Beth Makes Up Her Mind.

Beth:  Sam, just get the hell off my back about it!

Sam:  Am I so wrong to want to see you happy?

Beth:  Depends on how you define it!  Mrs. Gerard with no first name!  
Is that what's supposed to make me happy?

Sam:  What the hell are you talking about?

Sam could not wrap his supremely logical mind around what Beth was
ranting about.  She did not need to work.  He made more than enough to 
support her in comfort.  He understood why she might want to do something,
but why in hell should she go out and give her best to somebody other than
herself, or him.  The way she was slamming their breakfast around the
kitchen he knew he wouldn't understand the answer he was about to get.

Beth:  What do you want me to do?  Stay here full time and take care of 
you?  Bake cookies, maybe?

Sam:  Yeah!  I wouldn't mind...cookies!

Beth set her teacup down so hard it shattered.  Fortunately she had not
yet poured the water.  Sam was taken aback, but not so much so that he
couldn't make a quick examination of her hands, to make sure they hadn't 
been cut by the breaking glass.

Beth:  I am not.  A child.

Sam:  Nobody said you were...

Beth: I did not cut myself.  I will not break.  Stop this!

She had warned him about this, she had told him he wouldn't know her if
she ever got this angry.  And she was right, he didn't know her.  In fact,
he was more than a little frightened of her.  She looked like she could
tear him into little pieces without much thought.

Sam:  Beth, honey, let's talk about this, okay.

Beth:  I don't have time right now.  I have to go to work.  But when we
do sit down to discuss it, let's you and I talk about it instead of
Sam talks and Beth listens, alright?

Sam:  I had no idea this would upset you so much.

Beth:  Then apparently you weren't listening.  Any more than you listen to
me when I tell you I wish to Christ you had never laid eyes on that airplane.

Sam:  Let's not get into that, Beth.

Beth:  That's right!  Let's not get into that, Beth, because it's 
something that upsets me!  Now, now, little woman, don't let this disturb
you!

Sam:  Honey, if you're goin', you'd better do it.  You'll be late.

Beth:  You're putting me off again!  And where are you off to today, Sam?

Sam:  El Paso.

Beth:  In the airplane?!

Sam:  Yes!

Beth:  I thought so!  Dammit!

Sam watched her storm out, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong,
hoping she made it to work safely.  Meantime Beth drove with her hands
rigidly clenched on the wheel, fighting back tears of rage, and hoping
Sam made it to El Paso and back safely.

Each had a busy day planned, with no chance to call the other.  Beth
firmly resisted the urge to email him with an apology.  Sam wouldn't have
seen it if she had.  She only knew that, by the time the day's events had
played themselves out and she had driven home, she was no longer angry.
And she had come to a decision.

She had known she would arrive home earlier than Sam.  On those nights when 
he was flying, she let herself into the empty house and had to deal with 
the sense of unease that knowing he was somewhere abroad, in that miserable
craft, always gave her.  The one way she had found to mitigate that fear was
to wrap herself closely in something of his - and the USM jacket was perfect
for these fall evenings - and to retreat to the patio with a cup of tea and
watch the sky.  It was purely sumbolic, but potent symbolism all the same.
And it worked...it always worked.  She was finally able to breathe again 
when, at around eight o'clock...she heard him coming in, safe and sound,
whole and hers.

Sam had spent the better part of the day in El Paso consulting on a
case with the Border Patrol.  In all likelihood a trustee from a
minimum security prison had crossed the border somewhere after he had
walked off a work detail the day before.  Sam helped Border Patrol
agents determine the most likely place.  He hopped aboard a puddle
jumper back to Lubbock International airport where he had left his car
that morning.  Beth still insisted on driving her fifteen year old
Subaru because of events just like this.  She said their schedules
warrented two cars, and she always seemed to be able to talk him into
taking the new one.  He chuckled to himself at how easy she could talk
him into things, generally without his even being aware of it.  He
wanted to feel that he could do the same to her, but he just wasn't
sure.

It was almost 8:00pm when he pulled into the garage.  It was quiet
when he entered the house.  The sun had nearly set, and with no lights
on, it was pretty dark inside.

Sam: Hon?

What little light that shone into the living room came from the
sliding glass door that opened onto the patio.  It was slightly ajar
and Sam figured that Beth was sitting out there.  Sam slipped out the
door to see.

Fall was beginning to make an appearance.  There was a slight nip in
the air and clouds were bringing the threat of rain before the evening
was over.  Right now they were only bringing the most spectacular
sunset he had ever seen.  Then he glanced over at Beth sitting in the
patio swing, USM jacket buttoned up tight against the cool breeze, a
cup of tea in her hand.  No doubt her favorite, Earl Grey.  She seemed
to be lost in her thoughts until she turned to him and smiled.

Beth: Hey, handsome.

Sam walked over to her and eased into the swing beside her.  He kissed
her lightly on the lips, lingering there for a moment, then slipped an
arm around her, giving her a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead.

Sam: Hi, baby.  What're you doin' out here?

Beth: Thinking.

Sam: Well, why don't you think me up...

Beth laughed and put her free hand over his mouth.

Beth: Everybody's a comedian.

Sam chuckled, softly gripped her wrist with his hand and kissed her
palm.  He gently pulled her hand away, lacing his big fingers between
her tiny ones and rested her hand on his thigh.  They sat in silence
for a while.  Beth concentrating on a crack along the patio floor. 
Sam concentrating on Beth.

Beth: You remember my friends with the restaurant?

Sam: In that little shopping center on 4th?

Beth: Yeah.

Sam: Sure.  Nice couple.

Beth: They've asked a couple of times before about hiring me to
design a webpage for the business.  They even know a couple more
restaurant owners who'd like to do the same thing . . . . . . .
Tonight I told them "yes."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed in frustration.

Sam: Baby, when are you gonna sleep?  You hardly have time to turn
around NOW.

Beth: Actually, I thought it might give me some MORE time . . . time
to concentrate more on my writing . . .

Sam: What?!

Beth: . . . after I leave my job.

Sam stopped in mid-thought.  He wasn't quite sure what he had just
heard.  His voice was quieter.

Sam: Do what?

Beth: I just gave my two weeks notice.  Like I said, I've got a few
freelance website jobs lined up, maybe I can line up more.  I've
already got the computer and software to do it.  And I'll have more
time to concentrate on my writing.

She laughed.

Beth: And SELLING my writing.

A slow smile crept up on Sam's face.  He grabbed Beth in a mighty
hug.  His voice a whisper.

Sam: I love you.

Beth reached behind her, searching for a flat place to set her mug
down.  She delicately balanced it on the arm of the swing and then
wrapped both her arms around Sam.  And as the sun slipped behind the
horizon to mark the close of the day, something new was just opening
up. 

"Beth Franklin" - 1998

TO BE CONTINUED...Sam and Beth have a 'discussion'...