“YOU READY TO GO SEE your mama?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Sammy jumps up and down while waiting for me to open her door to the truck. Once she’s buckled in her car seat, I take my place behind the wheel and start the truck.
“Want to listen to some tunes?” I ask.
“Yes, please. Play the tunes we listened to yesterday!” she exclaims, clapping her hands.
“Classic rock, it is, m’lady.” I give her a wink, then plug my phone into the outlet before starting up the playlist she requested.
“Thank you, m’daddy.” She tries really hard to wink back at me and I swear, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
My heart still squeezes every time Sammy calls me “daddy”. Sometimes she’ll call me by my name but “daddy” seems to be winning out. I freaking love it. I had no idea what it’d feel like to be someone’s dad, but it’s the greatest feeling in the world, second only to when I was with Piper.
We’re well into our trip to Houma when our classic rock jam session is interrupted by a phone call.
Glancing at my phone, I see No Caller ID on the screen.
Speak of the devil.
“Hey, Sammy, you wanna answer my phone for me? Just slide your finger across the screen, then say hello.”
“Okay. I can do it.” I watch out of the corner of my eye as she grabs my phone from the console. She’s concentrating so much, her little tongue is sticking out but I make sure to stifle my amusement. I worry the call is going to go to voicemail before she answers but she manages to swipe the screen just in time. Quickly, I reach over and put the call on speakerphone.
“Hello? This is Sammy, who is this?”
Piper waits a few beats before answering. “Well, hello, Sammy. I’m Piper. Is Tucker busy?”
“Piper? You’re Daddy’s friend, huh? The one with brown hair,” she states matter of factly.
“That’s me. It’s nice to meet you. Are you having a good day?”
“Yes. Me and Daddy are drivin’ to see my mama at the hospital. That’s why I answered the phone. Daddy’s not supposed to talk on the phone while drivin’. It’s dangerous.”
“You’re right, it is. I’m glad you’re there to take care of your daddy.”
I hear the slight emphasis Piper puts on daddy and it makes me smile.
“Me too. He needs all the help he can get,” Sammy continues in a dramatic tone.
“Hey, now,” I interject. “Who told you that?”
“Uncle Deke,” she answers. “He even said to bless your heart.”
Piper’s laughter is loud and beautiful through the phone’s speaker, and I really wish I was hearing it in person. She’s never been one to show her playful, fun side to just anyone, or maybe she was more selective with me for some reason. Whatever the case, I quickly learned how rare and precious her laughs and giggles are and treasured each and every one she shared with me.
“Well, I won’t keep you,” Piper says, clearing her throat. “I can call back another time.”
“No, it’s fine. We’ve got a good ten miles left to drive. What’s up?” I ask.
“Just calling.”
It’s then that I hear something in her voice I don’t like—tired, weary. I’m sure, but I’m sure she won’t tell me what’s wrong knowing Sammy’s listening in.
“How’s your day goin’?” I ask, smiling over at Sammy who’s just enjoying the ride.
“Oh, you know, work,” Piper says with a sigh. “Don’t grow up, Sammy. You have to get a job and sometimes your boss is stinky.”
Sammy laughs, like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard all day. “He needs to take a shower!”
I wish Piper could see the way Sammy’s holding her nose, so she can get a full picture of the four-year-old humor.
“He does, Sammy. He definitely needs a shower.” Piper laughs again and I’m hoping that whatever’s going on, maybe this phone call will help.
I mean, Sammy is living sunshine.
“I’m glad I got to talk to you, Sammy,” Piper says. “Maybe we can hang out one of these days.”
“You should come to Nanny Annie’s. We’re having a tea party with Grandma Kay, Aunt Cami, and Aunt Dani,” Sammy says, listing off the people on her fingers. “Nanny Annie says we’re having fancy sandwiches and Aunt Dani’s making cookies!”
She gets more excited with each passing word.
“That sounds amazing. I wish I could come.” Piper sighs.
“You can!” Sammy speaks animatedly to the phone, like Piper can see her. Maybe we should FaceTime next time.
“Did you know Dani is my best friend?” Piper asks.
“I didn’t know that,” Sammy says, looking over at me. “Daddy didn’t tell me.”
“Well, she is. I’m glad she gets to hang out with you.”
“You should hang out too.”
“One of these days, Sammy.” The melancholy is back in Piper’s voice. “Well, it was great talking to you, but I’ve gotta go. My stinky boss needs me to run errands.”
“Tell him to take a shower!” Sammy yells out.
Piper laughs. “I’m gonna do that, Sammy. I hope you have a good visit with your mom.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” I say, before she gets a chance to hang up, hoping she’ll call back later when we can talk more.
“Yeah, we’ll talk later.”
The phone goes silent and I glance over to make sure the call ended.
“She’s nice,” Sammy says. “I like her. Maybe she wants to be my best friend, too.”
This time, it’s me who laughs.
“I bet she’d like that. You can ask her next time she calls.”
A vision of Piper and Sammy together hits me like a brick wall, nearly stealing my breath. What I wouldn’t give for that vision to be a reality, but I don’t know how. Would Piper even want something like that? Would she want what I have to offer?
I don’t know.
Everything has changed so much since Piper and I first started out—she’s changed, I’ve changed, my entire life has changed. But even before Sammy, I knew that my feelings for Piper were growing. Looking back, I was falling before I ever realized it. Maybe Piper was too. Maybe that’s where the struggle was coming from—both of us feeling the pull, but pushing it away because that’s not what we’d intended to happen.
There’re so many what ifs that float through my mind on a daily basis, but all I have time for are the right nows.
A few minutes later, we pull into the hospice facility and I say a silent prayer that Sophie is having a good day. Sammy needs it. After the talk I had with the nurse on the phone yesterday, I know that Sophie’s organs are shutting down and her vitals have been low. She encouraged me to come visit and bring Sammy.
I’m not stupid. I know what that means.
Taking a deep breath, I jump out of the truck and walk around to help Sammy out.
“Got your card for Mommy?” I ask.
“Yep.” Sammy holds up the pink card she made. It’s a little worse for wear, but Sophie will love it, regardless. “I hope she’s not sleeping today.”
“Me too, sunshine.”
Please Lord, let her have one more good day.
“Hello, Sammy. Tucker.” The nurse who’s always sitting outside of Sophie’s room greets us with a smile and I take that as a good sign.
“Hello,” Sammy says cheerfully. “I brought my mommy a card.”
“Oh, she’s gonna love that. Let’s see if she’s awake.” She gives me a small smile as Sammy goes into Sophie’s room.
“It’s a good day,” she whispers. “I’m glad you brought her.”
Sophie doesn’t look better. She’s lost weight, too much weight, and her eyes are practically sunk into her once-round face. But she’s still beautiful, especially when she smiles at Sammy.
“Mommy.” Sammy’s entire face lights up when she sees Sophie awake. Her bed is inclined enough that she’s almost sitting.
“Hey, baby girl.”
“I made this for you,” Sammy says, walking to the side of the bed.
“Get up here and tell me about it.” Sophie pats the bed beside her.
I walk over and help Sammy up, giving Sophie a smile.
Thank you, she mouths.
I shake my head, because I have no words and because I need no thanks.
Stepping back, I watch as Sammy and Sophie fall into perfect cadence. Sophie mostly listens as Sammy tells her about the card, and then she goes into a story about being at Sam and Annie’s last week when a huge butterfly landed on her arm. That’s where she got the inspiration for the card.
“I was gonna draw you a castle,” Sammy says. “But I thought you’d like a butterfly better. I’ll make you a castle next time.”
“I love it,” Sophie says.
I watch her work hard to school her emotions, trying to just be in this moment with Sammy.
There’s not much to her voice. It’s barely above a whisper. But talking to Sammy is a labor of love. She wants this. She wants these last moments.
“I’m gonna walk down and get some coffee,” I tell them, wanting to give them some space. “Can I get you anything?”
Sophie shakes her head as she reaches up and slowly runs a hand through Sammy’s curls.
She didn’t want a ponytail today. She needed a yellow headband to match her dress.
“Need anything, sunshine?”
“No, Daddy,” Sammy says and I see the look on Sophie’s face—something between shock and awe, but happy.
Leaving them to their talk, I walk out of the room and find a chair down the hall.