[A. N. All disclaimers of previous chapters apply. Partly cannon and partly veering off. No Non-McSwarek baby to be featured. Thank you to everyone, who's still following and/or reading this story. Apologies for the seriously long delay. Crazy busy life intervened.]
Chapter 6: Conversation of Sorts
Andy made her way to the room she had been occupying in Sam's house. Thoughts were running through her mind. Sam had been behaving with his typical 'push-Andy-away' attitude alright, but where it mattered, the legal and medical papers, he still had her name. His sister was alive and well and of sound mind, his best friend of years was a policeman himself; yet, Sam had made her, Andy, his medical proxy. It was scary, exciting, and immensely reassuring at the same time. Now, she had to make sure, he would trust her with the rest of himself, the way he had with his life-and-death decisions. She sighed exhaustedly. Easier said than done, she knew. But when it was worth it, she had to, had to make it happen. And this was their life, their future, at stake. So, so, very worth everything necessary!
Andy didn't know when exactly she had fallen asleep last night. However, this morning, she was awake with the delicious scent of coffee. Sam's special coffee-maker brewed coffee. She had had a few thousand cups of coffee in her life, but this blend Sam used, and the coffee-maker he had invested in, made something absolutely extra-ordinary. Something that totally made her mornings start just right. Considering Sam had been instructed strictly to avoid caffeine for the time being, she wondered if he had switched on the coffee-maker out of habit, or could he have thought of her. If it was the latter, as she dared hope it was, then really, it was a rather sweet gesture. Of course, she couldn't say that to Sam. She knew without a shadow of a doubt, he would totally deny it, if she did.
Suddenly, laughter shook her. No doubt, Sam had been exasperated with her habit of talking non-stop. Now, she had not been talking, but doing her over-thinking non-stop. Fifteen minutes of over-thinking, to be exact. Probably, it was time she stopped doing that, and made her way to the kitchen to actually savour that delicious coffee.
As she walked into the kitchen, she was surprised to see a batch of pancakes on the table, along with a mug of coffee. But she didn't see Sam. Just as she was about to call out his name, he made an appearance. And as if his sour mood had disappeared overnight, he said, "Good morning, McNally. Eat. Staring at the food won't fill your stomach." And left the kitchen. Just like that.
To say, she was surprised, would be indeed, an understatement. However, she couldn't ignore her grumbling stomach anymore, and sat down to eat. And of course, immediately a host of memories flooded her mind. Cooking with Sam had always been fun. Well, for her, cooking would be overstating things a little. She had generally fiddled around, while Sam had used to do the actual cooking. And, Sam had always been a phenomenal cook. She had missed him, of course. Sometimes, though, she wondered if she missed his cooking more.
She had just finished cleaning the dishes, when Sam made a reappearance. If she didn't know better, she would think he was checking to see if she had actually eaten, which was funny. It was she who was supposed to be looking after him, but old habits died hard, she supposed. So, she followed his earlier example. Putting a bright smile on her face, she turned towards him and said "Thanks Sam, that was delicious. I gotta run to shower and get dressed if I am going to make it to the station on time."
As she left the room, from her peripheral vision, she could see – Sam was looking at her. Just looking at her. No expressions on his face, no smile, no grimace. Just nothing. And she didn't know what to think. Is this what their exchanges would be like? No real conversations, just one way statements of sorts?
