Member-only story
Cycle of Reach: March
The last storm of the winter was giving the old place a good pounding. Storms didn’t used to scare Skip, but nothing was the same since the quake and now he didn’t care if his brothers called him a pussy, he wasn’t going out in that. Donny, Frank and Butch left, heading out to see what kind of trouble they could scare up. Skip went back to his book and read the same paragraph twice before giving up.
He picked up the telephone receiver and put it down twice. He walked back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, checking the rolled up towels tucked into the bottom of the window sills. He touched the cold glass. He hated how his legs still picked up false vibrations. Skip had been pinned under a fallen door jamb for most of that horrifying night, although once the EMTs found him, they got him out pretty quickly.
The phone rang, scaring him. He let it ring a couple of times before picking up the receiver like it was a snake. Marissa’s calming voice dropped him into the chair. She was so good about checking in on him, making sure he was ok. He didn’t think she was doing so great herself, but she never let on. Whoever her husband was, Skip hoped the guy knew how lucky he was.
She’d been the one to crouch next to him, stroking his hair and face, while her male counterparts heaved that door jamb off Skip.
