Sally nodded and looked away, but her grandmother’s voice rang in her ears and she looked back down at him. “That’s food,” she said kindly, glancing down the hallway as a nurse passed from one room to the other, doing her rounds no doubt.
“I’m sorry?” he returned, confused.
Sally cleared her throat, though nothing blocked it other than the fear of being caught. “Food, that’s what they say is good for the soul. But I’m sure rest is just as good,” she said, her eyes still down the hallway, following the nurse.
“Aaah, okay, yeah, that makes sense. I thought that was just the way to a man’s heart.” He winked and Sally frowned. Now it was her turn to be confused. The guard stood up, his smile suggesting light flirting with her. “Food, it’s the way to a man’s heart.”
Sally let her gaze drift back to him, taking in his eager, yet nervous expression. He was around the same age as her, yet he still held the carefree charm that people their age should.
“What about a woman’s heart? What’s the way to that?” he continued with his light flirting, Sally’s distracted attention not putting him off. “Is it food also? I’d like to take you to dinner if so.”
Sally watched the nurse down the hallway enter another room, the words of the guard finally attracting her attention. She knew what would put him off, the thing that always made men look at her a little differently than other women. It was the thing that made her stand out, and not in a good way.
“I have a son,” she said, finally looking the guard in the eye the way she always would whenever she thought of Taylor. Her chin lifted to show that she wasn’t, and never would be, ashamed of having her little boy, despite her youth.
The guard’s mouth twitched. “That’s nice, how old is he?”
She refrained from huffing out any annoyance.Be kind, Sally, no one can take that away from you. Her grandmother sang in her ears.
“He’s five. He’s sick. In fact, he’s having an operation right now,” Sally continued. The guard’s eyes widened as he listened, his smile falling, his expression turning blank. “I don’t have time to date; my son is my only priority right now. He takes all my time. That and working to pay his expensive medical bills.”
The guard nodded slowly, a small frown puckering between his eyebrows. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she replied, hearing the familiar tone in his voice that she’d heard a thousand times before.
“I have a daughter, she’s seven,” the guard said as Sally turned away. She looked back and he offered her a small lopsided smile. “Her mother and I split within the first year, if that’s what you’re worried about. I spend every Saturday with her so she’s normally my date, but I’m sure she’d like to share me at some point, especially if we coincided it with a playdate.” He swallowed, his nerves finally showing. “I’m Jack, or daddy,” he laughed.
“Oh,” Sally replied with surprise. It had never gotten to this point before. Normally the thought of a child—a sick child to boot—was enough to turn any man away. But not this one. She looked him over, really taking the time to look at him since she had dismissed him so easily previously.
He was attractive and around her age, but the thing that stood out to her more than anything was the gentleness to his features. And of course the fact that he had a daughter.
“So, how about it?” Jack asked, rubbing his hands together nervously.
Sally didn’t know what to say. It had been so long since she had dated, well, since she had been on a date with someone she wanted to. She’d had a disastrous date with her boss earlier in the week, but she didn’t count that as anything meaningful. She’d been coerced into that. Men had always given her the same look when she found out she had a child. It was a mixture of both sympathy and disgust. Tramp, they thought. She knew they thought it. She could see it in the downturn of their mouths.
Jack took a step back, his confidence waning. “Sorry, not to worry, I get it. I better let you get back to work.” He sat back down in his uncomfortable looking chair, his gaze downcast. She was certain his cheeks would be flushed red in embarrassment if the lights were brighter.
Sally let go of the door handle and took a step back. Uncertainty washed through her actions. Surely, she thought, surely she deserved some small piece of happiness? She was only young, yet in the five years since Taylor’s birth she had known only pain. No family, no money, no friends.
If she went in that room, she could never see Jack again. She could never see if this thing between them could turn into something more. She thought of Jack’s daughter and Taylor playing together in the park. He would be healthy, and he would let the roundabout twirl him round and round, his hair blowing around his head like it had done when he was little, before he got sick.
“Sure, that sounds nice,” she said, her voice barely audible, but Jack heard. He looked up at her, a smile widening on his face. “My name’s Sally.”
Jack stood back up. “I’m off tomorrow, I could take you to lunch?”
“I’m not sure. Like I said, Taylor—my little boy, he’s having an operation right now, I’ll have to see…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but it was clear what she was saying.
“Sure, oh God yeah. Totally get it. Can I get your number? I’ll phone you, we can arrange something when he’s better.”
When he was better. The words hung in the air between them and Sally had the urge to cry. She’d been so strong, held on so tight to that same hope, but the last day had been a living nightmare and her hope had been gradually slipping. Yet Jack had confidence that he’d be okay, even though he had no idea what was wrong. Sally felt her own strength grow.
“Yes, when he gets better,” she said, a soft smile playing on her face.
Jack handed his phone over, the contact list open and ready for Sally to input her details. She put in her number, adding her name as only Sally and then handed it back to him. The nurse had finally made her way to the room. She glanced at Sally with a small frown, confusion over who she was playing on her face.
The nurse put her hand on the door handle and pushed down, glancing quickly into the room and then back out at Sally. Heat flamed Sally’s cheeks as she wondered what she was going to say when questioned. Before the nurse could ask her anything, her eyes widened and she looked back into the darkened room.
“Oh no,” the nurse said, pushing fully into the room, her thoughts on who Sally was long forgotten. “We need security, right now.”
