Whisper Goodbye by Myra Johnson

Author:Myra Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abingdon Fiction
Published: 2016-04-20T00:00:00+00:00

Gilbert encountered only a handful of hospital staff going to and fro as he made his way through the administration building. A receptionist at the front desk had told him Samuel should be in his office at this time on a Sunday morning. She’d even offered to telephone upstairs to announce Gilbert’s visit, but he’d asked her not to. No point risking Sam’s refusing to see him.

Not that he would. Samuel Vickary wasn’t that kind of man.

Gilbert hoped he was no longer “that kind of man” either. Only time would tell.

The corridor echoed with the click-click of Gilbert’s cane tip, the syncopated footfall of his artificial leg. Sam would hear him coming a mile away. He might already be planning a polite but hasty escape.

Outside Sam’s partially closed door, Gilbert paused and inhaled a steadying breath. Through the crack he glimpsed Sam tilted back in a wooden swivel chair, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, a sheaf of papers in his lap. His mouth moved silently, his brow creased in concentration.

Perhaps Gilbert shouldn’t interrupt. He started to back away, when Samuel glanced up and their gazes met.

Samuel set both feet on the floor, the pages slipping from his lap. “Gil.”

“Hello, Sam.” He nudged the door with his cane. “If this is a bad time . . .”

“Not at all!” Samuel stood so quickly his chair careened into the bookshelves behind him. “Come in, please.”

Gilbert took a hesitant step into the room. “Are you sure? You look busy.”

“Just going over my message for this morning’s chapel service.” Samuel fumbled to retrieve the papers he’d dropped. He looked as ill at ease as Gilbert felt. “It’s good to see you, Gil. You look well.”

“You too, Sam.” Gilbert squared his jaw and wedged sincerity into his tone. “Married life clearly agrees with you. I hope you and Annemarie are very, very happy.”

“We are. Thank you.” An uncertain smile tugged at Samuel’s lips. “Do you want to sit down? Care for some coffee?”

Gilbert took the nearest chair but waved away the offer of coffee. Twisting the handle of his cane, he waited for Sam to settle into his chair while he framed his thoughts. But then everything he’d intended to say—all the excuses and apologies and assurances he’d changed—came out in four whispered words: “I miss you, Sam.”

Samuel froze for a moment, hands gripping the chair arms. He breathed out slowly, his tense features relaxing. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“I’m so sorry—sorry for everything—”

“Stop. It’s all forgiven.” Samuel rose again and moved around to Gilbert’s side of the desk. He eased onto the chair beside Gilbert’s, leaning close, hands clasped between his knees. “You’ve always had my forgiveness, Gil. Even when you didn’t want it.”

Gilbert tipped forward, tangling his fingers in his hair. He stared at the toes of his shoes through a sheen of wetness. “You have every right to hate me. So does Annemarie.”

“Do you remember the story of Joseph from the book of Genesis?”

“My Bible knowledge is kind of rusty,” Gilbert answered with a weak laugh.

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