The Summer Wind by Mary Alice Monroe

our home,” she answered straightforwardly. “For the summer. Like we talked about, remember? Is that okay with you?”
    He looked away. “Can I go back to my game now?” he asked.
    Dora didn’t want him stuck playing games in the dark room with Harper any longer.
    “I think we are done with the game for a while.”
    “Harper is winning and I don’t want to lose.” His voice was getting whiny.
    “But I haven’t seen you in days,” she said. “Let’s go outdoors. It’s a beautiful day. I’ll make you something to eat. Are you hungry?”
    “I want to go back to my game.”
    “You’ve been playing for hours,” Dora replied more firmly. “It’s time to turn off the game.”
    His expression immediately turned mutinous and he began shaking his hands erratically high in the air. “No!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
    “That’s enough,” Dora said sharply.
    Nate began jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. “I hate you!” he said over and over. Then in a rush of defiance he ran to grab his remote from the floor. “I won’t turn it off.”
    Dora felt her anger zoom and stomped over to Nate’s side to grab the remote from him. “It’s time to turn off the game.”
    Despite his small size, his anger was quick and powerful. Nate’s face colored and he balled his fist. In a flash he swung back and struck Dora, right over her heart. The punch packed a wallop, but more than cause pain, because it was her heart, because she was afraid, the hit shook her. Dora stumbled back, hand over her breast and sucking in her breath.
    Nate threw himself onto the ground in a full-blown tantrum.
    Dora watched him howling and kicking with a feeling of helplessness. She couldn’t move, couldn’t find the energy to go to him, to soothe him. She felt swallowed up by panic and despair.
    “I can’t do this anymore!” The cry ripped from her throat. She backed away from her son and covered her face in her hands. “I need help!”
    In a breath, she felt Mamaw’s arms around her, heard her voice at her ear. “We’ll help you, Dora. You’re not alone.”

Chapter Six

    D ays passed and Dora did not leave her bedroom. She couldn’t muster the desire, much less the energy. She lay listlessly on the twin bed, wearing a thin white cotton nightgown, staring at the patterns of light playing on the ceiling. It was another in what seemed a steady stream of hot midsummer days. The air-conditioning hummed, but Mamaw never kept the temperature very cool. The ceiling fan did a good job stirring the air, though the blades were slightly off balance, shaking the fan and making monotonous clicking noises as it whirred.
    Dora had shared this small bedroom with Harper since they’d arrived at Sea Breeze in May. When she’d returned from the hospital, however, she found Harper had temporarily moved into Carson’s empty bedroom. Dora had expected Harper to move back in with her when Carson returned the night before, but she heard the two of them giggling and talkingin the other room like little girls till the wee hours of the morning.
    Dora hadn’t minded sharing a room with Harper. She couldn’t have wished for a better roommate. She was tidy, excessively so. Her younger sister lived like a nun, albeit a well-dressed one. All her clothing, shoes, and jewelry were stored in attractive storage boxes or velvet bags. Her laptop and books were stacked in orderly fashion on the small table in the corner. Her bed was made every morning, complete with crisp hospital corners. Even in the bathroom, not only did she clean up after herself but she compulsively cleaned up after Dora, as well, picking up towels from the floor, wiping the sink and tub, putting away toiletries into the baskets she’d purchased.
    Still, sleeping in the same room, in twin beds no less, was a bit more togetherness than either of them wanted. Harper was on her computer or reading a book until late at night. Dora usually could fall asleep, but on nights she