Tuesday, December 22, 1987

Al was the first one up but this time he wasn’t surprised that Sam was still sleeping.  He’d heard him get up at least twice during the night and guessed that he’d not had a good night.  He put a pot of coffee on and while it was brewing, went to take a shower and get dressed.  When he came out of the shower, the coffee was ready and Sam was still sleeping.  Al decided not to wake him and made himself a quick breakfast of toast to go with the coffee.

Once he was done eating, he jotted down a quick note for Sam.  He’d noticed that there was very little milk in the refrigerator and decided now might be a good time to run out and get some.  With any luck, he’d miss most of the holiday crowds.  He propped the note up against the coffee maker where Sam would be sure to see it.

After checking the living room, foyer, and Sam’s office and not finding his house keys, Al quietly crept into Sam’s room checking to see if they were in there.  He found them on top of the dresser near the closet.  Just as he was slipping them in his pocket, he heard the sleepy voice behind him.

“What’re you doing?”

Al turned around and saw that Sam had propped himself up on one arm as he blinked owlishly in Al’s direction.  “What’re you doing?” he repeated when Al didn’t answer him right away.

“I was looking for your house keys.  I was going to go out and pick up some milk and few other things.”  Al walked across the room and stopped at the side of the bed.  “You look like you could sleep for another couple of hours.”

Sam dropped back down to the pillow.  “I feel like I could sleep for another couple of days.  What time is it anyway?”

“7:45.  Why don’t you see if you can grab a little more sleep while I’m out.  The house is all set and we don’t have to leave top pick up your mom for a while.  You’ve got plenty of time to just rest.  Hell, you probably should have been doing that all along.  You haven’t gotten much since you had the surgery.”

Sam looked up at the ceiling thinking.  “Hmmm.  Dr. Elliot said I was getting run down.  Maybe I should sleep-in.”  His voice was low almost as if he were talking to himself and not to Al.

“What do you mean Dr. Elliot said you’re getting run down?  You didn’t mention that yesterday.”

Sam glanced in Al’s direction and bit his lower lip realizing he’d said more than he’d intended.  “Uh, nothing.  He just said I seemed tired, that’s all,” Sam lightly explained.  “It’s nothing, really.”

“No way, Kid, I’m not buying whatever it is you’re selling me.  There’s a difference between just being tired and being rundown.  You didn’t tell me this yesterday because you knew if you did I would have tied you down to keep you still.”  Al’s voice rose in volume as he warmed up to the subject.  “Don’t you ever think?  I don’t understand why you keep stuff like this a big secret.  Geez, Sam, you’re a doctor.  You, more than anyone else, should know what’s going to happen if you don’t take care of yourself.  How do you think your mother would feel, huh?  Oh sure, you got a clean house and it’s all decorated for Christmas and oh, hey, look, there you are passed out under the Christmas tree because you didn’t take care of yourself.  I don’t suppose it ever crossed your mind how your choices affect the rest of us.  No, you just push ahead with whatever crazy plan you have and damn the rest of us.”

Sam threw his arm over his face as if by doing that he could block out Al’s tirade.  “I’m sorry,” he said when Al paused to take a breath.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.  You’re right.  I knew if I did, you’d nag at me and not let me do anything.  I wanted to get things done for Mom.”  Sam took his arm down and looked at Al.  “You’re right,” he said again simply.

Al took a breath, let it out with a sigh, and sat on the edge of the bed.  Sam scooted over to give him room.  “I don’t want to be right, Kid.  I don’t even want to be having this conversation.  You need to start thinking about yourself, though.  You’re always thinking about everyone else and Sam ends up way down on the list.  You need to start moving yourself up to the top.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said nodding his head in agreement.

“You won’t do anyone any good if you end up in the hospital again,” Al added.  “I’d think you would have had enough of that to last you a good long time.”

“Trust me, I have.”

“Ok, so is there anything else the doctor told you yesterday that you decided would be your little secret?”

“No, there was nothing else.  Aside from my white count being up a little, the blood work they got back yesterday was fine.  I’ll get the results on the ultrasound next week.”

“And you’re sure that the antibiotic isn’t for anything specific.”  Al wanted to clarify that and make sure it wasn’t something else Sam had decided was on a ‘need to know basis’.

Sam sat up in bed before answering Al.  “No.  He just wants me to take it as a prophylactic measure.  It’s not even a very strong one.”

“And rest.  I’m assuming he also told you to rest.”  Sam didn’t answer the question, he just looked straight ahead.  “Sa-am,” Al prompted.  “He told you to rest, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did.” Sam admitted.

Al blew out a breath and got up from where he’d sat on the side of the bed.  “Well, we can’t go back and undo yesterday and I can’t force you stay in bed all day but I think it might be a good idea for you to do what Dr. Elliot said.  We don’t have to pick up your mom yet for a few hours so just rest until then.  Read a book or something.”

“I guess I can do that,” Sam agreed before throwing the covers back and getting out of bed.

Al stepped back to give Sam room to get up.  “I thought you said you could use some more sleep.”

“I probably could,” Sam answered wearily, “but I need to take that antibiotic and I can’t do that on an empty stomach.”

“Oh.  You want me to make you something?”

“No.  I can do it myself,” Sam answered splitting his attention between Al and removing the immobilizer.  “You just go on and do whatever you were going to do,” Sam continued as he struggled to pull the Velcro loose.  Whether Al had put it on so that the closure was more towards his back or it had moved while he slept, Sam couldn’t seem to reach it to pull it free.

“Here, I’ll get that for you,” Al offered when he saw the difficulty Sam was having.

“I can do it myself,” Sam said forcefully.

“I know you can do it yourself but your arm isn’t going to reach around that far.  You look like a dog trying to chase your tail.”

“Do it,” Sam said with a sigh as he dropped his arm back to his lap.  “I don’t know why you put it that far back anyway.”

“I didn’t,” Al answered as he peeled the Velcro open.  It probably moved while you were sleeping.  You’re not exactly still sometimes.”  He pulled the immobilizer completely off of Sam and handed it to him.  “There, you’re all set now.”

Sam nodded his thanks and put the immobilizer down on top of the dresser.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to get you something to eat?” Al again offered.

“I’m sure, Al.  I’m a big boy.  I can get it myself.”  Sam turned in the direction of the bedroom door.  “If you’re still going out to the store could you see if they have any Christmas wreaths or something for the front door?  We didn’t get one and it must look bare.”

Al stood back and watched Sam leave the room and found he couldn’t let go of his worry for the younger man.  He looked as tired as Al could remember seeing him since they’d come back from Colorado.  His admission that Dr. Elliot had also noticed the weariness and had been concerned didn’t help to ease the worry.

“Al?” Sam questioned turning around when he didn’t get an answer to his question.

“Hmm?  What?”  Al shook himself from his thoughts turning.

“I asked if you could get a wreath for the door while you were out.” Sam repeated.

“Oh, yeah.  I can get you one of those.”  Al joined Sam in leaving the room.  While the younger man continued on to the kitchen, Al stopped in the foyer to get his coat out of the closet.  “You need anything else while I’m out,” he asked when he walked by the kitchen.

“Yeah, milk,” Sam said putting the nearly empty gallon down on the island next to a box of cereal.  “We’re just about out.”

“That’s what I said I was going out for,” Al reminded.

“Oh, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.  In that case, that’s it.”

“Ok, then.  I’ll be back in a little while.  Do me a favor.”

Sam looked up from pouring the cereal into a bowl.  “What?”

“When you’re done eating just sit down and watch TV or read a book or something.  Don’t rush into your office and start working on the project.  It’ll be there later.”

“Yeah, sure, Al.  I can do that,” Sam answered turning an innocent look in the older man’s direction.

“I bet,” Al grumbled before going out the door to the garage.

An hour and a half after Al left; Sam heard his car pull into the garage.  He considered quickly rolling up the architectural plans he’d spread on the kitchen table and grabbing a book and pretending that he’d sat there reading while Al was out but quickly discarded the idea.  Al would see the plans and figure it out.  Besides, it wasn’t as if he was doing anything wrong.

“I knew I’d find you working on something,” Al said when he came into the kitchen.  He dropped the two bags he was carrying on the island before walking over to stand behind Sam looking down at the plans on the table.

Sam glanced up to Al out of the corner of his eye before looking down to the plans and making a notation.  “These have to go out for bid to a contractor after the first of the year.  I need to make sure this is all finalized so that can happen.  I’m just doing the final tweaks.”

“You’ve been ‘tweaking’ these for the last couple of weeks.  How many more tweaks can you possibly make?  It’s fine already.”

“Oh really?”  Sam spun around in the chair to face Al.  “You really don’t think there’s anything wrong with these plans as they are right now?”  The smile on Sam’s face and the open, guileless look should have tipped Al off that he’d found something wrong with the plans.

“No, there’s nothing wrong.  They’re perfect the way they are.”  Al slid the plans away from Sam and started to roll them.

“Hope you can hold it for a good long time then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Al asked as he stopped rolling the plans.

“It means, there’s no restrooms on the control level so either you’re gonna have to hold it or those plans need tweaking.”

“You’re kidding,” Al said as he quickly unrolled the plans and started looking at them carefully.  “How can there be no restrooms?”

“Someone made a mistake.  Now do you still think these don’t need anymore tweaking?”

“Ok,” Al gave pushing the plans back over to Sam.  “They’re not perfect.  I still think you can put them aside for right now give yourself a break.”  Al walked back over to the kitchen island and started to put away the food he’d bought.  He hadn’t purchased that much knowing that Thelma would most likely want to do grocery shopping of her own to cook Christmas dinner.  He wasn’t relishing the thought of going back to the grocery store since it had already been crazy when he was there.

“This isn’t doing work,” Sam argued.  “I’m just looking them over and seeing where some improvements can be made.”  He turned back around in the chair to face Al.  “I’m not sure what the difference would be if I sat and read a book and sitting and looking over the plans.”  He raised his eyebrows in a challenge for Al to tell him different.

“I guess there isn’t much difference,” Al conceded realizing that he didn’t have a good argument.  Once he’d finished putting the groceries away, he gathered up the dishes from Sam’s breakfast that were still on the island.  He frowned when he saw that the bowl was still half-full with cereal and milk.  “You didn’t eat much,” he commented as he poured the remaining cereal down the garbage disposal.

“I ate enough.”  Sam turned back around to the plans laid out on the table.  Al seemed like he was ready to launch into another round of mothering and he didn’t feel like dealing with it.

Al didn’t respond to Sam’s assertion that he’d eaten enough for breakfast choosing to simply wash the dishes instead.  “Did you take your antibiotic?” he asked once the dishes were dried and put away.

“Yes, I took my antibiotic,” Sam grumbled never taking his eyes off the paper in front of him.

Al wandered back over and watched as Sam wrote several more notes down in the margin.  “Have you ice your shoulder down today?”

“Yes,” Sam answered slamming the pencil in his hand down.  “I took my antibiotic, I iced my shoulder, I washed behind my ears, and I brushed my teeth.  Is there anything else I’m missing, Mo-om?”

“Hey, don’t get snippy with me.  I’m just checking because you haven’t been doing it as much as you’re supposed to.  Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”  Al started to walk out of the kitchen.

Sam let out a noisy breath and pushed up from the table following Al.  “Look, I’m sorry.  You’re just starting to drive me crazy checking on me every time I turn around.  I’m not gonna fall apart and break, Al.  Really.”

Al abruptly stopped and turned around causing Sam almost to run into him.  “I know you’re not going to fall apart but give me a break, ok.  It wasn’t that long ago I watched you almost die.  Hell, you were dead for a minute or two.  It’s not easy to forget and it scared the hell outta me.  I don’t want to ever see you like that again so if I’m nagging at you, that’s why.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said again but softer and with more meaning.  “I guess I’ve never thought about what that was like for you.  I don’t really even remember much about what happened after I fell on that ice.  It’s all pretty hazy after that.  I guess it’s not so hazy for you.”

Al shook his head vehemently.  “No, Kid, it’s not.  I remember it all crystal clear.  Everything from you begging me not leave you to you flat lining in the helicopter to the seizure you had at the hospital.  Every single time I thought that that was it.”  Sam started to say something but Al quickly cut him off.  “You know what was even worse?  Watching your mother go through it all, trying to be strong, and making sure no one saw her crying.  I don’t want there to be a reason for her to see you like that again.  Trust me, I’m not trying to piss you off or drive your crazy.”

Sam looked down to the floor understanding a little better why Al had kept up the mothering and, in a small way, he was grateful for it.  It was clear that the older man not only wanted to protect Sam but that he also wanted to protect Thelma as well.  “Thanks for worrying about Mom,” he quietly said.  He raised his head and looked Al in the face.  “I guess I never did thank you for staying with her and being there for her when I was in the hospital.”

Al waved off Sam’s thanks.  “I wanted to do it, Sam.”  He rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath before looking at Sam again.  “How ‘bout if we just start over, pretend I didn’t just ask you all that stuff and move on.”

“Ok, that sounds good.”

Al started to walk to the garage again when Sam called him back.  “What’s up?”

“I know you enjoy pissing me off,” Sam said with as big a smile as he could muster.

For just a moment Al stood, struck dumb by what Sam had said before it hit him and he started laughing.  Sam joined in on the laughter.  “I guess you finally figured me out, Sam.  I’ve stuck around you this long because I love pissin’ you off.”

Eventually their laughter died down and Al again started out for the garage only to be stopped again when Sam asked what he was going out there for.

“To get the rest of the stuff I bought,” Al answered as he finally reached the door leading to the garage.

Sam’s brow furrowed with confusion at Al’s answer.  “What else did you buy?  I thought you were just getting milk and a few things.  You know Mom’s going to want to do her own grocery shopping.”

“I know that,” Al answered as he unlocked the trunk of the car.  He pulled out the wreath that was laid there and handed it over to Sam.  “I think I’m going to have put a nail on your front door to hang that.”  He opened up the backseat and pulled out the largest potted poinsettia that Sam could remember ever seeing.

“What’s that for?” Sam asked eyeing the blood red plant.

Al gave Sam a little shove in the direction of the house.  “It’s to put on the file cabinet behind the couch.  Women love these.  If you have one in the house already it means your mother won’t go store to store looking for the perfect one.”  Seeing Sam’s skeptical look, Al hastened to reassure him.  “Trust me, she’ll love it.”

“If you say so,” Sam agreed though he didn’t seem to be completely convinced.  To his eye, the plant was too big but Al seemed sure.  When Al put the plant in place Sam had to admit that it did seem to fill in the space.

“I’m just gonna stick this on your door,” Al said as he took the wreath from Sam, “and you’ll be all set unless you have a sudden urge to string lights up on the roof.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think we need to go to that extreme.  But…uh…I could use some help with something else.”  Sam followed Al through the foyer where he leaned the wreath up against the wall and backtracked to the garage.  He came back a minute later with a hammer and nail.

“What do you need?” Al asked as he drove the nail in place and hung the wreath on it.

“I was trying to wrap Mom’s gifts and I can’t do a very good job of it right now.  Do you think you could give me a hand with them before we leave to pick up Mom?”

Al gave the red bow on the wreath a last twitch smoothing it out and swung the door shut.  “Let me put this back and I’ll give you hand.”

“Great,” Sam said with a smile.  “I’ve got them in my room.  I’ll meet you in there.”

“What the hell happened in here?” Al exclaimed as he walked into Sam’s bedroom.  “I thought we cleaned up in here?”

Al stood in the middle of the room surveying what could only be termed the wake of Hurricane Beckett.  The bed still had the sheets and blankets balled up in the middle where Sam had pushed them when he’d gotten out of bed.  Added to that was a damp towel in the middle.  The area of the room where Sam had set up a seating area was covered in pieces of Christmas wrap and an assortment of oddly wrapped gifts.  In the middle of it sat Sam trying to wrap a box as neatly as he could.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked looking up from his work.  “It is clean.  It just needs to be straightened out a bit before Mom gets here.”

Al walked and stood over Sam surveying his poor attempts at wrapping.  “A bit?  It looks more like we need FEMA in here.  I’ve seen less damage after a hurricane.  Ok, time for some damage control.  I’ll give you an A for effort trying to wrap those yourself but they need some serious help.  You rip off the paper you put on them while I make your bed and then I’ll re-wrap them for you.”

Sam stopped wrapping the box he held and looked at it and the others.  “They are pretty bad, aren’t they?” he asked with a chuckle before he started to strip the paper away.

Al grabbed the damp towel off the bed and carried it to the bathroom.  “They make towel racks for a reason,” he called over his shoulder but he knew he might as well have been talking to a brick wall.  If there was one thing Sam suffered a mental block from, it was the correct place to put a used towel.

While Sam finished unwrapping the gifts, Al made up his bed.  Falling back on Navy training, a quarter could have been bounced off it when he was done.

“You have any preference for which paper these are wrapped in?” Al asked.  Once the bed was made he sat on the floor next to Sam to wrap the gifts.

Sam looked at the various rolls of paper around him weighing his choices before answering.  “No, I think anyone of them will be fine.”

Al reached for a roll of creamy colored paper highlighted by golden angels and crimson poinsettias.  “Why don’t you start picking up all this trash while I wrap these up for you?”

Within 20 minutes, all of the Thelma’s gifts were wrapped save one – the box that came from the jewelers.  Sam opened the box and fingered the contents of it.  “Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked suddenly unsure.  When he picked out the object a week ago, it had seemed perfect.  Now that Christmas was almost here, Sam was questioning whether he’d made the right choice.

Al took the box from Sam and looked at the object inside of it.  “It’s perfect, Sam,” he reassured.  “She’s going to love it.”

“Are you sure?”  Sam questioned still unsure that he’d made the right decision.

At first, Al thought to lighten the moment with a joke but drew back on that when he saw how uncertain Sam really was.  “I’m positive,” he stated before putting the cover back on the box, wrapping it and handing it to Sam.  “You need anything else wrapped up?”

“Just your stuff but I’ll ask Mom to help me with that.”

Al gathered up all of the wrapped packages and put them in a shopping bag that was on the floor nearby.  “Here, take these out to put under the tree and I’ll get that box your Mom sent and we can put that stuff there as well.”

Sam took the bag but didn’t leave the room.  Instead, he waited just outside the walk-in closet until Al had secured the box.

“What?  Don’t you trust me?” Al said when he turned around and saw Sam waiting for him.

“No,” Sam simply answered.  “I don’t.”

“Geez, Kid.  That hurts.  That really, really hurts.” 

“It’s not gonna work, Al.  You’re not going to make me feel guilty.  I know if I didn’t watch you you’d go through everything in there to find out what I got you.  You’re worse than a little kid.”

“Like you’re any better,” Al accused slipping by Sam with the box.

“I haven’t gone snooping once.”

“Sure, that’s only because I’ve got your stuff back at my apartment.  Makes it a little hard to go snooping.  Now if it were all here….”

“Ok, ok,” Sam said with a laugh.  “You win.  I’m just as bad as you.”

While Al put the gifts under the tree, Sam took the three stockings that Thelma had sent and hung them on the hooks they’d bought for the fireplace.  “We never hung them by the fireplace when I was a kid,” he commented as he hung up the last one.  “We’d always have our stockings tied to our bedpost.  I think it was so it would keep us amused for a little while and give Mom and Dad and extra half hour to sleep.”

“Why do I see you leading the charge to the tree on Christmas morning?” Al asked from his place under the tree.

Sam neither confirmed nor denied Al’s statement, he just laughed softly.

Sam ended up surprising Al for the rest of the morning.  After the gifts and stockings were in place, he sat down on the couch with a book and spent the rest of the morning reading.  He also sat down to read after lunch had been eaten and cleaned up.

Al took advantage of the time they had until they had to leave for the airport to work on some of the budgeting they’d need for the project.  While Sam sat in the living room reading, Al used the computer in the office to get a good chunk of the work done.  Thelma’s flight wasn’t due in until a little after 5:00 so that meant they didn’t have to leave until about 3:00.

At about 2:30 Al realized that he hadn’t heard any noise from Sam in a while and went out to the living room to see what he was doing.  He wasn’t surprised to find Sam curled up in the armchair, book on his chest fast asleep.  On the one hand, he would have liked nothing better than to let him continue sleeping.  On the other, he knew if he didn’t wake Sam in time to pick up Thelma, he’d never hear the end of it.  Besides that, if the kid stayed in the position he was in for much longer he’d end up one doozy of a crick in his neck – if he didn’t have one already.

Al took a moment to look at Sam’s sleeping face before waking him.  In slumber, he seemed more youthful than his 34 years.  Events in life had conspired to age Sam faster than they should have forcing him to live and act as an adult when he should have still been enjoying the carefree days of youth.  Some people might have become bitter at the hand life dealt them but Sam had accepted it and, instead, used it as the catalyst that spurred him on to help others where he could.

He didn’t talk about it much but Al had the feeling that Sam’s youth wasn’t all sunshine and happiness.  His high intelligence would have set him apart from his peers and, at times, was probably more of a handicap to life than a boon.  Sam had alluded to that in some regard when they were on the mountain.  Al had the distinct impression that Sam’s childhood was probably a lot lonelier than anyone would have thought.  The saving grace for him was that he had such a loving family that sought to not only nurture the gift he’d been given but help it flourish by providing him with as normal and stable a life as they could.

As Al was watching, Sam’s countenance changed from one of peaceful repose to one of anxiety.  His brows knitted together and he arched his neck back as a soft groan came from him.  Al guessed that he was probably having a bad dream – most likely about the plane crash.  Sam had had more than a few of them in the months since they’d gotten back from Colorado.  If he was forced to admit it, Al had had a few of his own.

He gently shook Sam awake hoping to spare him from the worst of the dream.  “C’mon, Kid, time to wake up,” he softly said.

Sam moaned again, pulling away from Al’s hand.  Al again attempted to gently shake Sam awake and garnered a reaction this time.

“No, stop,” Sam cried out just before his eyes snapped open.  He pulled back sharply in the chair when he saw how closely Al was leaning over him before visibly relaxing.  “I was dreaming,” he needlessly informed Al.

“I could see that.  Must have been a real doozy.”  Al kept his voice pitched low and soft in an effort to soothe Sam who, although he was now awake, still seemed a skittish.  “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Sam said as he passed his hand over his face almost in an attempt to wipe away any residual of the dream.  “I was on the plane again and it was going down except this time you weren’t there to get it down safely and I couldn’t stop it.  I woke up just before it crashed.”

“Has that been happening a lot?” Al asked.

“Sometimes every night,” Sam admitted.  “Then sometimes there’re days where I don’t dream about it.  This was the first time in about a week.”

The plane crash had done Sam no favors leaving him fearful of boarding any plane – small craft or commercial.  The two trips to Washington had been especially hard and he’d had to get a prescription for a tranquilizer to get through it.  When Al had first suggested he ask Dr. Elliot for the prescription he’d meant it as a joke.  He’d been surprised when Sam had taken what he’d said seriously and done just that.  He’d been further surprised when he’d taken it on both trips to DC.  Even with the use of it, he’d still been a bundle of nerves.

“Maybe you should talk to someone about it,” Al suggested.

“I am, Al.  I just told you.”

“I mean someone who can help you.”

“I don’t need someone to tell me it’s just a dream.  I’ll get over it or learn to live with it.  Either way, it’ll be fine.”

Al had had more than his fair share of experiences with both psychologists and psychiatrists when he’d come back from Vietnam and could understand some of Sam’s reluctance in not wanting to seek out the help of one.  He chose to change the subject to get Sam’s mind away from the dream.  “We need to head out in a little while if we’re going to make it to the airport on time.”  He looked at Sam with a critical eye noting the paleness of his complexion and the shadows that were now visible beneath his eyes.  “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to stay here and get a little more rest.  I can drive to the airport and pick up your mother by myself.”

For just a moment, Sam looked like he wanted to agree with Al’s suggestion.  His answer, though, was the complete opposite.  “No.  If I’m not there to meet her, she’s going to think something’s wrong with me.  Besides, I want to be there when she gets off the plane.”

You need to see that she got here safely with your own eyes, Al added silently to himself.

Sam straightened up in the chair from his slouch and groaned slightly.  As Al suspected, the position he’d been sleeping in had left him stiff and with a crick in his neck.  “You think we should just leave now?” he asked as he rubbed the side of his neck.  “There’s probably going to be a lot of traffic and I bet the airport’s going to be a nuthouse.”

“Yeah, we probably should,” Al agreed.  “It won’t hurt if we get there a little early.  I guess that’s better than getting there late and having your mother waiting for us.”

Before leaving the house for the airport, they again had a discussion over what Sam was wearing.  He’d grabbed the same sweatshirt to put on under his coat that he had the night they went out to dinner.  Al tried to argue him out of it telling him that Thelma wouldn’t approve but he didn’t manage to make his case.  It seemed that feeling cold was yet another leftover Sam had from their time in Colorado.

Al was on his third loop of the parking lot looking for a space.  Beside him, Sam had rocketed past antsy and was ready to move a car out of their way physically.  Traffic had been heavier coming into the airport than either had thought it would be.  Now with the difficulty finding a parking space they’d be hard-pressed to make it to the gate on time to meet Thelma’s flight.

“There, right there,” Sam anxiously said pointing at space recently vacated.

Al put on his directional to signal that he was going to pull into the spot but that didn’t stop another driver from trying to cut him off.  Both drivers put on the brakes just before there would have been a collision.

“Idiot!  What are you blind?  Did you miss the directional?” Sam yelled out though there was no way the other driver could hear him.

Al was surprised at Sam’s outburst.  Generally, he was the one who would start screaming at other drivers while Sam took it all in stride.  “You might wanna simmer down a little there, Kid,” he suggested.  “You’re getting a little red in the face.”

Sam took a deep breath and held it with his eyes closed before blowing it out noisily.  “We’re going to be late and I don’t want Mom to have to wait.  You had your directional on and now look, he’s not moving.  He’s just sitting there.”  Sam stripped off his seatbelt yelling once again at the other driver.  “What the hell are you doing?”  At the last second, Al grabbed him by his coat just before he popped the door to climb out.

The driver of the other car must have gotten the message when Sam tried to climb out because he quickly backed out of their way and Al was able to pull into the spot.

Once Al had switched off the engine and pulled the keys out of the ignition, he turned in the seat to face Sam who was again trying to get out of the car.  Al once more prevented him from doing so by grabbing at his coat.

“What’re you doing?” Sam asked with little patience trying to free himself from Al’s grip.  “C’mon, we’re going to be late.”

“If we’re a minute or two late the world’s not going to end.  You need to sit there for a second and calm down.  You go charging through the airport to your mother like this and she is going to think something’s wrong.”  Al attempted to remain calm and rational in the face of Sam’s impatience and frustration.  “Just sit there for a second and take a deep breath and settle down.”

Sam did as he was told but the tenseness in his body didn’t drain away as Al hoped.  Realizing that Sam was about as calm as he was going to get, Al released the hold he had on him allowing him to exit the vehicle.  He practically had to run to keep up with younger man as he took off across the parking lot and through the airport.

Sam didn’t pause or stop until he’d reached the gate Thelma’s flight would be disembarking at.  The plane was just arriving when they got there.  When Sam saw it, he seemed visibly to relax to a certain degree.

“She’ll be here in a few minutes,” Al murmured to him and patted him on the back.  “Try to relax.”

Sam nodded his head taking another deep breath and letting it go and Al felt some of the tenseness drain from his body.  When the passengers started streaming out of the jet way, the tenseness returned once more as Sam craned his head trying to see his mother in the crowd.  Finally, he saw her emerge from the jet way and rushed over to greet her.

When Thelma caught sight of her son coming in her direction, her face broke into a beaming smile.  When he wrapped her in a one-armed bear hug, she returned the greeting just as enthusiastically.  Al hung back allowing them some small measure of privacy in the crowded airport.  He couldn’t hear what words they exchanged but watched as Thelma tenderly cupped her son’s cheek and then caressed his injured shoulder gently before pulling him into another loving hug.

When Thelma released him, Sam looked around and, spotting where Al was still standing, gestured for him to come over.  As soon as he was in reach, Thelma greeted him with a hug and a kiss.  “It’s so good to see you again, Al,” she said when she stepped back.

“You too, Mrs. Beckett.  I hope you had a good flight.”

“It was long – too long, but at least now I’m here.”  Thelma put an arm around Sam’s waist pulling him to her.  He leaned into her welcoming the closeness of his mother.

The three started to walk in the direction of the luggage pickup area chatting along and catching up.  Thelma had expressed concern over Sam’s worn-out look but he’d assured her it was nothing that a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure.

“You know, while you and Mom go to get her luggage, I could go get the car and meet you both at the door.  It’ll be faster that way,” Sam suggested.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Al objected.  “Remember, you’re the one who said you couldn’t drive with your arm like that.  We’ll get your Mom’s luggage and I’ll get the car and meet the two of you at the door.”

“I can’t drive my car because it’s a standard.  Yours is an automatic so I can handle that.  It’s not like I’m going to go drive on the freeway – just from the parking space to here.”  Sam was trying his best to be persuasive but Al didn’t seem to be in the mood to be persuaded.

“No,” Al said shaking his head.  “We’ll do it my way.  That parking lot’s a zoo and you only have the use of one arm to steer.  Besides, I saw what you were like just sitting in the passenger seat.  I let you out there by yourself you might commit homicide.”

“What’s the matter, Al,” Sam challenged, “you afraid I’m going to scratch your car or something.”

“Yeah, maybe I am.  Look, we’ll just do it my way and it’ll go a lot smoother.”

Neither of the two realized that they’d stopped in the middle of a walkway to have their discussion and that other people now had to dodge around them.  Both of them were so intent on getting his own way that they’d blocked out the fact that they were in a crowded airport concourse.  Finally, Thelma stepped in to bring some semblance to the proceedings.

“We’ll all go down to get the luggage and we’ll all go to the car together,” she stated firmly.

“No way, Mom,” Sam said adamantly shaking his head at Thelma  “We’re all the way across the parking lot from here.  You don’t need to walk that far.  I can go get the car and meet you here.”

“Are you disagreeing with me, young man?” Thelma asked with an arched eyebrow.  To an outsider it may have sounded like she was joking with Sam but Al could hear the steel underneath her voice.  Evidently, Sam could as well.

“No, Ma’am.  I just don’t want you to have to walk that far.”

“That wouldn’t be because you think your mother’s too old, now would it?”  This time there was more humor and less steel in Thelma’s voice.  She’d already caught Sam, though, and he was backpedaling to get himself out of trouble.

“No, Mom.  I don’t think you’re too old.  I just didn’t think you should have to walk all that way, that’s all.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” Thelma said sweetly while patting Sam on the cheek.  “We’re all going to stick together.”

She turned away from the two and proceeded on toward the luggage pickup.  Sam stood motionless with his mouth hanging open as he realized his mother had won without having to put up very much of a fight.

“Now I can see why you didn’t get anything past her,” Al commented before brushing by Sam and following in Thelma’s wake.

Sam stood still for another few seconds before rushing to catch up with Thelma and Al.

“Mom, I can…do it myself,” Sam said - his voice trailing off.  They’d decided to stop along the way to get an early dinner.  Sam had been quite careful about ordering something that he’d be able to eat on his own without any assistance.  There hadn’t been very many choices on the menu that fit the bill, though, and he’d decided to go with a boneless, stuffed chicken breast with the thought that he’d be able to use his fork to cut through it.  What he hadn’t bargained on was Thelma pulling his plate close to her so that she could cut his food for him as soon as the waiter had put it down.

“I could have done it,” he groused when she’d finished and put the plate back in front of him.

“I’m sure you could have done something with it eventually but by then it would have been too cold.  Now hush and eat.”

Al did his best to hide the smile that he felt tickling the corners of his mouth as he watched his grown friend treated like a child.  He felt Sam’s eyes on him and quickly engaged Thelma in conversation before the younger man could have a chance to say anything to him about the smile.

While Thelma and Al conversed, Sam silently picked at his food pushing it around his plate more than putting it in his mouth.  It wasn't unnoticed by either of his dining companions.  When he put down his fork and said he’d eaten enough, Thelma voiced her opinion to the contrary before Al could.

“You’ve hardly eaten anything, Sweetheart.  You need to eat more than that.”

“I’m not hungry,” Sam reiterated as he reached into his pocket for the bottle of antibiotics.

“What’s that?” Thelma asked when she saw the prescription label on the bottle.  “Is your shoulder bothering you?”

Sam put the pill in his mouth and swallowed it before answering his mother.  “My shoulder’s fine.  This is an antibiotic.  Dr. Elliot wants me to take it for a few days as a precaution.”

“A precaution against what?” Thelma asked alarmed.

“It’s nothing, Mom,” Sam said wearily.  “My white cell count was a little on the high side when I saw him yesterday so he wants me to take it to prevent any kind of infection.”

“You should be home resting then,” she said with concern coving Sam’s hand with hers.

“Another one,” Sam said sote voce.  “I don’t need to be home resting,” Sam answered in a louder voice.  “It’s a preventative measure, that’s all.  I’m not sick and I don’t need to be resting and I wish everyone would stop telling me that.”

Thelma’s eyes grew round as Sam’s voice rose in volume.  As soon as he saw it, he immediately felt bad.  He’d been so looking forward to his mother’s visit and now it seemed like everything was getting off on the wrong foot.

“I’m sorry, Mom.  I didn’t mean to get short with you.  I guess I am a little tired.”  Sam put his napkin down next to his plate and rose.  “Would you both excuse me?  I’ll be…uh…I’ll be right back.”  He didn’t give either Al or Thelma a chance to answer before rushing away from the table.

Thelma watched him leave in concern.  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked once she was sure Sam was out of earshot.

“It’s like he said, he’s tired.”  Seeing the skeptical look on Thelma’s face, Al hastened to explain further.  “He hasn’t given himself a chance to really rest since the surgery and I think it’s all just hitting him at once.  Once he gets home and gets a good night’s sleep I bet he’ll be right as rain.”  Al hoped he sounded more convincing than he thought since he wasn’t totally convinced that was all that was wrong.

“What about that antibiotic?  Is he really only taking it as a precaution?”

“That’s all.  It’s just to make sure he doesn’t come down with anything.”

Thelma sat back eyeing the direction Sam had rushed off in.  “I don’t completely believe you, Al, and I don’t think you believe yourself either but I’m willing to give him a chance.”

“That’s all we can do.”  Al pushed his chair back from the table.  “I’m going to go make sure he’s all right.  I’ll be right back.”  He didn’t wait for confirmation from Thelma before following in the direction Sam had taken.

He found Sam leaning over one of the sinks in the men’s room splashing water on his face.  “You doing ok?” he asked resting a hand on Sam’s back.

Sam straightened up so that he could see his reflection and Al’s in the mirror above the sink.  “What’s wrong with me?” he asked the reflection of Al.

“What’s wrong, Kid, is that you’ve let yourself get too tensed up.  That’s what’s wrong.  You’re so strung out right now you can’t enjoy anything.  You’ve spent so much time worrying about getting everything just perfect for your mother and now that she’s here you can’t let yourself just relax and enjoy it.”

Sam turned around to face Al leaning back on the sink behind him.  “You really think that’s all?”

Al shrugged holding his hands out in a gesture of not knowing.  “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me that’s wrong, yeah.”  He bent down slightly trying to catch Sam’s gaze since he’d angled his face down.  “Just forget about everything for the next couple of days and just enjoy.  You’ve earned it.”

“You’re right,” Sam agreed pushing away from the sink he was leaning against.  “I just need to let it all go now.  Why don’t you go back out with Mom and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Why don’t you come with me now,” Al urged.

Sam smiled sheepishly and pointed to the row of urinals across from where they were standing.  “I sorta came in here for a reason and I don’t think I need an audience for that.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.  I’ll meet you outside,” Al quickly agreed.

Thelma was sitting anxiously at the table looking in the direction they’d gone in when Al arrived back at the table.  “He’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Is he ok?” Sam’s mother asked with concern.

“He’s fine,” Al reassured her patting her hand as he sat back down.  “Like I said, he’s just tired and little stressed right now.  He’s been going like a house afire trying to get everything ready for you.”

“Well like it or not I’m going to make sure he does nothing but rest for the next couple of days.”  Thelma said it with such finality Al had no doubt she’d force the younger man to do just that and if he were smart, he wouldn’t complain.

Sam rejoined them a few minutes later and if he didn’t look completely at ease, at least he didn’t look quite as strung out as he had when he’d left the table.

“Sorry about that, Mom,” he said with a smile.  “I guess I just needed to blow off a little steam.”

“It’s ok, Sweetheart.  I understand completely.  Just do me one favor?”

“What?” Sam asked eager to please his mother.

“Eat just a little bit more.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”  Sam picked up his fork and starting eating his dinner again with relish.  He surprised everyone at the table when he ended up finishing all that was on his plate and then suggesting that they get dessert.  “I guess I was hungrier than I thought,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Like I keep telling you, you’re always starving,” Al said bringing laughter to the table.

“Your suitcases are in the bedroom,” Al said coming into the living room where Thelma and Sam were sitting side by side on one of the couches talking quietly.  “I’m gonna head back to my apartment now but if you need anything, give me a call.”

Sam spun around to face Al.  “What do you mean; you’re going back to your apartment.  I thought you were going to stay with us for Christmas.”

“I am but in case you haven’t looked at a calendar lately, today’s only the 22^nd.  It’s not Christmas.”

“I know that.  I just thought….”

“Sam, I’ll be back Thursday morning but right now it’s time for you and your Mom to spend some time together – without me.  When’s the last time you did that without being in a hospital bed?  Besides, I’ve got a few errands I need to run down in Santa Fe tomorrow.”

“Are you sure, Al?  You know you’re welcome to stay here.”

“I’m sure,” Al replied.  Sam’s insistence on wanting to include him in this time with his mother warmed Al’s heart but he knew that it was important for Sam to spend some time with his mother by himself.  “Sam said something about you wanting to do some grocery shopping tomorrow, Mrs. Beckett.  I can swing by here after I get back from Santa Fe and take you.”

“Nonsense,” Thelma said as she also turned to face Al.  “You’ve done plenty already.  I can drive Sam’s car and he can give me directions.”  She reached around to pat Al’s hand where it rested on the back of the couch.  “We’ll be just fine by ourselves.  You go on and do whatever it is you have to do tomorrow and we’ll see you on Christmas Eve.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Ma’am.  I don’t want you to worry about getting anything for dinner on Christmas Eve.”

“You planning on ordering out or are you scared of my Mom’s cooking?”  Sam was feeling much more relaxed and mellow since getting home and it showed in the easy banter.

“No, I’m not going to order out and I’m not scared of your Mom’s cooking.”  Al switched his attention to Thelma gracing her with a wide smile.  “I’m looking forward to your cooking after all Sam’s raved about it.  I plan on cooking the two of you dinner for Christmas Eve, though.  A nice traditional Italian meal – linguine and clam sauce.”

At the mention of his planned dinner, Thelma graced Al with a smile.  “Well, that sounds lovely, Al and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, Al, that does sound good.  I’ll even help you cook it.”  Sam made the offer with innocent eyes but a wide grin.

“No thank you.  I don’t think we want a hurricane going through the kitchen on Christmas Eve.”

Sam chuckled softly at Al’s jest.

“If the two of you are all set now, I’ll head out.”

Sam started to get up to walk Al out but the older man pushed him back down.  “You stay put.  I can let myself out.  I do it often enough.”

“He’s a good friend,” Thelma said once Al had left.  “You’re lucky.”

“Yeah, he is,” Sam agreed quickly.  “I know it means a lot to him spending Christmas with us.”  A sudden thought crossed Sam’s mind.  “You don’t mind, do you?  I mean, I never did ask if you minded if Al joined us.”

“Sammy, hush,” Thelma said putting her hand over Sam’s mouth to stop him.  “I’m very happy that Al’s going to be here for Christmas.  He’s a part of the family now and this is where he should be.  He’s a good man.  It just took me a while to see that.”

“He is,” was Sam’s simple but sincere agreement.  Before he could say anything else, a yawn nearly split his face in two.  “Sorry,” he apologized blushing slightly.

Thelma looked around the room before getting up to stand by the tree.  “The house looks lovely and this tree is beautiful.”

Sam joined his mother near the tree.  “Al had a lot to do with it.  If he hadn’t helped me out the last few days you might have had to stay at a hotel.”  Sam shuddered at the thought of the mix of his mother and the state his house was in just a few days ago.

“I highly doubt it couldn’t have been that bad.  You might not always be the tidiest person but I know you’re also not a complete slob.”

“Oh, you’d have been surprised, Mom.”

“I see you put the lights on the tree in a spiral pattern,” Thelma commented after looking at the tree with a critical eye.

Sam let out a huff of laughter.  “I suggested to Al that he should go up and down instead of round and round with the lights and he suggested that I could be the angel on top of the tree this year.  I thought it might be a good idea to let him have his way.”

“I always knew you were a smart boy,” Thelma replied dryly.  She wandered over to the piano, sat down, opened up the cover over the keyboard, and played a few bars smiling fondly.  “You keep it in tune,” she remarked looking over her shoulder at Sam.

“Yeah.  I try to play it whenever I can.”  He gestured to the sling his left arm was supported in as frustration crept into his voice.  “I haven’t been able to play much since the surgery.”

Thelma patted the piano bench next to her.  “Come over here with me.  It’s been so long since we’ve played together.”

Sam obliged his mother sitting down next to her.  As she started to play “Silent Night”, he joined her.  When she joined her voice to the music of the piano, he stopped playing.  He was content to simply watch and listen as his mother filled the room with music.  As she sang, he realized that the tension he’d still felt in his body seemed to melt away.  It was Christmas and his mother was here with him – he was home.  “Voice of an angel,” he whispered when she was done.

“Your father used to say the same thing,” Thelma wistfully responded.  “That was his favorite Christmas carol.”  She carefully closed the cover over the keyboard and ran her hand along the smooth wood.  “I’ve missed playing this.  Did you know your father gave me this piano for Christmas the year you were born?  I could never figure out how he was able to afford it and he’d never tell me.  You fell in love with it the minute you heard it.  It never failed.  Whenever you were crying and fussing I’d put you down near the piano and play and you’d stop crying almost immediately.”

“I always love to hear you play, Mom.  I probably wouldn’t have loved it so much if it weren’t for you,” Sam told her sincerely.  His serious tone was broken when another yawn threatened to crack his jaw.

“You need to go to bed and get some sleep,” Thelma told him getting up from the piano bench.  “I don’t want any sass from you either.  Al told me you haven’t gotten much rest since the surgery and I’m going to see to it that you get it now.”

“It’s still early, Mom and you just got here.”

“And I’m going to be here for two weeks.  We’ll have plenty of time together.  Now, up you go.”  Thelma tugged on Sam’s arm until he finally stood up.  When he did, he wrapped her in another hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Mom,” he whispered.

“I am too, Sweetheart.”  Thelma pulled him down kissing him softly on the cheek.  “Now off to bed with you,” she said as she swatted him on the butt.

“Ok, ok,” Sam laughed.  “You don’t have to get violent, I’m going.  Goodnight,” he said giving her another peck on the cheek.

“Sleep tight,” Thelma replied.

Sam got as far as his bedroom door before he realized he’d need his mother’s help before he could go to bed.  “Uh, Mom, I’m…uh…gonna need some help getting ready.”

Thelma joined him at the door to the bedroom.  “What’s wrong, Sam?  What do you need?” she asked him with some measure of concern.

“It’s nothing bad, Mom.  I just need you to secure the immobilizer for me.  That’s all.  That way I won’t move my arm while I’m sleeping.”  He stepped fully into the bedroom, switched the light on, and remembered then that Al had made the bed for him completely that afternoon.  “I guess I’m gonna need you to pull the bedspread down, too.”

Thelma brushed past Sam and in a businesslike manner grabbed his pajamas where they were in a neatly folded pile at the foot of his bed and handed them to him.  “You go get changed and I’ll get your bed ready for you.”

By the time Sam came out of the bathroom, Thelma had pulled down the bedspread and folded the sheet and blanket back.  Sam finished adjusting the sling before grabbing the immobilizer from where he’d left it on the top of the bureau.  He handed it to Thelma, sat down on the edge of bed, and explained to her how to put it on him.  “You can pull it a little tighter than that,” he said when she first fastened it in place.

“Are you sure,” Thelma asked with some reluctance.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Sam assured.  “It’s got to be tight enough to prevent my shoulder from moving.

Once Thelma had pulled the immobilizer tight enough, Sam again tried to convince her that he didn’t have to go to bed.  “I can lay down on the couch and keep you company for a while,” he tried to convince her.

“No,” Thelma answered him firmly.  “You’re going to get in this bed and get a good night’s sleep.  Besides, I’m pretty tired from all that traveling today and I’m going to turn in myself as well.”

“Ok,” Sam reluctantly agreed and lay back in the bed.  While he made himself comfortable, Thelma switched on the small bedside lamp and then went over to turn off the overhead light before coming back over to the bed.  She smoothed out the covers over Sam, tucking them securely around his shoulders.  She sat on the edge of the bed and started to card her fingers through his hair.

“What are you doing, Mom?” Sam asked in a low voice.

“I’m sitting with you until you fall asleep,” Thelma answered.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sam mumbled around a yawn.

“I know.  I want to, though.  Now hush and close your eyes.”

Sam did his mother’s bidding, sinking deeper into the pillows.  Soon his breathing evened out to a sleeping cadence.  Thelma continued to sit by him for another few moments still running her fingers through his hair.  She gazed down on him fondly seeing in his place the child he used to be.  Eventually she realized that she couldn’t sit and watch him sleep all night and rose from her place by the bed.  Before turning off the light, she kissed him gently on the forehead and again made sure the blankets were tucked in securely around him.  “Sleep tight, Sammy,” she whispered before turning off the light, leaving the room and retiring to her bedroom for the night.

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