Page 126 of Sing it, Sam

I roll over and cover us with the quilt. “What, having you around to smack my arse? Sure.”

Sam’s mouth moves into a firm line. “To be serious, though, I need to be with my muse. You’re my focus, Jane. The haze in my brain fades when you’re around. I wanna write about what really matters: about people connecting, friends, family, and lovers. I wanna sing with all the breath in my lungs about love, and cherishing every moment, no matter how insignificant.”

“If you make my heart melt just listening to your plan, then your words are going to be so powerful. I can’t wait.”

Sam sweeps his hand over my hip and draws me in closer. “If my life was a song, it’d start off in the dark. You’d be my middle, the cause of celebration in the chorus, and with me at the end.”

What can I possibly say to match such beautiful words?My eyes well up. “Oh, Sam.”

“I thought I was living, before GBS robbed me, but I wasn’t. Not even close. You brought me to life, Janie. You reached inside my chest, massaged my heart, and got the blood pumping again.”

“Kiss me,” I choke out. “Before your words turn me into a blubbering mess.”

Sam kisses me softly. Once. Twice. Three times. I laugh against his mouth as he begins to hum.

I recognise the rise and fall of the tune. He continues on, repeating the soft rolling beat.

“Is that the same song you were singing in the home, just before you left?” I ask, listening carefully as he continues.

“Yeah. Been toying with it for a while, but ever since you came to the city, the lyrics have been ringing in my ears in stereo. It’s like they won’t leave me alone until they get my undivided attention.”

“They have, huh?” It sounds like what I experienced when I started writing about Sam and me.

“Uh-huh.”

“Will you sing it to me?”

His brows pull together, and he kisses me on the cheek. “Soon. I’m still tinkering with it.”

“Does this song have a title?”

“Yup,” he says, popping theP.

I wait a while for him to indulge me, but he doesn’t. “Um, are you at least gonna share it with me?”

Sam nods. “‘Small Town, Big Love’.”

He’s writing about us?

My heart pangs in my chest. “I love it.”

“I rang my manager, Stan, on the way out here yesterday. We talked about the album that I put on hold, and some ideas for a change in direction. I’m gonna get back into writing and, with any luck, get in the recording studio before too long. Being trapped inside my mind and body—I wanna channel all of that. Been thinking about getting some singing coaching too. Stan is pumped to get into it.”

“That’s incredible. I love that you’re taking the positives out of all of this. I know it’s been tough—well, I can’t really imagine what this whole thing has been like for you, but I’m so proud of you. You can be the voice for people who need encouragement. People need to know that they’re not the only ones going through something heartbreaking.”

Sam pushes out a heavy breath. “Talk of all this is why Ben has his nose out of joint. He says I’m ignoring the fundamental issue of my health and should be focusing on the here and now, not five steps ahead. He says my music can wait.”

“But can’t you do both?” I ask with a shrug.

“Exactly,” Sam says with emphasis on every syllable. “You know I had a quick chat to Shaun last night while you went for a walk.”

“Yeah?”

“Until the album gets out there and gains momentum, money is gonna be slow. Shaun teaches guitar four afternoons a week. When I told him I was keen to do something like that, he said he was looking to retire in a few years and wanted to slowly reduce his workload. Shaun is more than happy for me to take over some of his lessons when I move back here.”

He’s coming back? My heart swells with the news. “That sounds perfect. I can’t wait for you to return.”

“Yeah, me too. And I was thinking I could try and get Ed back. I know it’s a long shot because he has a new family now, but I want to at least try. Do you think Butch could handle another boy around here?”

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