AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was already feeling guilty about his sharp retort. It had been honest, yes, but Ginny didn’t need to be the target of his bad mood. He drew in a breath and decided he’d explain, but then she wheeled him right out of the room. The hallway was filled with a few other wheelchair-bound residents, also on their way to the activity. Whatever that would be.
Ginny was a brisk walker, and they overtook a couple of the residents. They reached the dining room, which apparently had been converted into a game room. Each table had two to three game boxes in the middle like a decorative centerpiece. Visitors were scattered among the residents.
“Here you are,” Ginny said cheerfully. “These visitors don’t have family here, and they’re happy to spend time with you.”
Before Sam could tell her to take him back to his room, she’d wheeled him to a table with a woman and a teenager—likely her daughter, if their similar looks of honey-brown hair and blue eyes were any indication. The woman gave him a faint smile, but the teenager’s eyes had shuttered. She looked about as happy to be here as he was.
“Hello, sir, what’s your name?” the woman asked.
“This is Sam Davis,” Ginny interjected, setting the brakes on his wheelchair. She stood next to him. “This is Anita Gifford and her daughter, Carly. They’re here all afternoon. Now, does anyone want some punch?”
“Sure, that would be great,” Anita said. “What about you, Carly?”
Carly looked down at her hands, folded atop the table. “Okay.”
As Ginny bustled away, Sam got right to the point. “I don’t need company, if that’s what you’re here for. My grandson, who’s an accountant, is too busy to visit. I was taking a perfectly good nap in my room before Ginny woke me up. So if you’d rather do something else with your Saturday, don’t give me a second thought.”
Carly lifted her chin and eyed him.
Sam unlocked the wheelchair brakes, then pushed back from the table. Maybe he’d get one of the other aides to wheel him back since Ginny wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d just managed to rotate his wheelchair when the girl said, “Mr. Davis, we’d like to play at least one game with you. If that’s all right?”
Surely, she’d been prompted by her mother. Sam might be a grump, but he wasn’t rude. He looked over at the teenager. Her hands were clasped together so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.
“Are you on a mother-daughter outing? Maybe passing off something for the Girl Scouts?”
Carly’s cheeks pinked. “Not really. I...” She gave a side glance toward her mother. “I was suspended from school yesterday, and I have to put in service hours before I can go back.”
Well, this was interesting. “You were suspended? Did you change your grades or something?”
The girl had the decency to look mortified. Another glance at her mother, then, “No, my friends and I were dumb and raided the kitchen.”
Sam didn’t even hesitate. “What did you take? Something good?”
Carly’s mouth quirked. “Not really. We grabbed a bag of carrot sticks and another one of green apples.”
Sam didn’t mean to laugh—it just came out. And it was his full belly laugh. The one that hadn’t made an appearance in quite some time. The other residents looked over, of course, and Ginny arrived at the table just then with a tray of punch.
“Mr. Davis, are you all right?”
Sam drew in a breath, nodded, wheezed, then laughed again.
Across the table, Carly’s mouth opened in surprise, as if she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to laugh or not. And her mother...her expression could put a thundercloud to shame.
Sam grasped one of the cups and downed the punch as if he’d been crossing a desert until this very moment. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said to the girl’s mother. He used the edge of his sleeve to dab at his eyes. “Getting suspended is no lighthearted matter, but at least when you raid the kitchen, go for the dessert.”
Ginny looked confused, as she should, but Anita Gifford’s expression cleared. And Carla’s lips twitched.
Sam raised a hand. “Not that I’m encouraging you to go back anytime soon, young lady. The best way to get through school and life in general is to follow most rules.”
“Most rules?” Carly said, her voice less timid.
Ah, she’d caught that. Smart girl. “Some rules are absolutely necessary,” Sam qualified. “But sometimes a rule has to be broken to save a life.”
Both mother’s and daughter’s eyes widened.
Laughing had put Sam too much at ease around these ladies. “Now,” he said, sliding over one of the game boxes. “What are we playing? Scrabble or Life?”
“Scrabble,” Carly said immediately.
