Sister Mother

Chapter 32

June 5th

Addie's secret Leo notebook

Lee,

I have 3 goals for my 24th birthday.

· Cry for Mom and Dad. It's my second birthday without them so I need to talk to them and tell them that even though I haven't cried in two days, I miss them and wish they were here.

· Have cupcakes for breakfast with Gabe and Bea. Each cost $10, but they're jumbo chocolate cupcakes. I deserve a jumbo chocolate cupcake for my birthday.

· Call you. Things are better. I'm going to call you and make plans with you for tomorrow. I've got big plans. I've set aside some money for some new lingerie that I'll buy tomorrow morning. Beatrice cut my hair a few days ago. I'll call you today, and we'll make plans.

We will have sex, so please bring your penis and some condoms!

-Adds

⫷👁⫸

Addie

I completed my first goal before I sat up that morning. My face was stained with tears before I remembered that it was my birthday. I'd tossed and turned all night thinking about Mom and Dad. I cried for over a half hour.

Gabe came down and helped me complete goal two. He brought the cupcakes over as Beatrice hopped downstairs, carrying my yellow V-neck blouse and black miniskirt. The three of us ate our breakfast birthday cupcakes. Beatrice pushed me into the bathroom and helped me get dressed.

I didn't need her help or want it, but she acted like we were on the clock. She pulled my shirt over my head and threw my gray Leo bra at me.

"Beatrice, I—"

"No talking. Get changed and I'll do your hair and make-up."

"Why?"

"Because you need to look good for your birthday."

"But—"

"Hurry up!"

Getting dressed without putting any weight on my legs took forever. I had press my wrists firmly against the chair, lift myself while leaning towards one side and single-handedly pull my pajama shorts down. It was a slow, tiring and painful process, one that would become even harder once I my surgery was in the past.

We finally got the life insurance last week. I don't want to talk numbers but—

Whoa. Six figures. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

I slid my skirt up and scooted it over my hips. I clasped my bra, threw my blouse over my head and brushed my teeth. If it weren't for the remodel my parents had paid for ten years ago, living downstairs wouldn't have been possible. There was a walk-in (or, drive-in) shower that I could park my wheelchair in, transfer onto the stool and push my wheelchair out.

"Thanks guys," I whispered after rinsing my mouth. "Maybe by the time I'm thirty, I'll be as proactive as you guys were. Love you." Tears. Again. I wiped them off my cheeks and smiled before I opened the door. "Okay, so I took the day off work. I haven't done that since the funeral. I'm thinking—"

"Get back in there." Beatrice pointed back into the bathroom. "You have to wear makeup today."

"But we're not going anywhere."

"Doesn't matter. You need to look nice." Beatrice pushed my chair into the bathroom and knelt down. She put some lipstick and blush on me.

"Beatrice, I really don't—"