"Okay Mom, well you take care of yourself." It was the best she could do in the panic of the moment as she hung up the receiver saying goodbye. She ran a finger under her eye to wipe away the tears and gave Sam a half smile.
"She's fine." Ginger replied nonchalantly. She stood up from the telephone seat, avoiding eye contact and made her way over to the bar to pour herself a drink, brushing past Sam.
As she poured the drink, her back was to her husband. "Her meds aren't doing their job very well, by the sound of it."
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He gestured to Ginger with a finger and thumb to both ear and mouth, miming the question "who's on the phone?"
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"Is she ok?" Sam sipped calmly from his glass of bourbon. "Are you ok?" He stood and waited for her response.
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As she poured the drink, her back was to her husband. "Her meds aren't doing their job very well, by the sound of it."
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