[ANDREW]

　　"Finished," I sighed, clicking the save button. If I continued at this pace, I would be done in the next few months.

　　"What do you think?" I asked my greyhound, Roxanne settled down beside my wheelchair. She then sat up, barking in approval as she wagged her tail. Giving her a pet, I proceeded to shut down my laptop.

　　I got up pushing my wheelchair aside, I could deal without it most of the time. I was an arthritis sufferer, not crippled. Stretching my hands out over my head, I wondered what I'd eat for lunch.

　　Rice, with a little sauce... no that'll surpass my calorie limit... fruit salad??I thought, walking out of the study, Roxanne hot on my trail. Walking into the kitchen, I took in the morning song of the birds outside through the window. I turned to open the fridge, only to bump into Roxanne.

　　"Damn," I muttered, feeling the burn on my ankles. The kitchen was smallish and just enough for me and Roxanne to get around, but that was okay. My cabin had everything I needed to write and stay alive. There was a supply store down in town. I had my solitude, and I had Roxanne.

　　I'd moved here about two years ago from D.C. I had grown tired of the action-filled life that my sore bones couldn't keep up with.

　　Or was it him?

　　I ignored my thoughts, and instead fished out some leftover frozen salad and some dog Keble from the above cabinet. I moved to the counters to warm up the cold salad in a pot since I didn't have a microwave.

　　Is it so hard to admit you're running away?

　　I'm not running away from anybody. I'm not running away from anything.?I mean, why would I? My royalty checks were getting better each week, I had the peace and quiet I've always craved. I tried to convince myself as I dropped the salad container into the pot filled with a cup of water.

　　"You don't get out enough, come back home..."

　　I frowned, remembering my mom's words from her call last week. What did she mean? I get out enough. I see enough people when I went to town for supplies. I even offered to relieve the Literature professors sometimes in the local universities by taking some classes.

　　I sighed, placing Roxanne's bowl of Keble on the floor. I watched her eat for a while before turning back to my salad. I knew I should be eating more, but I didn't want to be the guy that gained back all his weight, it was bad enough that I was as plain-looking as they got.

　　My ears perked up and Roxanne barked at the sound of the living room landline ringing. I sighed, turning off the heat of the stove. Taking a hand towel, I wiped my hand before heading out the kitchen door.

　　"Hello?" I muttered into the phone, not bothering to check the number.

　　"Drew!"

　　Oh no...?I thought, bringing my free hand to my forehead.

　　"Drew? Speak to your Uncle, won't you."

　　"What do you want?" I asked in a frustrated voice. I don't like my uncle. He's a thorn in the neck and an even worse one when he wanted something. He was about to get married to his fiance, she's going to be his sixth if I counted correctly.

　　"Harsh, aren't you? Well, if you ask, I want you to accommodate my soon to be step son for a while. He"

　　"No," I said sternly. Review his benefits to go into a deal with a company, sure. Do that. No.

　　"Please, he's been newly enrolled in that college... Den... Um..."

　　"It's Denfort," I corrected, rolling my eyes. Why would he enroll someone- his soon to be stepson to a school he barely knew the name of?

　　"That's right. I need you to help me out with his keep."

　　"I can't. If he's of college-age why don't you just get him into the school dormitories?" I asked, looking for a way to slip out of this. I couldn't let someone invade my heaven.

　　"The costs are too expensive for what they're providing."

　　"Oh really..." I trailed, sarcasm staining my tone. I leaned on the wall, feeling the strain of my weight on my ankles. I wanted to get this talk over and done with.

　　"Well, yes"

　　"I can't help you," I said, closing my eyes in frustration.

　　"Drew you just have to. He's going to be at the train station tomorrow."

　　I cursed, balling my hands into fists in disbelief.

　　"Tomorrow? Tomorrow?! What's wrong with you?!" I screamed into the phone.

　　"I assumed you'd be easy to convince..." I groaned. It's just like him; always 'assuming'.

　　"I'll make it up to you. I'll send money for his keep I just need him away until I'm married to his mother." He tried through the phone. I sighed, so that's what this is about.

　　"I'll do it."

　　"You will?"

　　"Yes. Keep the money, just send the details of his enrollment and arrival." I sighed, not quite believing I was helping my uncle with woman problems again.

　　"Of course, that's my nephew"

　　"Goodbye uncle," I sighed, hanging up. Why couldn't my father have had more normal brothers? Looking around the living room I wondered if a seventeen, maybe eighteen-year-old, would want to live here. It was a small, reserved, simple town, and it was a little far from the college.

　　I shook my head, trying to get the doubt out of my head. I already agreed to this, and I'm not the one turn back on my word. Wondering away to the extra room, I turned on the lights to take a look. I frowned at the pile of dust building on the bed and furniture. Shaking my head, I wondered what exactly I had been expecting, no one had really used the room.

　　I walked to the windows, opening them to let in light and fresh air. I undressed the bed, taking the bed sheet and pillowcases with me out of the room. I needed to get fresh sheets, maybe clean out the drawers and do some light dusting. The bathroom would prove to be a problem too.

　　I walked into the small laundry, dropping the bedsheets in a hamper. Roxanne walked, in wagging her tail.

　　"Rox," I muttered, squatting to pet her.

　　"Seems we'll be having a visitor," I muttered, stroking her fur.