Not Since You by Jenna Jared Page B

don't mean to be nosy or anything, Carrie. Really. I just—don't want him to get hurt. You know. Like, you're going to be leaving again, once you sell this place, and he'll be all alone. I'm going away to college in the fall… I'm just afraid for him."
                  "He's a strong guy. I'm sure you don't have to worry, Samantha."
                  "I know he is." She sighed. "I think you hurt him before, when you left, and I just don't want it to happen again. I mean, last time you left, he had my mom. Then she died, and he had me. Now I'm leaving and…" Samantha shook her head. "I bet you think I'm an idiot."
                  "I think—I think you not only look like your mom, I think you act like her, too." Carrie reached out and touched the girl's hand. "She was always sensitive to other people's feelings, too. She was the first person to be my friend when I moved here, the first one who treated me like I didn't have a disease they'd catch."
                  "Dad says I'm just a pushover." Samantha dropped the tab onto the table and lifted the can to her mouth.
                  "And he's not?" Carrie laughed. "He thinks he has to solve everyone's problems."
                  "Yeah. I guess so." Samantha nodded, then lowered her brows over her eyes. "I guess I'm doing that, too."
                  It was Carrie's turn to quirk her brows. "You're right." She grinned. "There you go, then. You're just a sympathetic worrywart who feels like she needs to solve everyone's problems. Just like your dad."
                  "Great." The girl rolled her eyes. "No wonder I'm going to major in social work."
                  They looked at each other and laughed. Carrie reached over and touched Samantha's hand again. "Listen, worrywart. Feel like giving an old lady a hand with some wallpaper? I tried to do the upstairs hall yesterday, and the paper kept rolling over my head and getting stuck in my hair."
                  "Sure. But on one condition."
                  "What's that?" Carrie pushed her chair back and stood. Anything but telling you about your conception.
                  "Tell me about Dad when he was younger."              Samantha got to her feet. The dog leapt up and waited, tail wagging. "Was he a hottie?"
                  Carrie couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from her chest. Ah, the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree…
    *****
                  Four hours later, the upstairs hall was papered and Carrie's sides ached. She hadn't laughed so hard since she was seventeen herself. With Sarah.
                  Wise girl that Samantha was, she didn't push for any more information about the odd triangle Carrie kept with her parents. It was as if she knew Carrie wasn't ready to talk. Or not able. And Carrie wasn't going to—not until she'd cleared the topic with Zack, knew what to say and how to say it. But at the same time, Samantha wasn't about to give up on her other task: hooking Zack up with the woman he appeared to love.
    As they walked down the stairs with El Beast on their heels, Samantha said, "You have to come over tonight. It's pizza night."
                  Carrie felt a twinge of anxiety. She wasn't ready to make herself a part of Mahoney family traditions. Not yet, and maybe not ever. She was moving back to Texas. She didn't want to break Zack's heart again, any more than she wanted to break her own. "I don't know, Sam…"
                  "Oh, come on. Dad will freak. Picture it. Big jock, Captain Zack, wearing a frilly apron over his uniform—how can you refuse?" Samantha grinned. "You can bring El Beast . Maybe she'll dig in the garden and you can watch Dad have a coronary over his tomatoes."
                  "Samantha! That's not nice!" Carrie felt another round of giggles starting deep