My Sister's Prayer by Mindy Starns Clark Read Free Book Online

chance you could come to my place?” I asked, explaining the situation. I was relieved when she said yes, though she declined my offer to stay for dinner. We chose six p.m. and concluded the call.
    Phone in hand, I headed back upstairs, encouraged by this latest development and glad that my sister and I would have a project to work on after all, common ground that would perhaps not just help us to bond, but also heal some of those wounds from the past.

    â€œI think this’ll be good for you,” my supervisor said the next day when I told her I’d be moving Nicole in with me this weekend. “It’ll force you to be more flexible.”
    â€œI’m flexible,” I replied, trying not to sound offended. We were in Debra’s office, a space so perpetually overfilled with books and papers that it gave me anxiety just to step inside. Debra herself, however, was a lovely person, and I respected her opinion. A single mom in her early forties, she had a no-nonsense demeanor and a look to match, her brown hair cut in a neat bob, her clothes mostly solids with simple lines, her shoes stylish if vaguely orthopedic.
    She rolled her eyes. “Maddee, your filing cabinet is alphabetized, color-coded, and recorded on a separate file you keep on your laptop.”
    â€œI’m sure a lot of people do that—”
    â€œYou rearrange your coworkers’ lunches in the break room fridge.”
    â€œWell, it looks better when all of the coolers are on one shelf and the bagged lunches on another.”
    She watched me through narrow eyes until I gave a sheepish grin. “All right, I’ll give you that one.”
    â€œYour sister is recovering both physically and mentally. Her medical needs won’t runon a schedule. You won’t know what to expect or what might come up. That’s a good thing. Like I said, it’ll teach you flexibility.”
    â€œYeah, well, that’s Nicole,” I replied. “Bringing chaos to my order.”
    She smiled. “And in return, maybe now you can bring some order to her chaos.”
    Order to her chaos.
    The words had a nice ring and stayed with me the rest of the morning.

    At a quarter of four I unchained my bicycle and helmet from the U-rack outside and headed for the doctor’s office on East Marshall. It was near the hospital, less than a mile away, but suddenly I realized that between here and there was a steep hill I would have to climb. My new bike was nothing fancy, an inexpensive women’s seven-speed I had chosen primarily because of its oversized chain guard to protect my good slacks and its color of robin’s egg blue with tan accents. Whether it had the ability to tackle this mini mountain, I hadn’t a clue.
    A good thirteen minutes later I finally made it, though I was breathless and sweaty and completely disheveled as I locked up my bike and helmet and strode toward the building. For once I didn’t even bother with primping because I knew it would take a lot more to fix this mess than a quick peek at my reflection in a glass door. With only two minutes to spare I fought dueling inclinations: be on time but messy or be late but look good? I prided myself on both punctuality and polish, but because I was trying to scale back on the latter, I went with the former. Walking quickly past the women’s restroom, I headed straight for the elevator and took it to the third floor. I then made my way down the hall to the door marked River City Orthopedics, Austin Hill, MD. Stepping inside, I reached the desk at four o’clock on the dot.
    As I was checked in, a part of me hoped the doctor was running late so I could make a quick visit to a mirror first, but the nurse waved me around the desk and led me down the hall to a corner office. The roomwas empty at the moment, but she told me to have a seat and that Dr. Hill would be right with me.
    She wasn’t exaggerating. Before I could even dig a pocket mirror from my