Free Fractured ( Fractured #1) by Holleigh James Page A

shoulder and smiled at him.
    “Yeah, I guess.” Still, he wouldn’t look at me. I knew that chasing girls was mostly Bryan’s idea. Jimmy would rather have stayed with me.
    “Yo, Jimmy, You’re missing all the good plays,” Bryan called from the other room.
    “We shouldn’t have left you,” Jimmy said , before walking back into the living room.
    What could I say to that?
     
    ** *
     
    Monday morning, Dad practically inhaled his breakfast and placed his dirty cereal bowl in the sink.
    “You could have left it on the table. I would’ve cleaned it,” I said, walking into the kitchen.
    “You do so much around here, Mandy. It’s the least I can do.” He hesitated, and turned towards me. “I’m glad you’re talking to me again.”
    “I never stopped talking to you, Dad. We just don’t agree on certain issues.”
    He patted my hair and gave me the same look he used to when I was nine. Then he took a final sip of his coffee before placing the mug in the sink next to the bowl. “So, what do you have planned for today?”
    I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll go to the creek behind the Hanleys’ place. I can always find something to draw.”
    “All right. Say, I was thinking about what you said. Maybe you could help out a couple of days at the shop.” He scooped up his brown paper-bagged lunch and headed toward the front door. “I could pay you.”
    I felt a smile stretch across my face. “Really? That would be great!” I guess he did hear what I was saying.
    “Yeah, we can talk about it later, okay?”
    “Yes, yes. Of course. Thanks, Dad.”
    From where I stood in the kitchen , I saw him grab the handle on the front door. Just before he opened it, he turned to look at me. “Be careful today, okay?”
    “Dad. I’m always careful.” I gave him my best grin.
    He smiled back. “I know, but I have to say it.” He tugged the doorknob and walked out saying, “Tell Bryan he owes me three hours.”
    “I’ll tell him.”
    “Thanks.” And he was gone.
    Dillon appeared in the kitchen. I made him breakfast and got him off to school in our usual style. Mom was another story. I pulled her arms until she sat up in the bed. Her hair could have been home to a whole family of sparrows. She was in the same clothes as the day before.
    “Stay sitting up,” I commanded, and she listened until I left the room. Searching through her bathroom cabinets, I found a washcloth. I ran it under warm water before soaping it up. With a clean towel from the closet, I returned to her bed, where she had slumped over. I put the washcloth and towel on the bed, and pulled her up again.
    “Mom… Mom, I’m going to wash your face and help you change your clothes.” I wasn’t sure what her blank expression was registering. Her eyes closed when I put the washcloth to her face.
    ”Stop! What are you doing? Help! Help!” Her body twisted to break free, but I held her steady as I ran the washcloth over her body.
    “Mom, stop struggling.”
    “Get off!” she yelled. She swung a fist at my face. She missed at first, but connected with the second try and hit me in my jaw. I let go of her, and the counterbalance of her pull forced her back down on the bed. “Leave me alone. Get out of here!”
    I wouldn’t give up so easily. Trying to secure both of her wrists with one hand, I ran the cloth over the rest of her face, then her neck and her hands. The next battle was to lift her t-shirt over her head. After running the washcloth down her back and stomach, I took the towel and patted her dry. She fought me the whole time.
    When she was in clean clothes, I helped her down the stairs and sat her on the living room couch. Maybe a change of scenery would help.
    I turned on a talk show, hoping it would keep her entertained. I propped pillows up on either side of her to make sure she wouldn’t tip over. Although I was exhausted from the workout of getting her clean and dressed, I went into the kitchen. I stood at the sink and let the tears stream