It was quite overwhelming. I’d put on my white cotton gloves, rather than use the hand gel—
I reasoned that I could run them through a boil wash as soon as I got home.
This occasioned a certain hesitancy in the handshakes, which was strange—
surely a cotton barrier between our respective skin surfaces could only be a good thing?
“Thanks so much for taking care of my dad, guys,” the older brother, Keith, said, wiping his hands on the front of his trousers.
“It means a lot, to know he wasn’t on his own when it happened, that he had people looking out for him.”
“Hey, now,” said Sammy, nudging him with his elbow, “I’m not some doddery old invalid, you know. I can look after myself.”
They smiled at one another. “Course you can, Dad. I’m just saying, it’s nice to have a friendly face around sometimes, eh?”
Sammy shrugged, not conceding the point but graciously allowing it to pass.
“I’ve got some good news for you two,” Sammy said to us, leaning back contentedly into his pillows
while Raymond and I deposited our carrier bags like myrrh and frankincense at the foot of his bed.
“I’m getting out on Saturday!” Raymond high-fived him, after some initial awkwardness
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