Chapter Twenty-Two
After Avila filled out and emailed Ebony’s Equity membership application, she turned her attention to the house. As Avila
was working alone, the painting went slowly. By the time the sun had set, Avila was glad for an early dinner. She and Ebony
ate in silence on the porch, away from the paint fumes. Ebony ignored her attempts at conversation.
After Ebony put her plate in the sink, she came back out and headed down the steps. “I’m going for a walk.” Her earlier conversation
about pushing people away played in Avila’s mind. What would stop her from stopping by Terence’s house?
“No, Ebony. Stay here.”
Ebony glared at her. “Why?”
“Because I said so.” It would have to be enough, because Avila wasn’t giving her a better explanation.
Ebony pressed her lips together, and Avila wondered if she was going to defy her. “Fine.” She headed to the backyard.
Ebony opened the fence that led to the backyard, presumably to chill back there.
Avila needed to go back in and paint, but she wondered if she should leave Ebony outside without supervision. Avila had done nothing but say no all day, and the thought of another disagreement made her tired. Besides, it was only the backyard. There was nothing Ebony could do back there to hurt herself. Avila would keep an eye on her through the window.
Avila retrieved a new roller pan and roller from the shed and cast a look in the direction of Terence’s house. She hadn’t
seen him since that morning, when she told him that she didn’t need his help today. The thought of not seeing him bothered
her, but it was for the best. Right now, he probably wanted them in the Lowcountry even after the play was over, but that
wasn’t feasible, at least not in Avila’s heart.
But that’s the way she wanted it. At least, she thought so.
Avila gathered the supplies and left the shed, remembering the time they kissed. She remembered how safe she felt in his arms.
He was a refuge in the storm.
That was all the more reason for her to stay away from him. Her attraction was just for security. Nothing more.
Back in the house, she poured paint in the pan and ran the roller through it. She would stay focused on the task at hand.
Worrying would do her no good.
Avila peeked out at Ebony periodically. Her daughter didn’t move from her spot, and she had her chin in her hand, staring
into the distance. How many hours had Avila spent in the same spot? Often with Terence at her side, talking about everything
under the sun. Ebony would be okay once she started rehearsals. Avila wished she could fast-forward through the week and have
rehearsals now. She imagined the fun Ebony would have once she started performing.
Suddenly Terence appeared in her mind, waving goodbye. She shook her head as if to dislodge the idea. Then she climbed up the ladder to reach the ceiling. The white paint went on smoothly, covering the years of dirt, erasing memories of the past.
A few minutes later, she checked on Ebony, reloaded the roller, and climbed the ladder again, bracing her thighs against the
top. The breeze had died down, leaving the air still. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. Sweat trickled down
her back. Outside, the sound of children playing in the street came through the window.
She extended the roller upward, and it hit the corner of the bedroom door, falling from her hand. Instinctively, she reached
out, hoping to catch it before it hit the floor. Her hand grabbed at the air. The movement unbalanced her. She clutched at
the ladder, but it was too late.
Avila untangled her feet from the ladder, and they hit the floor first. But one foot landed on the roller handle.
She heard a snap, and pain shot up her ankle. Sinking to the floor, she pulled her knee to her chest and rocked, squeezing
her eyes shut. Avila focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. Her breath caught every few seconds, as if her body had
forgotten how to breathe.
Did she break her ankle? At the very least, she had snapped a ligament or tendon. She peeled off her sock inch by inch, shouting
at the pain the movement caused.
The flesh had begun to swell. She needed to get ice on it quickly. She couldn’t afford a trip to the doctor, but if it was
only a tendon or ligament, she could handle it herself.
Avila’s ankle throbbed. The kitchen seemed a mile away. How would she get all the way to the refrigerator? She lay back against
the rug and moaned. The thought of moving her foot an inch was enough to make her cringe.
Avila needed Ebony. After catching her breath, she propped herself up and sucked in air, releasing her daughter’s name as loudly as she could. She stilled, listening. All she heard was the sound of children playing outside.
The phone. A quick scan of the living room told her it was only a couple of yards away, on the coffee table. She could get
to that. She propped her weight on her palms and used her good foot to propel herself backward. Her right foot was dragging,
and she moved very slowly.
Avila clamped her teeth against the pain. She had broken one bone, her big toe, when she caught it on Terence’s bike tire
when they were young. But this was worse. Her joint throbbed so hard, she could feel the injury in her head.
When she was near the table, she stopped and reached for the phone. She had two options, and one of them had no appeal. She
punched in Ms. Mable’s number, then propped her foot on the coffee table to elevate it, while the phone rang. She grimaced
as her calf connected with the edge of the table.
Her ankle had swollen to the size of a softball, and the flesh turned a darker shade of brown. Hopefully, she hadn’t broken
anything.
Avila realized the phone had rung at least a dozen times. Ms. Mable wasn’t home. She jabbed the Off button. The mower hummed
in the distance. Even so, she drew her breath and called Ebony’s name again. Maybe she was near enough to hear now.
After calling three more times, she gave up. Elevating her foot had eased the pain to a bearable degree. She laid her head back against the sofa and caught her breath. She could call Samantha. She was sure Samantha wouldn’t mind coming over. That would take longer, but it was better than having to call Terence.
Then she realized it was Thursday. This was a day when real estate agents would be showing homes. She punched in Samantha’s
number anyway and let it ring. She hoped that Samantha would pick up the phone. She noticed the refrigerator in the distance,
and she wished she could go over and get herself a bag of ice to ice her ankle. But even with ice on her ankle, would she
be able to walk? Given the way her foot felt now, she couldn’t imagine it bearing her weight.
When Samantha’s voicemail came on, Avila hung up. There was no getting around it now. She turned the phone on and dialed Terence’s
number.
“Hello?”
Avila paused, gathering her courage. “It’s me.”
“Avila.” His tone was filled with hope.
“I need your help. I’m hurt.” Her foot slid down an inch, and the edge of the table cut into her ankle.
“Be right there.” The phone clicked off.
She set the phone aside and used her hands to reposition her ankle. She hoped it wasn’t broken. How would she be able to finish
the house if it was broken? Even if it wasn’t broken, how would she manage? And her job. Would she be back on her feet soon?
She couldn’t afford more time off. Her credit card was nearly maxed out, and her savings were gone. Why couldn’t anything
go right in her life?
Avila laid her head against the couch and closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain. Moments later, Terence walked through
the door.
“What happened?” He was at her side before she could blink.
“My ankle. I fell.” She felt stupid once the words rolled off her tongue. How could she be so clumsy?
He looked at her foot, taking care not to touch the injury.
She was such an idiot. Today, she fell off a ladder, and Terence would rescue her. She didn’t want to be rescued. She wanted
to take care of herself. She didn’t need him or anyone else.
But she couldn’t even get to the fridge right now.
“Be right back.”
Avila watched him head to the kitchen and open the freezer door. He wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscular arms.
Was it only last night that she planted kisses on his lips and snuggled against him?
She tore her gaze away and studied her ankle. It didn’t even look like an ankle anymore. It was bloated and discolored, and
it ached.
Terence returned with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a paper towel.
Avila gritted her teeth when he set it on her ankle.
“We need to take you to the emergency room.”
Avila shook her head. Regardless of what her insurance might cover, her deductible was high and hadn’t been met. “It’ll be
fine. The ice will help.”
He lifted the cold pack. “Look at it, Avila. It needs an X-ray.”
She tried to sit up, leaving her leg at an angle. She regretted the movement. “It could just be a ligament or tendon. I heard
something snap.”
“What if it was a bone?” He adjusted the placement of the pack, wrapping it around the outside.
“Can’t you tell if it was broken?”
“I have a PhD, not an MD. It needs an X-ray.”
Avila huffed. “So examine it.”
“I’ll get my car.” Terence stood and headed to the door.
“I never said I was going,” she called as he left. The screen door slammed shut, and she was left alone in the house.
Avila really wanted to get up and lock the door. She wasn’t sure if her ankle was broken. She could just prop it up, rest,
take a couple of aspirin, and it would be fine by morning. But she couldn’t even get up. Even the thought of getting to Terence’s
car made her groan.
She knew there would be no deterring Terence at this point, and she was hardly in a position to fight. She was going to the
ER whether she wanted to or not. Maybe the house would sell quickly.
When Terence returned, she realized Ebony would have to go with them. “Ebony is in the backyard. Could you get her?”
A moment later, she heard him calling Ebony and heard the low timbre of his voice as he talked with her. While Avila waited,
she took off the cold pack and lifted herself onto the couch. Her ankle, now level with her hips, was filled with pain. She
was about to elevate her ankle on the couch when Ebony and Terence entered.
“Mom?” Ebony looked at Avila’s bloated ankle.
Avila tried to smile. “I’m fine, honey. It’s just a sprain.” She narrowed her eyes at Terence. “But he seems to think I need
a doctor.”
Terence hung back in the kitchen while Avila sat on the couch and placed the bag of peas back on her ankle. The swelling had
gotten worse, if anything.
Terence returned with a glass of water and three aspirin. Despite Avila’s physical pain, she wanted to hug him. She took the pills and set the glass on the table.
Ebony watched silently while Terence slid his hand under Avila and eased her off the couch. She held her foot as steady as
possible, but there was no stopping the agony. She settled her arms around his neck as he turned toward the door.
The aspirin had put a small dent in the pain, and now that her ankle was elevated on the gurney, the aching eased. The doctor
had examined it and had taken X-rays. Now they waited for a verdict.
“How are you feeling?” Terence asked from his chair beside her gurney. The soggy bag of peas lay across his thighs.
“Better.” Avila looked at Ebony, seated next to Terence. Her daughter did her best to fake nonchalance, but Avila knew she
was worried. She gestured toward the peas. “Guess you got out of eating those, huh?”
Ebony’s mouth gave a half-smile.
The doctor entered the room with a digital image, which he put on a board on the wall. The light flipped on. He studied the
picture, tilting his head back to look at it through his tiny glasses. Seconds later, he flipped off the light and turned
to Avila. “No break, Avila. Looks like you’ve got a torn ligament, though.”
Avila exhaled and was relieved. “Just as I thought.” After sending Terence an I knew it look, she asked the next question bearing down on her. “How long will it take to heal?” She had to finish painting and apply
varnish to the floors. Those things were absolutely necessary.
“I’ll send a nurse in with an instruction sheet, but you need to stay off your feet for at least forty-eight hours. After that, you can gradually ease your weight back on it. I suggest using a crutch first. You tore it pretty badly.”
At least forty-eight hours? “I can’t stay off it for two days.” She would barely get everything finished as it was.
“You will, if you want it to heal correctly. I can give you a doctor’s excuse for work if you need one.”
That was a whole other concern. “How long will it take before I can get back to work?”
“Acute ankle sprains heal in four to six weeks.”
Avila’s jaw dropped. Hers had better heal in one week, or else she could lose her job.
“I’ll send the nurse in. Take care, now.” The doctor left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
“Not what you wanted to hear,” Terence said. “But at least it’s not broken.”
Avila swallowed. “You don’t understand. I have to be at work in a month. I don’t have six weeks. I don’t even have two.”
“I think he meant it takes that long for it to heal completely. Maybe if you rest it over the next few weeks, you’ll be able
to work, even if you have to limp a little. You can wrap the ankle to stabilize it.”
Rest over the next few weeks? Terence knew she couldn’t do that. The house had to be finished. After she completed her leave
without pay, she wouldn’t be able to get away from work even for a weekend to come back and work on it, not with all the time
she had taken off already. Not to mention the travel expense of going back and forth.
Frustration lumped in her throat. “I have to finish the house. And I have to take Ebony to her rehearsals and performances,” she said. Why couldn’t he see how important this was? She had worked so hard to get this done. For Ebony’s future.
The nurse came to give her take-home instructions. Rest. No pressure on the ankle at all. Ice. Compression. Elevation. For
at least forty-eight hours. After delivering the instructions, she left to retrieve a wheelchair.
“I can help, Mom.” Ebony’s voice begged her attention. Her mask of indifference had lifted, and Avila caught a glimpse of
the old Ebony.
“With what?”
“The painting and stuff. I can do it.”
Ebony couldn’t possibly do all the work, but Avila was pleased that she offered. She smiled at her daughter. “I appreciate
that. We’ll figure it out later, all right?”
Ebony nodded.
Her ankle throbbed. There was really nothing to figure out. Avila would have to do the work. She could load up on painkillers
and paint on one leg, right? She would wrap her ankle during the day and elevate and ice it at night. She could hop around
and keep her weight off it. Maybe she could borrow a crutch from someone.
Terence came to her bedside and rested his hands on the metal rails. “I see that look in your eyes.”
“What?” she asked innocently.
“You need to follow the doctor’s instructions. Otherwise, you won’t be able to work on the house come next Monday. Or worse
yet, your ankle won’t heal right.”
Avila lowered her voice, so Ebony wouldn’t hear. “You know I can’t do that. That’s too much work for a kid. The floors will be a challenge, even for me.”
“Then just leave it. Does it really matter if they’re done? The house will sell as is.”
How could he understand how much every dollar counted to her? He was a successful professor, and she was a struggling single
mother. “You wouldn’t understand.”
A house in top shape could get thousands more than a house that still needed work. Stopping now was like throwing thousands
of dollars into the ocean. She had worked too hard to be wasteful.
“I can see your stubborn side. I’m wasting my breath.”
Good. Maybe he would stop pestering her about it. “I also have to drive Ebony to her rehearsals. How am I going to manage
all of that?”
He sighed. “You don’t have to manage it. I’m here. I can help. I’ll take off work this week—”
“No,” she said firmly. She wasn’t putting him out again. He was always helping her.
“I’ll cancel my classes for next week. And then find a substitute for any subsequent weeks. I’ll just give the students extra
work to do in the interim. And that will hold them over until you’re gone.” Something deadened in his eyes when he said the
last part. His fist tightened around the bed rail.
“No,” she said again. “This is my problem, and I’ll handle it.”
“I’ve got vacation time coming; no big deal.” He shrugged one shoulder.
“Some vacation! You work on my house all week. Take Ebony to her rehearsals. Then work extra hours when you get back.”
“We’re friends. Friends are there for each other, right?” His brown eyes warmed. For a moment, she just wanted to get lost in them.
He made it sound like it was easy. Sure, friends were supposed to be there for each other, but why was it always Terence being
there for her? It made her feel needy. She wasn’t needy.
The nurse entered with a wheelchair. “All right, Avila. Let’s get you on your way.”
Avila sat up, giving Terence one last look. “This conversation isn’t over,” she said quietly.
He smiled. “It is. You just don’t know that yet.”