Page 71 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Twenty-Five

I love Fridays. Today, my love for this day is compounded because Operation Dog Reunion is ready to roll. The company car is packed with two jumbo blue pillows, a picnic rug, and an Esky with cold water and fresh fruit.

I scoop up my bag and make my way to the nurses’ station. Kathleen is waiting there, arms crossed beneath her chest. She chews at her bottom lip.

“Paige said he’s good to go, so, um …” She rubs at her chin.

I raise my eyebrows expectantly. “Drive safe?” I offer, to fill in the silence.

“Yes, drive safe. Just one thing.”

“Sure.”

“As you know, Sam’s had some practice with the walker. Paige is happy with his progress and his stability, but having said that, don’t have him walk too far. Perhaps take the wheelchair as it’s still quite taxing on him. And ring me if you need anything.Please.”

“I will. Promise.”

The spring in my step on the way to room ten can’t be denied.But what if he says no? What if he doesn’t want to leave? What if he’s not feeling up to it?

Who am I kidding? There’s no doubt he’ll wanna escape from this place.Don’t second guess yourself.

“Okay,” I boom as I enter his room.

“Jesus!” Sam shouts from his seat at the edge of the bed. “Tryin’ to give a man a heart attack?” The walker is beside him, within arm’s reach, the wheelchair tucked in the corner.

“You and I have a date,” I declare.

“A date?” He folds his arms. A grin grows over his lips. “I don’t know anything about a date.”

I clasp my hands in front of my chest. “Sam Marshall, will you go out with me?”

He shakes his head from side to side and tuts.

I place my hand over my heart and frown. “What?” I feign hurt.

“Nuh-uh. That’s not the way this is gonna work, Janie,” he says, waving his hand between us.

My hands move to my hips of their own volition. “I disagree. My way involves cinnamon doughnuts. Hot. Fresh. Mouth-wateringly delicious sugary doughnuts.” I lick at my lips, eliminating imaginary sugar crystals from them.

Sam’s upper body jerks in silent laughter. “Have you been talkin’ to my brother?”

“Maaaaaybeeee?”

“Fine then,” he says, and claps his hands. It doesn’t seem to pain him quite as much as it did a few weeks ago. My heart swells with the thought that Sam is on the road to recovery. It’s happening; I can see it. I’ve witnessed it happening slowly since I met him.Or am I imagining it because I want it so bad?

“Do you forgive me?”

He sighs. “Yeah. You had me at doughnut, Janie. It’s my stomach’s Achilles heel.”

Thank you, big brother.

With quick steps I rush over to the wheelchair. We need to get moving. Not that we’re running late or anything. I’m just busting to spend time with Sam outside.

“Don’t need it,” Sam blurts out. “I’m taking the walker.”

I turn to him and offer an encouraging smile. Then I remember what Kathleen said about taking it easy on him. My expression turns serious. “Are you sure? It’s a bit of a walk to reception.”

“I’m good. Just be prepared to catch me,” he says with a wink.

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