My Sister's Prayer Read Online Free

for her youngest granddaughter, I had a feeling it was as much about the shock of it all. Wealth tended to cushion one against many of life’s uglier realities, but in the space of a single, near-fatal crash, Nana’s cushion had been jerked away, forcing her to face the fact that bad things happened, and most of them were totally out of her control. For someone like her, life was all about control, about engineering and organizing and dictating all the details into their proper places. I wasn’t all that different from her, if I were being honest, yet another reason for my bicycle plan.
    â€œHow’s she doing?” I asked, giving a smile and a thanks to the maid who magically appeared to take my jacket.
    â€œI hope you didn’t come straight from work,” Nana replied, ignoring the question as she eyed my dark-wash jeans. I’d worn them with a pair of Franco Sarto ankle boots and a hunter green V-neck top, and I thought the outfit looked great, its colors complementing my long auburn hair.
    â€œDon’t get me wrong,” sheadded, seeing the expression on my face. “You look impeccable, as usual. I just didn’t realize blue jeans were suitable for—”
    â€œThey’re not, Nana. I went home and changed first.”
    â€œOh, good. And at least everything else is perfect, as always. Well, almost.” She patted down some imaginary loose strand on the side of my head and then took my elbow, leading me across the solarium toward the study. “Speaking of hair, wait till you see your sister. You won’t recognize her.” Lowering her voice, she added, “That hideous bleached-blond disaster is gone forever, thank goodness.”
    Poor Nicole. How she had managed to stick it out even this long was beyond me.
    I held my tongue as we reached the door and gave it a quick knock. My late grandfather’s study, which hadn’t been used much since his death almost a year ago, was currently serving as Nicole’s temporary bedroom. Fortunately, it was large enough to accommodate her massive hospital bed as well as her wheelchair and other medical devices.
    Our knock was answered by Inez Valero, the aide who cared for Nicole each day. She handled everything from dressing to feeding to bathing and more, and I could only hope Nana would let her continue in that role once we’d shifted things to my house.
    Inez greeted me warmly before leaving the room to give us some privacy. I looked to Nicole, who was pale and thin but had a definite sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there last Sunday when I’d visited after church. This was the glow of relief , no doubt.
    I moved over to the bed and gave her a hug, careful not to jostle her healing ribs. I resisted the urge to smooth her gown and tuck in her blanket and otherwise mother her. She would always be my baby sister, but at twenty-five she was no baby and hated being treated like one.
    â€œHey, you,” I said softly.
    â€œHey back,” she replied. “Is it time for our racquetball game already?”
    I laughed.
    â€œWell?” Nana exclaimed, stretching the word outward and upward. “What do you think?”
    It took a moment for me to realize she was talking about Nicole’shair. I hated to admit it, but there was no denying she looked a thousand times better. The two-toned dye job had been replaced by carefully foiled and highlighted blondish-brown locks. The style was cute too, a shoulder-length bob with long layers that curved in at the bottom.
    â€œShe looks amazing,” I said.
    â€œThanks,” Nicole replied. “I think this shade of blond is the perfect complement to my orange-and-yellow legs.”
    With a huff, Nana turned and left the room, no doubt the very response my sister had been going for. Nicole’s vibrantly colored fiberglass casts had been a source of embarrassment to our grandmother since she first saw them at the hospital. “What’s