by Nancy Adams
“I know it’s hard,” Calloway continued in his solemn tone, “but it’s got to be done. You say two weeks before you’re able to leave hospital. Then we’ll arrange it for then. Marya was very organized as you know. During her last days, she’d given all her instructions for her funeral—”
“She knew I’d be too weak to do it,” Sam interrupted.
“I’m sure she wanted to save you the heartache,” Calloway corrected. “Anyhow, all I need from you is a date. That’s it.”
Sam closed his eyes and felt the tears that were welling up inside of them.
“Make it the 26th,” he let out gently. “The day I get out. We should do it as soon as possible.”
Calloway let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Within the whole company, he was the closest to Sam. Therefore it had been given to him to arrange the date with Sam for Marya’s funeral. It was a painful business, reminding a grieving man of the very wound that had hurt him so badly. But it was something that had to be achieved.
“Thank you,” Calloway said to Sam.
“For what?” Sam asked, opening his eyes once more and returning his gaze to the sad tree.
“I don't know, really,” Calloway expressed. “I wasn’t looking forward to this. Until this morning I was merely coming to see how you were. But the board got wind of my visit and decided to give me this assignment—calling me an hour before I arrived in Denver.”
Sam smiled gently, his eyes misted with tears.
“Poor old John Calloway,” Sam remarked, “always the one that’s offered into the lion’s den to retrieve some meat. It’s the price you pay for being too close with me. You should keep your distance like the rest of the board.”
“I wouldn’t call us close, Sam. We see each other in person—what?—six times a year?”
“The last year it’s been eight times. This being eight.”
“Precisely,” Calloway let out with a grin. “Not exactly buddies!”
“But about as close as I have.”
“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, tell me—as we’re friends—there’s something that I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“And what’s that?”
“What was it like driving a supercar along mountain roads like a bat out of Hell?”
Sam smiled wider and turned from the window to face Calloway.
“Absolutely amazing,” he began. “I just kept pushing it and it gripped the road like a wildcat to a carcass. That was, until I crashed!”
Calloway laughed out loud and Sam grinned too. It was good to have someone in the room with him. Someone to communicate with. He’d felt as if he were fading a little, stuck in that hospital room all alone. He’d requested time to be on his own, so apart from Jess, he didn’t really get to see anyone. Bormann had come several days before, and once he’d gotten what he wanted, he hadn’t been back. Although in truth Sam was glad of that. Calloway’s friendly face, however, brought an element of respite to Sam’s withered thoughts and the rest of John’s stay was pleasant, the two chatting casually about bits and pieces, the conversation only touching on anything serious when Calloway had asked Sam when he was willing to come back to the fold.
Sam simply reiterated his earlier conversation with Bormann, when the new CEO had visited him. Namely, that Sam needed some time—possibly years—away from the company to get his personal life in order. He wanted to spend as much time with Jess as possible and make sure that the little girl had every parental need taken care of. He had only one thought: his daughter.
“Well, you go and be the best dad you can,” Calloway said to this, “and we’ll see you when she’s grown tired of her old man. My own daughters have just become teenagers and they appear to see their old man as naught but a cashpoint! I’m not even allowed in their rooms anymore, let alone able to read them a nighttime story. You go and enjoy little Jessy for as long as you can. Or as long as she’ll let you, anyway!”
Sam beamed warmly.
“I will, Johnny,” he answered. “I will.”
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NANCY ADAMS is an Amazon bestselling author of contemporary romance. She's currently single and dreams of one day meeting her prince charming and starting a family. She loves people and loves life. A real "people-person" who sometimes can't stand the noise. During those times, she curls up, shuts the door, and drifts into beautiful fantasy and welcomes all along for the ride. She expresses how she feels and what she wants to feel through her writing, and she doesn't know what she'd do without it. The mere fact that she is able to share her gift with the rest of the world is simply a bonus, and one that brings her nothing but pure joy!
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