“She’s an angel from heaven,” Mikey answered.
“Really?” Sally breathed.
Isabella disregarded this, poured the peas into the bowl Sally was mixing and, attempting to shift the conversation, advised, “Be careful now, stir it gently. You don’t want to smush up the peas too much.”
Prentice decided against going with Isabella’s lame attempt at changing the topic of conversation.
“Florence Nightingale wasn’t an angel from heaven, Sally. She was a nurse,” Prentice informed his daughter.
“As was Bella when Annie was sick,” Mikey put in.
“You’re a nurse?” Jason asked Isabella.
“No,” Isabella answered, having put the colander in the sink, she was opening the bag of pasta.
“I don’t get it,” Jason muttered.
“Neither do I,” Prentice added.
“Jason,” Mikey started and Isabella turned to him and shook her head but he took no notice of her, “a long time ago, Annie was in a terrible car crash. Did you know that?”
Sally had stopped smushing and Isabella couldn’t see her face but she could see Jason’s.
“Mikey,” Isabella said softly.
“Well, she’s all right now. Everyone can see that,” Mikey defended.
Isabella tightened her fists and let her glance slide to Prentice who was silently watching Mikey, obviously not going to intervene.
She turned to the boiling water on the stove and poured in the noodles.
“I know about it. Mum told me that’s why she limps sometimes and has that scar on her face,” Jason said quietly.
“Yes, well, back then,” Mikey continued, “she was really sick. And she was really sad. And she didn’t want to get better.”
“Why wouldn’t she want to get better?” Jason asked.
“Because she was sad and being sad makes you do silly things,” Mikey answered. “She wouldn’t listen to anyone. Wouldn’t go to the hospital so they could make her better. So, Bella made her go to the hospital. Three times a week she showed up at Annie’s house and took her there herself. Every other day, she went to Annie’s house and made her do her exercises so she could get strong and fit. Annie was sad and upset and she didn’t like this and she could be mean to Bella. But Bella didn’t care. She took every mean thing Annie had to dish out, and there was a lot, bucko, let me tell you. But it didn’t penetrate our girl here. She took every mean thing Annie threw at her and she helped her friend get better. Like a nurse. Like an angel from heaven.”
When Mikey got close to the end of his story, he was whispering. When he stopped talking, the room was silent. Isabella ignored it, her back to the room and she stirred the noodles.
After several long moments, Mikey called, “Bella?”
“Can we stop talking about Annie’s accident?” Isabella softly asked the noodles.
More silence.
Then, also speaking softly, Prentice ordered, “Jason, set the table, mate.”
“Okay, Dad,” Jason replied quickly.
Isabella would have given Prentice a grateful look if he existed in her world at that moment.
Since he didn’t and only the noodles did, she continued to stir them.
“Are we having pudding?” Sally asked her back.
Isabella took in a deep breath, turned down the noodles, allowed the family home in the wilds of Scotland and its inhabitants to penetrate her mental health fortress and turned to smile at the girl.