Prentice, Jason, Debs, Annie, Dougal, Fergus and Prentice and Fiona’s families (not to mention Isabella) were relieved.
A miracle.
Isabella had never witnessed a miracle. In all her life, the only kind of miracle she’d experienced was Dougal and Annie finding their way back to each other.
Isabella was used to tragedy and disaster. She didn’t know what to do with a miracle.
She found she didn’t have a great deal of trouble coping.
The last week had gone by in a blur.
If she wasn’t at the hospital with Sally, she was at the market (there always seemed to be something they needed in the house that wasn’t in the house, they ran out of salt, they ran out of laundry detergent, they ran out of furniture polish, it was never-ending).
If she wasn’t at the market, she was mopping, sweeping, vacuuming, doing laundry, ironing, stripping beds, making beds or dusting. Prentice, it was obvious, had done very little (if any) housework since she’d left.
If she wasn’t doing that, she was (at Prentice’s surprising request) running Jason to school, from school or to football practice in her rental car when Prentice couldn’t do it because he was at work or had to be at the hospital for one of Sally’s tests.
If she wasn’t doing that, she was spending time with Sally or Fergus and Annie.
Another, smaller miracle had occurred that week too.
For, when she was in town or waiting with the mothers and fathers for football practice to end, the villagers didn’t avoid her or give her nasty looks. People she knew way back when (and some she didn’t know), smiled at her when they caught her eye. Some said hello. A few even engaged her in conversation, asking about Sally, Jason and Prentice and even how she, Isabella, was bearing up under the strain (and offering help!).
Isabella figured this about face had a good deal to do with the fact that her father humiliated her in front of the entire village.
Which, in itself, was refreshed humiliation.
However, Isabella was too exhausted to focus on that. Instead, she focused on their kindness which was a great deal easier to deal with.
Even though her days were mentally and physically strenuous, her nights were spent tossing and turning. She rarely slept and most of the time forgot to eat (probably due to the fact that she wasn’t hungry).
Isabella was running on empty. She knew this but had no clue what to do about it or any time to come up with a solution.
Except when she was tossing and turning but most of that time was spent thinking about Prentice sleeping in his own bed under the same roof not far away and how much she’d like to crawl out of her bed and into his and what she’d like to do with him there. She thought both about the semi-appropriate things, like giving him the affection he surely needed, and the very inappropriate things, like putting her hands and mouth on him.
Likely, this didn’t help her sleeplessness.
She decided not to think about that either.
“Miss Bella,” Sally called, taking Isabella from her thoughts. “When we get home, are you going to teach me how to be ambidextry?”
Isabella started to answer but Jason turned (again) and corrected (again), “Ambidextrous.”
Sally glared at him, losing patience, “Jace! That’s what I said! Am-bee-dex-try!”
Isabella leaned toward the girl, wrapped her hand behind her head, gently pulled her close and kissed her shining hair.
Then she answered, “I’ll do my best.”
And she would, in the few days she was going to remain there.
Sally was gaining strength. She’d broken her right forearm which was in a cast thus Isabella had told her she’d need to learn to be ambidextrous while her arm healed. She’d also had a couple of ribs broken which they’d been told would heal quickly. She’d had a number of deep contusions which were fading.
Other than that, shockingly (and thankfully), she was fine.
Therefore, Isabella reckoned, she’d get Sally settled. This, she decided, would take a day or two (or three). And then she’d get out of Prentice’s hair.
It must be said she didn’t want to be out of Prentice’s thick, dark hair.