whispered to Linc back inside the room.
He shrugged. “I guess so. You know Dad.”
Yeah, I did.
When my dad came back in, all he said was,”Take your grandma home and get some sleep.”
I opened my mouth to argue but his glare stopped me. I kissed Linc on the forehead and stalked out of the room, Grandma at my heels. Truth was, I didn’t appreciate my dad’s intrusion. He was never around, he was never involved. He crawled into a shell when mom died and never came out, not even when Grandma started going downhill and we started having to take care of her instead of the other way around.
“He’ll be gone in a few days,” I muttered to myself.
Walking out of the hospital, I started to feel sick. My happiness was being sabotaged with questions I didn’t have the answers too. Was he really going to be okay? Where had he been? I looked down, realizing I had been fiddling with my bracelets while walking and had to swallow back bile. It wasn’t possible some dream guy had brought my brother back from the dead and now had some type of claim on me. I vowed to find the bolt cutters as soon as we got back home then ran to catch up with Grandma.
It took me three attempts to safely back out of parking spot without hitting the cars that had evilly parked next to and behind me. I could feel Grandma eyeing me and ignored her best I could. When we safely got onto the highway, she finally spoke up.
“What will we tell everyone?” she asked.
I groaned. That question hadn’t occurred to me yet. “I don’t know, Grandma.”
I was exhausted by the time we finally got back home and parked the truck practically in the middle of the front yard. I offered to make Grandma breakfast but she ignored me, choosing to curl up in her armchair. The couch was tempting but first I had to the search the garage.
The bolt cutters were on the shelf above Dad’s workbench. With one of the elongated handles pinned beneath my knee and the other resting against my shoulder, I carefully placed the delicate bangle in the sharp beak of the tool. The tight fit of the bracelet wedged the points into my wrist and I swallowed hard before I carefully brought the one handle down. The bracelet was caught and pinched ... and nothing. I shoved the handles together harder and still nothing. With the leverage from my upper body I could crank the handles together almost a foot closer but the bracelet stayed intact. Frowning, I sat back, wiped the sweat off my face and inspected the bracelet. Not even a scratch. I experimentally clicked the handles together in the air and the little metal beak snapped together like it should have. A thin piece of chain snaking out of one of the workbench drawers was clipped like a piece of overcooked spaghetti. So I knelt back onto the garage floor but placed the other bracelet in harm’s way.
I heaved and pushed on the handles more desperately as I started to realize what shouldn’t have been possible. The bracelets were real, I really got them in a dream and they really weren’t coming off. With a final, panicky attempt, I snapped the handle down as hard as I could. It sprung out of my hand and skittered away on the garage floor. I saw the blood before I felt the pain.
It oozed steadily from my wrist and I grabbed a dirty shop towel to press to it rather than let a drop drip to the floor of my dad’s garage. His garage was sacred; he even laid down card board when working on any of the cars.
Despite not being very large or deep, the cut wouldn’t stop bleeding. With the towel wrapped around my wrist, I sat down on the couch to time myself for ten minutes of applying pressure.
Grandma’s gentle snores had me almost asleep when my dad banged in the door.
Chapter 5
HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING, JUST came in and turned on the news. The forecast showed perfect autumn weather for the coming week then switched back to the newscasters. “An incredible story we’re working on here tonight,” the man
He shrugged. “I guess so. You know Dad.”
Yeah, I did.
When my dad came back in, all he said was,”Take your grandma home and get some sleep.”
I opened my mouth to argue but his glare stopped me. I kissed Linc on the forehead and stalked out of the room, Grandma at my heels. Truth was, I didn’t appreciate my dad’s intrusion. He was never around, he was never involved. He crawled into a shell when mom died and never came out, not even when Grandma started going downhill and we started having to take care of her instead of the other way around.
“He’ll be gone in a few days,” I muttered to myself.
Walking out of the hospital, I started to feel sick. My happiness was being sabotaged with questions I didn’t have the answers too. Was he really going to be okay? Where had he been? I looked down, realizing I had been fiddling with my bracelets while walking and had to swallow back bile. It wasn’t possible some dream guy had brought my brother back from the dead and now had some type of claim on me. I vowed to find the bolt cutters as soon as we got back home then ran to catch up with Grandma.
It took me three attempts to safely back out of parking spot without hitting the cars that had evilly parked next to and behind me. I could feel Grandma eyeing me and ignored her best I could. When we safely got onto the highway, she finally spoke up.
“What will we tell everyone?” she asked.
I groaned. That question hadn’t occurred to me yet. “I don’t know, Grandma.”
I was exhausted by the time we finally got back home and parked the truck practically in the middle of the front yard. I offered to make Grandma breakfast but she ignored me, choosing to curl up in her armchair. The couch was tempting but first I had to the search the garage.
The bolt cutters were on the shelf above Dad’s workbench. With one of the elongated handles pinned beneath my knee and the other resting against my shoulder, I carefully placed the delicate bangle in the sharp beak of the tool. The tight fit of the bracelet wedged the points into my wrist and I swallowed hard before I carefully brought the one handle down. The bracelet was caught and pinched ... and nothing. I shoved the handles together harder and still nothing. With the leverage from my upper body I could crank the handles together almost a foot closer but the bracelet stayed intact. Frowning, I sat back, wiped the sweat off my face and inspected the bracelet. Not even a scratch. I experimentally clicked the handles together in the air and the little metal beak snapped together like it should have. A thin piece of chain snaking out of one of the workbench drawers was clipped like a piece of overcooked spaghetti. So I knelt back onto the garage floor but placed the other bracelet in harm’s way.
I heaved and pushed on the handles more desperately as I started to realize what shouldn’t have been possible. The bracelets were real, I really got them in a dream and they really weren’t coming off. With a final, panicky attempt, I snapped the handle down as hard as I could. It sprung out of my hand and skittered away on the garage floor. I saw the blood before I felt the pain.
It oozed steadily from my wrist and I grabbed a dirty shop towel to press to it rather than let a drop drip to the floor of my dad’s garage. His garage was sacred; he even laid down card board when working on any of the cars.
Despite not being very large or deep, the cut wouldn’t stop bleeding. With the towel wrapped around my wrist, I sat down on the couch to time myself for ten minutes of applying pressure.
Grandma’s gentle snores had me almost asleep when my dad banged in the door.
Chapter 5
HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING, JUST came in and turned on the news. The forecast showed perfect autumn weather for the coming week then switched back to the newscasters. “An incredible story we’re working on here tonight,” the man
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