For the Love of Sami (12 page)

"Sami." Daniel pulled her back down to him and cradled her in his arms. ’There’s a whole other part of your life that you keep separate from me. When are you going to let me share in it?"

In all honesty, Sami couldn’t say she didn’t know what he meant. She knew only too well, and she also knew without a doubt that it wasn’t fair to Daniel to let things continue as they were. She had been over it a hundred times in her mind, and she still didn’t know what she was going to do about it.

If she were to open up completely to him and tell him everything there was to know about her, it would leave her exposed and very vulnerable. Then what would happen? Would he still say he loved her? Or would he reject her, as her parents had done? And if she couldn’t bring herself to tell him, could she bring herself to leave him? Questions—there were so many of them.

"Hey." Daniel interrupted her thoughts. "Remember me? I’m the guy who loves you."

"I remember." She ran her hand lovingly up his cheek. "I shouldn’t be gone too long, and then we’ll have the whole afternoon to ourselves."

Daniel gave a heavy sigh and opened his arms without another word.

#

In the sadly dingy kitchen, Sami sat across the chipped table and watched worriedly while Mama poured her a cup of coffee with a shaking hand that came from having lived a great number of years. Mama was the mother of Bill, the ice cream man, but she was also "Mama" to the rare few on whom she bestowed the privilege. Sami was one of the rare few, and had been since the time several years earlier when Bill had taken her to meet his mother.

"Have you been to see the doctor lately, Mama?"

"No, child. I’ve had just too much on my mind lately to worry about whether my palsy has gotten any worse or not."

"Do you still have the name of that doctor I gave you? I made arrangements with him to send the bill to me."

"It’s around here somewhere. Now, don’t worry. As soon as we come up with a plan to save my apartment house. I’ll feel a lot better."

"Mama, I told you I’d find you another apartment—one a lot better them this. And your stuff will be packed and moved for you. All you’ll have to do is walk out of this apartment and into your new one."

"This is my home, Sami. My husband and I moved here on the day we were married. I had my babies here, I watched them grow up here and go out on their own. My husband died here, and I want to die here. This place isn’t what it used to be, but I don’t want to live anywhere else. And the rest of the tenants feel the same way."

Sami twisted a curl around her finger, all the while turning the problem over in her mind. She had felt as if she should at least try to talk Mama into moving. It hadn’t worked, and she had known it wouldn’t. Now she was ready to fight. "What do you know about this new landlord of yours?"

"Not much. Oh, I’ve seen his picture here and there. Seems to be a big man around town. He already bought the places on either side of us. Tore them down and built a great big, tall building, he did, right next door. It blocks out my sunshine, but I’m not complaining. I still get a little slice of sun comin’ through the window in the mornings."

"But that’s terrible! Well, don’t worry. We’re not going to give up. I’ll be back in a few days time with some people, and we’ll picket." Without warning, memories rushed in on her of how her last picketing escapade had turned out, but she hastily pushed them away and determinedly added, "It’ll draw people’s attention to this man’s inhumanity, and he’ll have to bow to public pressure." Sami got up and walked around the table to drop a kiss on the frail old lady’s bent head. "You’ll see. It will work."

"You’re a good girl, Sami."

#

The bright autumn day seemed made for a jaunt to the flea market. Daniel and Sami strolled among the stalls, although their progress was slow, since Sami managed to find something that she considered of worth at practically every one.

"Daniel, what do you think about this?" Sami held up a stuffed alligator with a clock in its tummy. Casting a sidelong glance at him, she found Daniel looking properly horrified, and suppressed a grin. "I was thinking maybe the mantle in the drawing room . . . or perhaps your desk at the office. What do you think?"

"I already have a clock in both places, Sami, but thank you anyway."

"Well, how about this, then?" Holding up a shocking-pink satin pillow with a big ruffle around it and the greeting "Welcome Home, Sailor" on it, she feigned serious consideration.

Daniel burst out laughing. "I don’t believe it!"

"This, then?" She held up an identical pillow, but this one said "Welcome Home, Seventh Fleet." "I think this is a sentiment I could take a stand for."

He pulled her to him. "Come on, you incorrigible child, I think we’d better move on."

But minutes later, after a visit to yet another stall, Daniel gave her a look of complete wonder. "I can’t believe I just bought a T-shirt that has ‘Legal Eagle’ written across the front of it."

"I did give you a choice, you know."

"You call one that said ‘Lawyers Do It Better Without Their Briefs’ a choice?"

"We could have had one made up that said ‘Lawyers Do It Better In A Car.’"

"Sami!"

"Well, either one of them has got to be better than what you have on."

"And just what’s wrong with this outfit, may I ask?"

"Daniel, one just does not wear pure-silk slacks and a linen blazer to a flea market!"

"You’ll have to excuse me," he requested humbly, barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice. "This is my first time, you know. I suppose your outfit is more suitable."

"That’s right." She twirled to give him a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of her off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, belted at the waist with a braided rope and worn over yards and yards of cotton the color of golden flames, then danced away, something else already catching her fancy. "Look," she called, holding up a bunch of fresh flowers. "Do you have enough money left to buy me these?"

"Oh, I think I can manage it," he consented good-naturedly, digging into his pocket to pay the man, "although the garden at home is full of flowers, if you want some."

"But these are already cut, and those aren’t."

"That’s very true." He chuckled. "I hadn’t thought of that."

"And it would be wasteful to pass these by, go back to your house, and cut some more. Besides, that man probably needs the money, and I doubt if he’ll sell half of those flowers today. If we hadn’t bought these, they might have died without anyone’s ever having enjoyed them."

His expression was gentle as it rested on her. "So now that you have them, what are you going to do with them?"

"Make a garland for my hair."

"Then why don’t we go up there"—he pointed toward a hill—"away from this clamor. We can sit on the grass and rest for a while."

"Okay, let’s go."

"Wait a minute. I’ll tell you what. While you make the garland, I’m going to go buy you something."

"What?"

"Don’t be so nosy," he admonished. "It’s a surprise."

"A surprise!" She threw her arms around him. "I’ve never had a true surprise before. What is it? Tell me, Daniel, please, tell me. Oh, please!"

"No."

"Can’t I bribe, coerce, or otherwise seduce you into telling me?"

"Nope. You just sit up there, and I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even notice I’m gone."

"Fat chance," Sami grumbled, stomping up the grassy hill that began its rise a little distance from the flea market.

She had just finished the garland and was threading it through her hair when she raised her eyes and saw Daniel strolling up to her. She caught her breath. He could stir her senses just by walking toward her. What was she going to do about it? Something deep inside her was telling her that things could not go on indefinitely as they were. She had to make a decision, and soon.

He dropped beside her, holding a small sack in one hand.

She raised herself on her knees and grabbed for the sack. "What’d you get? Is it for me? Let me see, let me see, let me see!"

Laughing, he caught her hand easily. "Not so fast. First a kiss."

"A kiss with all those people down below us!" She pretended dismay. "Why, Daniel, do you think that would be proper?"

"I’ll show you what’s proper," he growled.

Pushing her back on the grass, his mouth found hers in an unexpectedly serious kiss—a burning kiss, a branding kiss, an unforgettable kiss. Flashes of fire darted through Sami as the velvet of his lips moved with an insistent pressure against hers. The day and all it held disappeared, and only Daniel was left—the touch of his lips, the caress of his hands, the weight of his body on hers.

She felt a tremor shake his body and pass through to hers. Then slowly, as if it were painful for him, he drew away from her and sat up. Reaching for the bag, he casually tossed it to her. "This is for you."

Strangely shaken, Sami sat up, too, and opened the bag. Reaching in, her hand encountered what felt like a chain. As she pulled it out and saw what it was, she let out a gasp. A golden chain swung from her unsteady fingers, and on the chain hung a small golden heart. Inscribed on the heart by a rough engraving tool were the words "Sami, I love you. Daniel."

Tears filled her golden eyes as, speechless, she turned to him. He gave an oddly embarrassed laugh. "The man assured me it was fourteen-karat gold, but I’m not so sure. I guess we’ll know if it starts turning green. Here, let me put it on for you."

Silently, Sami held her hair up so that he could fasten the necklace around her throat. When he was finished, he brought his hands around to the front of her. Pushing down the elastic neckline of her blouse a little bit, he picked up the golden heart, which had nestled in the hollow between her breasts, and fingered it thoughtfully. And as he did so, his hand moved against her. She could feel the heavy thudding of her heart against the warmth and weight of his hand. She knew he must be able to feel it, too.

Speaking in a low, husky tone, his eyes stayed on the heart in his fingers. "I’m willing to wait forever, if that’s what it takes, until you say you love me. But I must tell you, Sami, that . . . there are times when I nearly go crazy with worry about you. You go off during the day to God knows where, interacting with God knows who . . ."

He stopped talking for a minute and rubbed his knuckles in the soft division between her swelling breasts, almost as if he couldn’t help himself. It was a profoundly sensual gesture, and a wild kind of heat stole through her, robbing her of breath, until he started speaking again. "It’s okay, though, if that’s what you feel you have to do. But I just wanted you to have something from me, something that you could look at, something that you could feel against your skin, to remind you how much I love you."

He finally looked up at her, and Sami swallowed hard in response to the blatant flames of desire she saw in the depths of his navy eyes. "Let’s go home," he said thickly.

Across the ground, multicolored leaves skittered; overhead, clouds drifted on a cooling breeze; down below, the flea market continued at a hustle-and-bustle pace . . . And on the hill, Sami could only nod at Daniel.

The demonstration was in full swing, and Sami, wearing World War II combat pants gathered at the ankles, boots, and a sequined T-shirt, eyed it with satisfaction. Deciding that where she had gone wrong with her picketing of Strucely Furs was in not being organized enough and attempting to do it all on her own, Sami had set about organizing her demonstration for Mama’s apartment building with a vengeance.

All of her park people had turned out, and she had had Bill contact friends and relatives of the other tenants in the building. Quite a few of them had also shown up. Picket signs had been made that proclaimed, for Instance, "Give Us This Apartment Building Or Give Us Death," "Hell No, Mama Won’t Go!" and Sami’s own personal favorite. "He Took Her Sunshine, But He Can’t Take Her Home."

"Sami, come over here for a minute, will you?"

Turning, she waved at Mama and started toward her. She and Bill had given Mama a chair in the shade. From her position, she would be able to see everything.

"What do you think?" Sami asked proudly. "Isn’t it great? We’ve only been under way a couple of hours and already we’ve gotten people interested." She pointed toward the street, where traffic was backed up for blocks.

"It is, it certainly is," Mama agreed. "But I’ve been worried about those people marching around in a circle all day. They’re going to wear themselves out."

"Not to worry. A refreshment stand has been set up down the street a little ways, and a schedule to relieve those on the picket line has been arranged. Plus"—Sami paused to give her announcement dramatic impact—"the media are expected any minute."

Mama shook her head, and tears sprang to her eyes. "You’re such a good girl, Sami. There aren’t too many young people who would bother with an old fool of a woman like me."

"Mama!" Sami went down on her knees beside the chair. "Don’t you ever let me hear you say such a thing again. You’re the most wonderful mother I’ve ever known. Why, I . . ." Sami stopped speaking as she realized what she had just said. What had she just said? She had never before allowed such a blasphemous idea about either of her parents to enter her head.

Mama’s voice interrupted her thoughts. "Now, I don’t want you to be upset if this doesn’t work, Sami. You’ll have tried, and that’s all anybody can do in this world."

"It’s going to work. You’ll see."

"Sami!" It was Bill calling her. "Looks like we’ve got company."

Sami looked in the direction Bill was pointing and saw Daniel, striding rapidly toward her.

"My lawyer!" she exclaimed happily.

"My landlord," Mama muttered resignedly.

Almost simultaneously it dawned on each of them what the other had just said, and they stared at each other in amazement.

"Your landlord?"

"Your lawyer?"

"For the love of God, Sami, what do you think you’re doing here?"