Leave The City (Book 8 of Adopted by the Josephs)

28. Brendon

"Please, Uncle Brendon?" Samantha was pleading with me. She wanted to go to another party and after the last one, I wasn't so sure I wanted to let her.

"I promise. I learned my lesson," she said.

I sighed, put down my fork, and looked across the dinner table at Sarah. She shrugged. It was my call but I knew she'd support whatever I decided.

"Eleven o'clock curfew, not a drop of alcohol," I said.

"Eleven thirty?" She asked. Okay. We can negotiate.

"Ten forty five," I countered.

"Eleven fifteen," Samantha countered. I considered that.

"Not one minute later. Not eleven sixteen, not eleven seventeen and definitely not midnight. Am I clear?"

She jumped up, came over and gave me a hug.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She said.

"I'm not kidding, Samantha, not one minute late and not one drop of alcohol. If I smell it on your breath and your sugar is in range, you're done. No more parties."

"I get it, I promise. I really do not want to repeat that. I swear.  I'll stick to pop and I'll get my own drinks."

"Okay. Sounds good. How are you getting there?"

"Brandi," she said. "If that's okay."

"That's fine. Oh, and I expect you to respond if I call or text you. I don't think there'll be any reason, but in case, I expect you to respond in a decent amount of time, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled.

It was Tuesday night and the party was Friday. I was glad she didn't dump it on us later in the week. And I suspected she hadn't said anything yesterday because we'd been at Pete's and she was having fun with his kids, despite them being quite a bit younger.

We finished dinner and Sam got up and helped clear the table, do dishes and put away leftovers, just like she always did.

"How was practice," I asked.

"It was good. I think we're going to do well against Santa Monica," she said.

"You're seeing your therapist tomorrow after, aren't you?"

"No. Next week. She's out of town until Friday."

"Gotcha," I said, looking at the calendar we had on the fridge. It was weird having a calendar again. With Jess, it was her activities until she got too sick to go to school. Then it was doctors, infusions, medicines and nurses. Now it was doctors, basketball practices, games, school events, things Samantha needed to keep track of and things we had to keep track of for her. I smiled at it. It was nice not to see lists of medicines, doses, nursing schedules. I missed Jess. But I didn't miss the hectic time her final months were.

After dinner was put away, Sam said she didn't have any homework left. That she'd done some at lunch and the rest when she got home from school.

The three of us grabbed some dessert and went outside to enjoy the warm weather we were still having. We just talked about nothing in particular and everything on Samantha's mind. It was a pleasure to just talk with her. She is so smart and intuitive. And funny.

At ten, I told her it was time for her to go to bed. She didn't argue, took our ice cream bowls in and disappeared upstairs.

"I think she really means it," Sarah said. "That she's learned her lesson."

"I think so, too," I said. "One thing about Sam, she sure seems to learn her lesson the first time."

Sarah and I went to bed about an hour later and I did check in on Sam. She was fast asleep. I smiled and quietly closed her door.