“Absolutely. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there,” I assure him, knowing I probably sound far too excited, but honestly I am excited. I need money, which means I need a job.
“Great, well, if tomorrow works for you, let’s meet after lunch . . . say around three.”
“Sure! Awesome. That sounds great. I’ll be there.”
“See you then, Everly.” He hangs up after a quick goodbye, and as soon as I know the call has ended, I jump up and down.
“I think I got a job!” I shout and clap, startling Sampson, who was standing and holding a ball. He falls to his bottom and immediately begins to cry. “Oh no, sorry, baby.” I rush to pick him up. “Mommy is just happy; I didn’t mean to scare you.” I kiss his squishy cheek and wipe away his tears.
“Is everything okay?” Mom asks, coming into the living room, and I grin at her.
“Yeah, I just got off the phone with Maverick from Live Life Adventures, and he wants me to come in tomorrow to talk and fill out paperwork. I got so excited that I scared Sampson when I got off the phone.”
“So you got the job?” She walks toward me when Sampson reaches out for her.
“I think so. I mean, he didn’t say that I did, but he did ask if I was still interested and wants to meet, so I think so.”
“That’s great, sweetheart.”
“Right?” I watch her take Sampson to where his pile of blocks is and start to play with him. “It’ll be nice to have some money coming in again.”
“Have you talked to Lex about helping you out?” Her eyes come to me, and I shift on my feet, feeling uncomfortable.
“I don’t want anything from him.”
“I know you don’t,” she says quietly, then continues: “But this isn’t about you. It’s about Sampson. And even if he doesn’t want to be a part of Sampson’s life, he should still help out, don’t you think?”
“No,” I say softly, picking up one of Sampson’s stuffed animals and holding it while I take a seat on the couch. “He never hid the fact that he didn’t want to be a dad, and even though it sucks, I’m not sure I should hold him responsible.”
“Everly—”
“Mom, please.” I grip the stuffed animal tighter. “I know you feel differently about the situation, but at the end of the day, it’s my choice.”
“You’re right.” She sighs, sounding disappointed. I get it. I understand why she’s disappointed in the situation between Lex and me, but the truth is, he made it clear where he stood from the beginning, and I have to respect that. I also know he’s proven he doesn’t care about Sampson or me. I have only spoken to him one time since I’ve been here, and that was over texts, where I told him that I arrived safely, and he messaged me back with a simple Good in response.
“So do you think you can watch Sampson tomorrow?” I change the subject, because if I do overthink things with Lex, I’ll end up getting angry, sad, or disappointed, and none of those things are good for my mental health.
“You already know I can.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime, honey.” She reaches over to rub the top of my knee, then looks across the room when the back door opens and my dad walks in. Like always when she sees my father, a light fills her eyes that is solely reserved for him. Even after thirty-plus years of being married, they’re still just as grossly affectionate and in love as I remember them being when I was growing up. Not that they don’t bicker and drive each other crazy, but they definitely have more good times than bad and always make their relationship a priority.
“What are you two in here talking about?” Dad asks as he walks into the room, and as soon as Sampson hears his voice, he immediately gets up and waddles over to Dad. He picks him up, then lifts him above his head to blow against his belly.
“Everly got a job,” Mom says, going to Dad and snagging a kiss.
“Hopefully,” I cut in, and Dad looks at me. “I have to go meet with Maverick and Tanner at the Live Life Adventures Lodge tomorrow to talk about stuff.”
“That’s great news, and they’d be dumb not to hire you.”
“Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb.” Sampson pats Dad’s beard-covered cheek, laughing, and I groan.
“Dad.”
“At least it’s not shi—”
“Don’t say it,” I say, cutting him off, because Sampson has reached the age of repeating, and even though he has no idea what he’s saying, and most of the time you can hardly understand him, I don’t really relish the idea of my sweet, adorable baby boy walking around spouting curse words all day.
“I wasn’t going to say it,” Dad says with a grin, and I roll my eyes, because he is so full of it. He curses all the time—so much so that he doesn’t even recognize when he’s doing it. “I just came to see if you or your mom would mind coming to the office to answer the phone and hang out for an hour or so while I run out to meet a client, in case anyone stops by.”