Page 7 of Summer Message

My dad was the first one that came in to check on me.“Are you okay?” He looks at my leg and yells for my mom to go next door for ice and some gauze.

“That step attacked me.” I laugh through the pain.

“Sorry, I didn’t check the steps to see if they’re dry rotted or not.”

“New steps onto the list.” I type it as I tell him. “This is a never-ending money pit.” Tears burn my eyes and I let them loose. My heart is pounding in my chest at the all of the thoughts of what is broken or breaking every day. Sweat is pouring down my forehead from the anxiety of not knowing if I’ll get everything done.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Look at me.” My dad lifts my chin. “Welcome to being a homeowner. Just be thankful that you have the means to fix it and we’re finding these things now instead of down the road.”

I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and get paint on my forehead. “I know I’m being a big baby, but it’s not even been forty-eight hours and everything is breaking! I’m going to be broke before I even get my first paycheck. I’m worried about how I’m going to survive.”

My mom comes in before my dad could give some words of advice. They patch me up. I’m a little sore, but the bleeding has stopped and the swelling has gone down.

“Let’s go get something to eat. There’s a nice restaurant down the street from the hardware store.” My mom smiles and I nod, using the paper towel she hands me to clean myself up.

“Should we change?” I ask sarcastically.

I hobble into the dining room to gather up clothes that don’t have paint on them, when I notice there are blinds in the dining room and it’s freshly painted. It will need another coat, but this light shade of yellow is perfect. I wasn’t too keen on my mom choosing this color, but now I see her artistic eye. The color and the fact one room was almost done perk me up a little.

I change quickly and do a fast bath in the sink so we can go eat. I’m starving.

4

Matthew

I finally get home a little after noon, and decide to sleep this headache away. I take off my bloody clothes and put on my boxers to crash. Grabbing my phone, I send a text to Kristina. We have a nice chat, but now I’m fighting to keep my eyes open.

I wake up to loud voices coming from downstairs. Al is trying to calm someone down and I think I know who it is. I try to shove the pillow over my head to muffle out the voices but it’s not working. I glance at the clock and see it’s one thirteen. I’ve only slept a little over an hour. I groan getting up. My head is killing me. I wince as I touch my forehead where the stitches are.

I head downstairs to see my mother standing there with her hands on her hips.”Mother.”

She gasps.”Oh my God. When I got the call from the hospital that you were needing blood, I booked the first flight out here.”

My mom is hugging me, squeezing me a little tighter than I’d like right now. She’s kissing my face where the bruising is forming like she did whenever one of us kids would get hurt. Mom liked to kiss the booboo away.

“What happened? You look like you were in a fight. Are you doing that underground illegal fighting that I read in my books?”My mom is giving me themomlook with one eyebrow lifted.

I can’t help but chuckle at what goes on in her mind.

“No. My leg went numb then I fell. I smacked my head on the end table. I lost a lot of blood from the cut on my forehead. They told me head wounds bleed a lot like that. I’m fine, honestly. I have a follow up visit with a new primary doctor and an orthopedist.”

“Your leg went numb? How is it now?” My mom bends down to touch my leg. She’s overreacting, as usual.

I let her do her thing, glad I’m wearing shorts so she didn’t have me drop my pants. “I’m sore and my leg feels like it's asleep. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just a pinched nerve. I’m not worried about it. I’m being careful.”

“You had me so scared.”

I pull my mom into a hug and she sniffles.“I’m sorry. I should’ve called you to let you know that I’m okay. I didn’t realize they called you.”

“I’m your mother, of course they did. Apparently, you mumbled to call your mom.”

My face heats up. I guess I still need my mom when I’m sick.

“Why don’t I go to the store and make you boys some lasagna? I'm here for a few days anyway.” My mom moves her suitcase from in front of the door and I notice that it’s her big suitcase she usually packs to the full fifty pounds for the airplane.

Al kisses her cheek. “Sounds good Mrs. C.” She bats at Al’s shoulder as he steps away from her.

“If you need me to, I can do the running. Make a list for me while I grab a shower.” Al takes the steps two at a time.

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