Sam returned Rebecca's grateful smile as her mother passed the key over, but before she left, she nodded at Rebecca's armor. "Hey, it seems pretty safe here. You should take that shit off so you can hug your mother properly."

Rebecca chuckled as Sam bounced down the steps and started a slow walk down the driveway. As she started unbuckling the side straps, she looked at Laura hopefully. "Mom, can you help me lift it off?" She dearly missed the sound of her mother's laugh and loved hearing it again now.

"You don't waste any time making me feel needed, do you." Laura slid her fingers under the shoulders and lifted the armor away, draping it over the porch railing.

"I'll always need you one way or another, Mom, especially now. We've got a lot of time to make up for." Rebecca eagerly slipped back into her mom's arms and sighed happily, finally letting go of a huge chunk of the last year and a half's worth of tension and worry. Her mother's embrace brought back another flavor of safety she'd sorely longed for.

"No kidding, and lots to catch up on. She was right you know, this is much better — it actually feels like I'm hugging you, not a walking tank. I'd ask where you got all that and why you're wearing it but I'm sure it's a long story. Hell, I hardly know what questions to ask you first, because they're probably all long stories."

"You're not wrong Mom, they pretty much are. But we'll have time now, right?"

Rebecca felt her mother's arms tighten around her. "All the time we need, Rebecca. I promise."

She buried her face in Laura's shoulder again and closed her eyes. The sounds of engines turning over and doors thudding closed reached them from down below, and as happy as she was to introduce the rest of her friends, she was still desperately soaking up the time with her mother.

The interruption she was waiting for didn't come from her friends, though. Walt stepped out onto the porch with his hands on his hips, taking and releasing a deep breath. "Well, the kitchen is safe for bare feet again. I'm glad you're okay, kiddo."

Oh good, at least someone will fill in for Ronnie calling me that while we're away.

"Thanks, Uncle Walt. It's been a hell of a year and change, but... we're all here now. Speaking of which, I, uh, would have called ahead if I could, but I brought some friends."

"Just how many pairs of bare feet did I just save from severe laceration?"

Rebecca was glad he said "pairs", because she was pretty sure that in her current state she'd somehow screw up even that level of basic math. "Five, including me?"

"Oh, Walt, that shouldn't be a problem, right?" Laura rubbed Rebecca's back and shoulder idly as she spoke.

"Bed-wise, yeah, assuming some folks can share." He grinned at Rebecca. "You probably remember the stories of how loud I snore, so I've been exiled to the upstairs bedroom by your ruthless mother. She's in one of the rooms back behind the kitchen, so I reckon you'll want the other—" he jerked his head over his left shoulder. "...and the rest of your little mob can have the two next to the living room. Food might be a thing after a few days though."

Rebecca looked down the driveway towards where their friends would be coming from. "We brought some with us, too. And, a ton of gas. Some of the folks back home found a huge stash of it."

"Not bad, kid."

"Speaking of folks back home, I hope you don't mind if we make a small mess in your trees? We need to string up an antenna so we can call in and let them know we made it."

Walt grinned mischievously. "I think I have something that can help with that. I'll go dig around in the shed."

Rebecca and Laura shared a look as he went back inside, both wondering what he was up to, but their attention was drawn away by the surge of an engine as Sam led the others up the hill and parked near the base of the steps. Laura's nod encouraged Rebecca to descend the steps with her for introductions, and Rebecca felt a flush of warmth over how welcoming her mother was being to everyone. She noticed her attention linger a little longer on Epstein, maybe because of his uniform, or his arm still wrapped up in a sling?

Rebecca told her friends about the sleeping arrangements they'd been offered, and everyone gladly fell into unpacking the SUVs. She led Sam towards their room on the left side of the house, while Laura shepherded the other three guests towards the pair off of the living room. 

They opened the curtains over the two modestly sized windows, and Sam took a small tour around the room. Rebecca originally just planned to sit at the edge of the double bed, but couldn't help flopping back onto it with a contented sigh seconds after she set down.

"Well, here's that mattress we are looking forward to. It's no tropical resort, but it's cozy, I slept here a few times. Mom usually liked the room she's in now."

Sam peeked idly in the drawers of the empty dresser and poked experimentally at the flue on the small wood stove. It squeaked, but moved freely. "Wow, the real thing, and we didn't have to build it ourselves." She looked around the room like she was assessing it. "I'll take it."

Rebecca chuckled. "Oh, good. I'll tell the concierge." She lifted her hand towards Sam for help standing back up, and took advantage of the proximity to kiss her. "Hi, Rosie."

Sam smiled up at her from inches away. "Hi sugar. It's gonna be good to put our feet up."

"God, yes."

They started back towards the front of the house, and Sam briefly stuck her head into the hallway bathroom, nicely lit by the skylight, and making an approving noise. In the kitchen, Rebecca noticed a pair of small dishes on the floor against the side of the island now facing them.

She looked up at her mother, who was just telling Epstein to get over himself and ask for help getting settled if he needed it. "Mom?"

Laura met her eyes. "Yes, dear?"

Rebecca gestured towards the floor, excitement coloring her voice. "Is Sue here?"

Laura smiled. "Oh, yes! He's probably out in the back yard or snooping around in the woods. I'd bet the rain brings him back eventually."

Rebecca glanced at Sam to explain, but Sam beat her to it. "Kitty?"

"Yeah, he's our little furball."

Sam's grin widened, and she injected abundant enthusiasm into her speech. "Kitty."

Rebecca laughed. "Yes. We will snorgle him thoroughly as soon as his highness sees fit to return."

They completed another trip to and from the SUV with more of their stuff, and Walt met them where the back hallway and the side door both entered the kitchen. "Eureka!"

"Oh, wow." Rebecca glanced at what he held in his hands in surprise. It was the old training bow she'd learned on and played around with when she'd visited.

Walt looked at Sam. "If she's not too rusty, you'll be surprised how good she is with this."

Rebecca shook her head. "If, Unc. That's a tall order." She reached out for the bow and small quiver of cheap fiberglass practice arrows anyway, smiling at the unexpected source of familiarity.

Sam turned some mischievousness her way. "Well, this does explain a few things. I'm sure you're up for it!"

**

Laura stood on the porch, out of the increasing drizzle, with her arms comfortably folded and watched her daughter and friends "play in the rain". Sam had shooed Rebecca off to help with the radio project and carried the last few things in from the car. She finally stacked the snacks and water bottles on the kitchen counter, and then joined Laura, leaning her elbows on the handrail.

Laura looked over as she did. "No desire to get any wetter than you have to, huh?"

Sam looked away from the scene below to grin at her briefly. "I mean, I'd love a proper bath, don't get me wrong."

Laura returned the amused expression. "Fair. Maybe we can do something about that later."

"Oh, Mrs. C." Sam chuckled. "You know the way to my heart."

They watched as Patrick tied a string to the end of Rebecca's arrow and laid several loops of slack out on the round next to her. She nocked the arrow on the bow string, but eased the tension of her pull and rotated the arrow, resetting it.

Laura leaned towards Sam conspiratorially. "Looks like she forgot to position the arrow so the third feather, that sticks straight out of one side when you line it up on the groove, was on the side away from the bowstring. She figured it out in time."

"Heh. She's always been a quick study. Except, maybe, when it comes to listening to advice. She said you once told her she had to hear everything from two different people?"

Laura laughed, which she noticed drew a glance from Rebecca before she lined up the shot again. She contritely lowered her voice again. "I can confirm both parts of that — the statement was true throughout her teens, and I did in fact say that." She paused for Sam's chuckle, and continued. "Did the two of you know each other through school? Classes or a club, something like that."

Sam shook her head. "No, I was home for the short Thanksgiving break. We met several months later, almost a year ago now, when she arrived at the survivor settlement I had fallen into."

Both glanced up at the twang of Rebecca's release, but it seemed to fall short and the group was setting up for another try.

"Listen..." Laura spoke in a lower tone. "I'm reluctant to dig around behind her back and all, but do you know what happened with poor Jaime?"

Sam looked up at her and hesitated. "I'm not sure how much of that should come from her."

Laura's tone was apologetic. "I know. I don't want to put you in a spot, and I actually really appreciate you respecting her privacy that much. I just... there's so much I'm out of the loop on." She thought she was starting to sound despondent and tried to rein it in. "I worry I'll blunder into saying something terrible and remind her of the hurt, you know? And I so badly want our reunion to go well. Maybe just a little context, so I can have an idea of how or when to approach it with her? Nothing too personal. Did he get sick?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." She shook her head, like she was expressing her own disapproval of what happened. "It wasn't the virus, directly. He was killed while they were out scavenging, and she killed the man who did it. Maybe... just don't mention hotels."

"My god. She's had it so hard, even before..."

"Yeah." Sam grew quiet for a while as they watched Rebecca's second shot, and then the communal effort to use the string line to pull a heavier rope over the high tree limb they'd successfully looped over.

Laura's thoughts went a little distant, into the past. "Walt eventually took over because he had more experience, but her dad was the one who first taught her to use that."

Sam's tone was cautious. "Rebecca said he passed when she was nine?"

It was Laura's turn to sigh. "Yes. It was rough for everyone, but especially unfair to her. I'm glad she turned out so well."

"I know it was years ago, but I'm sorry for your loss. She gives you a lot of credit, speaks well of you."

"Thank you, on both counts. I'm glad she feels that way. Maybe every parent always wonders. I should make sure she knows I'm proud of her too."

Sam smiled at her. "I think she'd love that."

Laura mulled that over for a bit, and then tried to sound as gentle as she could for her next question. "Do you mind if I ask about your family?" She cursed at herself and knew the answer wasn't going to be a positive one when Sam glanced up at her then turned her eyes back down to the small garden bed in front of the porch.

"My brother was out in Seattle, so we don't know anything yet. I just found out this week my mom died in the outbreak... and that my dad apparently blames me."

Laura's jaw dropped before she recovered. "Jesus. That... speaking as a parent, a single one especially... that is entirely appalling and unconscionable. I'm so sorry."

Sam met her eyes again with a weak smile. "Thanks."

Laura stared off at the rope-pulling. "Listen. If I ever meet your father, and you'd like me to slap that nonsense idea right from his face parent-to-parent, it'd be my pleasure. Not just because my daughter likes you, but as a moral imperative."

Sam chuckled, and Laura thought there was a hint of ferocity to her grin. "Oh, I might have already taken care of that when he tried to take a swing at me."

"Oh, my. Again, I'm sorry, but good for you."

Sam's next chuckle seemed more like genuine laughter, rather than menacing, and piqued Laura's curiosity.

"What'd I miss?"

"I..." Sam was definitely smiling, and Laura felt better about bringing up the topics she had. "I'm just seeing some similarities, that's all. She's always apologizing for things she doesn't need to."

Laura groaned and rubbed between her eyebrows with a finger. "Well, I guess I managed to pass on a flaw or two as well."

"See, blaming yourself, and wanting to apologize for that is so extremely meta and very much like her. She's getting better about it lately, though."

"Hah. Maybe that means there's hope for me too."