| Subject: Chapter 20 cont'd |
Author:
Kate
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Date Posted: 16:33:18 03/31/01 Sat
In reply to:
by Kate
's message, "Things My Mother Taught Me" on 19:49:51 03/29/01 Thu
Half an hour later, Milla heard a tentative knock on the door. "Milla darling?"
Sara.
Milla blew her nose again. She felt swollen and nasty and her head hurt. Angrily, she shoved her open backpack under the bed.
"Milla darling, it's me, Sara. Your mother sent me to look at your hand. Will you let me in?"
Slowly, Milla unlocked the door.
"Goodness!" Sara blinked at Milla, then smiled. "You look a little worse for the wear. Let me in and we'll see about the hand, all right?"
Silently, Milla stood aside. Sara put her medical bag down, sat on the bed and Milla sat next to her, mutely holding out her hand.
"I'm sorry you were sick. I guess something about dinner didn't agree with you," Sara said calmly, unbandaging Milla's hand. "Well, this looks good. You've been taking excellent care of this. Your mother was right to leave the stitches in a few more days. But I think they can come out now. You ready?"
Milla nodded, and Sara smiled, taking out a pair of scissors. "I know you've already thrown up and probably don't have anything in your stomach. You want me to get you something to suck on before I start? A lolly or maybe a sugared drink? I don't want you to faint."
"Okay," Milla said softly, and soon Sara reappeared with a glass of juice.
"Now, you just sit there and drink your juice. Don't look, darling."
"Okay." Milla sipped slowly, feeling a slight tugging on her hand.
"Sammy did an excellent job on this. We'll have to wait and see whether you've got any nerve damage. Can you feel this?"
"No. It feels like I have mittens on."
"Sometimes the loss of feeling is temporary. That's what we'll hope, anyway." Sara worked quietly. "There. All done. You can look now."
Milla looked carefully at her hand. The palm was crossed with three jagged lines. "Flatten it out," Sara instructed, and Milla did so. "Does it hurt?"
"Feels stiff."
"It will for awhile. Well. I know you'll be glad to take a real shower again and wash your hair yourself instead of having your mother do it. When you get out of the shower, be sure to rub some good, thick hand lotion in. That'll help it heal faster."
"Thanks, Sara," Milla said faintly.
"You're welcome, ducky." Sara hugged her briefly. "Hope you feel better tomorrow, Milla."
"Thanks."
Milla relocked the door when Sara left. Then she finished packing, turned off the light and lay on the bed.
"Milla?" Michael knocked on the door. He sounded concerned, and Milla stubbornly refused to answer.
"Michael, she's probably asleep." Mami sounded tired and worried, and Milla pinched her lips together.
"Sweet dreams, sweet girl," Michael said softly, and Milla turned over in bed so they wouldn't hear her cry.
It was easy to wait without moving. Mami had taught her how to be still when she'd been about five. And she'd taught her how to be self-reliant when she was six. Michael had taught her how to be patient. So Milla waited one hour. Then another. Then, when she was sure the hotel was asleep, she got up quietly, grabbed her rucksack, and flitted out of the apartment without a sound.
The hotel was silent. Small pools of light from the patio were meant to orient guests if they should wake in the night. Milla drifted up to the front desk, tucking a Hotel Lucia postcard in her pocket and liberating David's car keys from the peg they hung on. She skirted the outdoor lights, fit the elevator key into the elevator and called the car.
The doors opened with a sigh and Milla quietly got in, went to the ground, and sent the car up to the top again, carefully locking the bottom doors to the elevator.
A few minutes later, David's car slowly tracked down the mountain.
***************
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