He hadn’t expected his sister to appear, dropping in town for a weekend and insisting on hanging out, in a tone that suggested she was concerned but determined to be casual about it. It was touching that she reached out in the first place but pretty much their relationship in a nutshell. Neither big on expressing themselves but there whenever the other needed. The problem this time, Sam wasn’t entirely sure how to feel, or what to talk about. He knew he wanted to avoid the chatter around town as much as possible, which was almost impossible considering it was a non-stop spin of the gossip mill just about everywhere. But the Double C at night, when there were more coffee cups than people in the diner was an ideal place for distraction with his favorite person.
WHAT: an early morning drop-in, with a side of pumpkin pancakes.
WHEN: 11/5; early morning
WHERE: the double c diner
WARNINGS: (mentions of alcoholism) WC: 2010
He was startled awake by a pillow to the face and the sound of a voice that was very much not his father’s.
“I’m hungry and we’re out of eggs.”
Groggily, Sam opened his eyes to find a familiar dark pair peering down at him and he groaned. It was way too early for his sister, in time of the morning and otherwise. Last they’d spoken she was still at school, caught up in the rapidly approaching end of another grad school semester and wasn’t due for a visit until Thanksgiving time, but there she was, hovering over him, looking ready to snatch another pillow from the bed to pelt him with.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked around a large yawn. It didn’t stop him from getting up, though not without some drama, groaning even louder and pushing a hand through haphazard blond locks as he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling cold but fully awake.
Stacy looked far too chipper for the hour, greeting him with a cheery smile and a cheek pinch that he waved off with a grumble, growing louder at the sound of her laughter.
“I have a light week; mostly papers due and figured it was as good a time as any for a trip home. Check on things…and you.” She glanced down at Sam, brown eyes searching for a moment before asking “Were you going to tell me what really happened with the kitchen, or…?”
Their last phone call, he’d only glossed over the details surrounding the fire, not wanting her to worry about things, with her plate already filled with school. He merely reassured her the damage wasn’t extensive and he was working out a deal with Puck for repairs, but Sam was certain seeing it in person was kind of jarring.
With a sigh, he scrambled to his feet and eased past his little sister’s questioning look. “Come on. We’ll go to the Double C for breakfast.”
Several minutes and a hot shower later, Sam was feeling energetic, and grateful to see his sister. Stacy, with her dry humor and sharp tongue, always quick with a joke was a sight for sore eyes, a welcome reprieve from the chaotic energy of the past few weeks, and the pair fell in-step with each other as if no time had passed between when they were last together.
They walked to the diner, moving briskly down the sidewalk, making the trek in the chilly Maine morning, one they made so many times before. When they’d grown tired of mornings filled with cold cereal and colder sadness of the house, they would make their way to the cozy atmosphere that the diner offered, a home away from home and a break away from their own. The picture they made, comforting in its familiarity. The Evans kids, the quiet blond and the chatty one with the auburn curls.
Luckily, their favorite booth was empty, and Sam slid in on one side, bouncing against the plastic vinyl that covered the seat and tugging the beanie from his head, fingers raking through his hair. There was no need to reach for the menu, he knew the damn thing by heart.
“Ugh, they still have the pumpkin pancakes with cinnamon butter” Stacy remarked fondly, clutching the plastic menu to her chest in a way that made Sam snort with laughter.
“Don’t lie, that’s the only reason you’re back.”
Slim shoulders raised in a shrug and she didn’t even bother to hide her grin. “More or less. But I guess I’m happy to see you, too.”
The waitress stopped by with coffee and to take their orders and Sam frowned only slightly when he realized Tina wasn’t there, but reasoned it was still pretty early and she most likely had a later shift. He hadn’t seen her since Halloween, and with all the weirdness he’d wanted to check on her. On all of them, really. Everyone had been quiet, no doubt trying to bounce back from the admittedly cruel trick that still made Sam incredibly uneasy…and annoyed.
He hadn’t realized he’d zoned out in his thoughts until he felt the sugar packet smack the side of his face, and he turned to find Stacy with yet another questioning look.
“What’s going on with you?”
It was his turn to shrug and he busied himself with adding cream and sugar to his coffee, distracted by the soft clink of the spoon knocking gently against the porcelain cup as he stirred. “Been a really weird week.”
“It’s only Monday.”
Sam fixed her with a blank look. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Did something happen? Is it Dad?” The worry in her tone made his stomach tighten with uneasiness and briefly Sam wondered if that’s what really brought Stacy from her life at college and back into sinking, quiet, cold.
James had, for the most part, been fine…as much as Sam could tell. If he wasn’t at the bar, he was in his room and Sam had barely seen him. But nothing more had been set aflame and there were no new whispers of his father’s drunken exploits around town, so Sam assumed he was going through one of his sober-ish spells.
These were also familiar, and somehow more grating than when he was on a full-blown bender or completely dry. It was as if he would retreat even further, and without the crutch of alcohol he just seemed to simply perform life like a robot would, a shell of a functioning person. Aware, but willfully obtuse. There but not there.
It brought out a frustrated kind of fury in Sam, it always had. Remembering the times that Stacy, so happy to see him out and about and not under some whiskey cloud, would talk excitedly, trying to engage him in conversations about her day, rambling in her sweet way only to be met with an errant nod or stray mumble while James washed dishes or watched tv, leaving a look of hurt on his youngest child’s face and anger in his eldest.
And Sam wasn’t sure if talking with Hunter about the other’s own struggles with drinking was helping, though perhaps it was a little easier to understand his friend than his own father, where the well of sympathy and understanding had long gone dry, replaced by a resigned sort of resentment and rage that festered quietly within him.
With a slow exhale, Sam lifted the cup and took a small sip of the coffee, immediately soothed by the heat and the smooth blend of the roast and shook his head. “It’s not. He’s in one of his moods, but that’s nothing new. Just a lot of stuff’s been happening around town.”
“Rachel’s still missing, isn’t she? I went to the pharmacy to pick up Dad’s prescription and Ms. Sullivan gave me the rundown. They had somebody in custody, and they let him go?”
It didn’t surprise him that Stacy kept up with the news in Castleport, nor that her first stop had been for their father, confirming that this was one of her ‘bad feelings’ trips. Or that Ms. Sullivan would be in the know.
“Yeah. The guy was a stalker. Real creep shit. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think he might’ve hurt her. The homecoming stuff was never solved, but the cops thought it was Hunter and Sugar, it was really messed up. The whole town’s been buzzing with all this bullshit. And then I get this invite to a Halloween party at Castle House that turns into a scavenger hunt and somehow ends up with my old classmates finding out all this fucked up shit about each other. So now they all know about Sloane.”
Stacy arched a brow, surprise etched in pretty features, though whatever she’d been about to say was paused once the waitress returned with their plates. Sam’s crisis was put on hold long enough for her to savor the pumpkin pancakes though he’d barely made a dent in his hash browns when she was back with choice words.
“Huh. Seems like I’ve really missed a lot.”
“That’s a good thing,” Sam replied. “You’ve got school. One of us has got to be the respectable Evans, and it’s clearly not gonna be the delinquent divorcé.”
The pair grinned at that and she tossed another sugar packet at him for good measure. The quiet, save for the plink of utensils scraping plates and the music playing softly throughout the diner was nice, and Sam savored the moments of peace with his sister, though he barely bit back a groan at her next question.
“So how’d Mercedes take it?”
He didn’t want to think about that, but Stacy was giving him that expectant eyebrow arch again and he knew she would keep asking until she got her answer. “She’s pissed. Can’t say I get why, though.”
Stacy rolled her eyes, completely unconvinced. “Okay, Samuel.”
“Alright, Anastasia.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re such a pain in the ass. Does your other girlfriend know about your ex-wife too? I’m sure Sugar’s got a lot to say about that.”
The ‘girlfriend’ of it all made him wince and Sam fixed her with another sharp glare. “You know what, how about we focus on you for a little bit. What about that IT nerd you were talking to?”
“Why when yours is way more fun,” Stacy dismissed with a wave of her hand and a bite of pancake. “Besides, Teddy just fixed my laptop when it crapped out on me. I’ve been talking to someone else who’s really cool but I won’t say much more about her because I don’t want to jinx it. Ask me more at Thanksgiving.”
It was nice, seeing his sister excited about more than just textbooks and her psychology journals so he simply offered her a smile and nodded. “Sure. But switch the subject, nosy.”
“Fine. We can talk about Thanksgiving. I think we should have it here, with Dad. I like staying with you in Boston too, but you’re here a lot now, maybe more if you really do open the shop. And I’m tired of alternating my time between you and him. So we should all spend it together.”
It seemed like the simplest of requests, an obvious one at that, and yet he was still caught off guard. And the knee-jerk reaction was to shut it all down, but he realized just how stubborn and unfair that would be to Stacy, who tried so hard to play the peacemaker role that Sam had long abandoned.
But she made the case for it, he was home more and even with all the weirdness happening in the small town, and the recent bomb drop of his ex-wife, it hadn’t deterred his plans to make his tattoo shop a reality. More than ever, the idea of carving out his own space in Castleport appealed to him. To make new, better memories in place of the ones that hampered him regularly.
“I’ll think about it, okay? I’ve still gotta get back to work and take care of shit in Boston, though.”
That seemed to appease his sister and she offered him a bright grin. “Good. I’ll be here for a few days so you’ll have plenty of time to think it over. In the meantime, we need to hit up Blue Brick after this. I’m craving a good donut.”
Sam shook his head, his laughter incredulous as he pointed to her completely empty plate. “You just took down a short stack of pancakes and now you want donuts?”
“Relax, we’ll burn it all off with walking. You’ll still have your perfect figure, pretty boy.” Her giggle grew when the sugar packet smacked her upside the head and Sam had to duck one of his own, and the warm feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach as they wiled away the better part of an hour inside the cozy warmth of the diner, savoring the familiar peace of it all.
