I folded it, slipped it into the envelope, licked the flap and sealed it. Then I wrote Sam’s name on the front and set it on the island.
I did this deep breathing. I’d cried enough the last four days while avoiding Luci, letting the one call Sam made go to voicemail, making plans and packing. I couldn’t afford more tears. I had a trip ahead of me with Memphis in tow, I needed my wits about me and I needed energy. Tears were exhausting.
I turned to Memphis who was sitting on the floor beside me, unusually silent as she had been for the last four days. She sensed her Momma’s mood, she sensed her Momma didn’t want to talk and she was a good dog.
“Before you know it, sweetie, we’ll be home,” I whispered as I was about to bend to pick her up but I caught something out of the corner of my eye and focused on it.
Damn.
Skip.
Just like he did the one and only time he came calling, he barged right up to and through the two front doors.
I bent, picked up Memphis and met him in the living room.
“You and Sam movin’? What’s the deal?” he asked by way of greeting.
I had no idea why he was there but I knew he saw the moving van.
“Sam’s not moving, I am,” I told him, walking right by him to Memphis’s crate.
“Say again?” Skip asked my back.
I turned to him and repeated, “Sam’s not moving, I am.”
Skip scowled at me then he looked around the space before his eyes came back to me and he asked, “Where’s Sam?”
“I have no idea,” I whispered, bent to the crate and gently placed an unresisting Memphis in it.
“Shit,” I heard Skip whisper in return. This surprised me, Skip wasn’t the kind of man who whispered so after I hooked the gate on Memphis’s crate I straightened and turned to him. He didn’t delay when he caught my eyes. “Is he still doin’ that shit?” he asked quietly.
So Skip knew about “that shit”.
Whatever.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t know what he’s doing. I don’t know where he is. All I know is one minute he was here, the next minute he was gone, off to locations unknown to do stuff unknown.”
“Kia –” Skip started and I shook my head.
“I know you’re gruff and rough and speak your mind but, no offense, Skip, this is not the time and this is also none of your business.”
“Don’t give up on him,” Skip said softly, surprising me again with his tone and the intent way he was looking at me.
Seriously, I couldn’t do this now, I didn’t have the time.
And seriously, I couldn’t do this now or ever, I didn’t have the strength left to do it.
“Skip, please, this is none of your business.”
“I told you, never seen a love like what Gordo had with Luci. I’ll also tell you, closest thing to it was how Sam was with you that night at the Shack,” Skip replied.
Oh God.
Seriously! I couldn’t do this!
“You have to stop, Skip, I can’t do this. And you have to go. The car is coming to take me to the airport, it’s going to be here soon and I need to secure the house and get Memphis and my bags to the drive.”
Skip ignored me totally.
“Didn’t think Sam could be like that. Not with anyone.”
Suddenly, my hands shot up and I pressed the pads of my fingers to my forehead hard.
Then I jerked them away, twisted them palm out and pressed them toward Skip, begging, “Please, stop. I can’t do this.”
Skip’s leathery face, if it could be believed, got soft (ish).
“That boy’s endured a lot,” he told me gently.
“I know that,” I snapped harshly, scratching at anger in the hopes it would see me through.
“You need to have patience with him. Don’t give up. What I saw of him with you, girl, he’ll –”
I shook my head again and cut him off, “No, he won’t.”
His voice got firmer and more insistent. “You have to have patience, girl.”
“You don’t know!” I cried. “You don’t know how it’s been.”
He went back to soft and gentle when he agreed, “You’re right. I don’t. I still know you gotta have patience.”
I’d had enough.
Really, could you blame me?
“It isn’t lost on me he has demons, Skip. I’ve put it together. A man doesn’t leave a professional football career to join the Army when his brother dies unless something is there, something deep, something profound. He has not shared this with me. A man does not lose his best friend and look after that man’s widow unless the bond between them is so strong death can’t break it. I know this too. He has not shared about this with me either. I’ve asked. I’ve not asked and waited for him to talk to me. We’ve fought about it. But that isn’t it. There’s a big part of his life I have no idea about. He walks away from me to have phone conversations. He leaves to meet people. I ask about this too, he doesn’t answer. He’s determined to keep those demons locked inside him, Skip, and he’s determined to keep his secrets. And I know one thing for definite about Sam Cooper. When he’s determined to do something, he’s going to do it. I tried to live with it. I tried to accept it, but I can’t. And the reason I know I can’t is, he’s gone, Skip, and it is also not lost on me that he’s not off on a goodwill mission to bring water, food and medication to drought stricken areas of Africa. He took his f**king passport. And he’s somewhere far away doing something dangerous. I know it. I’m not stupid. And I don’t have to know everything but I have to know something so I can be prepared. I deserve that. And if he loved me, he’d give me that. Whatever he’s doing means something could happen to the man I love and he should love me enough to let me decide if I want to live with that fear. And I’ll tell you what I would tell him if he’d loved me enough to give me the choice. The answer would be yes. But he should love me enough to allow me to make an informed choice, accept it and to help me learn how to live with it and prepare for the possibility that I whatever he’s doing may make me Luci. I’ve given him everything, Skip, and he’s given me so much it isn’t funny. But he’s kept important things locked away. That isn’t right. It isn’t fair. And it isn’t what a healthy relationship is based on. I can’t do it. I want it all and he won’t give it all. I asked for it and he told me I can’t have it. He told me it’s my decision and he’s right, it is so I’m making it.”