Dedicated to @iammarianas for the amazing cover at the top💖

4M? Lit.

Chapter Thirty-Eight: "Headless Barbie Dolls."

WITH MY EYES STILL closed and a small weight on my back that was obviously Soccer who made my back his pillow, I reached out to the side of the bed where Sam was supposed to be on. I met with the other side of the duvet. I opened one eye, looking at the obvious indent on the bed that proved that he actually fell asleep beside me last night.

How Soccer ended up on me was a mystery.

I moved slowly, hearing him shift on my back and eventually leap off and settle back on the bed where Sam had been. I rolled over on my back, looking around Sam's old room. Although, most of his things were back home it was clear that by the stuff still in this room that it made it seem like he never possibly left.

Although, the interior of it didn't represent him. The walls and the floor didn't scream like a color he would want. It made me think that as a kid he was put in one room and went along with it for that time in his life. Then when he moved, he made that room his own.

The soccer jersey's that hung in a row along the wall definitely seemed like him. Along with the guitar perched in the corner of the room and the pictures and posters of soccer players on his wall. That was it.

I got out of the bed and went into his bathroom. About a half an hour later and my hair tied up into a ponytail, I made my way through the huge place, trying to remember where the kitchen was. I let my hand touch the wall as I continued to follow through the hallways, past many closed doors.

I walked down the spiral staircase, my hands shoved into the pockets of my sweater. When reaching the bottom, I let my feet slide against the ground and I let out a little laugh at my antic. Just when reaching the kitchen, I pushed the door opened by sliding in and was greeted by the sight of a shirtless Sam.

He held the spatula in one hand as he turned to give me a once over. "Good morning to you."

I slid over to him, almost like I was skating. "Morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah." I told him, leaning my head on his back and wrapping my arms around him from behind. "You?"

"Pretty good," He said, grabbing one of my hands and he chuckled.

"What's so funny?" I asked him.

"Nothing."

"Why do you always cook shirtless?"

"Why not?" He responded, glancing at me. "After breakfast I want to show you something."

"Like what?" I let go of him and he turned around. My attention was distracted for a mere second before I lifted my eyes back to his face.

"Don't question it," He waved the spatula towards me. "Just follow me after you finish eating and I'll show you."

"Where is it?" My curious mind just had to ask.

"It's in the forest." Forest. The Cahills owned a forest. Holy. 

"You're going to take me to the forest?"

"Yes," Sam's eyes narrowed. "And before your imagination takes you somewhere far from reality, I am not going to kill you."

"I wasn't thinking that." How far did he think my imagination was?

"I am not going to throw you over my shoulder and throw you into the indoor pool either."

"Okay, I was thinking that." I admitted.

"Of course you were." He chuckled. "Maybe I'll do that later."

"Don't." I warned him, taking a seat and looking around the open kitchen. "This castle is really unbelievable."

"Don't call it castle. Just call it a really big house."

"Sam, it's a castle. You can't call a place like this a house. It's not just a house. It's not even a mansion like one back home. This is a castle."

"It's a castle. There? Happy?"

"Extremely."

While we were eating, my eyes trailed over to Soccer who was eating his own food on the ground. "Where's your grandfather?"

"Probably taking a walk with a couple of his lady friends."

"Lady friends?" My eyebrows rose in surprise. "Charles has lady friends?"

Sam smiled. 'The Cahill charm runs in the family."

"I've noticed," I said. "Does he stay in this huge place all by himself?"

"Not all the time. He goes around the world a lot, stays here for a couple of weeks. He has friends that keep him company everywhere but-"

"He's still kind of alone, Sam."

"What am in supposed to do? Move back here for good? Move him to Manchester? He's a grown man, Hazel. He's lived most of his life. It's his choice on where he wants to go. It's his choice on where he wants to stay."

Soccer barked, leaving his food alone and nudged his nose against my foot. Sam noticed and moved my plate away from me. "Okay, Soccer knows what's up. Let's go."

My eyes widened and I reached out for a strawberry but Sam moved my hand away. "But I didn't finish."

Sam grabbed the shirt he had on the table, putting it on as he started dragging me out of the kitchen. "You can finish it later."

"But my pancakes will get cold."

"You can finish it later." He repeated.

"What about the sausages?"

"You can finish that later too."

"But the strawberries," I complained. "The strawberries were good and now you're taking me away from one of the best fruits ever?"

"I'll give you a nice apple after we come back, okay?" He laughed, quickly walking us towards the front of the house, almost knocking into the statue that was in the middle of the corridor.

"Careful," I told him. "That looks really expensive."

"It's a fake. Phillip broke the real one when he was three. Toby broke the first fake one after that and then Joey broke the other fake one."

"This is the third fake one?'

"Actually, I think it's like the seventh. Remember? All members of my family have lived in this place at one period of their life. Peter probably broke it twice."

"Of course." I smiled. Sam handed me my jacket and a hat and just looking outside from the window even though it wasn't cold nor was it snowing I could see how cold it was by the frost building up outside.  

"Let me get soccer his leash and I'll be right back." Sam told me. 

As he went up the spiral staircase, I couldn't help but shout, "Are you serious? You could've done that and I still would have been eating in the kitchen."

All I got was a laugh in return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why does nature look so much cooler in the winter?" I asked, my camera held up to my eye. "Like the frost on the trees and the ground. Everything looks so much prettier."

"The real question we should be asking is why you wanted Soccer to wear the little coat and shoes Maddy got for him?"

"Because they make him look like a cool dog. It's a Nike coat for a dog and you're wearing Nike jacket. It was perfect. It's even the same color."

"I was fine with you guys getting him shoes or something but a coat? He has fur."

"He could still get cold." I pointed out, gesturing to the cloud of air that appeared whenever I spoke. 

"Macy." Sam said.

"Samuel. You're wearing matching jackets, it's a sign."

"A sign for what?"

"For me to take pictures of my two guys in their matching outfits." I said with a smile. 

Sam picked Soccer up, giving me a fake smile. "Like this?"

I put the camera away from my eye. "You could at least be a little more genuine."

"Okay, okay, but after. It's right up over here." Sam grabbed me by the hand, pulling me over to a spot in a tree that looked shorter than the ones around it. 

"A treehouse." I said in awe. "Did you guys build this yourselves?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure it was before Phillip was born." He said, pulling on the wooden ladder as if to check if it still stable. "Okay, here."

"We're going to leave Soccer down here?"

"I'm not risking him falling out of the treehouse. Go on up, I'll meet you in a second."

I slung my camera around my neck and started pulling myself up the high ladder. When I reached the top, I stood on the solid platform where a railing surrounded the exterior like a self-made porch. I opened the wooden door and stepped inside what looked like a mini man-cave for the Cahill boys.

There was no sign of any electronics except for wireless speakers in the corner of the room. There were board games stacked between two bean bag chairs, a rug in the center of the ground, decks of cards and poker chips on a table. On that table as well, I spotted something strange.

Headless Barbie dolls.

When the door opened behind me just when I had taken one of the dolls in my hands, Sam started chuckling. "Do you remember all the teasing we usually do about how Ivan obsessively played with dolls when he was younger and none of us let it go?"

"Yeah."

"Those are some of the dolls and we found them hidden here years ago and then when we teased Ivan about it ripped the head out of all the dolls as if to prove a point."

"That's a little scary." I admitted, putting the doll down.

"Yeah." Sam mumbled, reaching down to pick up a tennis ball and sit down in a bean bag chair. "We were supposed to add a lot of things here but eventually we all grew out of it. Like, over there was supposed to be a slide and Toby when we were younger drew out plans with Ivan to make a swing set."

He tossed me the tennis ball and I caught it, observing the splatter of paint on one side of the wall. I pointed at it. "Lucas?"

"Yup." I tossed the tennis ball back and Sam grabbed a deck of cards. "Want to play poker?"

"In a little bit." I walked over to a telescope that was positioned right by the makeshift 'window'. You guys realized that you can barely see the stars from this angle, right? Your view is mostly trees. Hundreds of trees."

"It complimented the place, okay? We thought we were cool back in the day because we had a telescope. Ivan's words, not mine." Sam said behind me. I held onto his hands that were laced in front of my stomach, the both of us moving towards the table.

I played with the toy spring that was on the table. "Phillip's?"

"He loved that thing a little too much."

I moved over to the screwdriver on the table. "Let me guess? Toby."

"Correct."

There was a drum stick on the corner of the table and I picked it up, tapping it on the table. "Cedric's." My hand skimmed over the guitar pick on the table. "This is either yours or Joey's."

"I'm glad you know my brothers well but that didn't belong to either of us. That was Bethany's."

Sam gently took it out of my hands, twisting it in his fingers. His chin was on my shoulder and he let out a sigh. There was a moment of silence before I spoke. "Your grandfather told me something interesting yesterday."

"Before or after he showed you the horrible baby photos?"

"Before. You were an adorable baby. Don't forget that."

"Judging by the amount of picture you had taken, I'm guessing you won't forget it either."

I smiled, thumbing the straps attached to my camera. "Um, so he told me that you've never gone to her grave."

Sam took a deep breath before he answered and I didn't have to turn around to see the look on his face. "Just, um, just give me time."

"I wasn't going to tell you that you have to go like I'm about to force you. Take all the time you need. I just found it completely unbelievable when I heard that."

"Why?"

"Because you've come back to Bath many times, while we're dating, before we were together, before I even knew you existed. You come back to Bath and it's like you're reconnecting your home, with your past, with Bethany all over again. And I just thought that you would go to see her every now and then, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

"It's just a thought."

"It was a pretty good thought," He told me while letting go. I turned around to face him. He grabbed the poker chips and the cards. "I don't want to leave Soccer down there so how about we head back and I can beat you in poker fair and square?"

Way to change the subject Sam. I allowed him to do so, grabbing the pack of cards from his hands. "You're on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're in Bath?" My dad asked me through the phone.

"Yeah. We're leaving tomorrow midday." I said, my fingers skimming the walls. "Where's J?"

"Home. Doing homework."

"On a Saturday? Isn't it 3 o'clock there? Justin? Is he actually doing homework?"

"Well, he's in the living room right now. He's been reading a book for English or something like that and making notes."

"What are you doing?" I asked my father because he sounded a little bit distracted while talking.

"Thinking."

"You're thinking? Dad, you okay?"

There was a pause. "We need to talk."

"That doesn't sound good."

"I don't know how this conversation is going to go. I asked Justin about this and he said it was okay. I think the only thing is that I have to ask you. You're my daughter, you're my first born. I should know how you'll react to this. But at the same time I have no idea how you're going to react to-"

"Dad," I Interrupted him, walking into the room Charles was reading a book in. Some type of den. Charles gave me a smile, closing the book and I listened to my dad who rambles a lot when he's nervous. "What is it?"

"I have a...date."

I froze. "A what?"

"A date, Macy."

My dad is dating?

I took a moment to speak. "This, is, uh this is what you wanted to tell me?"

He sounded nervous. "Yes. I wanted your opinion on this."

"Dad. Do it. What the heck? Why would you think I would have a problem with this?"

"That's funny because Justin said the exact same thing to me except he left the room after."

"This is great. It'll be awesome for you to find someone again. Who is it?"

"Do you remember the Cahill Christmas party-"

"Wait, wait, wait, you mean Ms. Acosta. Sydney' mom? Sydney the one who is dating Lucas-her mom?"

"Yes. Danielle."

"Interesting," I said. "Well, go for it."

"Really, Mace?"

"Yes. Really. I want you to be happy. You'll always love mom but it's completely okay to move on. You- as weird as it is for me to say these words- dating is a good thing dad."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. Don't hold back on this decision. I'll call you tomorrow."

"You really sure Mace?"

"Bye dad." I said, hoping that answered the question for the final time.

"Bye honey."    

I hung up the phone, slipping it into my pocket and taking a seat next to Charles. "So Charlie, how was your day?"

"How was your day?"

"You didn't answer my question, Charles."

"You didn't answer my question, Macy." I frowned at him and he laughed, a good old cackle when Soccer trotted into the room. "Whose idea was it to name the poor pup Soccer?"

"Mine." I said tentatively.

"That explains a lot." Charles muttered.

My jaw dropped. "That's mean."

Charles laughed again. "I'm only joking with you. Speaking of soccer, I hope you and Samuel both make in the football world."

"Sam's already getting there."

"So are you, Macy. You're both going to get there."

"Thank you."

"Of course. The sound of someone lightly hitting against the door got our attention.

Sam walked in. "I'm putting in a film. You want to watch?"

"Yeah," I got up, glancing back at Charles. "Are you coming?"

He waved a hand, picking up his book. "You kids go watch. I'll stay here."

"Once again, old man. We aren't kids." Sam said.

"Shut up." Charles told him and both of them laughed.

I curled my legs up on my couch, leaning my body again Sam as we ate the last slices of our pizza two hours later. "I feel so at peace."

"Really?" He asked quietly, putting an arm around me and muting the movie playing on the TV with the remote.

"Yeah. You were right. Time with just the both of us...and your grandfather is what we needed, you know?" I turned my eye back to the giant TV but could still feel Sam's eyes on me.

I could hear him eating for a second before he pressed a kiss to the side of my head. "I'm glad we're talking again."

"Me too." I said looking up at him and I press my lips against his own, cupping his jaw and pulling him against me. He tilted his head, slanting his lips over mine and kissing me like hasn't done so in what feels like the longest time.

I know we don't stop for a while, his hands by my sides and his scent and everything consuming me like it always does wherever we are. When we broke apart, he was breathing harder and ran a hand over his face.

I sat back, shutting my eyes with a smile on my face. I felt Sam pull me onto his lap and wrap his arms around me. I let out a sigh in the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss to his jugular.

"Those weeks sucked. Especially Valentine's day. That day was awful."

"Sam..."

"I missed you so much," His hold on me tightened and I felt like I was being pressed into his body.

"You're squishing me." I laughed against his chest.

"Sorry," He pulled back, looking me in the face. "I mean, just not being together like we should be hurts, you know?"

I intertwined my fingers with his own, shooting him a sheepish smile. "No offense, but I feel like I should point out that I'm usually the dramatic, exaggerate one in this relationship."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sometimes you need a mute button."

"Sorry babe." I mocked him in his accent and he laughed.

"That was cute. But not accurate enough," We both laughed again but it slightly slipped off his face. "But I'm not joking those days-weeks actually sucked."

"I know."

"Next time we have an issue or problem, can we talk it out? And by talk it out I mean at least yell at me whenever I'm being completely ignorant?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I will." I promised before my eyes loomed over to the pizza box on the table. "There's one more pizza left." I informed him.

I looked at him to already staring at me. Oh no.

He reached out for the slice but I slapped his hand, reaching for it myself. Sam pushed my arm back, reaching for the pizza again but I used my foot to kick his arm and sit down on him.

Before I knew it, I was on the ground and I was pulling Sam away from the pizza box, my adrenaline pumping to get that pepperoni pizza.

Sam clearly wasn't having it because when my had moved up to grab the table, he had by some reason stood up and started pulling on my leg, dragging me out of the room. I started kicking at him, not helping myself by laughing. "Oh my God, Sam get off of me!"

"No." He left me there and started to run back to the living room but I stuck a foot out where he tripped over it, his hands out forward so that his fall wasn't hard. "Fuck." He grumbled.

I laughed, quickly getting up and running towards the living room, right by him but he stuck his hand out, holding me back. I struggled to move forward, Sam's grip on my leg hard to yank me back and I fell forward, my hands bracing my fall. "Are you kidding me?" I muttered as Sam tried to climb over me but I tackled him to the ground, my hands holding his forearms down.

"I want it."

"Fight me for it then." He teased, getting on hand out of my grasp to reach around my back and climb up the back of my shirt.

"Gladly." I mumbled, lowering my head to kiss him but stopped when I heard someone laugh.

"Is this what kids do these days? Fight over pizza like savages?" Sam's grandfather asked. I twisted my head to look at him. He looked highly confused and entertained by the sight in front of him.  

"Um..."

I glanced at Sam and he laughed. "Between us? Yeah."

"Why can't you just split it?" Charles asked us.

"Because that is not as fun as fighting over it." Sam got up and out of my hold, running to the living room. I was hot on his heels, jumping on his back and because he fell out of shock, I grabbed the pizza first.

I took a bite out of it, sitting on his back. "I win."

Sam gave me the driest look and I tore the pizza in half, shoving some of it in his mouth. "Here, happy?"

He turned over on his back so that I was straddling him properly and after a couple of seconds, he swallowed. "Ecstatic."