Chapter Text
"Honey, you're supposed to be peeling the potatoes." Mrs. Young giggled, betraying what was supposed to be a firm redirection upon her return to the kitchen, her husband acting painfully adorable as he struggled with preparing a roux for his infamous to-be gravy. He tries at that every year.
Her heels flourished the tile in light taps as she walked closer to where he was bent over the stove. She came to a stop at the island, bracing her forearms upon its marble top. Smirking at him from behind as her voice pulled Samuel out of his unnatural concentration towards the pan he'd chosen to punish with this November's bubbling concoction of turkey fat and flour.
Predictably, a soft smile overtook his face with the presence of his beloved. Turning away from his efforts upon the burner, he was quick to rest his own arms atop the surface that was supporting her weight, leaning in enough to station his face a measly inch or so before her own. She met his efforts by delicately pressing her forehead into his, both pairs of lips curving to form impossibly warm grins with their connection.
She gave him an Eskimo kiss as she spoke, hands gripping her elbows while she let herself bask in his love for at least the billionth time. "You're really very sweet to keep trying, dear, but dinner is in half an hour…" she cooed, lifting her hand so she could snag a lose hair that had flown free of his gelled locks and smooth it back into submission, letting her palm float down and cup his jaw before continuing. "What use is gravy with a lack of mashed potatoes?" She chuckled, swiping a thumb across his cheek in order to wipe away a faint smudge of flour.
He gripped his heart, playfully. Brow never pulling away from hers as Samuel carried on with their little bit. "Oh, you hurt me, my love. To suggest that potatoes are the only starch worthy of being graced with my superior, Young family gravy."
The hand at his chest rose as she laughed, using his index finger to lift her chin. The action implored her to meet his eyes once more, both of them melting into an even softer mush of love goo as their chortles ebbed away.
"You're right. I'll put Jay on potato duty, then. He's been lounging on the couch since Ruth left, anyway." She sighed, administering a quick peck upon her husband's lips before turning. Samuel was quick to step forward, however. Forgetting about his roux in light of keeping his wife for as long as he could manage, he took a gentle hold of her upper arm. Beaming down at her, he smoothed his palm up the length of her shoulder and neck, halting it's movement upon her cheek. She was barely given an opportunity to nuzzle into said palm before his head bowed, searing her lips in a kiss far more tender than the one she had offered his own seconds prior.
Her hands traveled up the height of his torso, coming to rest upon his broad shoulders as his unoccupied hand stationed itself at the small of her back. As usual, she was the first to begrudgingly halt their intimacy, actually a little panicked at the dinner that would seriously be starting in less than thirty minutes. There's still so much to prepare.
"Oh, you really need to quit distracting me," she scolded, her tone laced with a warmth that lingered from their embrace. Softened to the near point of a coo as she squeezed his bicep, finally mustering the nerve to pull away, turning to sashay out of the arch that leads to the living room. "...we'll pick this up later, darling." She drawled over her shoulder, quiet and seductive. One of the many ways she knew to pay him back for his affections.
He swooned with the way her words seemed to echo in the air, his frame taking on a reaction that seemed almost cartoonish as it displayed all of the telltale signs of "Lovesick". With a red face branded by the goofiest smile he could muster, the scent of a burning roux barely managed to overpower the intoxicating perfume of his partner, its presence lingering about the room as it did his soul. Until the fire alarm went off, that is.
"Shit! Dad, are you alright?" Jay called, running into the kitchen with his mother close behind, both of them pausing at the entrance to observe Samuel remain in a daze, lost in his stupor despite the smoke flying off of the results of a recipe he had managed to fail for the eighth year in a row. Jay ran forward, immediately taking to putting out the flames whilst hollering for his father to snap out of it. Mrs. Young, shaking her head where she stood, snorting a bit as she breathed a laugh and considered their typical holiday seasons.
Somehow, I doubt this'll be the last fire we witness this evening.
***
Sam had subconsciously fallen within herself as she sat in the passenger seat of Ruth's maroon Honda Civic, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, the weight of consequence heavy on her shoulders. Despite how the secret Sam upheld rendered her feeling a tad bit guilty, she also couldn't control the way her lips were noticeably turned up at their corners. Or the fingers she lifted to trace the outline of said lips as she watched the world pass by in a rush.
"You seem really chipper today," Ruth mused, eyes never leaving the road with her attempt to spark a little small talk. She usually looks way more anxious than this. "Excited to see everyone?"
"Ah, no…" Sam spoke dreamily, gaze still fixated on analyzing the blur of green leaves and multicolored vehicles as they accompanied her buisied mind. She blinked before jumping to correct herself, turning away from the view that so easily managed to assist in distracting her.
"I mean, yes, of course. But, that isn't…" She paused, contemplating how wise it would be to reveal her impromptu plus-one at this juncture. If I tell her, she'll have to keep it a secret until Charles pops up for dinner. He's pretty punctual, so that probably won't be for long, but still…
"Can I ask what is, then?" Ruth queried, light-hearted and humorous as she turned a nostalgic corner, one that Sam recognized as the five minute point away from her childhood home. A mischievous, deliciously unfamiliar sense of disobedience flowed throughout her with that turn. The acknowledgement of how close they were. Her rebellious smirk taking over a grin which was once purely jovial, if not a little anxious. Huh. I'm…actually kind of excited about tonight.
"You swear to keep it in confidence?" Samara asked, that excitement infecting her tone before she pursed her lips, staring ahead as she reminisced over these familiar houses and street signs. Just like every year, if not for one huge difference.
"You've got it." Ruth swore, intrigued by this side of her boyfriend's younger sibling. A side she had yet to witness in the subsequent four years she's known her.
Sam bit her lip, that smile becoming even harder to tame as the confession swam out of her with a giggle. "I invited Charles to join us for dinner."
Ruth gasped, her own expression brightening with the memory of her friend's boss. "No way!" She laughed, the Young Manor coming into view at the far end of the road. "Yes way." Sam chuckled, happy to finally feel like a bit of a grown up this holiday.
Upon their pulling into the driveway, Ruth stopped the car and turned to her companion, effectively halting her mid unbuckle. "I'm guessing you haven't told the others." She grinned, smug though endeared by the blush that suddenly washed over Sam with her assumption. She nodded, her smile becoming more awkward as the nerves settled in her tummy once more.
"I know that Dad and Jay aren't very fond of him, but he was going to spend today alone. And, he's my friend…" She stopped, meeting Ruth's eyes with a genuine glint inside of her own, eyebrows tenting with warmth that the truth ignited within. "He's one of my best friends. I'm really excited to have him here, so, I didn't want to risk dad throwing a temper tantrum before he had the chance to show up." She explained, trying to justify her actions, even to herself. Still unable to ignore the guilt that nagged at her beside the rush of freedom her decision has provided. She'd even donned the outfit her mother had bought for her all that time ago, yellow skirt and foreignly tight shirt perfectly encapsulating her newfound--albeit unstable--ability to throw caution to the wind. Ruth's smile fell downcast a little at that.
"I feel you, Hon. But, this is still your parents' house. I promise I won't say anything to them, though I must advise that you let them know beforehand. At least when he's on his way." She softened the truth's blow with a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, undoubtedly a habit she's picked up from her years of working with children.
Sam was grateful for the understanding beneath Ruth's guidance, despite how it did nothing to ease her culpability. She took a second to consider before squeezing her eyes shut and nodding with a sigh. It was exactly what she had been telling herself since she parted ways with Charles the night before. Baby me or not, it doesn't give me an excuse to betray dad's wishes in his own home.
"Man, I really meant no harm…" She rested her forehead upon the flat of her hand, fear of the confrontation that might lie ahead forcing itself to the forefront of her consciousness with a cruel indifference towards her devotion to Charles' friendship. Ruth's gaze became worried with the hasty shift in Samara's mood, shaking her head at her sheltered, little, soon to be sister-in-law.
"It's-"
Ruth was interrupted by the sound of faint, concrete rumbles from behind, the women looking towards one another in confusion before dread overcame both of their expressions. That was definitely another car. And, he was the only one yet to show up. Until now.
Sam bit her lip, her aforementioned worries shriveling a bit with the knowledge that he had made it. It was terribly strange, for even though he was the catalyst of everything that could possibly inspire conflict amongst her family for the rest of tonight, she still felt lighter knowing that he was here now. Ultimately, she deemed herself to be pretty awful as she made quick work of stepping out of the vehicle. Her Friendship emote-kun shoving Sam onward and patting her back, the both of them swooning upon catching a glimpse of swishy, blond hair as he too climbed out and away from his car.
"Hello, Miss Young. Dr. Hadar." He greeted, eyes darting to Jay's lively girlfriend for a mere instant before traveling to land upon and stay glued to Samara's persistently adorable face. Taken aback by the happiness scrawled upon it with his presence. Happiness and…relief?
He walked forward, his own expression feeling soft and content as he rounded the car to approach his assistant. She had never abandoned her position beside the door she'd just exited, allowing herself the opportunity to bask in the tranquility he carried into this moment. This day. I'll have to muster the courage to tell him how thankful I am. Eventually…
"Thank you for the invitation. I've yet to partake in this particular American tradition. It's about time, yeah?" He laughed, hands stationed within his pockets. Looking down at her with a grin that was infinitely good natured, though there existed a subtle unnerved quality about his tone. One which didn't go unnoticed by either woman as they listened to his opening words. A pretence to the hours which lay ahead. He cursed himself for the anxiety that bubbled in his tummy, reaching an angry boil the longer he observed this woman. The more he was left to acknowledge how desperately, foolishly his heart ached for this to work out to a degree which he knew wasn't possible. She just makes me so hopeful.
"I wish I had known earlier. My mom's quite the feeder, so portions tend to get kind of ridiculous when she's the one levying out the food. We could use an extra belly." She giggled, inspiring a faint blush to wash over his cheeks and the nape of his neck. He grinned, a childish wave of emotion brandishing his psyche with her jolities. It wasn't that he felt he was going to cry, or get upset. More than anything, it was a youthful, long forgotten glee that had escaped him for so many years. One he had failed to comprehend how much he missed.
"In that case, I'm happy to volunteer, I'm famished." He lied. In truth, Charles had already eaten a burger before showing up, somehow managing to force it down with the overbearing presence of a hefty knot throughout his abdomen. Honestly anticipating the possibility of her father flat out turning him away, knowing that he'd be incapable of consuming anything after a rejection such as that.
His nerves must've bled into his features, for he was quick to jump a little as Samara reached out and pet his bicep in reassurance. "It's gonna be okay, Charles. If nothing else, I'm so happy you came."
Odd, how that was all it took for him to be swayed. Her honesty as it embraced his ears, like a Samara concerto that he felt endlessly blessed to accompany with his nod. His self-admonishing laugh escaping him within a sigh, the pair so lost in one another that Ruth couldn't help but curl her toes with the air about their chemistry. How electric they were to onlookers, yet so obviously comfortable and glad to one another. It endeared her to no end, so it pained her to interject. Knowing how Mrs. Young is such a stickler for the schedule, however, she was left with no greater option.
"I am too. Now, let's get inside. It's time to get our grub on." She pumped, successful in pulling chortles out of the two before turning on her heel and strutting towards the door.
Charles, steading himself with one final breath, offered an arm to his astoundingly beautiful date. She took it with a snort, the two of them finding it within themselves to laugh whilst subconsciously signing an unwritten agreement. As they followed in Ruth's wake, they both stood to understand what should become of the decision they had made. With the touch of her hand upon his sleeve, the words they had exchanged. They knew that no matter what tonight has in store, they've got each other's backs in spite of everything.