Page 119 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Forty-Two

I cuddle into his side for the few minutes it takes to reach the showgrounds. Ordinarily, I walk to the festival because the parking is always crazy and backed up for miles, but for Sam we need to find somewhere close.

The brakes on Ben’s car squeak as it rolls to a stop out the front of the grand wrought-iron gates. Ben turns his head to face us. “Listen, you guys go on without me.”

My heart sinks.Was their disagreement really that bad?

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” I ask, pleading with my eyes. Surely, he doesn’t want to miss it after coming all this way?

He looks to Sam and then back at me. “Nah, all good. Was thinking I’d take a drive up to the falls. It’s been a while.”

“Okay, well, let us know if you decide to come back. Or if you want, you can chill back at my place. The doors are unlocked.”

Ben’s brows pull together. “Unlocked?”

“Yeah, I forgot to grab my keys.”

“I’ll go back and lock up for you,” Ben offers.

“Only if you want to. FYI, people around here routinely leave their doors unlocked.”

Ben shakes his head, gets out, and opens the rear door. He brings the walker to Sam’s side.

“Have fun.” Ben bows his head and walks back to the driver’s side.

“Prepare yourself, Sam. Shit’s about to get pumpkiny,” I say with an exaggerated wink.

Sam chuckles as he negotiates the walker closer to the gate. “What about corny?”

I pat him on the back. “Good one, mate.”

Kathleen is waiting at the entry for us. She waves and makes her way through the sea of festival-goers. The crowd parts for her, revealing the wheelchair I asked her to arrange. It’s not motor-driven, like the one Sam had in the home, but it’ll do the job. She wheels the chair in front of Sam and stops.

“Well, Mr Marshall. Don’t you look well,” Kathleen says, and places her hand on his shoulder.

I can’t even look at Sam, because I know he’ll probably hate me for it. At the end of the day, Ben and I just want what’s best for him, and exhaustion isn’t going to do him any favours. Certainly not after his fall.

“Don’t need it,” he tells her, his jaw tight. “But thanks, boss.”

Kathleen shrugs at me, as if to silently tell me that she tried. I walk around and stand in front of him. “I thought you might get too tired walking around. You’re not getting out of this dance, you know.”

“Not tryin’ to,” he says. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sam,” I say on an exhale. Our eyes connect. “We have hours ahead of us. Even I’ll be exhausted by then. Please do this for me. I promise once the dance starts, we’ll ditch the chair.”

As Sam stares into my eyes, I can see the battle he’s waging within himself. After a moment, he lets out a heavy breath. “You drive a hard bargain,” he says, and moves to sit in the chair.

“I’ll keep the walker at the first-aid marquee,” Kathleen says with a smile as she grips the handles of the walker. “Come and get it whenever you’re ready.”

We say our goodbyes for now, and I wheel Sam towards the first row of stalls. “Now, how about we turn that frown upside down with some scones, huh?”

I curve one hand over his shoulder. Sam turns his head and kisses the top of my knuckles.

***

After an afternoon of indulging, and watching various competitions, we make ourselves comfortable by a firepit beneath a row of glowing pumpkin lanterns, and sip at our warm mulled wine. Shaun the guitarist, who happens to be Kathleen’s brother-in-law, comes and sits with us before he starts his set. We all laugh as Sam and he reminisce about their performance in the nursing home. It warms my heart when Sam says he’ll happily do the gig again when he’s in town next.

I leave the two music enthusiasts to chat and go for a walk to the ladies’ room. When I return, Shaun is warming up on stage, and Sam is staring at the fire. As I approach, his eyes look up. The smile on his glowing face is simply beautiful.How’d I get so lucky?

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