Read Online Bad Hair Day 4 - Body Wave by Nancy J. Cohen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nancy J. Cohen
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hands placed lightly on the wheelchair handlebars, she inclined her head.
"I don't know how I'm going to get those albums if Stanley won't cooperate," Stella said, wringing her hands. "I should have gone myself. Maybe he'd have listened to me."
"You tried at the funeral, and he ignored you," her sister sneered. "Can you blame him, when you came right out and accused him of murdering his wife?"
"He knew what Kim was planning! You, of all people, should understand how it would cause him to react the way he did."
"By killing her?" Florence said in an incredulous tone.
"Who else could have done it? You?"
"Don't be absurd."
"You always resented my daughter. I know how jealous you were that she wasn't your child."
"Stop it! You're screaming. I hate it when you get hysterical."
"Did you do it?"
"Hell, no." Florence shook her elegant head. "If you want to know, Kimberly was messing in things she didn't understand. She should have minded her own business." Leaning forward, she spoke in such a low voice that Marla couldn't catch what she was saying.
Damn, she needed to be closer! Frustrated, Marla took a few steps forward. Suddenly, she heard a shriek. Whipping around, she let a cry erupt from her lips at the sight that greeted her.
Miriam's wheelchair coasted down the hill at an increasingly perilous speed.
_Bless my bones, I forgot to apply the brakes!_ Taking off at a run, she charged after the errant wheelchair.
"Help!" wailed Miriam.
"Oh my God!" screeched the sisters in unison.
"I'm coming!" Marla shouted, flying down the driveway.
The wheelchair hit a bump and came to a crashing halt on the grass about two feet from a tree. Miriam slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.
"Dear Lord, are you all right?" Moisture sprang into Marla's eyes as she crouched to help the old lady to her feet.
"Wait, she might have broken something!" cried Florence, brushing forward to assist her mother.
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" howled Stella. "Should we call an ambulance?"
The front door opened, and Raoul peered out. "Heavens, madam!" He rushed over to assist them.
Marla grasped Miriam by the arm. The old lady glared at her but appeared to be moving all parts. "I don't think she's damaged anything."
"How can you tell?" Stella snapped. "What kind of nurse are you? You're not even in uniform!"
Florence gave her sister a quelling glance. "Don't just stand there; give us a hand."
"I'm so sorry," Marla intoned as she settled the matriarch onto the padded seat while Raoul steadied the chair. "Are you hurt? Any hip pain?" She knew that elderly women had a propensity for breaking their bones due to osteoporosis. Her mother told her to drink milk often enough, not that she'd reached the age where she needed to be concerned with such things. Hopefully, Miriam didn't have any minute fractures on her wrists, either. "How did you break your fall?" she asked anxiously.
"I landed on my butt, dearie."
Marla felt the old woman's probing eyes on her face, and she hung her head. "I suppose you won't want me to return on Thursday." "What's that? Find my glasses, will you?" Marla retrieved them on the ground, cleaned them off on her suit jacket, and handed them over. She was aware that both sisters and the butler were staring at her with malevolence. Miriam's gaze focused sharply.
"I said, you probably don't want me to come back," Marla murmured, her face flushing hotly. Her heart finally slowed its racing tempo as she faced the consequences of her negligence.
"You're right, missy," Stella said. "I've never seen someone so incompetent. First you force my mother out into the cold morning air, and then you walk away from her without wedging her wheelchair. I don't know where Morris found you, but you can go back there! We'll find someone else to cover for Agnes's days off."
Florence compressed her lips in agreement. As though in silent compliance, the butler took charge of the wheelchair and steered Miriam toward the
"I don't know how I'm going to get those albums if Stanley won't cooperate," Stella said, wringing her hands. "I should have gone myself. Maybe he'd have listened to me."
"You tried at the funeral, and he ignored you," her sister sneered. "Can you blame him, when you came right out and accused him of murdering his wife?"
"He knew what Kim was planning! You, of all people, should understand how it would cause him to react the way he did."
"By killing her?" Florence said in an incredulous tone.
"Who else could have done it? You?"
"Don't be absurd."
"You always resented my daughter. I know how jealous you were that she wasn't your child."
"Stop it! You're screaming. I hate it when you get hysterical."
"Did you do it?"
"Hell, no." Florence shook her elegant head. "If you want to know, Kimberly was messing in things she didn't understand. She should have minded her own business." Leaning forward, she spoke in such a low voice that Marla couldn't catch what she was saying.
Damn, she needed to be closer! Frustrated, Marla took a few steps forward. Suddenly, she heard a shriek. Whipping around, she let a cry erupt from her lips at the sight that greeted her.
Miriam's wheelchair coasted down the hill at an increasingly perilous speed.
_Bless my bones, I forgot to apply the brakes!_ Taking off at a run, she charged after the errant wheelchair.
"Help!" wailed Miriam.
"Oh my God!" screeched the sisters in unison.
"I'm coming!" Marla shouted, flying down the driveway.
The wheelchair hit a bump and came to a crashing halt on the grass about two feet from a tree. Miriam slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.
"Dear Lord, are you all right?" Moisture sprang into Marla's eyes as she crouched to help the old lady to her feet.
"Wait, she might have broken something!" cried Florence, brushing forward to assist her mother.
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" howled Stella. "Should we call an ambulance?"
The front door opened, and Raoul peered out. "Heavens, madam!" He rushed over to assist them.
Marla grasped Miriam by the arm. The old lady glared at her but appeared to be moving all parts. "I don't think she's damaged anything."
"How can you tell?" Stella snapped. "What kind of nurse are you? You're not even in uniform!"
Florence gave her sister a quelling glance. "Don't just stand there; give us a hand."
"I'm so sorry," Marla intoned as she settled the matriarch onto the padded seat while Raoul steadied the chair. "Are you hurt? Any hip pain?" She knew that elderly women had a propensity for breaking their bones due to osteoporosis. Her mother told her to drink milk often enough, not that she'd reached the age where she needed to be concerned with such things. Hopefully, Miriam didn't have any minute fractures on her wrists, either. "How did you break your fall?" she asked anxiously.
"I landed on my butt, dearie."
Marla felt the old woman's probing eyes on her face, and she hung her head. "I suppose you won't want me to return on Thursday." "What's that? Find my glasses, will you?" Marla retrieved them on the ground, cleaned them off on her suit jacket, and handed them over. She was aware that both sisters and the butler were staring at her with malevolence. Miriam's gaze focused sharply.
"I said, you probably don't want me to come back," Marla murmured, her face flushing hotly. Her heart finally slowed its racing tempo as she faced the consequences of her negligence.
"You're right, missy," Stella said. "I've never seen someone so incompetent. First you force my mother out into the cold morning air, and then you walk away from her without wedging her wheelchair. I don't know where Morris found you, but you can go back there! We'll find someone else to cover for Agnes's days off."
Florence compressed her lips in agreement. As though in silent compliance, the butler took charge of the wheelchair and steered Miriam toward the
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