The Untitled Piper Watson Project

A Tribute to Samuel Watson

Piper's POV~

After it became reasonably late, I showed Mack upstairs. At the very top was the master bedroom. "This is the master bedroom," I said. "But I don't sleep in this room." Mack narrowed his eyes. "How come?" "This used to be my parents' house. Mine growing up." I explained. "It doesn't feel right sleeping in their room. I just use their shower because it's nicer than mine." Mack laughed. "That's a good enough reason." We continued down the hall which was open due to the banister that overlooked the living room. "The next room is just a guest room." I said. We approached two doors across from each other. I pointed. "That's the bathroom. That's the attic." Then we reached the end of the second floor and there were two more rooms. "This one used to be Jennifer's." I said, gesturing to the room on the left. I opened the other door. "This is my room." Mack looked around the room, taking in all my clutter on my furniture and the posters and paintings on the walls. "It reminds me of you." he said after awhile. I chuckled nervously. "How so?" Mack put all his bags in my closet and said: "because it's got a lot going on but it's beautiful nevertheless." I laughed and closed the door. "You're too nice."

Mack started changing and I respected his privacy by not staring, but I realized I couldn't really dress myself with one of my arms in a sling. My mom had to help me get dressed before I left the hospital. "Hey, Mack?" I called. I turned around and he was changed into a t-shirt and sweats, staring at me expectantly. "I..." I faltered. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I can't get changed with my arm in a sling." He blinked. "Do you need help?" I nodded shyly. I opened one of my drawers and pulled out what I wanted to wear, a t-shirt and shorts, and turned away from Mack, pulling my shirt up with my free hand. He slipped it over my head carefully and put the t-shirt on. I managed to get my jeans off with one hand and my shorts on without assistance. Good Lord. "What side of the bed do you sleep on?" Mack asked. I smiled because he cared so much. "The left side. So I can turn off the lamp." He nodded and we crawled under the covers and I turned off the light. "Goodnight." Mack said. "Goodnight." That was the best sleep I'd gotten in months.

***

The next morning after me and Mack had breakfast and coffee, I sat at my desk, highly irritated. "MACK!" I yelled. I heard a crash from upstairs and rapid footsteps flying down the stairs and running into the kitchen and to where my desk was. Mack's eyes were widened and he was out of breath. "I...was...putting away...clothes." he gasped. "What's...wrong?" "I can't type." I complained. "But not that it matters because I have no ideas anyway." Mack frowned. "I'm sorry." I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Why don't you write about Sam?" Mack suggested. My head shot up. "What?" "You know," Mack said. "Like a tribute or something. People like sappy stuff like that. I mean, it's a good way to start." I gasped. "Mackenzie Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is Gibbons you are an extraordinary man." I jumped up in excitement and kissed him. He smiled. "I don't have a middle name. And I know." We went straight to work, no time to waste. I've wasted too much time. Mack sat at my desk on my laptop while I sat on top of the desk, telling him what to write word-for-word. "'There are no words to describe Samuel Watson.'" I started. Mack typed up everything I said until it was like a 30 chapter story on Sam and his impact on my life. We were finished by nightfall.

"Well?" I asked Mack, wondering how he liked it. "I think it's great, Pipes." Mack replied. "But what happens now?" I held my phone in my hand, my thumb moving rapidly to dial a number. "Now I call my publisher. Robert Anderson. Then I send him the typed version, he reads it, edits it, etc., and then we schedule a meeting." I placed the phone to my ear, expecting Robert to be in at this hour. The receptionist answered. "Hello, this is Anderson Publishing how may I help you?" "Hi, Rebecca. It's Piper Watson." "Hi Ms. Watson! Would you like me to connect you?" "Yes, thank you." I waited, and then Robert picked up. "This is Robert Anderson." "Hi, Robert. It's Piper." "Piper!" Robert exclaimed. "I haven't heard from you in so long. Is this about your income? Because you know it goes up and down—-" "No, no. It's not about that." I assured him. "I just wrote a new book." "Really? That's great." I beamed. "When can we meet and talk about it?" "Well, how about you send it to me and Rebecca can let you know when we can schedule an appointment?" I frowned. "That works." I lied. I knew Robert. It takes a long time to get an appointment with him. Especially when he still has to read the book.

I hung up the phone in disappointment. "It's not that bad." Mack said. "At least you wrote something. Now all we have to do is wait." I huffed. "I hate waiting." Mack kissed my cheek. "Do you wanna do something else now?" I shrugged. "I would like to watch some TV actually. The Food Network." Mack laughed. "Of course." I got up and made my way to the couch. "You better cuddle with me, Mackenzie." I threatened. He smiled at me and my fake glare softened. "I wouldn't want anything more." He said. We sat on the couch, our bodies intertwined underneath a quilted blanket while watching Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives. Considering everything that's happened today, I couldn't help but wonder what I would've done if Mack wasn't here to give me ideas. I would still be the person I was months ago. Sitting around alone, not living. At least now, I knew it was possible to love someone. And that someone could love you, and that it's worth it.