Acceptance

[ANDREW]

"Finished," I sighed, clicking the save button. If I continued at this pace, I would be done in the next few months.

"What do you think?" I asked my greyhound, Roxanne settled down beside my wheelchair. She then sat up, barking in approval as she wagged her tail. Giving her a pet, I proceeded to shut down my laptop.

I got up pushing my wheelchair aside, I could deal without it most of the time. I was an arthritis sufferer, not crippled. Stretching my hands out over my head I wondered what I'd eat for lunch.

Rice, with a little sauce... no that'll surpass my calorie limit... fruit salad? I thought, walking out the study, Roxanne hot on my trail. Walking into the kitchen, I took in the morning song of the birds outside through the window. I turned to open the fridge only to bump into Roxanne.

"Damn," I muttered, feeling the burn on my ankles. The kitchen was smallish and just enough for me and Roxanne to get around, but that was okay. My cabin had everything I needed to write and stay alive. There was a supply store down in town. I had my solitude and I had Roxanne.

I'd moved here about two years ago from D.C. I had grown tired of the action-filled life that my sore bones couldn't keep up with.

Or was it him?

I ignored my thoughts and instead fished out some leftover frozen salad and some dog Keble from the above cabinet. I moved to the counters to warm up the cold salad in a pot since I didn't have a microwave.

Is it so hard to admit you're running away?

I'm not running away from anybody, I'm not running away from anything. I mean. why would I? My royalty checks were getting better each week, I had the peace and quiet I've always craved. I tried to convince myself as I dropped the salad container into the pot filled with a cup of water.

"You don't get out enough, come back home..."

I frowned, remembering my mom's words from her call last week. What did she mean? I get out enough. I see enough people when I went to town for supplies. I even offered to relieve the Literature professors sometimes in the local universities by taking some classes.

I sighed, placing Roxanne's bowl of Keble on the floor. I watched her eat for a while before turning back to my salad. I knew I should be eating more, but I didn't want to be the guy that gained back all his weight. It was bad enough that I was as plain-looking as they got.

My ears perked up and Roxanne barked at the sound of the living room landline ringing. I sighed, turning off the heat of the stove. Taking a hand towel, I wiped my hand before heading out the kitchen door.

"Hello?" I muttered into the phone, not bothering to check the number.

"Drew!"

Oh no... I thought, bringing my free hand to my forehead.

"Drew? Speak to your Uncle, won't you..."

"What do you want?" I asked in a frustrated voice. I don't like my uncle. He's a thorn in the neck and an even worse one when he wanted something. He was about to get married to his fiancée, she's going to be his sixth if I counted correctly.