Sam & Mel | Nails
Apr. 30th, 2024 05:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated to April 30th Sam and Mel talk again, sorta.
Mel padded down the hall to Jay and Sam’s suite, hoping that Jay was back from work already so she could bother him. She had her nail polish and wanted to do her nails in his room. If she asked nicely enough he might even let her do his as well.
She paused when she saw Sam in their kitchen. They hadn’t spoken since the conversation. “Oh, hi Sam.”
"Hey hon," Sam said, turning to look at her with a small, slightly strained smile. "Lookin' for Jay? He's out right now......if you need somethin' though, I'm happy to fill in?"
“Oh, um, I was jus’ gonna paint my nails,” she said, fidgeting with the bag that held her polishes. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Mel cringed internally at the last bit.
Sam looked at his hand and licked his lips anxiously. "Y'know.... I been thinkin' about paintin' mine....what colors you got?"
“Blue, green, yellow, white, an’ a purple that I can’t find anywhere. I could um.. do them for you if you’d like?”
"I have black somewhere if you wanna use it, but you can paint my nails any color you want. Let me finish the dishes an' then we can start? Maybe put somethin' on?" Sam asked, tentatively.
Mel released some tension from her shoulders, trying for a smile. “Yeah, ‘course. I can help you with those real quick.”
"Nearly done anyhow, you wanna put somethin' on the tv?" Sam said, starting to wash the last dish.
“Sure.” Mel sat down in front of the couch and turned on the tv, flicking through some movies. Her eye caught on the romcom category and she glanced over at Sam, debating. After a moment of deliberation the familiar opening song of She’s the Man began to play as Mel made herself more comfortable.
Sam snorted as he dried the last dish. "Ain't you sick of this one yet? You'd think for as often as you'd seen it you mighta tried datin' a girl at least once. That's the part of the movie you like best anyhow- all those Oliva and Viola scenes."
Mel flushed for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate. So what, they were good scenes! “I ain’t sure what yer on about, it’s a good movie! Nothing more about it.” She wasn’t- was she? No, that was Sam’s thing. And Paige’s.
"All I’m sayin' is that you’ve tried just bout everythin’ else and it ain’t worked out, now has it? Girls're pretty an' all but things got a whole lot easier when I actually started tryin' to date boys too." He shrugged, and then sat down on the couch next to her. "Alright, what color are ya doin' me with?"
Blinking at Sam’s comment, Mel pushed it to the side for now. That could be an option up here… maybe. “Yellow,” she said, shaking up the bottle. “It’ll match that sweater you’ve been wearing.” And all the blue and black in his new wardrobe.
"Alrighty." Sam said, offering her a warm smile. "And what color do you want? I can do yours- hell I've done mine enough times I oughta be better at it than I was back when I lived with ya last."
“You can pick, I like ‘em all.” Mel folded her legs under her and shifted closer to Sam so she could take one of his hands. “An’ it wouldn’t take much to improve from then Sammy. I can’t believe you went out the house with polish that streaky.” She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you first. You can watch my technique.”
"'S not like it held up in the mine anyway." Sam grumbled, letting her take his hand. "What about blue for you?"
“Sure,” Mel said, but paused when she noticed the state of Sam’s knuckles. He must’ve been punching something… and she reckoned she was the reason. Trying not to bring back the awkwardness of before, Mel brushed past it and began on Sam’s nails, painting with precision.
"How're yer jobs goin'?" Sam asked. "Anythin' yer lookin' at stickin' with?"
“Miss Hope got me a job with a florist, mainly event decoration an’ stuff. It’s alright,” Mel hummed, focused on Sam’s thumb. “They’ve got me runnin’ around all over, was out until nearly midnight doin’ arrangements fer a party in Manhattan.” Well, doing the arrangements and then redoing them when the host decided she hated the colors.
Sam frowned. "Ain't you got allergies? Or was that Lizzie? Aw hell, I'm losin' my touch."
He offered a crooked smile and tried not to let his fingers twitch anxiously in her hands. "Promise not to tell on me? It'd break the twins' hearts."
“Yer secret’s safe with me. There’s eight of us, you cain’t be expected to remember everythin’.” She finished the last finger and surveyed her work, blowing on Sam’s nails a bit.
"Jay'd remember." Sam sighed. "So would Daddy.....I'm not cut out for the role I don't think."
Was that in reference to how he'd handled everything with Melody recently? Maybe. But he was good at talking around things, not talking about them. She'd get it or she wouldn't- but she'd always been good at reading him like a book.
Mel looked up and gave Sam a look. “Last I checked, Daddy ain’t around to remember much, and Jay’s got his own problems. You oughta stop comparin’. You did the best anyone coulda given the circumstances.” It was her fault anyhow. He shouldn’t’a known to begin with.
"Yeah yeah, don't mean I can't hold myself to a standard." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Dark blue or light blue for you, Mellie?"
“Light, but really Sam, we…” I “we never made it easy on ya. Nobody resents you fer doin’ what you needed to do.” It wasn’t really about Warren now, or about everyone.
"I'd believe ya more if I knew I wasn't resented for leavin'." Sam said quietly. "'S fine. I get it. Felt the same way 'bout Lucinda since I was ten and she's still there physically."
In the background, Viola got the brilliant idea to pose as her brother. Mel sighed and looked Sam in his eyes. “Listen to me, Jay’s an ass, Paige, Liz, an’ I support you, Elle’s fifteen, the twins don’ remember a time you were around, an’ I don’t reckon Jeb cares. You gotta get that nonsense outta yer head.” She wasn’t even going to touch on Mama, that was something else entirely that she didn’t have words for.
“Yeah well- I’m goin off what they said to my face, Melody. I ain’t makin’ it up.” Sam said, a bit short. “I failed y’all and I accept that.”
Mel rolled her eyes. Sam obviously wasn’t going to budge and she didn’t have the energy to fight. She reckoned she knew a hell of a lot more than he did, having been around for more than a few days every year. “Whatever you say, Samuel. We’re a family of failures- welcome to the club.”
Sam’s face fell. “Mel- that’s not- that’s not what I meant. Yer not a failure- not by a long shot.”
“Nah, that ain’t how it works. We’re failures fer havin’ to leave ‘cause of situations outta our control or we ain’t, which is it Sam? Is Jay a failure too? What about Paige fer gettin’ into college?” She had him now.
"But it weren't supposed to be yer job." Sam said. "It was my job. My responsibility. I was supposed to be able to keep control of myself long enough to get all y'all grown and ready to face the world and get out. It wasn't yer job. You were never supposed to do it. None of you were. That's why Paige got my college money and why I got Jay that guitar and why I offered to pay for you to go to tech school and-"
And she wasn't listenin' and wasn't gonna because if there's one fatal flaw he'd made sure each of his kids had it was stubbornness. Paige was right- they were takin' after him. And that scared him half to death.
“Y’know, Jay said the exact same thing when we had our fight.” She closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch. “It’s stupid. The whole thing is stupid.”
"God- yer starting to sound like my therapist." Sam grumbled half heartedly. In an admittedly poor imitation of a New York accent, he continued. "You know Samuel, it doesn't really make sense that you're upset that it was your job and then also upset that other people tried to relieve you of that job."
He pulled a face and then shook his head. "Not that that's a bad thing, my therapist is great. But....just....weird."
Mel turned her head to look at him. “You go to therapy?”
"For a few months now." Sam said. "It's been helpful- but we unfortunately have bigger fish to fry at therapy than Lucinda right now...so processing all of that will be later Sam's problem until I'm in a better place with the other shit."
“Hm, okay.” It was good that he was going at least.
Sam knocked the heel of his hand against his head. "There's a lot goin' on up here Mel-Belle. I ain't quite that good at multi-taskin'."
Mel carefully avoided his wet nails and leaned on his shoulder- a peace offering. “Mhm, well, glad yer goin’.”
Sam turned his head to kiss her temple and sighed. "Yeah....me too."
“Love you,” she whispered.
"Love you too." Sam whispered back. "Sorry for fussin'..."
“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” And she meant it. It’s just how they were, getting hung up on it would just lead to more strife.
Mel padded down the hall to Jay and Sam’s suite, hoping that Jay was back from work already so she could bother him. She had her nail polish and wanted to do her nails in his room. If she asked nicely enough he might even let her do his as well.
She paused when she saw Sam in their kitchen. They hadn’t spoken since the conversation. “Oh, hi Sam.”
"Hey hon," Sam said, turning to look at her with a small, slightly strained smile. "Lookin' for Jay? He's out right now......if you need somethin' though, I'm happy to fill in?"
“Oh, um, I was jus’ gonna paint my nails,” she said, fidgeting with the bag that held her polishes. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Mel cringed internally at the last bit.
Sam looked at his hand and licked his lips anxiously. "Y'know.... I been thinkin' about paintin' mine....what colors you got?"
“Blue, green, yellow, white, an’ a purple that I can’t find anywhere. I could um.. do them for you if you’d like?”
"I have black somewhere if you wanna use it, but you can paint my nails any color you want. Let me finish the dishes an' then we can start? Maybe put somethin' on?" Sam asked, tentatively.
Mel released some tension from her shoulders, trying for a smile. “Yeah, ‘course. I can help you with those real quick.”
"Nearly done anyhow, you wanna put somethin' on the tv?" Sam said, starting to wash the last dish.
“Sure.” Mel sat down in front of the couch and turned on the tv, flicking through some movies. Her eye caught on the romcom category and she glanced over at Sam, debating. After a moment of deliberation the familiar opening song of She’s the Man began to play as Mel made herself more comfortable.
Sam snorted as he dried the last dish. "Ain't you sick of this one yet? You'd think for as often as you'd seen it you mighta tried datin' a girl at least once. That's the part of the movie you like best anyhow- all those Oliva and Viola scenes."
Mel flushed for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate. So what, they were good scenes! “I ain’t sure what yer on about, it’s a good movie! Nothing more about it.” She wasn’t- was she? No, that was Sam’s thing. And Paige’s.
"All I’m sayin' is that you’ve tried just bout everythin’ else and it ain’t worked out, now has it? Girls're pretty an' all but things got a whole lot easier when I actually started tryin' to date boys too." He shrugged, and then sat down on the couch next to her. "Alright, what color are ya doin' me with?"
Blinking at Sam’s comment, Mel pushed it to the side for now. That could be an option up here… maybe. “Yellow,” she said, shaking up the bottle. “It’ll match that sweater you’ve been wearing.” And all the blue and black in his new wardrobe.
"Alrighty." Sam said, offering her a warm smile. "And what color do you want? I can do yours- hell I've done mine enough times I oughta be better at it than I was back when I lived with ya last."
“You can pick, I like ‘em all.” Mel folded her legs under her and shifted closer to Sam so she could take one of his hands. “An’ it wouldn’t take much to improve from then Sammy. I can’t believe you went out the house with polish that streaky.” She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you first. You can watch my technique.”
"'S not like it held up in the mine anyway." Sam grumbled, letting her take his hand. "What about blue for you?"
“Sure,” Mel said, but paused when she noticed the state of Sam’s knuckles. He must’ve been punching something… and she reckoned she was the reason. Trying not to bring back the awkwardness of before, Mel brushed past it and began on Sam’s nails, painting with precision.
"How're yer jobs goin'?" Sam asked. "Anythin' yer lookin' at stickin' with?"
“Miss Hope got me a job with a florist, mainly event decoration an’ stuff. It’s alright,” Mel hummed, focused on Sam’s thumb. “They’ve got me runnin’ around all over, was out until nearly midnight doin’ arrangements fer a party in Manhattan.” Well, doing the arrangements and then redoing them when the host decided she hated the colors.
Sam frowned. "Ain't you got allergies? Or was that Lizzie? Aw hell, I'm losin' my touch."
He offered a crooked smile and tried not to let his fingers twitch anxiously in her hands. "Promise not to tell on me? It'd break the twins' hearts."
“Yer secret’s safe with me. There’s eight of us, you cain’t be expected to remember everythin’.” She finished the last finger and surveyed her work, blowing on Sam’s nails a bit.
"Jay'd remember." Sam sighed. "So would Daddy.....I'm not cut out for the role I don't think."
Was that in reference to how he'd handled everything with Melody recently? Maybe. But he was good at talking around things, not talking about them. She'd get it or she wouldn't- but she'd always been good at reading him like a book.
Mel looked up and gave Sam a look. “Last I checked, Daddy ain’t around to remember much, and Jay’s got his own problems. You oughta stop comparin’. You did the best anyone coulda given the circumstances.” It was her fault anyhow. He shouldn’t’a known to begin with.
"Yeah yeah, don't mean I can't hold myself to a standard." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Dark blue or light blue for you, Mellie?"
“Light, but really Sam, we…” I “we never made it easy on ya. Nobody resents you fer doin’ what you needed to do.” It wasn’t really about Warren now, or about everyone.
"I'd believe ya more if I knew I wasn't resented for leavin'." Sam said quietly. "'S fine. I get it. Felt the same way 'bout Lucinda since I was ten and she's still there physically."
In the background, Viola got the brilliant idea to pose as her brother. Mel sighed and looked Sam in his eyes. “Listen to me, Jay’s an ass, Paige, Liz, an’ I support you, Elle’s fifteen, the twins don’ remember a time you were around, an’ I don’t reckon Jeb cares. You gotta get that nonsense outta yer head.” She wasn’t even going to touch on Mama, that was something else entirely that she didn’t have words for.
“Yeah well- I’m goin off what they said to my face, Melody. I ain’t makin’ it up.” Sam said, a bit short. “I failed y’all and I accept that.”
Mel rolled her eyes. Sam obviously wasn’t going to budge and she didn’t have the energy to fight. She reckoned she knew a hell of a lot more than he did, having been around for more than a few days every year. “Whatever you say, Samuel. We’re a family of failures- welcome to the club.”
Sam’s face fell. “Mel- that’s not- that’s not what I meant. Yer not a failure- not by a long shot.”
“Nah, that ain’t how it works. We’re failures fer havin’ to leave ‘cause of situations outta our control or we ain’t, which is it Sam? Is Jay a failure too? What about Paige fer gettin’ into college?” She had him now.
"But it weren't supposed to be yer job." Sam said. "It was my job. My responsibility. I was supposed to be able to keep control of myself long enough to get all y'all grown and ready to face the world and get out. It wasn't yer job. You were never supposed to do it. None of you were. That's why Paige got my college money and why I got Jay that guitar and why I offered to pay for you to go to tech school and-"
And she wasn't listenin' and wasn't gonna because if there's one fatal flaw he'd made sure each of his kids had it was stubbornness. Paige was right- they were takin' after him. And that scared him half to death.
“Y’know, Jay said the exact same thing when we had our fight.” She closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch. “It’s stupid. The whole thing is stupid.”
"God- yer starting to sound like my therapist." Sam grumbled half heartedly. In an admittedly poor imitation of a New York accent, he continued. "You know Samuel, it doesn't really make sense that you're upset that it was your job and then also upset that other people tried to relieve you of that job."
He pulled a face and then shook his head. "Not that that's a bad thing, my therapist is great. But....just....weird."
Mel turned her head to look at him. “You go to therapy?”
"For a few months now." Sam said. "It's been helpful- but we unfortunately have bigger fish to fry at therapy than Lucinda right now...so processing all of that will be later Sam's problem until I'm in a better place with the other shit."
“Hm, okay.” It was good that he was going at least.
Sam knocked the heel of his hand against his head. "There's a lot goin' on up here Mel-Belle. I ain't quite that good at multi-taskin'."
Mel carefully avoided his wet nails and leaned on his shoulder- a peace offering. “Mhm, well, glad yer goin’.”
Sam turned his head to kiss her temple and sighed. "Yeah....me too."
“Love you,” she whispered.
"Love you too." Sam whispered back. "Sorry for fussin'..."
“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” And she meant it. It’s just how they were, getting hung up on it would just lead to more strife.
