A mistaken movement brought up a photo of 2 children. 2 girls, maybe 10 and 8."Here," she said patiently. She took the phone back from him. "Those yours?" Yes," he said.She looked at the kids a moment without expression, then brought back the application he wanted, now authenticated."Thanks," he said. "I'm supposed to show the damn thing off at our new products forum tomorrow morning." I look forward to being there," she said.She took a sip of her drink. "You know, it's funny, at home I couldn't've managed that. I'd've made a mess of it and my guy would've said 'Here let me'. When I pick up one of our thirteen remotes, I'm sure to turn on the DVD player when what I want is to change channels. I think once I turned on the microwave all the way in the kitchen, though my guy swears it has no remote at all and is not connected to anything but the power grid. At home I'm not allowed to touch anything. It's very sweet to be helpless."He looked at her with a faint smile."No," she said, "I. She rushed to him, her arms flying around him as she buried her face into his chest and sobbed. Sam sighed inwardly and sank down into the grass with her. He held her, just as he had held her in the funeral. Now, he knew that she needed to talk. ‘It’s okay to miss him,’ he said softly as she sobbed. ‘If you want to talk, I’m here.’ He was right. She needed to talk. Words came out of her in a frenzied, incoherent flow, then became a stream of memories. She told him about her father, and he held her and listened. When she finished it was evening and the sun was setting. ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, looking at her father’s grave as she sat down leaning against him. ‘Why don’t you come have lunch with me tomorrow?’ Sam suggested, idly stroking her hair. It’d do you good to get out of the house for a bit. Ann nodded and rose, pulling Sam up with her. She was a shadow of her old self now, but at least she was that. Sam led her to the house and left, thoughtful. He needed to tread carefully.
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