84 Ribbons (22 page)

“Sometimes.”

“Your dieting will slow your healing.”

“I don’t diet. When I dance I’m not hungry.”

“Lugging around a cast takes energy. I’m waiting on the blood tests we did yesterday. Stop by my office next week. Unless I’m mistaken, you’ll need iron injections.”

When Dr. Wycoff left, Marta stared after him.
Best not tell her mom about this complication. She didn’t want to sit through her mom’s I-told-you-so frown, even if she might be right.

Within an hour’s time, Marta sat in the back seat of her mom’s Fordor Ford. She rubbed her hand along the upholstery. “I like this car. It smells new. When did you get it?”

“Last month. Robert found it in the classifieds. He says it’s well cared for considering it’s close to eight years old. And the price was right. Are you comfy back there? I never sit in the back seat.”

“It’s fine. I can stretch out my legs. Not many people have four-door cars. What happened to our other car?”

“It needed a new engine. Robert said I should get a newer car rather than keep putting money into it.”

“Do you see a lot of your Robert?”

“Yes and no. He works swing shift in the shipyard. We go to movies, play Canasta with friends, and try out restaurants together. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.”

“It’s time you had someone to take you places,” Marta said.

“Yes. But, you know he’ll never replace your dad.”

“Hm-m. He changes things though, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what life is,” her mom said, “a string of unexpected changes.”

Marta believed that. But could she handle this latest change? Everyone expected her to act strong. She’d need to push through, even if it meant putting on a stage smile.

Lynne met them at the sidewalk in front of the boarding house holding a bouquet of yellow roses. “Welcome home.”

Marta looked around. “Where’s your car?”

“In the shop. They loaned me that yellow clunker parked down the street. Mine got towed to the shop two days ago. The mechanic says he can keep it going a little longer. Anyway, I’m the official corps de ballet flower committee.”

“They’re lovely. Did they
really
send these?”

Lynne shrugged. “Of course they did. They just don’t know it yet.”

Together Lynne and Marta’s mom helped Marta from the car and carried her and her wheelchair up the boarding house steps to the porch. Marta bit her tongue as they jostled her. She’d need to get used to being dragged around. Time for a stage smile.

Once inside, Marta inhaled the scent of Mrs. B.’s lemon furniture polish. She hadn’t noticed it since the day she arrived five months ago. Why now?

Her mom and Lynne stood watching her. “Thanks for getting me home.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a featherweight,” Lynne said, “or we’d have had to leave you on the sidewalk.”

Marta smiled at Lynne’s attempt at humor, then she inched the wheelchair forward. “Thank heavens the room down here is empty. Otherwise I’d be a captive upstairs.”

“The captive upstairs. Great title for a steamy romance,” Lynne said.

“Just what I need.” Marta forced a second smile as she pushed herself along the hallway and into the wall. She took a deep breath. Her mom stepped forward, straightened the chair, and pushed her into the bedroom.

Now she remembered why she’d passed on the room last fall; scant light made it through the window. This depressing room with flocked wallpaper would be hers until she could climb the stairs.

“We brought down your bedding, clothes, and a few odds and ends,” her mom said. “I’ll get whatever else you want later. Right now, let’s get your leg elevated. Do you want help, honey?”

“Maybe. Let me try first.”

The bed faced the door. Marta inched beside it. She inhaled and tried to lift herself. Without her left hand, the simplest maneuvers remained impossible. She sank back in the wheelchair. “I’ll take your help.”

Her mom and Lynne lifted her and set her gently on her temporary bed in her temporary room with her not-so-temporary cast.

Lynne checked her watch and backed out the door. “I’ve got to go.”

“Date?”

“No. Damien is holding rehearsals for the understudy and solo dances for
Giselle
before our regular rehearsals resume next week. I don’t want Miss Perfect Marguerite to get any ideas. I plan to beat her out. Be a good patient. I’ll stop by tonight.”

“Lynne?”

She stopped at the door and turned back toward Marta.

“I didn’t mean to be ungrateful back in the hospital. I felt frustrated and...”

“Forget it, Marta. I’ll be back later. We can talk.” Lynne waved and closed the door.

“She’s a good friend.” Her mom placed two pillows under Marta’s leg and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Now, try to rest.”

“That’s about all I
can
do. Thanks for being here, Mom.”

The stillness in the house allowed Marta to hear her mom’s light, effortless step on the stairs. Standing, bending, walking. She’d taken these simple movements for granted, until now.

Lynne returned after dinner. “Has Madame called or come by?”

“No. Damien called before you arrived. He’s sympathetic but said I’m on leave; no pay, of course. I can re-audition after my doctor releases me.”

“That’s good news,” Lynne said. “Gives you plenty of time. Are you staying here or going home?”

“Staying. You can be my spy and keep watch over things at the company. And if I send a sample of my hand sewing with you to show to Rose, she might have work for me once my hand heals. That will keep me busy and help pay my bills.”

“Good idea.” Lynne stood at the mirror and applied lipstick.

“Has Bartley come back? I’m worried that we haven’t heard from her.”

“She called but didn’t tell me much.” Lynne straightened Marta’s covers and sat on the side away from Marta’s injured foot. “When I told her about your injury, she burst into tears and said she’d see us soon.”

“Lynne, I’m sorry about how I acted in the hospital. I’ve been so frustrated since the accident, and then my mom started talking about eating.”

“I understand, but you know she’s right, don’t you?”

Marta nodded. “It’s hard to eat when everything is falling apart.”

“It’s not falling apart. It’s going to be okay.”

Her mom knocked and entered the room with a tray of sweet-smelling pecan bread and steaming hot tea. “Thought you ladies might like a little snack.”

“Thanks, but I’ve gotta run.” Lynne stood and put on her coat. “Got a date I rescheduled several times since before our Nutcracker tour.”

“Must be special. Try not to scare this one away,” Marta said.

“I only scare away the icky ones. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Her mom poured two cups of tea and sat in a nearby chair. “I hope you don’t mind, but I straightened a few things in your room. I love your view.”

“I miss that view already. I don’t plan on staying in this dungeon any longer than necessary.”

“You won’t be here long, especially if you follow your doctor’s orders.”

Marta’s first bite into the moist bread melted in her mouth. She smiled until her gaze settled on the dresser mirror across the room. A ghost with sunken cheeks stared back at her. She turned away with a shiver and set down her tea.

“Ugh. I’m a mess. My hair looks awful.”

Her mom retrieved a brush. “Lean forward. Let me untangle those curls.”

She ran the brush through Marta’s hair. Down and down, following each stroke with her hand. Marta closed her eyes and swayed with the light pull of her hair and the repeating movement of the brush.

“Lynne is always bustling away,” her mom said. “Is it nervous energy, or is she looking for mister right?”

“Both, I think. She’s a whirlwind, busy every minute. Her energy gives me energy. I also think she’s lonely and wants a guy like Steve to spend time with her.”

“You haven’t heard from him yet, have you?”

“No. I don’t think he knows about my fall. I’m sure he’ll come over once he knows what happened.”

The next afternoon, Marta sat thumbing through the scrapbook. Anything to speed up the long hours of sitting. Her mom stood, straightening the clothes she’d brought down from Marta’s upstairs closet.

The front door of the boarding house opened, then slammed shut. Marta checked the clock. Too early for boarders returning from work.

Footsteps traveled from the hall to the common room and back to the hall.

Her mom opened Marta’s door. “I’ll check,” she said and walked into the hall.

“Marta?” Steve’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Are you here? Marta?”

Steve. Marta’s heart raced. He’d come.

“She’s in here,” her mom said.

Steve hurried into the bedroom, nearly bowling over her mom. He carried a bouquet of white roses.

“I came as soon as I could.” He handed the bouquet to her mom and moved to the side of the bed. He caressed Marta’s hair, then eased down on the floor beside the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Marta shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

“What happened anyway?” Steve peeled her fingers away from her face, kissing each finger. “Marta?”

She told him what she remembered, filling in details that Lynne relayed to her over the past few days. Steve held her hand and watched her face as she spoke.

“I’m, I’m...” She  shook her head. “I’m s-sorry about the ra-railing.”

“Forget the railing. I thought you and Lynne decided not to come. I figured a hungry bear poking around broke it. You guys didn’t leave a trace you’d been there.”

“We hadn’t unpacked the car or turned on lights yet. I thought I’d bring in wood and start a fire while Lynne drove back to the store. The door locked when I went out on the porch.”

“That explains it. I wish we had phone service to the cabin. If I’d known you were injured, I’d have driven down. My friends stayed until late Sunday night, so I didn’t get home to read Lynne’s note until after midnight. Then I had an early class and a council hearing this afternoon. But now I’m all yours.”

Marta relaxed. “It’s okay. You came when you could.”

“Why didn’t Lynne drive up and tell me?”

“Her car’s in the shop.”

Steve eyed her bandaged hand and her leg. “How long will you be in a cast?”

“Seven weeks.”

“That will go by fast; you’ll see.” Steve checked his watch. “I’m really sorry, but I can only stay a minute. I need to check in at the paper before deadline. I’ll come back for a longer visit tonight and tomorrow evening, if you want.” He brushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry this happened. Be brave, okay?” He backed out of the room and closed the door.

She stared at the closed door. Right. More advice. First Lynne, now Steve. Why did everyone pat her on the head like an injured puppy? And why did he say he was all hers when he didn’t bother to call her this morning or during the day? And then when he did come, he only stayed for a few minutes? How was that being all hers? Didn’t he realize how lonely she’d be cooped up in a dusky bedroom hour after hour? Didn’t he realize she missed him?

Her mom entered the room carrying a vase filled with the white roses in one hand and a bulky ice pack in the other. “Steve is so thoughtful, bringing flowers. Why did he leave in such a hurry?”

“He has a deadline.”

Her mom placed the vase on the dresser and readjusted the roses. “I imagine school and work keep him busy.” She fluffed the pillows under Marta’s cast and placed the ice pack around her bandaged left hand. “How’s that? Comfortable?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I’ve been thinking about my bills. I’ll need a job once I’m able to get around.”

“Your savings will cover your rent for awhile. The hospital bills will get paid when we can pay them. The important thing is for you to mend. I’d love for you to come home to recover. But if you stay here, let your friends and Mrs. B. help you get organized.”

Organized. That was her mom’s priority. Organized for what? She turned away. “If my friends stop by tonight, please send them home. I can’t handle any more sympathy right now.”

“Sure, darling. Steve, too?”

Marta nodded and leaned against the mound of pillows behind her head. What did she want to do? Maybe she should go home. Staying here she’d be alone and lonely. But if she left, Madame would think she’d quit. Either way, she needed to deal with her lead weight stocking and find ways to cope on her own.

Over the next hour she heard voices in the hallway. Her mom sent away the boarders, as well as Lynne. Kind of a nasty trick, but she’d scream if she had to listen to one more “I’m sorry” or see Lynne’s apologetic face.

Then Steve knocked and stuck in his head. “I convinced your mother I needed to see you, and she gave in. Okay if I come in for a couple of minutes?”

“I guess.” Marta blinked to hold back her tears. Maybe he’d be more sympathetic now that he’d come back.

He kissed her hair and her cheek, then sat on the floor talking to her about  the friends that came to the cabin, about playing in the snow and missing her. They’d started talking about their next article for the paper when the pain pills kicked in. When she woke, the room was dark and she was alone.

The loneliness hung on her like an icy cloak. She realized another feeling spreading through her: drinking juice or tea after dinner was a bad idea. She turned on the nightstand lamp, looked at the bedpan, paused, then scooted to the edge of the bed. Enough of the bedpan. Time to be independent and use the bathroom next door.

19

M
arta struggled into the wheelchair and backed up to open the door. Bang. She hit one wall. Bang; she hit another. She couldn’t reach the door handle.

Her arm and back muscles ached from working the wheels. She felt the urge to use the toilet grow stronger. She closed her eyes and prepared for one more assault.

“Do you want help, Marta?” Mrs. B. stood in the doorway wearing her fluffy robe. She blinked repeatedly as if clearing away her tiredness. ”That looks difficult with only one hand to push yourself.”

“It is. I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“No, no. I’m up nights. Heard a noise and decided to check the house. Let me help you.”