Page 85 of Sing it, Sam

We both moan in unison, coating our lips with a sheen of grease, mayo, and signature tomato relish. If Kathleen was to walk past at this very moment and simply hear us, I think we’d be in trouble.

Watching Sam make a royal mess of himself is a beautiful sight. I swear it’s like he’s making love to his burger.And I can’t wait for that mouth to be on me.

“If I make it to ninety,” Sam mumbles around a mouthful of burger, “I hope I still have a sense of humour like him.”

I take a swig of my milkshake and hold it up towards Sam. “Yeah. Me too. Anyway, cheers to Thommo.”

Sam picks up his drink, and we tap the two paper containers together.

A quiet washes over us as we finish our lunch. Sam isn’t as chatty as usual. From the occasional pull of his brow together, it’s as if there’s something he’s mulling over. In the wake of another death, maybe it’s hit home for him again. Maybe he wonders if it could’ve happened just like that with him. I guess it’s a reminder of how quickly life can be over.

“Wanna come to bingo this afternoon?” I ask as I stuff our empty burger boxes into the paper bag.

Sam wipes at the corner of his greasy lips with a napkin, and then balls it up in his hands. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“There’s a new lady. Mrs Lee?” I tell him.

“Is that the one who just lost her husband?” he asks, compassion in his soft smile.

I let out a loud breath. “Yeah. I thought maybe you and Frederick could sit with her? Make sure she feels welcome?”

A soft smile pulls at Sam’s lips. “You got it.”

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