Love Her - Andrea Johnston Page 0,18
that high of a note. My ears are still ringing but her excitement is obvious, which instantly makes me happy.
“Chicken butt?” I can practically hear her eyes roll through the phone line.
“I’ll just ignore that and tell you, because you will never guess.”
“Then why are you asking me to guess? I’ve never understood that question. I mean, should I try? Maybe you won Lotto or found a million dollars on the porch.”
Mumbling a string of words not meant for my ears reminds me of being a kid and she would pray to the Lord for her son to not be such a dumbass. Unfortunately, most of those prayers went unanswered. Or ignored. Sometimes I think they were ignored so I had to learn my lessons the hard way.
“Meg is engaged!” Her shout leads to a cough and then another.
“Say what?” My baby sister cannot be engaged. She’s not even dating anyone. Or at least that’s what she tells me when I ask. Actually, I haven’t asked in months. Has it been that long since I’ve spoken to her? “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”
“You know your sister. Meg keeps things pretty close to the vest until she’s ready. I met him last week. Nice young man and obviously adores her.”
“I’ll be the one to decide that,” I grumble as I kick an empty box from the playset toward the pile of garbage.
Meg has always been a private person, not sharing plans or goals until a firm plan is in place. I suppose much of that is because by the time she was old enough to really set those goals, my mom was raising us alone and life was just different. We didn’t have a ton of money and the prospect of college and a career wasn’t guaranteed. An engagement isn’t the same. This is life-altering. Surely my mom is mistaken. Maybe she and this guy are discussing marriage in the future and not actually engaged.
“I’ll call her later and congratulate her.”
“Honey, be kind when you do. She’s happy with Alfred.”
Alfred. Well, if ever there was a name that screamed stability, that may be the one. Any concern I had, slowly dissipates as I promise to call my sister and be kind. When I disconnect the call, my mind is all over the place with what’s happening at home. Maybe I need to go back. I’m stronger than I give myself credit. Just because living there and running with a bad crowd was a slippery slope in my younger years doesn’t mean it will be now.
For the next half hour or so, I push through the discomfort from the heat and clean up the trash in the backyard. As soon as I break down the last box and toss it in the back of Taylor’s truck, he approaches from the backyard. Of course he waits until I finish. Knowing him, he was watching me from the window.
“I was just coming out to help you.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“Damn dude, you stink. Why don’t you go inside and shower while I fire up the grill?”
A shower sounds perfect. Turning my attention to him, I note the beer he’s offering and accept it. The cold liquid is a welcome relief as I down it in one pull. As I stand here, my hip and back begin to tighten, the first signs of the spasms to come hitting me hard. I need that shower for more than the stench I’m offering. I need to relax those muscles.
“What’s with that grimace? I just pulled these beers from the fridge; I know they’re cold.”
Shaking my head I reply, “It’s just my back. I probably pushed myself a little too much. Thank goodness I have PT tomorrow.”
“How long has it been hurting? What are you doing for the pain?”
“Whoa, Dad. Relax. I slacked off on PT for a bit and am paying for it. But, I’m back and Brian is kicking my ass in a way you’d approve. I just should have been mindful of how much I did today.”
Remorse skirts his face as he shoulders sag. He’s going to feel bad for asking me to help. I know my limits. I understand my injuries more than anyone. It doesn’t take much to undo all efforts of physical therapy when it comes to my back and hip. I’m here because I want to be. It has never been my intention to make Taylor, or anyone else, feel guilty for my choice to push myself. “I’m hitting the shower.