You Take It From Here by Pamela Ribon

Author:Pamela Ribon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Gallery Books

I practically dove headfirst into the bathtub once we got back to the house. I wanted to use my allotted extra “hair time” to decompress.

As the water splashed across my aching stomach, I thought about how this plan had already gone on longer than I could have ever thought possible. More unbelievable was how it was starting to feel real. I was actually thinking about how I’d handle carrying out Smidge’s wishes, picturing myself in her house, sitting with her family at church. Although I confess I probably wouldn’t be too overly concerned with the purse I carried.

Smidge hadn’t once asked for my own opinions on how to run her house smoothly, so if it had nothing to do with my skills as a domestic consultant, why should I even be involved? Couldn’t Henry handle these things on his own? Renew his own prescriptions. Take his own daughter to Second Baptist. Make sure the rosemary is trimmed back. Promise never to use soap on the cast-iron skillet.

A cold blast hit me as the bathroom door opened. Before I could say or do much more than splash and screech, as if I’d just summoned him myself, Henry was standing above me, eyes widened in terror. “Oh!” he shouted, his voice high and ladylike, his fingers covering his eyes in honest shock.

“I’m in here!” I shouted, which was the most obvious statement I could have made at that particular time.

“I’m sorry!” Trying to leave, he accidentally slammed the door into his own forehead, which made him have to open the door once again, only to see me sitting up in confusion. If he hadn’t seen me naked the first time, he certainly got to see quite a bit on the second showing, before successfully closing the bathroom door with him on the other side of it.

I slapped the bathwater with my hand. “Henry!”

After a few seconds I heard his mumble. “You should lock that,” he said.

“I did!”

“The lock is broken, it would seem.”

“Yes, I suppose it would seem that!”

As I pulled the stopper from the drain I could hear Smidge’s delighted peals of laughter through the walls.

The next time that door opened, Smidge leaned in wearing a green spaghetti-strap dress under a black cardigan. Her hair pulled high atop her head and secured with a white flowered barrette, she was beautiful—exactly as tragically beautiful as she would’ve wanted it to be if only everybody knew how sick she was. I am sure it bothered her that she wasn’t able to milk her frailty for maximum sympathy.

“Smidge!” I said, not equipped with enough hands or limbs to cover everything I needed to hide from her view. I finished wrapping myself in a towel, wondering why I even bothered with modesty.

“That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” she said, stopping only to make an actual hooting sound. “Henry!” Smidge shouted down the hall. “Come back, she’s out! Now you can see the rest of her! Not just a titty preview!”

“Why can’t you be

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