Chapter Text
Where is she?
Tony paced back and forth between the kitchenette and living room of his apartment. He eyes the clock, willing his eyes to be playing tricks on him rather than reading the hands clearly.
8:38
He told Sam to be home by six o'clock. Getting himself to agree to that had been challenging enough. The kid was pushing and she was getting away with it.
8:40
Come nine he would be out the door and pounding on Mrs. Rossini's door. She'd have to wait upstairs for Sam to come home while he went out looking.
Through gritted teeth, he repeated back the last thing she'd said to him before slamming the door. "Going out with some friends." Sure, but what would be next?
Not too long ago, he'd never in a million years agree to her vagueness. Who was she meeting up with? Who else would be there? What would they be doing? Those questions were the minimum. In most cases he needed to see her off — know where he could find her if she lost track of time. But tonight she hadn't forgotten to check her watch. Either this was a deliberate disregard of her curfew or she was in danger. His overprotective parent instinct was the latter. However, she'd been giving him plenty of reasons to believe these days that her tardiness was intentional.
How was it that twelve can be so much older than eleven? Before moving to Connecticut she was getting into mischief, but since returning to Brooklyn, she'd been nothing but trouble. She and Charlie had taken to hanging around a group of older kids. Some of them were neighborhood toughs, or at least the toughs in training. Some had nowhere else to be, just wanting to get away from home. Others were just like Sam, wanting to give the illusion that they were older than they really were. He suspected Sam was a mix of wanting to be one of the cool kids while also seeking refuge. Above everything else, Tony suspected, she was trying to figure out where she belonged back in the old neighborhood. She had to make up for the lost time.
She missed Connecticut. She missed Jonathan and Angela and Mona and Marci. She missed Bonnie and Robin and Julia. She missed her school and her teachers. She missed having a backyard with a basketball hoop all to herself and having a picket fence. Now she was stuck with Pitkin Avenue.
She never admitted this, of course. Not since their first night in the apartment. It wasn't much different than the one they used to live in. Same building, but a floor up and slightly smaller. The pullout couch was a tight fit, but he refrained from complaining on account of Mrs. Rossini having to fight tooth and nail to get the place for them on short notice. They moved in their few belongings in silence, Sam as stoic as she'd been saying goodbye to the Bowers. She frowned through dinner, whined through dessert, then finally broke down by bedtime.
"It isn't fair!" she screamed. "It's just not fair! Why do we have to move out just because Angela's stupid husband decided to come home from the jungle? What does she see in him anyway? He's a total geek." Her rage paused long enough to scoff. "I thought Jonathan was a lizard freak just because he was Jonathan. Now it makes sense. They're all weirdos."
"Hey," Tony reprimanded, "knock off the insults. I know you're upset but name-calling isn't going to solve anything."
Sam made a face. "Oh, so sorry I offended Tarzan."
"Samantha!"
"He fired you! How do you not hate his guts?!"
"Because he's Angela's husband," he struggled to answer calmly. He took a breath before he went on. "Angela's my friend, and I have to support her decision. You don't just give up on something like marriage. If there's something you can do to fix it, you do it."
"Some friend she is to you. She let him fire you knowing we had no place else to go. She knew I'd have to leave school and my friends. I liked it there, Dad! I liked school. Now you're on a beat-up old sofa bed and I have to go back to squishing roaches!"
Her anger dissolved into tears, collapsing into her father's. He could only respond by rubbing her back and stroking her hair, desperately holding back his own tears. It broke his heart seeing her this way. A pang of guilt surged through him. He shouldn't have quit looking for a job once the two weeks notice was up. But really, what choice did he have? Angela paid him well as far as housekeepers go, but it wasn't enough to set up in the Fairfield Inn until work came his way.
He did what he needed to do. He couldn't regret coming back, at least most days. Mrs. Rossini gave him his old job back, they had a roof over their head, and they had made some good memories this past year. If only Sam could hold onto them rather than grieve their loss... though it wasn't fair to expect that of her so long as he struggled to do the same.
8:59
Pushing his thoughts aside, Tony grabbed his coat from the rack. It was on in one sweep. He was getting his keys from the counter when he heard the door slam. When he turned around, Sam was making a b-line to her room.
"Hold it right there!"
She groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm late. Chew me out tomorrow."
She started for her room again, but Tony reproached by pointing to the floor. "Get back here."
Sam obeyed if only for the excuse to make a scene.
"Where the hell were you? I was just about to go looking for you."
"Chill out. I had dinner at Reese's. Her mom just walked me home"
"I thought you were with Charlie?"
"I was. Then I went over to Resse's."
"You should have called. You know better than that."
She rolled her eyes.
"Enough of that. I don't know what to do with you anymore, Sam."
"Leave me alone?"
"Nice try," Tony said with a sarcastic smirk. "Grounded. Two weeks."
"Two weeks?! I was across the street, not hitchhiking to the Bronx."
"That the plan for next week?"
"You're so unfair!"
"Aye-oh, I don't think it's fair what you're doin' to me here. Letting me worry all night, talkin' back to me. This ain't my Samantha."
"It is now," she sneered.
With a sigh, he stepped forward so he could put his arm on her shoulder. "I know you're still upset about leaving Connecticut-"
Sam shrugged him off. "Don't talk to me about Angela!"
Tony's breath caught. "I wasn't gonna mention Angela."
"Connecticut, Angela — it's the same thing."
"You know you can always call-"
"I don't want to talk about her and I especially don't want to talk to her. Why won't you just leave me alone?!"
Sam took off for her room and slammed the door, the impact of it knocking a photo off the wall beside the door frame. Tony exhaled a mix of a sigh and a grumble as he bent over to pick it up. The glass had a small crack but thankfully hadn't shattered. He stared down at the photo, a picture of him and Marie holding Sam in front of the tree during her second Christmas.
He carried it over to the couch with him and sat down, his gaze never breaking. She'd know how to handle Sam right now, even if they wouldn't be having this issue if she hadn't died in the first place. The thought almost made him chuckle. He couldn't imagine his life having never met Angela, Jonathan, and Mona while at the same time he wished Marie had never gotten sick. He'd never actually thought of the fact he never would have stepped foot in Fairfield if Marie had stuck around.
Finally looking up from the picture frame, his eyes moved to Sam's door. Was losing Angela like losing another mother? It seemed so clear now. Not only a surrogate mother but also a brother and grandmother. Going back to two rooms and a single parent working full time had to have been difficult now that she'd had a taste of a traditional family.
His heart sank.
No wonder she's been acting out.