you see a future for us? Because if you do, that changes everything.

  “If you think we might share a future together, might have something worth keeping, then I have no reason to leave Kings Grove.”

  “But your house…” I had no idea why I was looking for reasons for him to go. My heart was rebelling inside my chest, absorbing his words, testing them for truth. And finding them valid.

  “I know some guys in construction,” he said, the lips curling into that sexy half smile again. “The house isn’t an issue. Besides, maybe it’s time Chance and I each have our own house.”

  Still unable to form actual intelligent words, I began nodding, my hands reaching for Sam again.

  “Miranda,” he said. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me it’s worth the risk. Is there something here? Am I crazy to think there is?”

  I went from wild nodding to erratic head shaking, and finally found my tongue again. “No. No, definitely no.”

  “No?” Sam pulled his hand from mine, dropped his palm from my chin.

  “No, you’re not crazy,” I clarified, taking his hand back. “You’re not crazy. This thing between us—” I motioned between us, “—this is probably crazy. But maybe that’s why it makes so much sense. And it took me so long to realize it, and I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing to me.”

  “But I am…you’ve been there for me. My whole life, you’ve been here, and I was too blind to realize it. I mean, even in high school. And,” I felt myself flush again, and cringed as I realized what was about to come out of my mouth. But he’d been a part of the most humiliating moment I could remember, and I needed to know how to think about that in the context of this new reality between us. “I mean, you were there in the shed…and on that stage…” I broke eye contact and shook my head. The shame I felt was so familiar, and I’d felt it for so long I couldn’t shake it off.

  “Miranda, it’s okay.” His voice was soft, and he squeezed my hand.

  “When everyone else was laughing at me, you were there, you were trying to help up on that stage. And you never told me about the shed because…”

  “Because I would have had to tell you why I was there.”

  “But you were there…for me.” It wasn’t a question really, but I needed to put all the events I thought had defined me into context. To understand Sam’s real role in them.

  I raised my gaze to his, and the warmth I saw in his eyes gave me comfort.

  “I was there because I was in love with you.” Sam sighed. “My feelings for you aren’t new, Miranda. I’ve loved you since high school. Maybe longer. Maybe I fell in love with you that day when I watched the way you scrambled around on the floor in first grade trying to rescue those goldfish.”

  I scooted closer to Sam on the couch, looking at our hands connected on my lap and letting his words warm me. “I don’t care about high school, about the past. I just don’t want you to leave now. I want to see what this is between us, to have a chance together.”

  “You do?” Sam’s voice was husky and low.

  “I was distracted, Sam. I was stupid and confused, and I’m so sorry. But when you were back there in the fire, when I thought you might not come back, I realized I needed to tell you. Even with the licorice—”

  “The licorice?”

  “The awful licorice,” I said. “Even with the licorice, I still love you. I think maybe I always have.”

  The grin broke out again, and my heart leapt. I pressed myself into his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Just tell me you’re going to stay,” I said.

  “I’ll stay,” he said, smiling down at me. “I’ll stay forever if I get to be with you.”

  Sam pressed his lips to mine again, and we fell backwards onto the couch, and for the next few hours, we were a tangle of limbs and lips, and hands and heat. And there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

  Chapter 28

  Miranda

  The house was dark when I arrived home that night, and I tiptoed through the door, feeling a sense of mystified rightness. It was crazy to me in so many ways that just days ago, my entire world was falling apart and everything felt so wrong. And now, especially tonight, everything felt completely solid and cohesive. If someone had told me years ago—or even days ago—that Sam Palmer and I would fall in love, that we’d maybe always been in love, I would have told them they were nuts. But now? I’d never felt like anything had ever made more sense. The smile smeared across my face felt good, and my heart felt light.

  “There you are,” my mother said, her voice echoing out of the mostly dark room. I jumped and my hand flew to my heart. I hadn’t seen her sitting there in the corner, bent over her planner with her multicolored pens spread around her on the table.

  “You scared the crap out of me, Mom!” I walked to where she sat, looking around in confusion. Something had changed, but I wasn’t sure exactly what it was. “What are you doing up?’

  She was giving me a very smug look, and I had the feeling she knew exactly what had kept me out so late. “Should I ask you the same question?”

  “I’d rather if you didn’t.”

  “How’s Sam Palmer?”

  I couldn’t help the grin that popped back onto my face. I wanted to tell her that I loved him, that I was the happiest girl in the world, that it felt like the universe had shifted overnight and now I could see it in ways I’d never seen it before. But I wasn’t about to tell my mother all the things I’d just done with Sam on the couch in his office. “He’s good,” I said instead.

  Mom smiled up at me, and I could see that I didn’t need to explain anything. She already knew.

  My mother stood up and closed her pl
anner, scooping up the pens and depositing them on top of the book. That was when I realized what was different. The puzzle was completed beneath her work on the table. Staring out from the center of the finished tableau was a picture of our house, with my family standing in front of it. The picture had been taken when I was only four, and my hair was wild and curly and sticking up in every direction. My mom had the puzzle made soon after the picture was taken, and it had been on this table for the last few years at least—since one of us had gotten the idea to do it and then abandoned it somewhere along the way. It was amazing no pieces were missing. “You finished the puzzle,” I said.

  “We did. Your dad and I did it before he turned in tonight.”

  I studied our faces as they looked back up at us from the tabletop. We looked happy. We looked young. “I love this picture,” I said,

  Mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tilted her head to touch mine. “Me too.”

  “What have you been doing, Mom? Planning?”

  She turned her head and grinned at me. “Angela Snow called this evening,” she said. “She wants me to take a weekly spot on their new morning show. They’re extending for an hour after Good Morning Kings Grove to do a lifestyle show, and they want someone to give household tips on everything from organization to goal setting.” Mom blushed and then added. “She called me. Even after SheetGate.”

  “Mom! That’s amazing.” I hadn’t thought I could possibly feel happier, but my chest swelled and joy made me throw my arms around my mother and squeeze her tightly. “You’ll be perfect for that.”

  A moment of doubt crossed her features as she pulled back to look at me. “Well,” she said. “No one is really perfect, but I’m going to do the best I can.”

  “You’ll do great, Mom.”

  We stood together looking at the puzzle for a minute longer, and then Mom squeezed my hand and said goodnight.

  I went upstairs feeling like everything in my life had grown and evolved, and I couldn’t wait to go to work the next morning.

  Chapter 29

  Sam