Page 77 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Two weeks fly by. In that time, Sam has made some serious progress. Paige and Kathleen are both thrilled with his recovery. I’ve stopped counting the number of times I’ve seen Sam in the dining hall, socialising. More often than not, he’s with Frederick. It melts my heart to witness the bond the two of them have forged.

Each day Sam and I have spent more time together. For the first time, I’m really connecting with someone of the opposite sex. Slowly, Sam and I are building a foundation for our relationship.

I haven’t written much lately, and I feel guilty for not giving my novel the time I should, but when I listen to Sam talk, or sing the occasional impromptu verse from a song he loves, that guilt leaves me in an instant.

Shirley has been my biggest fan lately, having devoured every title by Violet J. Rhynehart. I gave her a chain for her reading glasses, so they are always within reach. Gloria has given me dirty looks ever since, but I suspect it’s got more to do with the fact that I took Mr Ryan’s teeth back.She should be thanking me.

Mrs Lee’s sobs have echoed the hallways ever since the day her sons broke the news about her husband. Yesterday, I braved a visit with her. I took her out to the courtyard, where Pauline brought us a pot of Chinese tea. At first, we barely spoke, but when I mentioned the word ‘bingo’ her eyes lit up and the makings of a smile pulled at her thin lips. It was all I could have hoped for.

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.

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