Chapter 11
SAM WASN’T EXPECTING A PHONE call on a Monday evening so late. When Wyatt called him, it was usually right after the dinner hour, but now it was eight p.m. Who could be ringing him now? He knew it wasn’t Paula. She either called in the morning on one of her shift breaks or not at all. And really, there was no one else in his life who’d call. Sure, he had a visit once in a while from Charles Benson, his longtime neighbor. But Sam happened to know the man was on a vacation with his kids and grandkids.
“Hello? Who’s this?” he said into the receiver after picking it up. Might as well get to the point.
“Gramps?”
“Wyatt,” he said, relief running through him.
“I wondered if it’s too late to come over tonight. I found some yearbook pages you might be interested in seeing.”
“Yearbook, did you say?” Sam set a bookmark in the book he’d been reading. “I haven’t seen any yearbooks around for years.”
“I found this at the library,” Wyatt said. “Well, we did. I’m with Anita and Carly.”
Sam wasn’t sure he was catching on to what Wyatt was trying to tell him. “Why are you with them at the library?”
“I can explain everything when we get there.”
Sam glanced at the clock on the wall just above the bookcase. He was usually in bed with his book by nine o’clock as opposed to in his chair with his book right before that. His eyes were already tired, and Wyatt sounded like he had more hours in him.
“How about tomorrow after dinner?” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
There was a pause and some hushed conversation on the other end of the line.
“Wyatt?”
“Oh yes, sorry. That will be fine. We’ll see you tomorrow at six thirty.”
After hanging up with Wyatt, Sam picked up his book again, but his mind wouldn’t focus on the words. He should have asked his grandson which yearbook he’d found. Was it the one that had Susan in the pictures, or was it the following year, when her missing presence was like a black hole in his heart?
A few more moments passed as he let his memories return. The Spring Fling dance had been their one and only date. Sure, they’d spent time together every chance they had, but after the dance, life had become a whirlwind of Susan’s family preparing to move. Sam had volunteered to help them pack their things and set up what they wanted to leave behind at a rummage sale. He remembered feeling like although Susan hadn’t left yet, he already missed her. He didn’t know at the time that he’d never see her again, that their letters would be the only connection that would remain after their childhood spent together.
Sam rose from his chair and went through his bedtime routine. If he took things slowly, he could do everything on his own. He wasn’t at the point where one of the aides had to help him change his clothing or wash up. Climbing into bed, he left his book on the nightstand, still bookmarked.
He didn’t need to read to fall asleep tonight. He had plenty of memories to sort through. But mostly he wondered how Susan was doing after all these years. If her marriage had been happy. If her children were well. And did she have grandchildren?
“Mr. Davis? Time for your morning medications.”
Sam opened his eyes, surprised to see that his room glowed with morning sunlight. He’d slept through the entire night without waking up once.
Ginny smiled down at him. “Sleep well?”
“I...” He cleared his throat. “I slept like the dead. What time is it and where am I?”
Thankfully, Ginny was used to his quips. She laughed and held out a glass of water and a small paper cup of pills. He moved to one elbow and took the pills, then swallowed down some water.
While he remained in bed for a few more minutes, Ginny bustled about the room. She emptied the garbage, folded the throw on his recliner, straightened a few books on the bookshelf.
Once Sam felt awake enough to get out of bed, he pushed back the covers, then swung his legs over the edge.
“How are you feeling?” Ginny asked.
“Fine.” And he did feel fine. Well-rested. No headache. No vertigo. The only thing he noticed was his stomach rumbling. “Hungry.”
She smiled. “We can head to breakfast as soon as you’re ready.”
Sam knew if he’d complained about anything, then Ginny would have offered to bring his breakfast on a tray. But she was also of the mind that if he had the physical strength, then he should have breakfast in the dining room. “You need to stay social,” she’d told him more than once.
She brought over the walker, and although Sam didn’t like to use it in his bedroom, previous incidents had shown him that his legs and balance were not always reliable first thing in the morning.
He grasped the handle and pushed to his feet. So far, so good. “My grandson is visiting tonight after dinner,” he said, “so I’ll be staying in the dining room for that.”
“I’ll leave a message for tonight’s staff,” Ginny said.
Sam nodded and headed into the bathroom. He shut the door, but didn’t lock it. In fact, the door didn’t lock in case there was some sort of emergency. He washed up, then spent a moment studying his face in the mirror. He’d have to ask for a shave today, though his whiskers didn’t grow as fast as they used to. He only made the request a couple times a week.
A memory flashed through his mind of when Susan first noticed he was growing stubble. She’d teased him about it and then asked to feel his jaw.
Memories were strange things. Sometimes they were murky, like a hazy day. Other times they felt like the event only happened a few days ago. Right now, Sam could remember details of that moment when Susan ran her fingers over his jaw. The way her eyes had crinkled at the corners. How she wore a smirk he was so familiar with. The strawberry scent of her shampoo as she leaned close. The sensation of a girl—a pretty girl who was his best friend—touching him. How she’d drawn back and laughed, then said coyly, “My friend is turning into a man.”
Was that when Sam had fallen in love with her? Or was it much sooner? Maybe that was when he finally had hope that she’d view him as someone other than her lanky best friend. He’d been all elbows and knees for years, until the summer between their sophomore and junior years. His family had gone on a road trip vacation for eight days, and when they returned, it was to a much more mature-looking Susan. And he supposed he’d changed, too, in that short time. Or maybe it had seemed that way since they’d never been apart for long. Until she’d moved for good.
“Mr. Davis? Need help with anything?” Ginny’s voice tugged him out of his revelry.
“No, I’m coming right out.” He rinsed out the sink, dried his hands, then opened the door.
By the time he was in the dining room and seated next to a few other residents for breakfast, he was back to reality. Back to the routine. Back to scrambled eggs and a piece of toast with grape jelly. He didn’t pay much attention to the announcement about the activities going on that day. He might or might not join in. His gaze cut to the large bank of windows that framed the makings of a mild, sunny day. A break in the clouds was always welcome. Beyond the windows grew a walled-in garden that contained a circular walking path and a few benches nestled among the flower beds. A nice change in atmosphere.
He took a final sip of his orange juice, then excused himself from the buzzing conversation at his table that he hadn’t been paying attention to anyway. Using his walker so he didn’t potentially get stuck somewhere if he got a hitch in his knee or hip, he headed toward the walled garden.
“Mr. Davis, where are you going?” He looked over to see Ginny walking toward him.
“I’m going to walk the garden path for a while,” he said. “No need to follow.”
Ginny paused in her step and smiled. “All right, sir. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll be close by.”
She would indeed, but Sam didn’t need the extra assistance today. His legs felt steady, and it might have something to do with wanting to have a good day so by the time Wyatt came, he’d be ready to walk down memory lane. Entering the garden, he turned right on the path. The scents of roses and other flowering plants immediately surrounded him.
“There he is,” a woman’s voice said, “the lone bachelor.”
Sam could guess the voice belonged to Kathy or Debbie—two women who were always up to something. They lived across the hall from each other in the women’s section. When he’d first come to the center, he’d been seated at their table, so he’d gotten an earful of their lives at each meal. They weren’t related, but somehow they looked like sisters. Both with silver-gray hair cut short, dark arched eyebrows, and a habit of wearing ruby-red lipstick. He only knew the exact color because they had told him, then proceeded to put it on right after their meals were eaten.
“I think he’s ignoring us,” the other woman’s voice said.
A couple of steps later, and they came into view. Today they were wearing matching cardigans and sitting on a bench. One of them—Kathy—held a book, and Debbie held a small bag of potato chips. How she managed to end up with extra snacks was a mystery to him.
“I’m not ignoring anyone,” Sam said. “I’m simply taking a walk.”
Both women smiled innocently at him as if they hadn’t just been giving him guff.
“That’s wonderful, Sam,” Kathy gushed.
“You’re looking healthy today,” Debbie added.
It was assisted living lingo, he guessed, to “look healthy” even though they were all here in this place together as their final destination in life.
“Do you want to sit with us?” Kathy asked, her lipsticked smile bright. “We’re having a book club meeting.”
Sam slowed in his step and came to a stop. “Book club with two people?”
Debbie lifted her chin. “You can have a book club with only one person, you know. And if you join us, we’ll have three.”
Sam had to chuckle even if he wasn’t sure if Debbie was trying to be funny. “I haven’t read the book.”
This prompted Kathy to hold up hers. “No need to read in advance. We won’t give away the ending.”
“We never give away the ending,” Debbie said. “Besides, we usually can’t remember it. Does that happen to you? We know you’re a big reader.”
“It depends on how long ago I read the book.” He pushed the walker forward again to continue his walk. “Enjoy your book club.”
“We will,” Kathy said. “And if you want to join us next week, we’re reading Little Women.”
“And...” Debbie rattled her chip bag. “There will be snacks.”
Sam chuckled and continued walking. He was past them now, but that didn’t stop Kathy from calling out, “We always have snacks, you can be assured of that.”
Sharing a small bag of chips wasn’t all that tempting to him. Besides, he didn’t have a copy of Little Women, although he knew he’d read it at some point. One of his years in high school? About the only thing he remembered was that one of the characters was a writer and her sister died. Sad stuff. Maybe if he could drum up a copy, he’d read it since he didn’t have much else on his agenda for the week.
He walked slowly on purpose so he could breathe in the earthy scents mixed with the fragrance of blooming flowers. It reminded him of Norma, when she had to quit her full-time job because of her heart condition. She’d wanted to stay busy, just on a more restful scale. Although some days that she spent in the garden, he worried she’d overtax herself.
Boy, he missed her. They hadn’t been in love when they’d married. No, the circumstances were a bit unusual, but looking back, he didn’t regret anything. Susan had been out of his life for years, and he was available to help Norma. His heart would follow later.
Once Sam made it back to his room, a copy of Little Women in hand that he’d found at the center’s library, he settled into his recliner, intent on reading until lunchtime. He got caught up in the story well enough, smiling because Jo’s personality reminded him of Susan—giving and industrious. Not afraid to speak her mind. But as his eyes grew heavy and he slipped into a nap, it wasn’t Susan who was on his mind, but Norma.
She’d been the girlfriend of David Gerber, who Sam had crossed paths with a couple of times when a large group of them went bowling on Saturday nights. Norma was tall, willowy, and bookish. They got into more than one conversation about books, and Sam had never considered it flirting, but apparently David did.
They’d had a confrontation one night after the bowling alley that almost came to fisticuffs. David had shoved Sam, and he shoved the guy back. They were evenly matched, but a crowd had gathered, and Norma had tearfully pleaded for David to back down. It seemed he’d been in trouble with the cops for something else, and she didn’t want new charges brought against him.
It was the last time he saw Norma or David for a few months. They hadn’t disappeared exactly, but they stopped coming to bowling night. Then one evening, after Sam had finished working the late shift, he’d stopped by the diner on the corner just on the edge of his neighborhood. He knew the kitchen of his college apartment probably only had a box of crackers, and he was starving.
He ordered enough for three people and sat down to wait while Hal prepared his order. That’s when he noticed the far table in the corner, where a young woman was sipping a drink, tears streaking her cheeks. His heart went out to her, but he aimed to mind his own business and leave her to her own troubles, when he realized it was Norma.
She looked up and recognized him too. They ended up spending the next two hours talking and eating—Sam had plenty of food to share. She was still dating that doofus David, but Sam remembered coming away from talking to her thinking how her boyfriend didn’t know how lucky he was. Norma was a great gal with a bright future. She was acing her classes in clerical school and planned to work for either a hospital or law firm when she graduated.
David had no such aspirations and was working as a part-time mechanic. It was honest labor, though, and nothing that Sam could criticize. Only his personality needed some work. Apparently he hated reading and thought it was a waste of time for Norma. Which was why she brought a book with her to the diner while David hung out with his buddies on card night.
Over the next few weeks, Sam would randomly run into Norma at the diner. They’d share a table and food, which he insisted on paying for. He ordered extra if he saw her sitting in the corner booth when he arrived. She always had a book with her, but she bookmarked it as soon as he came over to her table. Sam supposed he should have felt a twinge of guilt spending so much time with another man’s girl, but there was nothing romantic between them.
She was pretty and sweet, sure, but he knew from the get-go that she was taken.
Until she wasn’t.
A tap on the door pulled him from his circling dreams about Norma. He drew in a sharp breath. It was the second time that day that someone had awakened him from sleep.
“Come in,” he called in a rasp. “I’m presentable.”
The door opened, and Ginny walked in. It took her only seconds to assess the situation. “Having a nap?”
“Something like that.” He stifled a yawn. “What’s this? Blood pressure time?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” She didn’t look apologetic, though. All smiles, she bent to strap on the blood pressure cuff. In moments, she was finished. “Everything looks good. You ready for lunch?”
“I suppose,” he said.
Ginny smiled and adjusted the walker so it would be easier for him to grip and stand. Her gaze didn’t miss much because she said, “You switched books, huh? Little Women is a classic.”
“I’m in a book club.”
Ginny didn’t even look surprised. “I see Kathy and Debbie snagged you.”
“That’s right. I hope I know what I’m getting into.” Sam nodded toward the book on the side table. “How much trouble can there be with discussing Little Women?”
“With Kathy and Debbie as part of the discussion?” Ginny chuckled. “Just make sure you’re a huge fan of Louisa May Alcott or there’ll be trouble.”
He shuffled toward the door. “I’ll be ready for it.”
The afternoon passed quickly, which pleased him, because he was looking forward to Wyatt’s visit. Sam wasn’t expecting him to bring Anita and Carly, though, so it was a nice surprise when the three of them showed up.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting a whole crew,” he said, smiling as they approached the table where he waited. Then he remembered. “Your car was having trouble, right?”
“Right,” Anita said. “It’s in the shop. Needs a new starter.”
Sam didn’t miss the crease of her brow. Car trouble was never a pleasant thing, but he was happy to see them, nonetheless.
“We got a ride with Wyatt,” Carly said. “Mostly because we wouldn’t let him come without us.”
“Oh?” Sam wondered at the excitement in her eyes. He wanted to ask her about school and how her quest for new friends was going, but Wyatt had already settled on one side of him.
“Here, Gramps,” he said softly. “We brought you some copies of your yearbook, and we’d love to talk to you about some of the photos. Anita and Carly went to the library with me to look through the old yearbooks.”
“Ah, that was kind of everyone...” Sam glanced at his inquisitive audience, wondering what exactly was going on.
“It wouldn’t have happened without Anita’s prodding,” Wyatt said. “I was reluctant, but she insisted.”
“Not exactly insisted,” she countered with a coy smile.
Wyatt smiled at her in return, and her cheeks were pinker than Sam remembered. She sat on the other side of Carly, her eyes focused on Wyatt more than anyone else at their table.
Sam didn’t miss the studied glance that Wyatt gave Anita, the curve of a quick smile, before he opened the folder he’d brought.
Sam dropped his gaze before he let his mind draw conclusions where there might not be any. Maybe Wyatt and Anita were just friends, but he couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Wyatt’s attention so captured by another woman. He hadn’t brought anyone home to meet him for years.
Wyatt tapped the first page. “These aren’t the best copies since they came from a microfiche machine.”
Sam began to leaf through the pages. He didn’t speak for a moment, because he knew exactly what the photos were and the year and month they were all taken. It wasn’t something that he could forget.
“That’s me and Susan,” he said, tapping on a photo. “Our first and last date, you could say.” He raised his gaze to meet his grandson’s. “She was a remarkable person.”
Wyatt nodded. “She’s the one who sent that postcard a few months ago?”
“You believe me now.” Sam hadn’t expected the flush of guilt across Wyatt’s face.
“I...I do believe you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t before.”
It was a fair apology. “Thought my mind was going?”
When Wyatt’s face paled, Sam chuckled. “Don’t worry, I know I’m getting on in years. Some things will eventually go. My memories can be foggy, but not about Susan. She was my best friend, you know.”
Wyatt swallowed. “I know. You’ve said that, but since you only recently brought her up, I had wondered if your memories were true. I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“I understand. You were thinking of your grandmother...and wanting to protect her memory.” Sam turned the next page to where Susan posed with her glee club. He used to go to the practices when he had time, just to hear her sing. If he’d been able to carry a tune, he would have joined. He lifted his gaze, not realizing he’d spoken his thoughts aloud.
Everyone was watching him. “Susan was my soulmate, I think. Is that what they call it nowadays? When her family moved, I never doubted that I’d see her again. We’d have much more freedom as adults, I assumed. But life happened, and the years passed. I met Norma, and Susan had moved on with another fella—at least that’s what her letters seemed to indicate.”
He tapped a finger against the glee club photo. “Susan got engaged, and I moved on with my life too. We stopped writing letters, and I wasn’t even sure if she was still in Nevada. I only wished the best for her, of course.” His voice trailed off.
“So you never heard from her again until the postcard?” Carly asked eagerly.
“That’s right.” Sam looked up from the black-and-white photo of a smiling Susan. “I was shocked to receive it. But I knew immediately that it was from the right Susan. I don’t know her circumstances right now. She might have a dozen grandchildren and a busy life. Maybe she sent the postcard hoping it might reach me. Or perhaps she knew I still lived in the same home I’d grown up in?”
Wyatt patted his arm. “We’re happy to hear any stories you want to tell us, Gramps.”
Sam drew in a breath. “I suppose the older I get, the shorter my life seems, and my high school years don’t seem all that long ago. I mean, I know that decades have passed, but I’d like to catch up with Susan. Find out which path her life took.”
Wyatt’s shoulders slumped, but he said in an upbeat voice, “Maybe we can track down her address and you can write to her?”
Sam clasped his hands atop his table. “Finding her address would be important,” he said. “Because I’d like to visit her in person, while I still can.”
Wyatt frowned, as Sam suspected he might. “If you can’t take me, then maybe your sister can.”
“We don’t even know where she lives,” Wyatt said. “Or if she’d welcome a visit.”
“We’ll find her phone number, then.” Sam settled his gaze on Anita. “Maybe you can help if Wyatt’s too busy?”