Summer Melody

Chapter 6 - Meg

Meg caught up to Brady at the foot of the stairwell of his apartment building. He stared up the Escher-like circle of steps with a defeated expression as he began to lever himself with his crutches, limping up onto the first step. She set his bag down on the floor and placed a hand on his shoulder from behind. "You big fool, why don't you take the elevator? That's what it's there for."

"I'm fine." Brady grunted a little as he hoisted himself up a step at a time.

"Seriously, honey, let’s take the elevator."

"I said I'm fine!"

She extended her middle finger outward from her balled fist at her side, out of Brady's line of sight. "Yes, sir! You know best. I'll meet you at the top!" She scooted around to the other side of him, clutching his suitcase close to avoid banging into him.

He was so touchy since the mugging a week ago. Granted, he still probably felt like shit, but God, it was like living with her mother in her pre-menopausal PMS days, where a compliment about dinner could be taken by Vivian as a criticism of every other meal served in a lifetime.

And what was this "I am he-man" routine with the stairs? Take the damned elevator. God knows, it was just sitting there, waiting for someone to use it. The wrought-iron cage was a million years old, only wide enough for a single person, with a door that you closed by turning a crank. But it got you where you needed to go.

Reaching the landing, Meg dropped the suitcase with a solid thump next to Brady's door. It actually made the old flooring bounce a little. She leaned over the railing and saw him a floor below, steadfastly soldiering on. On the other side of the door, Barkley scratched wildly, knowing that someone was outside. "Cool it, Barks. Dad'll be up here in just a minute." She sat down on the floor to wait. Brady finally arrived at the apartment, winded and sweaty. He grinned at her. "Guess maybe I should've taken you up on that elevator thing, huh?"

Meg scrambled up to her feet and kissed him on the tip of his nose. "There's hope for you yet."

As they opened the door, Barkley sprang out and tried to give his best friend a Basset body-slam. Brady winced from the contact. Most of the swelling was gone, but his bruises were still impressively large and purple, and his cast and crutches kept him in an awkward stiffness.

Meg crouched and grabbed Barkley by the collar. "Careful, there." She patted the dog, holding him still while Brady made his way inside. Her moving boxes were stacked precariously in the center of the living room, a few nesting on the sofa.

Limping to an empty chair, Brady lowered himself with care. "I see you've moved in." Barkley waddled over and laid down at his feet.

She narrowed her eyes and mock-growled at him. "Ha-ha. I don't think you were under the influence when we talked about this." She adopted a lawyerly stance and began pacing as if in front of a jury. "Fact one: the court may remember you're going to need someone to keep you clean and fed until the cast comes off. Fact two: you can't move in with me because of my roommates. Fact three: I don't feel comfortable with the idea of a beautiful private nurse moving in and giving you sponge baths."

Brady raised his eyebrows. "I don't remember talking about that last one. It actually sounds pretty good."

Meg lightly swatted him on the shoulder. "So, if you recall, considering that we'll be living together with a license and everything in a couple months anyway, we agreed that I should move in early." She searched his face, suddenly not sure any of this was such a good idea. "Have you changed your mind? Do you want me to move back?"

"No, no. It's just that..." He sighed. "It's just that my place was clean when I was last here."

She grabbed a wadded sock lying in the box nearest her and threw it lightly at his shoulder, one of his only uninjured body parts. "I was trying to be considerate, you twerp! I didn't want to move my shit in and redecorate without you being here."