32 ~ Party Plans

I wake up the next morning to my cat kneading my stomach with his front paws and purring loudly. I smile at him, stroking his grey patched fur gently as Sam comes in.

“Good morning, Frodo,” he says, drawing back my curtains.

I rub my face, trying to wake up and ask, “How late did I sleep?”

“Not too late. It’s only ten-thirty, and Rosie an’ me just woke half an hour ago,” Sam replies, coming to sit by me on the bed. “Are you all right? You seemed a little shaken after telling the story last night.”

I nod in consent. “I was, but I’m fine now,” I lie. I don’t think fine is quite the word for it, but if it appeases my Sam, then…

Sam looks at me searchingly, and I force a laugh, saying, “You worry too much, love.”

He shrugs, then says, “Rosie’s makin’ something to eat to make up for missin’ both breakfasts. Come eat something,” he says, tossing me my clothes and heading out to the kitchen.

* * *

“I need to run to the market today,” Rose says as she stands at the stove, scrambling the last of our eggs.

“Why don’t I do that for you, love?” Sam says. “And Frodo can come with me.” He looks at me questioningly.

I nod in consent as Rosie passes each of us a plate of bacon, eggs and her famous biscuits, freshly baked.

“I’ll get you a list once I’m done eatin’,” she says smiling at us.

I notice she’s given me less food than she did Sam, and I smile at her, grateful that she recalled how small my appetite has been of late.

Shortly after we’ve finished, Sam and I are out the door with a list of things that encompass one whole sheet of paper.

“We could be a while,” I say, looking at the paper, then smiling at Sam.

As we head down the road, out of earshot of Bag End, Sam turns to me and says, “I need help, Frodo. It’s Rosie’s birthday in two days, and I haven’t got a clue what to make for her birthday dinner. She says she just wants her family, mine and you there. So I don’t have to cook too much, but I don’t know what I want to cook for her.”

I pause for a moment. “Well, you know we’ll need a cake” I think for another second. “And mushrooms are a must. But other than that, I’m not sure either. She does like that chicken pie you make, though, Sam.”

Sam’s face lights up. “You’re right! I’ll make her that, then!” He gives me a brief hug, then we continue down the road.

As we purchase the items on the list, and a little extra for Sam’s surprise for Rosie, begin to feel sad. I see all the love and effort put out by my Sam on her behalf, and I am happy for them. It makes me sad that I won’t be able to give that for a wife of my own.

I remember my Uncle Saradoc used to tell me when I was a child that it wasn’t the end of the world when I didn’t get what I wanted. But now I don’t have what I want, and it appears to be the ending of my world.

When we get back to the smial, only two hours after we set out, we find a note in Rosie’s still choppy handwriting that says,

Sam and Mr. Frodo, Mrs. Salvia Goodbody (Ellis’s Mum)

is in town so Marigold and me are at the Gamgee’s

having tea with her. She said to thank Mr. Frodo for teaching

her lad. I’ll be back ‘round three.

Love, Rosie

I smile at Sam. “Now we can hide the extra food before she returns,” I say hurrying to help him unload the bags and baskets.

I reach the bag with the mushrooms in it, and pull one out while Sam’s back is turned.

“You can eat that, just so long as you’re eatin’ somethin’,” he says, still not looking at me.

“How did you know?” I ask, taking a bite out of the mushroom as he turns to put the basket of bread away.

“I know you too well, Mr. Frodo,” he says with a grin, unknowingly adding my title to my name.

I smile softly. “I am glad of it. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t,” I reply quietly.

He shrugs, smiling back. “Just doin’ my job,” he says, turning back to his groceries.

I grin, then rush to help him with dinner details for Rose’s party.