“It’s all right, Dinah. I can skate there.”
She actually stopped walking to frown at him.
After an uncomfortable silence, Charlie gave a shrug. “Or you can give me a ride. That works too. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She ambled up the walkway to her front door.
Charlie looked over his shoulder at me, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, mouth drawn in a line.
“That was, like, so rude,” I said as I painstakingly made my way across the driveway. “How dare you suggest you can do something on your own?”
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he slowed his pace to walk beside me. “I didn’t want her to go out of her way.”
“And being alone with her would be awkward.”
“As hell.”
I stifled a laugh unsuccessfully.
Once inside, I gawked at the motorized stair lift that had been installed along the railing of Aunt Dinah’s staircase. “I know that ain’t for me.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t for me,” the old woman said with a sniff. “Both of my knees work perfectly fine.”
Charlie and I exchanged smothered smiles before I regained my indignation.
“Can’t I just sleep on the couch?” I asked, nodding at the opening of the sitting room through which I could clearly see her plastic-covered couches. I doubted anyone had ever sat in them, but I was willing to be the first if it meant never having to sit in the damn stair chair.
My aunt placed her keys and coin purse on the side table in the foyer before drawing herself up to her full height. “The sitting room is not meant for sleep and study, Esmeralda. It’s meant for entertaining.”
“And watching soap operas,” I told Charlie out of the corner of my mouth.
Aunt Dinah pointed a bony finger at the stair lift. “This will get you upstairs where you will stay until it’s time for your biweekly physical therapy sessions. I will bring you your meals. Charles will bring you your homework. You’ll have everything you need.” She crossed her arms. “You have nothing to complain about. We’re basically waiting on you hand and foot.”
“Basically,” Charlie said, depositing his backpack and skateboard by the front door.
I rolled my eyes at him. The guy was trying way too hard to get back in her good graces.
“Thank you, Charles.” Aunt Dinah gave me a pointed look. “Into the chair now, Esmeralda.”
With a tortured groan, I hobbled over to the foot of the stairs. “Don’t watch, Charlie boy. At least let me keep my dignity.”
“Stop being melodramatic,” my aunt snapped even as Charlie started to turn around.
He paused, his gaze darting between me and the old lady. He settled for facing me while keeping his eyes lowered.
I shuffled in an awkward circle until my back was to the chair. Then I slowly sat and balanced the crutches across my lap. Aunt Dinah came over to position my cast in the special foot rest. Then she strapped me in and pressed the glowing arrow pointing up. A pitiful whirring sound announced the movement of the chair. Step by slow, agonizing step, I was lifted up the stairs. Charlie was still looking down, but his face was turning red from the effort it took him not to smile. My aunt walked beside me, keeping pace with embarrassing ease.
“Can’t this thing go any faster?” I finally hissed.
“Sit tight and keep quiet. You’re almost at the top,” was the snippy response.
I drummed my fingers against my crutches and glared at her the entire time. At long last, the chair lift stopped. Aunt Dinah unstrapped me, took the crutches and set them aside, and then offered me her hands.
Charlie scrambled up the stairs. “Shouldn’t I do that?”
“You won’t always be here, Charles. I have to be able to do this myself.” Aunt Dinah stared at me, lips bunched to the side, until I took her hands.
“Your stubbornness ain’t gonna get you nothing but a slipped disc,” I muttered as she hauled me to my feet.
She gave a little grunt and a grimace, but then she was straightening up. She snatched my crutches from their place against the wall and pressed them into my chest as if to say, “So there!”
“Congrats. You’re an inspiration to little old ladies everywhere,” I grumbled, limping down the hall. The hardwood squeaked under my crutches. I couldn’t believe it but I’d actually missed that sound. And the musty old-lady smell that followed me down the hall. The low hum of a Roomba inching along the wood made me stop in my tracks.
“What is that?” I asked with a grin.
Aunt Dinah brushed past me to open my bedroom door. “With you gone, I had to make adjustments.”
“You bought a machine?” I pictured her standing at the counter at the nearest Best Buy, growling at the young man on the other side who would no doubt try to teach her how to work the thing. She would snatch it out of his hands and probably say she was “perfectly capable” of reading the instructions herself, thank you very much. I laughed.
Aunt Dinah gave an impatient huff and stepped away from my door. “I’m not completely above reason. I know how helpful these contraptions can be when used properly. I’d just rather not have to deal with them, is all.” She wagged a finger at me. “Don’t get used to it. It’s going into my closet the moment you’re well enough to continue doing chores.”
“Of course,” I said with a shrug. “You only spent five hundred plus dollars on it. Why wouldn’t you shove it into a closet the first chance you get?” I limped into my room, her loud and irritated sigh trailing after me.
Standing by the single bed mattress, I found myself smiling. The room wasn’t much bigger than my hospital room had been but it was quiet, private. Mine. I carefully pivoted and eased myself down over the comforter. Everything was how I’d left it the morning I’d
