A Crippled Love

The One With The Ridiculousness

      

        What did Mr. Ed mean by 'he treats you like a saint compared to them?' I swear, everyone in that house is a nutcase. Mr. Volkolv did not treat me like a saint. If the way he treated me was nice, then how did he treat his other caretakers?

     I decided that I wouldn't think much of it, but I would try to be more patient with him, which means no more peppers or pressuring him. Instead, I would be strictly his caretaker, that's all. No interfering with his personal stuff.

     But damn it, I was his caretaker. Didn't that mean that I had to make sure he was fine all the time? I was hoping that the silly pepper prank would ease the tension between us, that maybe we could laugh about it later. 

        But of course, he had to be allergic to peppers. What was I thinking? Even if he wasn't allergic, he would still be mad anyways. He was Mr. Volkolv.

        With a tired sigh, I climbed into bed with a  full stomach. Leighton had made pasta and I had annihilated nearly the entire pot. Now that I had a nice income, our bellies were full more often. 

     "Hey, Leighton?" I whispered to my sister who was sleeping on the other side of the bed.     

     "Go to sleep, Peigh." My sister mumbled tiredly.

     "But I need to ask you something."

     With a grumble, she turned onto her side to face me, since she knew that I wouldn't relent until she payed attention.

     "Shoot."

     "Okay," I started, "so, my boss, or rather the quadriplegic-"

     "quata-whata?" She asked confusedly.

     "The quadriplegic. He's the man I'm taking care of. You know, the guy who's legs don't work. So, he's really mean to me for no reason and I kind of pulled a prank on him and I think he hates me now-"

     "What prank did you pull on him?" She interrupted curiously.

     I cleared my throat, "I put a ghost pepper in his turkey sandwich-"

     "YOU WHAT?" Leighton screamed as she sat up and I winced, hanging my head low in shame. "Peighton! How could you?! Those things are death bombs in your mouth!"

     I bit on my nails worriedly, "-And I think I may be fired but then the butler-"

     "What?" My sister growled dangerously, sitting up. Uh-oh.

     "But the butler said-"

     "You almost got fired?" She hissed. "Peighton, you need the job! My bakery job pays practically nothing-"

        "Butthebutlersaidnottogiveuponhimbecauseapparentlyhetreatsmedifferentlythaneveryoneelse." I rushed out quickly.

        "What?" Asked Leighton, dumbfounded.

     "The butler said not to give upon him because apparently he treats me differently than his old caretakers." 

        She stared at me with a blank face for a few seconds before letting out a loud, shocking squeal that pierced my eardrums.

        "HE LIKES YOU!"

        I blanched, my brain dead for a few minutes. I stared at her with a dumb expression for I don't know how long before I finally formed a coherent sentence.