Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Three
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He set his hand on my shoulder. “I have a good title.”
It would never happen. My life was too all over the place. It couldn’t be contained inside of a book, but even I had to admit, the name he suggested had a certain ring to it.
The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater.
Dre
A nurse woke me up at one point while Preppy was sleeping to draw some blood and she confirmed that despite my injuries, the baby growing inside of me was still there. Safe and sound.
I drifted off and when I woke again I was not met with just one, but two smiling faces.
One little. One big.
Both mine.
I have to tell you something, Bo signed to me.
“Bo, we can all talk later. You don’t have to tell her now,” Preppy started.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “What do you want to tell me, Bo?”
He surprised me by crawling onto the bed and wrapping his arms around my neck in a tight hug, his head on my non-injured shoulder. I looked at Preppy and smiled, happy to be with my boys again. “A hug is definitely telling me something my beautiful boy,” I said, kissing his temple.
Bo shook his head against me.
“No? That’s not it?” I asked. I released my hold on him so he could sit up to sign to me, but he only snuggled into me further. “Bo, what is it you wanted to...” I started, but I didn’t finish because the most beautiful little voice interrupted me when it began to whisper in my ear.
“I love you, Mommy.”
My soul and heart leapt together and high-fived. I have something to tell you too,” I said. I looked right at Preppy when I whispered to Bo. “Mommy’s going to have a baby.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Three months later... Dre
“Bo’s counselor is coming over in an hour,” I told Preppy who was leaning against the counter with his shirt hanging open, ogling me like I was naked instead of covered in flour from head to toe. A side effect from baking Mirna’s famous chocolate chip cookies combined with an unfortunate mixer malfunction. “Ray’s going to drop him off after she picks him and Sammy up from school.”
“Good,” Preppy said, his eyes on the swell of my breasts. “He finished his work this morning so that works.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what exactly you have him doing back there?” I asked, taking a damp rag to the counter.
“I told you. He’s working on his punishment,” Preppy answered, coming to stand behind me with his hands on my hips.
“Yes, I know. But what KIND of punishment. Like cleaning his room? Or like hard labor?” I asked, leaning back into his touch while I continued to clean. “I mean, how do you punish a kid for something like that?”
“I’ve got it handled, Doc,” Preppy whispered against my ear, his hands resting on the burgeoning bump of my belly.
After Bo took an axe to Eric’s head it didn’t take us long to put two and two together since his biological mom was also found with an axe to her head. “I still can’t believe that our boy, our little kind soul, killed two people.”
“He’s still a good kid. We just have to handle him right to make sure he knows right and wrong, but doesn’t feel too much guilt about it. I told you. I’ve been there. I’ve got this,” Preppy assured me.
I spun in his arms. “I trust you. You know I do. But can you please tell me what you have him doing in his room for an hour every day?”
Preppy grabbed my hand and led me down the hall. “You know how back in the day the teachers would make the kids copy a sentence a thousand times as their punishment? Like I WILL NOT PULL LITTLE GIRL’S HAIR?” Preppy pushed open the door to Bo’s room. “Well, that’s what he’s been doing and what he will be doing for the rest of the school year. I haven’t erased today’s punishment just yet.”
“Holy shit,” I said, as I stared at the words written over and over again on the chalk-paint wall I’d made for him.
I will not kill anyone with an axe without permission.
“Without permission?” I asked.
Preppy leaned against the doorframe. “I mean, I didn’t want to rule it out entirely. It kind of saved our asses that last time.”
That was true, but it didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t tear my eyes from the words on the wall.
Preppy pulled me into his chest and kissed my hair. “Listen Doc, if anyone knows this, it’s me. There’s no black and white. Right or wrong. What Bo did is in the grey-ish area. Together we’re going to teach him how to be a good man, which means knowing how to be loyal to those who matter. When to sacrifice where it counts. And how to keep his promises. I want to show him what he did was wrong so he doesn’t think he can go around offing anyone who pisses him off but I don’t want to make him feel too guilty for something I really want to pat him on the back and buy him a pony for.”
“We can do this,” I said, letting Preppy’s words sink in.
‘Together. Okay?” he asked, rubbing his hands down my arms.
“Okay,” I agreed. Preppy was right. Together we could teach Bo what was really important. That his past won’t dictate his future. That the things you do don’t define who you are.
That family runs thicker than blood.
Blood you’d spill for them, even if it’s your own.
Bo came sprinting into the room and threw his arms around us, making our hug of two into a family affair.
I glanced from Preppy to Bo who were both resting a hand over my belly. We’d teach him that family was everything.
And we had it all.
Preppy
Dre is a fucking miracle worker. After she recovered from her injuries she followed through with the purchase of the house she wanted to renovate with the help of a realtor who didn’t want to murder her or our family. She was five months pregnant and on her hands and knees in the house, tacking some of the broken baseboards back into place.
“You need to stop working so hard,” I said picking her up off the floor. “Why isn’t Kevin helping?”
“He is. He’s been here all day,” she said. Kevin was still living at our house and was giving Dre a hand when he wasn’t working for me. “He just ran to the hardware store.”
“Good. I don’t like the idea of you here alone,” I said.