The Samantha Project (3 page)

I kissed him again.
 

“But I do like this college girl thing,” he said.

“You should probably get going,” I said. “Your friends are waiting.”

“They’re your friends, too. You should come.”

“They’re not my friends. They don’t even like me. They just put up with me because I’m your girlfriend.”

“That’s not true. They always ask why you don’t come over with me.”

“They do not. And I’ve gone with you before. The guys sit around talking sports, and their cheerleader girlfriends sit there talking about, I don’t even know what. Nothing I’m interested in. And they ignore me.”

Colin shook his head. “They don’t ignore you. They just don’t know what to say to you. If you just took time to get to know—”

“Hey, I don’t want to talk about it. Just go and have a good time. I’ve got pies to make.”

He smiled. “Okay. But you’re going out with me Friday night, whether you want to or not. Darin’s having a party, or if you don’t want to do the party thing, we can go to a movie.”

“If I must,” I kidded, smiling back.

He gave me a kiss goodbye and left. I tied the silly balloon to the dining room chair.
 

Mom walked in and noticed the balloon. “Hmmm. Isn’t that meant for a . . .”

I laughed. “Lady who just had a baby? Yeah. It’s all he could find.”

“Well, that was very sweet of him. Okay, everything’s ready for the pies. You want to make the pumpkin, the apple, the raspberry, or the chocolate cream?”

“I’ll do the pumpkin and the apple. And I get to cut the dough scraps.”

“Of course,” she said.

Dad turned up the music and we got to work. Mom always made the pie crusts and fit them in the pan, giving me the scraps to roll and cut with cookie cutters. Then I’d sprinkle them with cinnamon and sugar.
 

As we worked on the pies, Dad prepped the turkey and mixed up his secret stuffing recipe. Then he made his famous deviled eggs and a gelatin salad.

“Dad, I hate to tell you this, but nobody likes that pink gelatin fluff or whatever that is,” I said, watching him mix it up.

“It’s a classic. You gotta have this. My mom always made this for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. You like it, don’t you El?”

Mom paused before answering. “Well, it’s not my
favorite
dish that you make.”

I laughed. “She doesn’t like it either.”

Dad ignored us both. “Well, fine. More for me then.”

Mom put the pies in the oven and we sat down to watch Dad finish up. I was glad I’d stayed home with them instead of going out. I know it’s not cool to hang out with your parents, but I really did like doing stuff with them. And I loved our traditions.
 

“I’m really gonna miss you guys next year.” The words just came out. I don’t know why. I rarely said stuff like that, especially to Mom and Dad. I figured I didn’t need to. They knew how I felt.

Mom leaned over and gave me a hug. “We’re going to miss you, too, honey. But you’re going to have so much fun in college. You’ll meet new people. Make new friends. You’ll forget all about us.”

Dad chimed in. “Heck, I never wanted to come home when I was there.”

“Stephen, that’s not true. Your mom used to say that you were so homesick.”

“Well, maybe the first week or two. But I got over that. You’ll see, Sam. Once you get there and get settled, you won’t even think about home.”

“She’ll think about Colin,” Mom teased.
 

“Okay, new topic,” I said, getting up to check my pies.

Mom got up, too. “Still up for games?”
 

“I’m in,” Dad said.
 

“Me, too.” I went to the living room closet to pick some out.
 

After a couple hours of games, I went upstairs to get ready for bed. As I was changing clothes, I heard Mom and Dad talking downstairs. It was faint at first and I couldn’t figure out how I was hearing anything at all. I was upstairs with my door closed. They were downstairs in the kitchen. There was no way I could hear them from that far away.
 

Their voices suddenly got louder and I could pick up certain words. “I talked to the guy today . . . only a year old . . . have it ready . . .”
 

I opened the door. My parents weren’t anywhere near my room. They were still in the kitchen. I closed the door and listened again, this time trying to focus on what they were saying.

My mom was talking, and when I focused, I could hear her every word. “Well, then I don’t think we should wait,” she said. “Let’s give it to her in a few weeks, when school’s done.”

“Okay. I’ll tell the guy next week. Sam’s gonna love that car. And I’ll feel a lot better with her driving this new one than our old one.”

I ran downstairs to the kitchen. “Are you really getting me a car?”

“Sam, were you eavesdropping?” Dad asked.

“No, I just heard you from my room. You must have been talking loud because I had my door closed and everything.”

Mom seemed confused. “We were whispering. You couldn’t have heard us from up there. That’s not like you to eavesdrop, Sam.”

“I wasn’t. Really. I’m telling you that I heard you guys from my room.”

Dad shook his head, not believing me. “Well, I guess it’s not a surprise anymore.”

“So what kind of car?” I asked, eagerly.

Mom looked at Dad. “We’re keeping
that
a surprise,” she said. “You’ll just have to wait.”

“Maybe we should make her wait even longer since she ruined the surprise,” Dad kidded.
 

“But I didn’t mean to hear you guys. I swear.” I knew they didn’t believe me, so I went back to my room. I could still hear them talking but ignored it and turned on some music.

Another great Thanksgiving Eve, I thought to myself. Pizza, pie-making, and games, along with a visit from Colin, an admission letter from Stanford, and the news that I was getting a new—or new to me—car. It couldn’t have been any better.

I woke up the next day to the sounds of pots and pans clanking together downstairs. Dad was up and working in the kitchen. We wouldn’t eat the big meal until 1, but it took him all morning to get everything ready, even with his prep work the night before.
 

My dad took his cooking seriously. He saw it as a science, and the scientist in him liked experimenting with different ingredients and flavors. He said it let him express his creative side, which he didn’t get to do as much in his real job as a professor of genetics at the university.
 

Although my dad had excelled in his years at Stanford and could have worked at some fancy university on the coasts, he chose to return to Minnesota, to the town he grew up in. It wasn’t a small town, but it wasn’t huge city either. Fortunately for him, it was a hotbed for medical research with a large university and teaching hospital that attracted patients from all over the world. And the university had an impressive genetics department.

My mom worked at the same university. She was a professor of biochemistry. Having two scientists as parents piqued my interest in science early on. In fact, I was even planning on majoring in genetics in college.

I heard a knock on the door. “Sam, are you awake?” It was Mom. “The parade’s gonna start soon. You better get up. I’ve got cinnamon rolls in the oven.”

Another tradition. Breakfast on Thanksgiving morning was always Mom’s cinnamon rolls and fresh fruit.
 

“I’m awake. I’ll be down soon,” I called back.

I got up just as my cell phone rang. “Hi, Colin.”

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Thanks. You, too. How was last night?”

“Good. We just hung out. Watched some movie that Braden rented. How was your night?”

“Awesome. Get this. I’m getting a new car!”

“No way! What kind?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me. I don’t get it for a few weeks. Actually I think it’s used, but I don’t care. It’s new to me.”

“When did they tell you?”

“They didn’t. I heard them talking. It was so weird. I could hear them from my room. And they were in the kitchen. It’s like I had superhearing or something. Anyway, they got mad at me for listening. Said I ruined their surprise.”

“I can’t believe you’re getting a car! I’m stuck with my dad’s old car. I’ll probably have it for the next 10 years.”

“Well, I should go. Cinnamon rolls, you know.”

“Oh yeah. Every Thanksgiving morning. And I bet you’re gonna watch the parade.”
 

“Of course! I can’t miss the parade.”

He laughed. “You love your traditions, Sam. I’ll see ya this afternoon. Bye.”

As I put the phone down, I noticed a new text message. It was from Allie, saying she was home from Greece. I couldn’t wait to see Allie again. I’d missed her so much. Although Colin and I talked all the time, it wasn’t the same as having a girlfriend to talk to.
 

I went down to the dining room table, where the warm cinnamon rolls and a bowl of fruit were waiting.
 

“Hey, Mom. Allie’s home. She sent me a text.”

“Is she coming over later?”

“No. She said she’s too jet-lagged. Plus, she’s got relatives visiting. She’ll be over tomorrow morning.”

“Did you text her back with your news about Stanford?”

“No. I want to tell her in person.”

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Dad walked in, wearing his ridiculous turkey apron and chef’s hat.

“Dad, I’m all for traditions, but maybe it’s time to retire the turkey apron. It’s seen better days.”

“I think it’s cute,” Mom said, smiling up at Dad. He kissed her on the cheek, then smiled in satisfaction back at me.

“Are we waiting for Dave?” I asked.

“No, he had to go to the office this morning.” Dad sat down with us. “He’s having a real tough time at work. I don’t know what’s going on there. I’ve never seen him like this. So stressed. Overworked.”

“He’s still coming for dinner though, right?” Mom asked.

“Yes, he’ll be here around noon for the appetizers.” Dad got up. “That reminds me, I need to stuff the mushrooms. Go ahead and eat.”

“You’d think we were feeding an army,” Mom said, watching him walk away.

“Great cinnamon rolls, Mom,” I said, taking a bite.

“I made some extra to give Dave, and I thought you could give some to Colin to take home.”

“Okay. Hey, the parade is starting.”

I watched the parade, then went upstairs to get ready. When I came back downstairs, Dave had arrived and was watching TV with Mom.

He got up as soon as he saw me. “Samantha, there’s my college girl!” He gave me a huge bear hug, like he always did.

“Mom, you told him? I was gonna tell him.”
 

“He asked about your balloon. What was I supposed to say?”

Dave laughed. “Yeah, at first I thought maybe your mom had something to tell me.”

Mom laughed, too. “I’m past the age for babies, Dave. You see, Sam? I had to explain.”

“Yeah, okay. So what do you think, Uncle Dave?”

“It’s fantastic news! Of course, I didn’t think for a second that you wouldn’t get in. I think your dad’s been preparing you for Stanford since kindergarten.”

Dad walked in. “Hey, now. That’s not true, Dave. I told her she could go to school wherever she wants. The fact that she chose Stanford was just a happy coincidence.” He beamed with pride.
 

“I also applied at Cornell, where Mom went,” I said. “But I haven’t heard anything yet. Even if I get in there, it’s too cold in New York. California is way more appealing.”

Dave sat down again. “Well, you made a good choice. You’re gonna love it. College is great. I remember the time when . . .”

“Here we go.” Dad laughed. “If the college stories start, we’ll never eat dinner.”

“And I don’t think I want her to hear some of those stories, Dave,” Mom said.

“Okay, okay. Well, hey, how about you let me take everyone out for dinner tomorrow night to celebrate?”

“That’s nice of you to offer, Dave, but Stephen and I already have plans,” Mom said.

“It’s their ‘date night,’” I kidded, making the quote signs in the air. Mom and Dad had started date night a few years ago. It was about the time that I started going out on Friday nights, so they figured they might as well too.

“Yes, yes. I forgot about that,” Dave said. “Well, maybe Saturday or some other night. You talk it over and let me know. And you pick the place, Sam. Wherever you want to go.”

“Okay. Thanks, Uncle Dave.” I loved having Uncle Dave in my life. He was the type of guy that everyone liked and wanted around. He came to almost every holiday meal, and he went to my school plays, my science fairs, and was there any time I got an award.
 

Dad walked back to the kitchen. “Appetizers are ready. And the turkey’s almost done. So let the feasting begin!”

We ate appetizers, followed by a meal of roast turkey with stuffing, cranberry relish, mashed sweet potatoes, sauteed green beans with shallots, homemade rolls, and the infamous pink fluff.
 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat dessert,” I said, feeling beyond stuffed.

“Don’t be silly,” Dad said, clearing the table. “Dessert is hours from now.”

Mom got up to help. “Dave, I made plenty of pie so you could take some home along with whatever Stephen packs up for you.”

“I already have the leftovers set aside for you, Dave. You’ll be fed for the next week or so.”

“You guys are too good to me,” he said. “If I didn’t have all of you, I’d probably be eating canned soup and crackers for Thanksgiving. Here, let me help with the dishes.”
 

I got up, too. “Sam, will you take out the recyclables?” Mom asked. “Your dad’s got a whole bag ready to go out.”

“Sure.” I got my coat and the bag and went out front to the green bin that we kept near the garage. I dumped the bag and turned around to find a man standing at the end of our driveway staring right at me.

“Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” he asked. He had a strange smile on his face.

“Um, do I know you?”

“You didn’t answer my question, Samantha. I understand your father is quite the cook. Must have been a good meal.”