Oh Ms Believer

72. Tyler

"You want to do what?" I asked Samantha when I came back into her hospital room after she had a session with Doc.

"I think that's an amazing idea, Sam," Jenna said. I didn't disagree, I was just taken aback. I knew Samantha was compassionate but I didn't think she'd take it to this level.

"I want to start some sort of, like, foundation, or charity or even a scholarship or something, in Blaine's name.  Something to celebrate the good things Blaine did. He was really an amazing person beyond being a great friend.  He isn't here and even if he were he couldn't have lived forever. But I want to make him live on forever," she said.

I stared at her. Where did she get this capacity for compassion and empathy?  Her upbringing should have left her a jaded, angry and maybe even vengeful person. Something her mother managed to do before her death must have cemented this level of compassion in her. I wanted to cry with how sweet this idea of hers was.

"I. Samantha, honestly, I'm speechless,"

"Uh oh," she said. "Mom, I think I broke Dad."

"Samantha, if this is what it takes to break your father, I'll take it. I just can't believe - well, that's not actually true. This doesn't completely surprise me coming from you. Maybe your age does, but then, at 17, you've seen both good and bad people in your life.  That you always focus on the good in people, just amazes me. I am so, so, so proud of you. And so proud to call you my daughter."

Samantha blushed.

"But, Dad," she said. "I'm gonna need your help. Because I can't access my trust fund from... you know who. But why shouldn't that money also do some good?"

"I kinda thought you could use that for school and getting started in life," I said.

"I have more than enough from the first instalment, and I think he left me more than I really need just for myself. It wouldn't take the whole thing? Would it?" She asked.

"Well, probably not. I'll talk to Chris, we'll get this started. You just have to come up with what you want to do. Foundations, Scholarships and charities are very different entities and require different things to set up. But I'll set up a meeting with Chris and you and I as soon as you're one, out of the hospital and two, know what you want to do," I said.

"Okay," Samantha said, smiling.

"Where did this come from, anyway?" Jenna asked.

"Talking to Doc and Dad. They both said that the best way to thank Blaine was to live a good life and do good things. Why shouldn't Blaine still get to be a part of that?"

That did it. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I went over to my daughter and hugged her.

"Sam, I can't describe how proud I am of you. How proud Mom and I are of you. I don't know how you've managed to be this incredible person with everything you've weathered, but you are. And you just keep amazing and impressing me."

She blushed again. I didn't care.

"Also, I think I'm pretty lucky that I've got people in my life who can help get this off the ground. Who have a much bigger reach than I do," she said.

"You've got more of a following than you seem to remember, missy," I smiled at her. She shrugged.

We visited with her for a little longer and then Jenna went home to get the littles some dinner and then to bed. Josh and Debby had come a little while after we had talked about Sam's plans. We didn't say anything to them just yet. Sam knew she needed to think about what she wanted to do and I didn't want her getting too many opinions that might confuse her. And I know Debby and Josh would want to be involved somehow. I had a feeling Brendon and Sarah were probably going to be invited to be involved.

I got comfortable in the chair beside Sam's bed as she was texting furiously on her phone.

"What are you writing? A novel?" I asked her.

"No," she said, concentrating. "I'm texting Jill, Cameron, Paige and Mason, and a couple others, and telling them what I'm thinking, and what they think we should do."

"We? I thought this was your thing?"

"Yeah, but Dad, my friends were Blaine's friends, too. They might want to be involved. Somehow, anyway."

That was our Samantha. It might have been her idea and she might be the one whose name would be connected to it primarily, probably. But she wouldn't let her friends not help out and get some credit, too. I smiled at her as she read what her friends sent back. She'd nod or frown, wrote something on a piece of paper from her notebook that she was keeping up with schoolwork in.

I could see she was googling things as well and making notes. She was really serious about this.

"Sam, it's not something that can be done in a night. Take a break. Get some sleep. You just had surgery and you're still on antibiotics. In case you forgot," I grinned at her.

She frowned at me, yawned and conceded she needed sleep. I helped her get ready for bed and we turned on the TV to see what basketball games might be on. We found a Miami Heat/Golden State game and watched that for a while.

Samantha fell asleep pretty quickly and I watched her as she slept. Since Saturday, even with having had appendicitis and possible sepsis, she looked, I don't know.  Better. Lighter? Less ... stressed. I smiled. She may have found what would help her heal from the guilt she carried.

I hoped so.

I fell asleep shortly thereafter and dreamt about Samantha. She was accepting some award or something. She looked older. She looked strong and confident, a smile across her face that reached those piercing blue eyes. I just kept seeing images of Samantha succeeding. Things I wanted for all my girls. Things that made them happy, but helped people, too. We were in a unique situation to be able to do these types of things. And I knew Samantha knew that. She'd admitted as much.  

When I woke up in the morning, Samantha was writing furiously in her notebook. At first I though she was doing homework but quickly saw it was not schoolwork.

"I think I know what I want to do for Blaine, Dad," she smiled. And her smile made those beautiful blue eyes sparkle. My Samantha was coming back.