Misinterpreting Fate (Book 2)

21. Family Meeting

Chapter 21: Family Meeting

Sam

When Mrs. Helder dropped me off at my house, I was surprised to see Dad's car in the driveway next to Poppa's. He wasn't supposed to be home until Friday. Was it really that big of a deal that the principal gave me a warning for a fight I didn't even fight in?

When I walked through the door, Dad immediately called me into the living room. He sounded stressed, which made me even more worried. How much trouble was I in?

Entering the living room, I realized that he wasn't stressed about me. He and Poppa were sitting next to each other on one of the couches - Poppa sitting extra close to Dad in an almost protective way. Poppa actually looked downright pissed, but it wasn't me he was focusing his anger on. On the other couch sat my mother, with a little girl on her lap. The girl was probably no older than three or four years old.

I froze in the doorway. "What's going on?" I asked.

"Sam," Dad said slowly. "I'm told you've already briefly met your mother the other day, right?"

I nodded. He really didn't seem happy that she was here either, although he was hiding it better than Poppa was. And I was still really confused about the little girl that was with her.

"Sammy, my baby," my mother said. "I wanted you to meet your sister. This is Regal."

There were so many questions going through my head. First off, I had a little sister? That girl was her daughter? And what kind of name was Regal? Why was my mother even here? Why did Dad and Poppa let her in? Did I actually have to talk to them?

I must have taken too long to say something, because she continued talking. "Don't you want to get to know your sister, Sammy? I know she's really excited to meet you. I've told her so much about you already."

I shook my head. "But you don't know anything about me." I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but I had let it slip anyway. It was true, at least. She didn't know me. She couldn't possibly have been able to tell that little girl anything about me.

"I want to get to know you, Sammy," she said softly. "Your father thankfully agreed to letting me come by this afternoon."

It bothered me that she was calling me Sammy. Very few people called me that, and definitely not people who I've really only met a handful of times over my entire life. Whether or not she was my mother, I didn't feel comfortable with her calling me that.

I looked at my parents, without saying anything to her. I didn't speak, more like silently begged them to do or say something to get me out of this situation. I didn't want to be here right now.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to, Sam," Dad said. "The choice is completely yours."

I shook my head again. "I don't really know. Sorry." I already have two parents and a sister that I love. I don't think I can handle adding more. It didn't help that Poppa's words kept echoing through my head. That woman tried to kill me when I was a baby. Why was she trying so hard now? And why did she think having another kid was a good idea?

I turned and practically ran out of the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom. Flipping on the light switch, I pulled a blank sketchbook off my desk, grabbed a few pencils, and curled up in my bed, wanting to forget everything that had just happened. I didn't pay any attention to what I was drawing, just needing the feel of pencil on paper to clear my head.

I don't know how much time had passed before Dad gently knocked on my open door, stepping into my room. I put my pencil down, looking up at him.

"Hey," he said quietly. "She left. I'm sorry for not giving you a heads up. She sort of came out of nowhere with this."

I shrugged. I didn't blame him. She was the crazy one, not him.

Dad sat down next to me on my bed and picked up my sketchbook, looking at the drawing I had just done. It wasn't until he was holding it that I realized what I had drawn.

I snatched my book back, but not before he also figured out the drawing. "What's going on, Sam?" he asked. "Who's that?"

I looked down at the page, knowing hiding it would be useless. For some reason, I had drawn Ryan and me kissing. It was our first kiss - in the hallway at school. I had drawn myself just as confused and flustered as I had felt in the moment. Ryan was drawn with all the emotion he had kept hidden from me for years. Honestly, it was probably one of the best drawings I've done ever.

"Ryan," I admitted quietly. I wasn't sure how he couldn't tell. I thought I had clearly drawn him, but I guess that's only if he knew that I've sort of been kissing Ryan recently.

Dad raised an eyebrow at me. "Is this a new thing? You and Ryan?"

I shrugged again. "It's not really anything." If by that I meant that Ryan has basically liked me since the moment we met in second grade and has been trying to get kisses out of me for the last week and a half and today I finally kissed him for the first time, then yeah. There wasn't really anything going on.

"If you say so." He sighed. "Your mother is probably going to keep coming around. I don't approve of her being anywhere near you. I know Poppa told you what happened when you were a baby." I nodded and he went on. "But you do have a little sister, which is just as much of a shock to me as it is to you. I won't be upset if you want to get to know them. You're old enough to decide for yourself."

"What if I don't know what I want?"

He let out a soft chuckle, patting my knee as he stood up. "Think about it, okay? You don't need to know right now. I know it's a lot to take in."

I didn't say anything else as he started to leave the room. It was a lot to think about, especially with everything else going on in my life right now. I didn't want to deal with figuring all this out too.

Dad stopped in my doorway and looked at me again. "I do approve of Ryan, by the way." 

He left just before my face heated up with a blush and I buried my face in my pillow. Why did he have to say that?