I Am Not My Brother’s Keeper
© 2011 Amelia Bradford
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I would like to dedicate this book to my husband for his never-ending support in making my book a reality. And thank you to my two precious children Abbey and Lucas, Abbey who helped me so much and to Lucas for being a good baby and allowing Mummy to write! I also would like to thank four of my life long friends for always keeping after me to write a book: Meredith (mostly), Barb, “Mia” and Vicki.
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“What a day. What a rotten day.”
It was drizzling rain and chilly. The locals are used to it, the sudden summer chills of San Francisco that surprise and catch visitors to the region rushing for their sweaters. Almost every morning and afternoon through the months of May, June and July, a foggy, gray soup rushes in from the Pacific Ocean to envelop the northern coastal and valley regions of California. This was one of those days. I suppose it fit the occasion.
I was inside the local Pharmacy store, standing at the wire transfer desk for the third time in a week preparing to send money to my brother, Adam. As I completed the paperwork, I could feel myself getting really angry. Well, outrage is a better way to describe what was happening with me. Bastard! Yes, outrage mixed with stomach churning anxiety threatening to break through the brave, smiley face I was so adept at portraying to my family, friends and what seemed like the entire planet.
Happy, happy Amelia, nothing ever bothers Amelia. Need help; call Amelia! Oh, she may say no sometimes, but she never means it, always gives in, every time; can never say no and really mean it. Just keep at her. After all, she is married to that rich Australian and he is so generous. She can afford to help. They have plenty to spare. She should help. She is family isn’t she?