Page 289 of The Havenport Collection

Sam

M y mother was shameless. She had always adored Gio, and made no secret of the fact that she wanted us to end up together.

She wasn’t pushy but didn’t hide her bias either. She always mentioned him during visits or phone calls, noting whether he was dating anyone and how helpful he was or how handsome he looked at the grocery store that one time.

She busied herself making tea, but I know she was bursting with curiosity.

At this point, I’m sure the entire town was speculating wildly.

This wasn’t new; Havenport had been betting on us since high school, but you would think after more than twenty years they would realize that men and women could, in fact, just be friends.

“He’s just been so helpful lately,” she said, blowing on her mug of tea, “and supportive.” Her eyes widened, desperate for more details.

“Mom, we’re friends.”

“Really? In that case Gio’s the greatest friend on planet earth. Because Mrs. Wright has seen him coming and going at all hours. And I know he’s been getting you out of the house.” She cocked an eyebrow.

Nothing got past her. It was one of her superpowers. It was as if, to make up for the teen mom stigma, she developed superhuman mothering instincts, always knowing what I needed before I did. But the flip side was that she could spot a lie from space, and she knew I was keeping something from her.

I needed to change the subject. “How’s work?”

She perked right up. My mom loved her job, and it made me so happy.

She put herself through college when I was little, always taking waitressing or bartending jobs to make ends meet.

She eventually graduated and got a master’s degree in social work.

And now she was a program director at the Havenport Family Crisis Center.

She was busy chatting about the new campus they were opening and how successful the recent fundraising drive had been. I loved hearing her gush about work, about how much she was fulfilled by what she did. Not only because I loved my mom, but because it helped with the guilt I carried.

She had big dreams when she got pregnant with me.

She was seventeen and about to graduate at the top of her class and head off to college.

But then she met my dad, a rich kid who got a summer job on the pier after his first year at Yale.

She believed they were in love, but when his parents found out she was pregnant, they sent him back to the Ivy League and paid my mom off.

I had never met him once in my entire life.

I knew who he was. My mother held nothing back.

And thanks to the Internet, I knew a lot about him, including his three kids who were my half siblings.

In all these years I had never tried to contact him.

He didn’t want me and was content to live his life like I didn’t exist. Plus, I already had the world’s greatest family; he would only drag us down.

So my mom put her dreams on hold, lived with my grandparents, and made it work.

My grandpa was a carpenter, and my grandma worked at the town library.

She quit when I was born to take care of me while my mom worked and went to school.

I never wanted for anything, but I knew we struggled.

I was deeply loved, but it broke my grandparents’ hearts to see their daughter giving up her dreams. And I knew then that I would never be a burden to anyone again.

That I would stand on my own two feet and create my own destiny.

But after I moved out and started my life, she pivoted to caring for her elderly parents. And after Grandma died five years ago, she had finally begun to live for herself. And seeing her thrive filled my heart with joy.

I reclined on the couch, sipping my tea and letting my mom’s chatter push away my bad mood.

“And Dan?” I asked. “Are things serious?” My mom and Dan met at a charity kayak race a few years back.

He was a few years younger than she was and completely smitten.

My mom was always gun-shy about dating, but I wholeheartedly approved.

Mom blushed deeply, which made me giggle. “Things are going well. He’s lovely.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That was a nonanswer. You guys have been dating for two years.”

“It’s different at my age.”

“You’re only fifty-eight!”

“I know, but we’re taking things slow. I’ve just been so busy lately.” She trailed off awkwardly.

“You don’t have to slow down for me, you know. I want you to live your life, Mom.” And the guilt was back. Was she pulling away because of me? Because of my cancer?

“It’s not that. He’s so understanding. He didn’t mind rescheduling Sicily at all.”

“Wait. What?”

My mother started picking at her nails, her classic tell.

“You’re going to Sicily? When?”

“We had planned for September. His grandparents came from there, and we were going to do some vineyard tours. But with your surgery and everything…”

My eyes welled up with tears; this was just another example of me messing up her plans and putting her dreams on hold.

“Mom. Please go. Please don’t skip out on a special trip for me.”

She scooted over on the couch and put her arm around me.

“I don’t care how old you are, you are my baby.

That’s the thing about being a mom. It never ends.

The mom instincts, they are forever. And my baby is hurting and needs me.

If I went, I would have a terrible time. I’d rather be here with you.”

“I don’t need you.” It came out as a sob and the tears were flowing now. “I want you to travel and have adventures, Mom.”

“Shhhh.” She cradled my head to her chest. “Of course you need me. Even to this day, I want my mom when things get tough. It’s what I’m here for. And you need to let me be here for you.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes on a tissue. I loved her so much. I didn’t deserve someone so devoted to me.

“And I’m not the only one. I know Gio would do anything for you, Sam. So many people would.”

I laughed as I dried my tears. “Nice segue, Mom. I see exactly what you are doing. We are just friends.”

But she wasn’t listening, off in her own world talking about him. “And Jackie from the diner has been telling everyone you two were loved up in your old booth in the diner a couple of weeks ago.”

“Gio was just teasing her,” I said. “He was protecting me, making it so I didn’t have to talk to everyone about my health.”

“It worked. My phone has been blowing up since.”

“Let them gossip.” I took a sip of my tea. “It’s better than feeling bad for me.”

“It’s okay to need help, Sam. This is a difficult time. You are vulnerable right now. And there is nothing wrong with leaning on the people who love you for support.”

I nodded.

“You don’t have to do it all yourself, Sam. No woman is an island. We’re all here for you.”

I sniffled. My mom was so kind and so good. But right now I couldn’t hear her. Right now I was angry and confused and more than a little bit horny.

“I know that, Mom,” I snapped. “Everyone is here for me. Everyone wants to help poor Sam who has cancer. And I’m just supposed to sit back like a pathetic sick person and accept it.”

"Samantha.” She shot me a pointed look; I knew I was being a brat but I couldn’t help it.

The rage was bubbling up inside me and had no place to go.

I had cancer. Me, at only forty years old.

And it wasn’t the invisible kind that they give you some pills and go on your way. I was going to lose my breast.

It was just so un-fucking-fair.

“Sorry, Mom. But it’s true. I have cancer and all of a sudden I can’t feed myself, or be left alone, or do any of the things I’ve been doing since I was a child. I’ve been on my own out in the big bad world beyond Havenport for decades.”

“You can be mad. Be as angry as you want. Scream, throw things, cry—those are all healthy reactions to what is happening to you. But don’t shut down, and don’t push people away. Especially not Gio. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”

And that right there was the problem. I knew Gio would do anything I asked. He was such a good person.

He was a flirt and a ladies’ man. There was nothing wrong with that; he was always upfront.

But the waters had become so muddied. What was happening between us was not just sex.

It was so much more. Our relationship had been changing and evolving and becoming something entirely new.

And while it was fun and sexy in the moment, I wasn’t sure how it would feel when things ended.

But I didn’t want to be another obligation to him. I knew if things went further, that’s what would happen. He would be the stand-up guy he had always been and stay by my side while my life went off the rails.

The sexiness would wear off quickly once I was puking my guts up all the time and losing my hair. Not to mention the aftermath of surgery. And then things would go south really fast.

If I thought my confidence was bad now, imagine how much worse it would be to see the pity in his eyes? Where there had always been so much admiration, and recently lust, to see him pity me?

The thought made me sick to my stomach.

But cancer had given me one gift. It had made me realize I better make the most out of every single moment I get on this earth. I smiled to myself. I had definitely been making the most of my moments lately. I clenched my legs together in anticipation, already aching for his touch.

Taking the leap into a physical relationship was scary, but I was braver now than I had ever been before. I had gained perspective and wasn’t afraid to take risks.

And Gio, well, if anything, it confirmed what I had always suspected—there was something between us, something special and unique.

Sadly, we didn’t have time to fully explore it. I kicked myself for spending so many years ignoring what was in front of my face. That my best friend was one of the most steady, supportive, and sexy human beings on the planet.

I closed my eyes and thought about the night we spent in the tree house after my grandmother’s funeral. I remembered seeing him that night with open eyes. We had been sitting on a blanket, talking about everything and nothing, and the urge to kiss him was overwhelming.

But I was too scared. And looking back, I hated that I didn’t. I hated that I didn’t have the guts to do what I had been thinking about for so long.

Because now it was too late.

“It’s not too late, you know,” my mom said, clearly reading my mind. “That boy has been in love with you forever, and I know you feel the same way.”

I rubbed my temples. “Please stop, Mom. We are friends, and that is all we will ever be.”

I excused myself to go lie down, wanting to curl up in a ball and cry. The more I thought about Gio, the more upset I became.

The sad part was that I think in another life, we could have really loved each other.

But I had missed my chance. I should have been brave all those years ago.

Even if he didn’t feel the same way, I should have told him or done something.

All these years I’d secretly wanted him, deep down believing that we could make each other really happy.

But things were different now.