Like a Woman Read Online Free PDF

Mike climbed in through the back window and unlocked the closet to get to Ryan. He was bleeding from a cut above his eye and softly moaning, too dazed to even cry. Taylor stood back a little, watching Mike cradle his brother on the floor of the closet. She was trying to figure out where she was going to get Ryan a jar to pee in, which was the only thing he wanted, when Mrs. Doyle came bursting into the room. Taylor couldn’t get out of the way. She felt her right arm jerked out of its socket, her left side slam into the wall, and in between she flew.
    Taylor slid down the wall to the floor, trying to find air. Mike ran out of the room, getting backhanded across the head. Unable to move, Taylor crouched in terror as Mrs. Doyle picked up the bloody child and began rocking him back and forth.
    â€œRy Ry, what’s wrong, baby? Mommy’s here. You know you’re my baby. You know Mommy loves you best.”
    That was the thing about Ryan. You couldn’t ever tell if he was going to get hit or held. When Taylor could get her breath, she ran.
    After that, Mike and Taylor perfected their rescue techniques. They decided Taylor would go to the front door and cause a distraction while Mike and Tommy snuck in through the back window with warm washcloths, water, and a pee jar. Since Taylor didn’t belong to Mrs. Doyle, she was the least likely to get hit in the moments following an explosion. Plus, she was the closest thing to a girl in the neighborhood, even if she could kick the butt of every boy around. Her mom once told her that part of what made Mrs. Doyle nuts was, one, that she was married to Mr. Doyle and, two, that she kept trying and trying for a girl baby, but they kept coming out boys—Mike, Tom, Ryan, Dave, Sean, Bobby—till finally she snapped and went crazy, probably around Ryan. All Taylor knew was she was scared shitless of this woman built like a halfback, who could throw her across the room like a little piece of nothing.
    But on that one hot, sticky summer morning when it all began to break apart, it was precisely because she was peacefully listening to the silence that Taylor was so surprised to hear Mike knocking at her bedroom window. She went over to the window, climbed up on the dresser, and looked down at her friend.
    â€œHurry up, Taylor,” Mike whispered. “I think Ryan’s hurt bad.”
    Taylor climbed out the window, thinking hard. She looked to the street. Mr. Doyle’s car was gone. It was too early in the morning to borrow David. He wouldn’t be dressed yet. Mrs. Doyle didn’t like to loan cigarettes, bacon was too expensive, and Taylor had already borrowed sugar twice that week. Maybe a little margarine, she thought. That might work. Plus she could make it a really girl thing and ask Mrs. Doyle about a recipe for something. Last time she’d helped Mrs. Doyle do the grocery shopping she discovered the ten ways to use Hamburger Helper so your family doesn’t know they’re eating the same thing every night.
    â€œOkay, I got it,” Taylor said. “Do you need any towels?”
    â€œNah, I got some,” Mike said. “Try and give me at least ten minutes, okay?” Mike took off around the back side of the house before she could answer.
    â€œYeah. I’ll try,” Taylor replied, slowly walking up to the Doyle’s front porch. She took a deep breath and knocked on the front door. There was no answer. She waited another minute and then knocked again, harder. Still nothing. She grew worried that Mrs. Doyle might be heading toward the back room where Ryan was. She thought of running around the house and warning Mike, but she didn’t want to not be there if Mrs. Doyle answered the door. Closing her eyes and leaning her head on the doorway, Taylor wished she were somewhere else. Anywhere else. She felt her stomach rise and her heart sink. She knocked really hard a third time and then tried the door. It opened and she