50 - Have to

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Sam wouldn't say Turner felt like home, but it served as a good home base. It also allowed him to avoid The Point. Without Rory, the place he loved was miserable.

Sam had one more weekend game, and then he was done. He loved his assignment and his work, but the traveling had grown old. Maybe it was returning to his nonna and not Rory that had him weary. Nonna didn't run out to meet him. He called for her, but the house was empty.

When she arrived home with a grocery bag, she said, "I was at the store buying food for my grandson."

"I'll get the rest of the bags."

He made two trips and found Nonna sitting in a chair.

"You, okay?"

"Pfft. Just taking a load off."

Sam didn't think she had much of a load. Maybe he had been too self-centered not to notice, but she looked like she was wasting away.

He began unpacking the bags and found bottles of medicine - antacids, heartburn relief, the pink stomach stuff, and diarrhea medicine.

He looked at her, but she looked at him pleading. Did she want him to ignore what he saw, or did she want help?

He felt dread choking him. "Nonna, what's going on?"

She waved her hand. "It's the cheese."

She had been blaming her lack of appetite on cheese and the TV since his first visit. Cole felt guilty for missing Keira's signs, Sam suddenly felt very guilty.

"You need to see a doctor."

She dismissed him. "They don't know what they are talking about."

He looked at her. "What did they say?"

"A bunch of mumbo jumbo. They want my money."

"Nonna, you have medicare. You can afford the doctor."

"I'm tired of doctors."

Sam pleaded. "Tell me what the doctors said."

She sighed and sat quietly. He could tell she was wrestling in her mind. Her emotions were etched across her thin face. Sam's fingers itched to capture her. He took out his camera and clicked. She looked up at him questioning.

He shrugged. "Please, what did they say?"

"Nonsense. In the desk drawer."

A lot of things over the past year had matured him, but nothing like his walk to the living room and what he read. They were once plain sheets of white paper, but they held words he would never forget. Invasive, untreatable, gastrointestinal. The report was dated back in October. He came almost every week, and she had kept her diagnosis from him. Instead, she cooked for him.

He returned to the kitchen, and she was busy putting the groceries away. She looked up and said, "Now you know."

"I have to go to Florida on Wednesday, but I'll be back."

"You're going home."

He had planned to go home just in time for Thanksgiving. "No, I'm staying with you."

Rory's camp was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. Taking care of Nonna was too important. He was her only relative. She was his last tie to his mother.

She wanted to protest but didn't. "Rest. I'm going upstairs to settle in."

He set up his laptop and scrolled through the collection of pictures he had taken of her. He loved capturing her cooking. The evidence was on the screen. He saw the decline in her weight since his first visit.

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