"Tessa just came by to tell me about Grams," Sam interrupted. "Phoebe woke up for a little while. That's good news."
"Then we should celebrate with ice cream," Megan replied.
Sam couldn't help but laugh. "My daughter has a one-track mind."
His comment drew a reluctant smile from Tessa. "Her mother's daughter?"
"Oh, yeah."
And they shared a connection that took him back to a time and a place where they'd always known what the other was going to say before it was said.
Megan jumped between them, grabbed Tessa's hand, and pulled her into the house as Sam slowly followed. "Can I get you some ice cream?" he asked Tessa as he walked into the kitchen.
"No, thanks. I don't eat ice cream."
"Since when?"
"Since a long time ago. The camera adds pounds. I can't afford any extra."
"I think you look too thin," he said as he put two scoops of ice cream in a bowl for Megan.
Her face tightened at his blunt comment. "A model can never be too thin."
"Right." He still thought she looked like a good stiff wind might blow her away. But he knew that discussing weight with a woman would only end in disaster. He gave Megan her ice cream, then sat down in the chair across from Tessa, keeping Megan between them. "How long are you staying in town?"
"As long as Grams needs me."
"You don't have any pressing business?"
"I do, but Grams is more important." She drew an idle circle on top of the tablecloth with the tip of her rosy pink fingernail.
Sam watched the graceful but nervous movement for a long minute. "Phoebe must have been happy to see you when she opened her eyes."
Tessa shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure I even registered. I didn't know what to do when she couldn't talk. I sort of panicked. Then Alli walked in and took over."
"You saw Mommy?" Megan asked, as she quickly downed the ice cream.
"Yes."
"Mommy said I could stay up until she got home."
"She did not say that," Sam said sternly. "In fact, you need to do your math problems. Why don't you get started on them upstairs, and I'll be up in a minute to help you."
"Now?" Megan whined.
"Now." He smiled at Tessa as Megan left the kitchen. "She can think up more excuses to stall than anyone I know."#p#分页标题#e#
"You're a good dad."
"Thank you. But it's not hard to be good for fifteen minutes. You should have seen us a while ago. Megan told me she didn't like me anymore and she wanted her mommy."
"She didn't say that."
"She did. But we both knew she didn't mean it." He paused for a moment. "Are you all right, Tessa?"
"I don't know. I think I've been awake too long." It was a prevarication, but she wasn't sure what else to say.
"You should go home, get some sleep."
"I will. I don't really like being in Grams's house alone, though. There are so many memories there, and when I look in her room, I can see her, and I can hear her, and it scares me that she might not be there again."
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, and her emotions almost bubbled over. She hadn't cried in years, but Lord, she felt like giving in, letting down. And Sam's gentle touch on her hand was almost too much.
She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, wishing she'd had the courage to ask him the question that had driven her from the hospital to his house. But how could she ask him straight out—Do you still love me? How could she do that, sitting here in his house, the house he'd bought with Alli, and with her sister's daughter upstairs waiting for her father? However Sam felt about her now wasn't important.
Tessa got to her feet and stretched her arms over her head.
"I should go."
Sam stood up as well. "You never did tell me what Alli said to you."
"It's late. I don't want to get into that now."
He stepped forward. "Are you sure? If you have something to say…"
He was so close, tall, strong, real. It would be easy to move into his arms, rest her head on his shoulder the way she'd done a thousand times. This was Sam, her Sam. When she looked into his eyes, she saw the boy she'd once loved more than anyone on earth.
"What happened to us?" she murmured. "How did we let it go so easily?"
His expression filled with guilt. She wondered if he would ever look at her with any other emotion.
"Oh, Tessa," he muttered. "I'm sorry."
She didn't know if he was apologizing for the past or apologizing for now, but it didn't matter, because somehow her feet were moving and her arms were sliding around his neck and her head was resting on his shoulder, the cotton fabric of his T-shirt warm against her cheek.