Page 25 of Holding On

"He's still using a wheelchair?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone I told you that. Ethan asked me to keep his personal life private. Not that I'd go around spreading gossip about him."

"So what's he like?"

"At first he was rude. He was mad that I showed up instead of Lois. She's one of the other cleaning ladies. She had to go to Texas to take care of her mom, which is why I got sent over there."

"And then what happened?"

"I started to leave but he asked me to stay, saying the place needed to be cleaned."

"And did he talk to you while you cleaned?"

"A little. That's when he was being nice. Then he got a phone call from his dad, and when he hung up, he was back to being rude. I can't figure him out."

"He must've had a fight with his dad."

"He didn't have to take it out on me."

Mike raises his brows. "And when you're mad at mom, you don't take your anger out on me?"

I huff. "No. First of all, I never talk to mom, and second, I hardly ever get mad at you."

"You can be mad at her without talking to her. And yes, you do take it out on me." He grins. "But I can handle it. If I can handle war, I can handle you."

I roll my eyes. "Anyway, I think next time I'll just ignore him. I'm there to clean, not to talk."

"He could probably use someone to talk to if he's stuck in that house all day. Does he go out much?"

"I don't know. He can't drive and his friends are probably home on summer break so I'm guessing he spends most of his time in that house."

"Sounds lonely."

"Yeah. I guess it would be."

Mike's focus returns to his laptop while I think about what he said. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on Ethan. It makes sense that he's cranky. He has no one to talk to. He doesn't go out. He doesn't get along with his dad. And his football career might be over.

***

On Saturday, I sleep late, have lunch, then spend the afternoon on our tiny patio, soaking up the sun. I have the day off and all I want to do is kick back and relax. Mike's working on his podcast so I'm staying outside to give him privacy. I've got my music, a tall glass of lemonade, and I'm laid out on the lounger. I don't need fireworks. To me, doing nothing is a great Fourth of July.

At five, Mike fires up the grill and makes burgers while I set out potato chips and heat up some baked beans. It's not much of a holiday cookout but it's better than nothing.

"What's Ethan doing tonight?" Mike asks as we're eating.

"I don't know. Probably watching sports. Why?"

"Just wondered." He pops some potato chips in his mouth, his eyes on me as chomps away.

"What? Just say it. I know you're thinking something."

"Nope. I'm just having dinner." He smiles as he grabs another handful of chips.

I know what he's thinking; that Ethan is probably spending the holiday by himself. I've been thinking about that too, imagining him stuck on the couch, bored, watching TV. But it's not my job to entertain him. I barely know the guy.

"What do you expect me to do?" I ask. "Go over there and hang out?"

Mike shrugs. "Bring him a burger. We have extra and you said he didn't have any food in the fridge."

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