Sing it, Sam

by Jennifer Ryder

  Mr Thompson has kept his clothes on, which means everyone’s happy. Each time I look at him though, the image of his old penis comes back, clear as anything. But then I try to remember Sam’s laugh instead.

  Today, Sally-Anne is off again. I should accept the fact that she’s barely here—it’s just a hard pill to swallow when I know I could be giving the residents more attention. They deserve to have a full-time events coordinator, not one who’s picking up the slack elsewhere.

  In Sally-Anne’s absence, I open Kathleen’s diary in Outlook and create an appointment for her to meet with Wayne, one of the gardening contractors, later today. I scan over her diary for the afternoon to check if she needs help preparing for anything. When her next meeting is with none other than Ben Marshall, I do a double take. Why are they meeting?

  I pick up the phone and buzz her office.

  “Yes, Jane,” she answers in a curt tone.

  “Hiya. Just letting you know I’ve scheduled a meeting for you with Wayne at four.”

  “Great. Thanks.” Her response is just as sharp.

  “Um, so I see you’re meeting Ben Marshall soon.”

  “Yes.” A cool silence follows.

  “What about?” Oh, god. Did that just come off as nosey as it sounded?

  “I can’t discuss the details, Jane.”

  Bummer. “I understand. Sorry.”

  “What I will tell you is that the meeting is at my request.”

  That little clue doesn’t give me anything. Shit.

  ***

  When Ben strolls into the foyer half an hour later, I wage an internal battle. Do I grill him for the details of his meeting or stay out of it?

  No. I can’t ask. It’d be unprofessional, and if Kathleen was to overhear me, given our earlier conversation, I’d be guaranteed a trip to her office. Miss Rhynehart, a word …

  It really is none of my business, but Sam? I’m kind of making him my business. We have a thing. Well, it’s more than a thing.

  Stop interfering, Jane. If Sam wants to talk about it, he will.

  “Hey, Ben,” I say, and stand as he reaches the counter. He’s carrying a stack of magazines in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. Wait a second, is that —

  “I brought doughnuts,” Ben says, placing the bag on the counter. “For you and Sam.”

  The sweet cinnamon scent drifts through to my workspace, sending my tastebuds into overdrive. I clutch at my neck as my mouth waters. “Wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

  “Apparently, I did. Sam insisted. In fact, he had the gall to tell me I was a shit of a brother for not supplying him earlier.” He winks. “You’re making me look bad, Jane.”

  “That was never my intention.” I pull the bag from underneath the glass panel and then slide through the sign-in book.

  “Mr Marshall,” Kathleen says from behind me in a sugary tone. “Right on time.”

  “I’d never be late for you, Mrs Peters.” Ben enters the time and signs his name then puts the pen down, pushing it towards me with a smile.

  Kathleen laughs softly, and a pink hue rises to her cheeks. Oh my god, is she blushing?

  My boss buzzes the secure doors, and walks out to the side, ushering Ben to the right. “Come on through to my office. Ah, Jane?”

  I swivel in my chair, giving her my full attention. “Yes?”

  “Can you please call Paige and send her to my office?”

  The meeting includes her as well? “Sure. No problems.”

  “Hey, Ben?” I call out.

  He turns his upper body to face me and rakes his fingers through his curls. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks again.”

  He nods. “Pleasure is all mine.”

  Once they’re out of view, I contact Paige on the two-way radio, and direct her to Kathleen’s office. What I’d give to be a fly on the wall in that meeting.

  To stop my imagination running wild, I focus on doughnut number one, inhaling it in three bites. Five crispy brown rings continue to steam in the bag. If I wasn’t stuck at my desk, I’d totally run them down to Sam. But I can’t, so unfortunately, he’ll have to wait.

  It’d be sad to not eat another doughnut while they’re hot. Poor sad doughnuts. I don’t want you to be sad.

  I eat another one, savouring the sweet taste, licking the sugar from my lips after each mouthful. When I go to pick up another one, I stop myself. Sam deserves four. He deserves more, really.

  But four might make him sick. I eat a third. I kind of hate myself for it, but I justify it by thinking of Sam’s health.

  Surely, he’d do the same thing for me.

  ***

  Kathleen enters reception about half an hour after Ben’s arrival. Heavy footsteps echo in the hall.

  “Ben isn’t signing out yet?” I ask, eyeing the secure doors.

  “Not yet,” she replies. He must be on his way to Sam. Perfect. I’ll get to the bottom of this.

  “Do you mind if I go to the bathroom?” I pick up my empty water bottle and shake it to get my point across.

  She smirks. “Sure.”

  I scoop up the coloured flyers with details of upcoming events. “I might stick up some flyers while I’m up if that’s okay?”

  She eyes the colourful paper. I hand her one. She nods as she reviews the activities listed on the flyer for the next fortnight. “It looks like you’ve got something for everyone. It’ll be a busy couple of weeks.”

  I smile, thinking of Mrs Lee playing Bingo, Frederick getting his chance to cook, and the litter of five-week-old Labrador puppies that are coming for a visit. Pretty excited about that one, myself. “Yeah, it will.”

  “I appreciate all your hard work, Jane.” Kathleen places her hand on my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Listen, I know it’s been difficult for you, managing your own work as well as covering for Sally-Anne, but I want you to know that if her absences continue, I’m bringing in another part-timer to help.”

  My shoulders drop with relief. “Thank you. I mean I don’t mind helping out, but—”

  “Say no more. Okay, off you go.”

  I leave the office and set the flyers and stick-tape dispenser down on the nurses’ station, then make a beeline for the bathroom. While I’m in there, I splash some water on my face and re-do my ponytail.

  I put up a few posters in the dining hall and in a few random places along the way. Once my hands are free, I make my way to room ten. Loud voices rumble close by. I hang back and hug the wall beside room nine.

  “What the hell do you want me to do, Sam? It’s happening. It’s what you wanted,” a deep voice growls.

  My ears prick up. What’s happening exactly?

  “I. Can’t,” Sam snaps.

  “It’s not up to you, mate.”

  “But what about her?” Sam’s voice breaks. My breath hitches as the emotion in his words hit me in the heart.

  “We talked about this,” Ben says and sighs.

  “It was a pretty one-sided discussion.”

  I turn on my heel and take purposeful strides back to reception. Now’s not the time to interrupt. Whatever happened in the meeting with Kathleen, Sam isn’t happy about the outcome.

  ***

  About half an hour later, the doors beside reception buzz. Ben emerges, his cheeks flushed.

  I stand and smile. Words fail me as Ben stops in his tracks and glances in my direction.

  “See ya,” he says and walks from the centre, his eyes focused on his black R.M. Williams boots until he’s out of sight.

  “Yeah, see ya,” I say softly to no one. What on earth is going on?

  I call Kathleen’s office.

  “Yes, Jane.”

  “Do you mind if I take my afternoon break early?”

  A puff of breath echoes through the phone. “Sure. I’ll just finish this email and I’ll come out.”

  A few minutes later, my boss appears. Her smile tells me she knows exactly where I’m going.

  “I think he could use
a friend,” she says in a soft voice.

  My heart jumps up my throat. Holy crap. Is Sam okay? Is it his health?

  I snatch up the remaining doughnuts and powerwalk down the corridor. I find Sam sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on his tangled fingers on his lap.

  I rap my knuckles on the door, drawing his eyes up. “Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier.” I hold up the bag and wave it. “Big brother brought doughnuts for you—well, for us. I kinda ate three already. Sorry, not sorry. It’s for your own health.”

  It doesn’t even draw a smile. His features are cold, his eyes empty. “I’m leaving.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  My heart dives into the pit of my stomach as I sit beside him. “Leaving?”

  “They’re kicking me out. I tried to argue, but it’s as if I don’t have a voice. All these people are making decisions for me.”

  Who is? Ben? Kathleen? “Talk to me,” I say, and place my hand over his.

  He entwines our fingers together. His chest expands as he takes in repeated deep breaths. “Your boss says they need my room for someone else. They said that I’ve improved enough, and I’m no longer classified as ‘high care’. They’re cutting funding for me. Ben’s made arrangements outside, which involves support through health services.”

  I swallow down. “That’s great,” I say. “I mean, you’ve come a long way since I got here.”

  “I should be happy, shouldn’t I?” he says.

  My shoulders bunch up towards my ears. “Well, yeah.”

  “Before you came along, all I could think about was these four crappy walls. Now you’re in the picture … ” He shakes his head and focuses on the space in front of him.

  “It’ll all work out, Sam,” I say in a soothing voice, using my free hand to rub between his shoulder blades. “Where are you going to?”

  Sam’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Ben’s gonna take care of me. He’s taken leave from his job for a few weeks. He’s found us a bigger place. I’ll be moving in with him.”

  I let out a huge sigh and grin. He’s in good hands. “That’s great.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The place is in Penrith, Janie.”

  My heart pounds in my chest in protest. That’s a few hours away. What does this mean for us? “B-but why wouldn’t you stay in Willow Creek? I mean, you both seem to love it here, right?”

  “I wish it were up to me, but it’s not. Ben tried to get somewhere closer, but it’s the medical support that’s the issue. So, Ben had to look elsewhere and besides that, he needs to be close to his work. I’m not happy about it, but what can I do? He’s doing everything he can to support us both.” Sam grips my hands tight.

  Minutes and hours and days run through my mind. How long will it be before he leaves? “How much time have we got?”

  “A week,” he chokes out. “Need to be gone by next Friday.”

  A measly seven days? “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. My head drops. I focus on our joined hands. Holding hands with someone is such a simple act, yet for Sam it causes pain. Yet here he is, gripping a hold of me.

  Don’t let go.

  “I’m not ready,” I whisper, unable to look at him.

  Sam lifts my chin with his finger and rubs my jaw with the pad of his thumb. “Me either.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “What’s everyone’s word tally since last meeting?” Janice asks and takes a sip of her coffee.

  Crap. I was supposed keep a note of my wordcount, wasn’t I? I even acknowledged Janice’s Facebook post the other week. You bad, bad writer.

  If I could blame Brandon and Ally, I would. But they’re not real people. Because I haven’t written them that way yet …

  I look around the group as everyone rattles off numbers in the thousands. I can’t even remember if I made it to four digits. When all eyes turn to me, I decide to be honest. To hell with the word count. It’s not the centre of my world right now.

  Sam is.

  “Sam’s leaving,” I spill. Air leaves my mouth with a whoosh. “I found out yesterday.”

  Hannah gasps, and covers her mouth.

  “Oh, girl,” Leonie whispers.

  “What?” Britt asks, wide-eyed. “Where?”

  “Like three hours away,” I tell them.

  “How did this come about?” Janice probes. She pushes her glasses farther up her nose and focuses intently on my face.

  “He’s not considered ‘high care’ now, so the government cut funding to the home. I don’t know much more, but apparently he’ll be managed by community nurses.”

  “That’s good, right?” Hannah soothes, raising her eyebrows.

  I grit my teeth, biting back tears. Hannah’s right. Sam is improving. I wanted it, and I’m sure in every fibre of his being, it’s what Sam’s wished for ever since he found himself paralysed in hospital.

  Leonie reaches across the table and covers my hand with her ring-clad fingers. “When’s this all happening?”

  “We have a week until he vacates. Next Friday.”

  “Oh,” Leonie says, tightening her grip on me. “Then you know what you need to do.”

  “What’s that?” I choke out.

  “You make this the most memorable seven days you can, girl.”

  A memorable seven days.

  I close my eyes for a moment. I’m going to miss him so much.

  But this is for the best. And I owe it to Sam to give him the best seven days we can have together.

  “Thank you,” I say in a quiet voice and nod. “I will.”

  I need to spin this into a positive. Sam is on the road to recovery. He’s getting back on his feet. Literally. He needs to be reminded of the joys of the outside world. Day by day, I’ll bring him a reminder of something. The beauty of the falls on an autumn day. A killer burger from Grease Monkeys, and one of their trademark double-choc malt milkshakes with a mountain of cream and chocolate-covered pretzels on top to wash it down. Maybe even an afternoon spent throwing the ball to Butch, or better yet, with Ed if I can swing it. I know we need to talk about what’s next for us, but that’s a conversation for later in the week. I’m not sure I—or he—can deal with it yet.

  Over the next hour we sit around and talk about our current novels, encouraging one another, and having the occasional laugh about crazy character scenarios.

  It makes me think of the residents, and how colourful the characters at the home are. I mean, seriously? A fiery redhead who steals glasses and teeth, a former world-renowned stunt pilot who loves to cook, a retired undertaker who’s still in love with a Mustang he used to own … you can’t make that stuff up.

  At the end of our meeting, Janice rushes out the door, mumbling something about issues with her final edits. Leonie proposes that we meet up again next Saturday. Britt and Hannah can’t agree quickly enough. Their supportive smiles tell me that the catch-up will have more to do with seeing if I’m okay, rather than our writing progress. After all, it’ll be the morning after Sam leaves.

  I hug the girls goodbye and thank them for having my back. I feel so blessed to have stumbled across this group.

  On the drive home, I try and get my brain to focus. Can we sustain a long-distance relationship? Can I get Sam the care he needs here in Willow Creek?

  I didn’t feel alone before I met him, but simply contemplating the absence of Sam has me pondering how much emptier I’ll feel after he goes. Why does everyone I care about have to leave town?

  ***

  I drive back home, hang up a load of washing on the clothes airer beside the gas wall heater, mop the floors, shampoo Butch, and finally sit down to a cup of tea. What the hell am I doing here?

  I snatch up my car keys and my iPod, and drive down to the corner store.

  A short time later, armed with a bagful of high-carb, high-sodium, high-everything snacks, I walk into work, prepared to spend the rest of the day with Sam, munching, and listening to music. Just hanging out.

  Because
I promised myself I’d give him the best seven days possible. Regardless of how shitty I feel about him leaving, the countdown has already started.

  Chapter Thirty

  I once read on an inspirational board on Pinterest, when I was wasting good writing time, that said you should ‘Go to bed with dreams. Wake up with plans’.

  Waking up this morning, having spent hours in Sam’s company yesterday afternoon, my head is chock-a-block full of plans.

  I whisk open my curtains and am blinded by the early morning sun. Not a cloud is in sight. It’s gonna be a beautiful day.

  From the small bookshelf beside my wardrobe, I pull one of the many empty notebooks that I’d planned to fill with words for a novel. I write a plan for the week, drawing two columns: one with the days of the week, and the other column left blank. It doesn’t take long to fill in the blanks with lunch ideas and activities.

  Monday Grease Monkeys and milkshakes

  TuesdayHomemade sandwiches—grab fresh doughnuts after finishing work and bring back for dessert

  WednesdayA selection of takeaway pasta from Belucci’s Italian restaurant for

  lunch

  ThursdayTrip out to Logan Falls for picnic lunch with basket put together by the

  deli on Mason Street

  Friday Farewell afternoon tea in the dining hall

  This week won’t leave much in my pocket until next payday, but I don’t care. I’ll eat Nutella sandwiches for dinner if I have to.

  Sam might not be exactly happy about me making his last day a big deal with a get-together with everyone, but I feel it’s a celebration. Whilst Sam might not want to make a fuss, I think it’s important for the residents. Sam may not realise it, but he’s made friends, and they deserve the opportunity to farewell him. It’s a unique situation, him being here in the first place, and leaving in better shape than when he arrived. I know Frederick will miss him dearly.