Read Online The Lightning Rule by Brett Ellen Block - Free Book Online Page B

lived in Newark, I shouldn’t have any accent left. Some things just stay with you, I suppose.”
    There were things that stayed with Emmett too, things he couldn’t let go of, like an accent he couldn’t drop.
    “Let me see if I can talk to Edward,” he told her, turning to go.
    “Must be tough, caring for your brother on your own,” Mrs. Poole said in a tone tender and low to ensure Edward wouldn’t overhear. “You’re a grown man. You have a career, a life to lead.”
    She was giving him permission not to feel guilty for asking for help. Emmett had confessed nothing, yet she saw through him to his heart as clearly as she had seen his badge.
    “Give me a minute with him,” he said.
    Edward was at the far end of the porch, staring at the backyard, hands knitted tight. Emmett stepped outside, the screen door creaking and announcing his arrival. Edward wouldn’t acknowledge his presence. Emmett went and stood beside him. He had to let his brother speak first.
    “That crabgrass is going to ruin the lawn. You see it? By the garage,” Edward said. A patch of scrubby, yellow blades was encroaching on the property. “You’ll have to pull it up or else the grass’ll die.”
    “Okay. I’ll pull it up.”
    “And you’d better put some of that weed killer Pop used on it too.”
    “Okay.”
    Edward shook a cigarette out of his pack. He didn’t light it. “You coulda warned me, Marty.”
    “I know. I should have.”
    “I don’t have to like her.”
    “No, you don’t have to like her. But you might.”
    “And if I don’t?”
    “Then you don’t.”
    “You’ll get somebody else, won’t you?”
    “It can’t be me, Ed. I can’t quit to be here with you.”
    “I know that,” he said, a hitch in his voice. “I wish…”
    “What?”
    Edward was wavering, wary of loosening some emotional valve. Being in the wheelchair, it was easier for him not to meet Emmett’s eyes, to act as if they were on the telephone talking long-distance rather than person to person. The moment passed. He dammed up whatever it was he was going to say, sealing it inside him again. “Nothing. Never mind.”
    Emmett held the screen door, and Edward wheeled himself inside. Mrs. Poole was roosted on the edge of the couch, smoothing her dress over her knees.
    “Have you ever worked with somebody like me?” Edward asked her, getting right to the point. An awkward silence bloated the room.
    “I don’t know, dear. I just met you. What’re you like?”
    Mrs. Poole was looking Edward squarely in the face as though the wheelchair didn’t exist. She looked at him the way Emmett couldn’t.
    Rarely at a loss, Edward’s bravado dissolved. Emmett realized that Mrs. Poole had picked the couch because it was the lowest seat in the living room and it put her right on Edward’s level. It would hurt her to stand up again. She had sat there nonetheless.
    “I have references if you need to see them.” Mrs. Poole unsnapped her purse, prepared to present them in case Edward was on the fence.
    He deferred to Emmett. “Do we need to see her references?”
    The woman was tougher than Emmett initially thought, and it would take more than Edward to fluster her. That spoke louder than any reference could.
    “Do we?” He bounced the question back, leaving the final say to his brother, who deliberated for a beat.
    “No, that’s all right.”
    With that, the deal was sealed. Emmett gave Mrs. Poole a tour of the house, told her that she was welcome to whatever food was in the refrigerator, then wrote her a check for a week’s pay in advance.
    “You don’t have to give this to me now, Mr. Emmett.”
    “Really, I do.”
    Mrs. Poole tucked the check into her purse, taking the hint. “Is this a bribe so I’ll stick out the week?”
    “If I’d known you were that easy to bribe, I would have paid you for a month,” Emmett said with a wink. He jotted the phone number to the police station on a pad. “Here’s where I can be reached. It’s the