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"My attorney might get angry at me for signing anything without his approval," I suggested as quietly as I could.

"Oh, for God's sakes,' she cried snatching the document out of my hand. "It's a boilerplate document, a standard power of attorney giving me the right to sign papers for us both. I'll have your attorney," she said out of the corner of her mouth, "review it and then you can sign it and feel safe from the claws of the big bad aunt."

"You wouldn't sign anything without your attorney, would you?" I charged.

She stared at me.

"No," she admitted. "But I also wouldn't look a gift horse in the mo

uth. If I had an aunt like me, responsible, dedicated, concerned, watching over my property. I wouldn't be so uncooperative either."

"I don't mean to seem ungrateful. This is all just too much for me," I admitted.

She nodded.

"Yes, you are your mother's daughter. Megan was never ashamed to confess her weaknesses."

"I'm not confessing weaknesses," I cried. She could be so infuriating, making me feel like a twisted rubber band.

"Whatever." she said standing and flicking her hand in my direction as if I were a mere fly. "I have a lot to do. I was hoping you would help make it easier for me. but I'll just plod on and get through it all. as I have always done. I'll be back as soon as I can," she added as she walked toward the door. She paused there with her back to me for a long moment as if she was deciding whether or not she should tell me something. Finally, she turned.

"There is one more thing:" she said. "I nearly forgot or. rather. I didn't want to create any more problems at the moment"

"What is it?" I asked in a tired voice. "It concerns your stepbrother Roy."

"What? What about him?"

"Oh well. I suppose you've got a right to know everything that concerns you, whether you're in a wheelchair or not."

She opened her briefcase again and sifted through some papers, making me wait anxiously.

"My mother's name was on the envelope so they just forwarded it to me without noticing your name written after ATTENTION. My secretary tore it open and put it on my desk as she does with every piece of correspondence. Where did I put... oh, here it is."

She held it up.

"It's from his army attorney on his behalf, informing you that he has been courtmartialed for violating a probation period."

"What? What probation period?"

"I'm sure I don't know the details," she said.

She handed me the paper. I read it quickly, my right hand at the base of my throat, my breath trapped right at the spot. Roy had tried to run away from the army and had been caught and placed under arrest.

"Oh no." I moaned. "He probably did this after he found out about me. I shouldn't have written to him and told him about the accident."

"No. Maybe not. Maybe if you had asked my advice, I would have made some other suggestions. Just like Megan." she repeated shaking her head. "acting impulsively. Always take a step back before deciding on something, no matter what." she lectured. She shook her head and then closed her briefcase sharply. "I have to go."

She turned and left me there, holding the terrible paper in my hands, wondering when I would stop hurting the people I loved.

Fortunately for me, Austin surprised me. Maybe it was because he had called and Mrs. Bogart told him I couldn't eat a thing at dinner that he decided to come over again. After learning about Roy, just the thought of food made my stomach tighten like a fist. Finally. I had turned from the table and wheeled myself from the table. Mrs. Bogart's orders, threats and warnings falling away. At first I was going to just go to sleep, but my frustration and anger had built to a point of exploding. It was twilight and still quite warm outside. I went to the front door, opened it and wheeled myself out.

"Where do you think you're going this time of the day, girl?" she demanded.

"Just outside for a while. I want to be alone," I emphasized and shut the door on her. I rolled myself down the ramp and then turned and went over the driveway toward the lake. I stopped at the foot of the path and gazed down at the water and thought about Roy, locked up again in some military prison, almost as frustrated as I was because he was trapped. too.

Of course. I should have realized he would have done something like that. I told myself. What was I thinking when I wrote that letter? Didn't I know him well enough to realize he would think only about getting to me, consider that more important than anything else? He always thought about me first and put me ahead of himself.

I should have thought about him first and not been so anxious to let everyone know my tragedy. I was just looking for sympathy. It was my fault, all my fault. I hated what happened to me. I hated being in this chair. I wished it was years back and I was still living in the projects. We used to think it was so terrible, but we were better off. I'd trade a hundred big houses and a hundred fancy cars and all this money if I could get up and walk away.