Finally Home

1. Samantha

"Stop! Stop! Stop!"

"Dad," I sighed. "I haven't even started the car!"

I was exasperated.

"Just practicing," he grinned at me. I frowned back at him.

"You're so funny. Don't give up your day job," I rolled my eyes at him.

"I won't," he said.

I turned the key and started the engine.

"Okay, now, put your foot on the brake and hold it down while you put the car in drive," he instructed.

"I know!" I said.

I did as he said.

"Okay, now, very slowly, very slowly, take your foot off the brake and put it on the gas pedal. But don't press it yet. Just let the car roll."

I did. The slight slope of the driveway let the car roll slowly towards the gate.

"I'll open the gate. You concentrate on not crashing into it."

I stepped on the brake and put the car back into park, undid my seatbelt and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

"Hey!" Dad said getting out of the car. "I thought I was giving you a driving lesson!"

I turned around and glared at him, before opening the front door and going into the house. I slammed the door behind me.

"That was fast," Mom said, coming into the front hall. "I thought Dad was taking you for a driving lesson."

"He's impossible!" I said. "He keeps 'joking' about me crashing. It's not funny!"

Mom smiled at me.

"I'll take you later, okay?"

"Okay,"

"SaSa!" My baby sister came running up to me. "Why you not wif Dada?"

"Because Dada is being a poopoo head," I said, picking up my almost 2 year old sister.

"Poopoo head!" Rosie laughed and pointed at Dad as he came in the front door.

"Great," Mom said. "Thanks, Sam. That's what I needed you to teach your sister."

She sighed and rubbed her growing belly. We were getting a new sibling in a few months. I was excited. Would we have another sister or a baby brother?

"Poopoo head!" Rosie sang.

"Sam, I'm sorry. Come back outside. I won't say anything," Dad pleaded.

"No. Mom will take me later. Your so-called jokes aren't funny anymore.  I'm going to my room to finish my Spanish and math homework and talking to Jill."

I went upstairs and slammed my door. I could hear Mom telling Dad to stop pushing my buttons.

I opened my computer and started a FaceTime call with Jill. She answered almost immediately.

"How'd the driving lesson go?" She asked me.

I frowned.

"My dad's a jerk," I said. "He thinks it's funny to keep saying I'm going to crash the car every time I get behind the wheel."

"You're so lucky you get to drive," Jill sighed. Jill has epilepsy so she can't get her learners permit or license unless she's more than a year seizure free, according to her doctor. And she never is. She'd had a really bad one back in March that landed her in the hospital for a few days. That sucked.

"I guess. But that doesn't change the fact that my dad is a jerk."

Jill shrugged.

"I guess," she said.

"I know, I know, I should be grateful. And I am. But his jokes aren't funny. And my mom isn't thrilled I taught Rosie a new word," I grimaced.

"What?" Jill laughed.

"Poopoo head," I snorted.

Jill broke down into gales of laughter.

"Oh my god. Only you. She probably sounds really cute saying it, though."

"Yeah. Her little voice was too cute. I think Mom probably thought so but wasn't thrilled she was saying Poopoo head," I laughed.

"How's your mom feeling?" Jill asked.

"Good. A little tired but she's good."

"I can't believe your dad told everyone on tour. Again!"

"He does like to tell as many people as possible at once," I laughed. "At least this time I was sure they weren't going to get rid of me."

"Yeah," Jill smiled.

We chatted a while longer while I plowed through my math homework and we worked in Spanish together.

"Why did we take Spanish?" She asked me.

"Donde esta el bibliotheca?" I responded.

"Asking me where the library is doesn't answer my question, you fool," Jill laughed.

She turned away from the screen for a second and came back.

"I gotta go. Mom's having my grandparents for dinner and I have to go help set the table."

"That's a gruesome dinner," I smirked. Jill looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Then it dawned on her and she laughed.

"Roast Grandma with a side of baked Grandpa," she laughed.

"Your grandpa gets baked?  Wow. That probably gives the meat a strange flavor," I laughed.

"You are crazy," Jill laughed. "I'll text you later."

She logged off and I went back to my Spanish homework.

Once I was done I put my earbuds in, turned on some music and lay down on my bed. My phone dinged with a text. I picked up my phone and saw it was Uncle Brendon.

"Hey there, sweets! How's it going?" He asked.

"Hey uncle B. It's going alright. School kinda sucks and I taught Rosie a new word. Mom's not thrilled 😁"

"What did you teach her?"

"💩💩head."

"You taught a two year old shithead?"

"No. I taught an ALMOST two year old 'Poopoo head' 🤣"

"Why would you teach her that?" He asked.

"Because I didn't think teaching her to call Dad a shithead was appropriate," I replied.

"Why the loving nickname for your dad?"

"He's a nightmare to learn to drive with. He's constantly making 'jokes' about me crashing the car. I got pissed and quit on him. Put the car in park, turned it off and left the car."

"Awww. Sorry kiddo. Want me to come teach you how to drive?"

"YES!!" I said, hoping he wasn't kidding. But knowing that he was.

"🤣🤣," he replied. "Well, not sure I can actually manage that, but I can talk to your dad."

"🥺🥺" I responded.

"Aw, sweets. You know we're coming out for your gotchaversary next weekend."

I smiled. Mom and Dad were having a party for the first anniversary of the judge's ruling that I am their kid and my third year of legally being their kid. I was really excited. Uncle Brendon and Aunt Sarah, Uncle Pete and Uncle Patrick, Uncle Josh and Aunt Debby, Zack and Kala, Dad's family, my cousins and my friends were all invited. 

But really, I couldn't wait to see Uncle Brendon and Aunt Sarah.