Page 7 of Downpour

My future sister-in-law was the only person I could stand at the moment, but only because she was the only one who left me alone.

Nate tried again, his voice a mix of patience and exasperation. “I know it’s not ideal?—“

Ideal? Did they really think I enjoyed being waited on hand and foot?

“—but either you let us help you, or you stop firing the people who are hired to help you,” he finished, making their terms clear.

I pulled the lever on my chair and rolled into the bedroom. “Send someone else out here and see what happens.”

ONE DAY AFTER THAT

“I quit.Never in my life have I been subjected to someone as rude and mean and?—”

I slammed the door before the guy could finish his sentence.

Good riddance.

ONE YEAR AND FOUR MONTHS AFTER THE ACCIDENT

“Raymond Tyler Griffith!You didnotchange the locks on your doors.”

My mother’s furious shouts carried through the windowpane. No doubt, she had stormed down from her place after another home health aide failed to get in with the spare key.

At least the blinds were closed.

I stared at the kitchen ceiling as the cool floor tiles bit into my back. Sharp pain lanced through my hips and neck.

My wheelchair was toppled over a few feet away, surrounded by a mess of shattered glass. The steady stream from the tap was now joined by trickles of water cascading off the counter and onto the slowly flooding floor.

Lucky for me, Momma couldn’t see me like this.

Not so lucky for me, I was stranded on the floor until I figured out how to get up.

1

BROOKE

Istretched out in my crisp, cool sheets as sunlight leaked through the blinds. Was there anything better than waking up in freshly washed bedding? I could already tell it was going to be a great day.

The window air conditioner rattled like maracas. The pair of googly eyes I had attached to it jiggled with every heave. Poor thing was dying in this sweltering June heat.

“You’re doing great, little guy.” I patted its rusted metal case. “Just keep going.”

I shimmied into a relatively clean pair of shorts I found dangling off the bed frame. One flip-flop peeked out from under the bed, and I found the other on top of my dresser.

Bounding down the stairs, I greeted the sprawled-out figures on the couches on my way across the room.

Nick, the roommate who had lived here the longest out of all of us, lifted his head from the faded recliner. “Rent’s due, Stacey.”

“Really?” I laughed nervously and pawed through my pantry shelf. “I could have sworn I gave you money already.”

I grabbed a box of granola bars with my name on it and opened it up.Empty. Maybe one of my roommates got hungry and didn’t have anything else? That was alright. I’d just have oatmeal.

Nope, that box was empty too.

“Hey, do you know if someone ate my food?” I asked.

A familiar blue and white wrapper was on Nick’s lap. “Dunno,” he grunted as he chased his bite with a swig of beer.

---