Swamped

"Well, even in my younger days, I'm not sure I could have handled those bags very well. Not just the size, a few of them were frozen together." You actually remember the pair of them pulling two apart - it wasn't very difficult with both of them there, but it would have been challenging for just one. "Of course, I have worked a little with ice bags, so I know a trick or two for getting them unstuck. Tapping them a little in the right places so they warm up slightly helps a lot. But it's not obvious, hardly surprised Monty didn't try."

"Uh, yeah," Monty says, sounding embarrassed. "Thanks for the pointers."

"I'm always happy to help out where I can. At my age, you start to appreciate the moments when you can learn something. They don't come that often, unless you go out of your way to walk a new path. And most people just don't have the spirit for that sort of life."

Patterson doesn't seem entirely satisfied, but she also doesn't seem up for arguing the point. She grabs the wine.

"Let's go."

"Is it all right if I bring my food with me?"

"I need your hands on the wheelbarrow, Monty."

"Right. Of course."

"My hands are free. I could carry the plate," you say.

"No need, we're just going across the street." But then she glances at Monty. "Then again, with how this one's so protective of their sandwiches, suppose we might as well keep 'em from getting snatched."

You pick up the plate and follow the others out, across the street, and towards the hospital. Monty knocks on the door, and the nurse you met before soon steps out and starts ushering you all in. Including you, still holding the plate of sandwiches.

Just as you head through the doors, though, you catch a glimpse of something.