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THE FISHER SUMMER home was her favorite place in the world. It was different from her home back in San Antonio. She could smell the Atlantic Ocean outside the car window, blowing into her face.
Abigail Parker stuck her head out the window of her brother's truck, screaming along to an old KISS cd he'd brought along.
Their mother was singing along with them, tripping over the words. Diane Parker was a beautiful woman, as told to Abigail by her many nurses and doctors and classmates over the years.
Diane used her thighs as drums. Clay tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs. Parker Karaoke was one of Abigail's favorite parts of summer. No matter if it was a four minute ride or a twelve hour one, the rule was to play music. She adored it.
"I WAS MADE FOR LOVING YOU BABY," Clay yelled, bobbing his head back and forth. They stopped at a light and he pretended to play an air guitar. "YOU WERE MADE FOR LOVING MEE—"
"Never try out for American Idol," Abigail laughed. She played with her finger splints, little metal rings around her fingers. They were cool, and helped with her lupus. "It hurts my ears to hear you try and hit that note."
Clay scoffed. "I am a talented singer, Miss Abby. You just don't see my vision." Diane ruffled her eldest son's hair. "Oh come on, Ma. Not you too."
"Sorry, baby. But your sister has an excellent point. Never try out for a singing show. That ain't your speciality." Clay pouted, focusing his attention back on the road.
The comforting familiarity of Main Street comforted the aching in her bones. She was back home. No more worries about doctors poking at her, no more pitiful stares, no more sickness.
She was free from the restraints that was San Antonio.
Pulling into the familiar drive way of the Fisher summer home made her smile. Abigail instantly tucked her phone in the back—pocket of her shorts. She practically jumped out of the front seat as Clay parked the car. She could see the Conklins and the Fishers embracing.
Abigail had waited a whole year for this. (And also spring break. She hoped a lot during spring break.)
Belly Conklin ran toward her the minute her door opened. The youngest Conklin wrapped her in a bear hug, vibrating with excitement. "Abby!" Belly was her little sister. She was her favorite person in the entire world. She was sweet and caring and genuine. "I'm so happy your here. I was going to go insane. They were gonna try and throw me in the pool again."
"Oh, Bels," Abigail said, her hand on Belly's cheek. It was soft underneath Abigail's finger tips. "I'll be here to protect you."
