Finally Home

42. Tyler

It still bothered me that Stanley took up any space in Samantha's mind. It shouldn't. It's part of what makes her who she is. And she's worked so hard to overcome the abuse her ... he doled out in her youth.

She'd never taken anything from us for granted, and in the first year was convinced it was all going to be taken from her in an instant and for no reason but cruelty.

But hard work, therapy, and our love, and Samantha has grown into a confident teenager with friends, a place in her school and brains that for so long she'd been told we're useless anyway.

Sitting with her in evenings after we put Rosie to bed, whether Sam had homework to finish or not, the three of us usually wound up in the same room and just chatted. We talked about everything. Sam had amazing insight for many things, and her opinions mattered to us.

Some of the things she came up with simply blew us away.

She was excited about her trip to a California. Part of me worried about her not wanting to come back. I knew she would. And I knew she'd restart her campaign to have us move out there. But since Josh and Debby had moved to Ohio, she was a little less inclined towards California. She wanted to be closer to Brendon and Sarah, I knew, but her Uncle Josh held a very special place in her heart and having him close by has been great for her.

A few times after school, she'd go to Josh's to hang out with him, learn the drums, and play with Jim. Jim was very protective of Sam and it was so sweet to watch. Debby and Sam had a special relationship, too. They'd sometimes go shopping on the weekends together. Some 'girl time' for the two of them. I loved that Sam had an extended family she could trust. I loved that she could happily go visit Brendon and Sarah without us, and I knew she'd be safe and I knew she'd be happy. And spoiled. I knew they'd spoil her.

But it still amazed me to watch. It still wasn't all that long ago that she was so timid she barely trusted us. And then Stanley kidnapping her and doing whatever it was he did, making it so she didn't trust us. He'd gotten it so deeply ingrained in her that when Jenna was pregnant with Rosie, Sam was convinced that we were going to send her away. And a misspeak by Jenna had almost cost us our daughter. I didn't blame Jenna. We'd discussed what happened and I made it clear I didn't blame her.

Which made my accident with Samantha in October that much worse. Because I blamed myself and allowed myself to believe everyone else did, too. But no one did. And after a while, especially after Samantha woke up, I was better able to believe them. And Samantha. And came to terms with the fact that our accident was just that.

The driver had been fined and jailed. The company he worked for had been severely fined and whatever other ramifications had been levied on them.

And despite that accident, here was my daughter, pretty healthy, doing so well, and about to go on her second solo trip. I couldn't be prouder of her. And I tried to let her know as often as possible. Because she deserved it. She spent so many years being told she was worthless, stupid, useless and every other negative thing Stanley could think to say or do to her. Jenna and I made sure she knew she was valued, loved, brilliant and most importantly, wanted.

I checked my watch and saw it was coming up on 9 pm.

"Sam," I said. "Let's get you a snack and get you to bed. You still have school tomorrow."

"It's the last day before the holiday. Can't I just skip it?"

"And not have a chance to say Merry Christmas to your teachers and friends?  You leave after school tomorrow anyway."

"Okay, okay," Samantha said, pulling up her CGM app and checking her sugar.

"That doesn't seem right," she mumbled.

I opened my app and it showed her blood sugar was very low. Under 50.

"Do you feel okay?" I asked. She nodded.

"I'm gonna use my test kit and recalibrate. Because if I was really that low, we would not be having this pleasant conversation."

"Good idea," I said, following her into the kitchen. She pulled out her test kit, washed her hands and made sure to rinse them really well, and dried them. Soap residue can skew the reading.

Sam tested and I looked at the number. 75. She was completely fine.

She calibrated the app and shook her head.

"Well, worst case I'd have had some sugar and gone a bit high," she said.

"Or we ignored this false low and you went low for real."

Sam shrugged.

I watched, as I often did, as she decided on her snack, calculated the carbs and bolused on her pump.

I sat with her in the kitchen while she ate some yogourt and blueberries.

"Uncle Brendon said they'd be at the airport, right?" She asked.

"They said someone will be there to pick you up and not to worry," I said.

"But what if they forget? Or I can't find them? Or there's press everywhere?"

"Press is a possibility. It is LAX after all. But I don't know that they'll be looking for you anyway. The press. Not Brendon and Sarah. They'd better be looking for you," I smiled.

"Do you think with the accident an couple months ago, the press might be looking for me?"

"Well, they're not likely to be expecting you. You're going to be fine. Zack will probably be there, too. He'll make sure you're okay," I said.

Sam nodded as she contemplated that.

She finished her snack, rinsed her bowl and put it in the dishwasher.

"Good night, teenager," I said.

"Good night, old man," she grinned at me.

"I'm not an old man!" I whined.

"Sam, stop tormenting your father!" Jenna laughed from the living room. Sam blew me a kiss and headed upstairs.

I sat back down on the couch with Jenna, just marvelling at our eldest daughter.