Marsipan Cake and Long Love Letters

Chapter One

"You need to be drinking liquids. However much you think you should be drinking, you need to drink more." Lise stood over her daughter, holding out a bottle of Powerade. The blue liquid made Hanna's stomach turn but she dutifully took the bottle.

"Drink!" Her mother repeated, gesturing that Hanna should actually lift the bottle to her lips. It was a mixed bag, this having her mother living at her house thing. On the one hand, there was no way Hanna could have gotten by without her. But, mothers and adult daughters should not live in the same house. There should be a law about that.

"This is for athletes," Hanna said finally, after one large gulp. "Which I definitely am not and never will be." She motioned to the wheelchair in which she sat, her left leg in a foot to thigh plaster cast decorated with about 20 different renditions of the name "Theo" in large, wobbly letters as well as a variety of eclectic scribblings in both red and orange marker.

"Just drink." Lise pointed at the fridge, "I bought a whole pack."

Hanna lifted the drink to her lips again, but couldn't seem to drink more than a small sip. The pain in her leg was getting more intense, it came in waves, knocked down by pills only to rise and swell mere hours later. It had been two hours since her last dose of pain killers. It would be another hour before she could take more.

Her phone rang.

"Don't answer it. You should rest. It's something stupid, I know it is." Lise muttered from where she sat on the couch, her laptop screen glowing with some Celebrity gossip website.

Hanna answered it.

"Hey, whats up?" She tried to sound nice, but the pain was leaking into her voice so that she sounded irritated and strained. "No, it's just my leg. It hurts." The voice on the other end went on for a while before Hanna replied.

"That was nice of your mom, but I really want him home. Did you eat there or are you making something when you get home?" She laughed at the reply, in the way people laugh to make someone think that they thought they were joking, even though they both know it was no joke.

"Just get a pizza or something then, on the way home?" She hung up a moment later, trying to avoid her mothers eyes because she knew what was coming next.

"Pizza again?"

"He doesn't know much about cooking. Just lay off him, mom. He is trying."

"Yes." Lise hummed, unconvinced.

Hanna didn't want to argue. She should have taken a nap while David and Theo were out, but it was too late now. She felt a constant sense of guilt and dread for being stuck in a wheelchair. It had only been 2 weeks but David's initial reaction had been only concern and his own brand of helpfulness. In many ways, this escalated the guilt for Hanna, watching him fumble around with the washing machine and constantly check their bank account on his phone, a worried crease forming between his eyebrows. In the months it would take for her to recover he would maybe learn to cook properly, but his hair might gray in the process. Her mother's presence every weekend was supposed to relieve the load on David, was supposed to give Hanna a chance to rest guilt free. But somehow her mother seemed to pile more guilt on the whole situation, critiquing David's attempts at domesticity and plaguing Hanna with advice for her well-being.

Hanna wheeled into the bathroom and shut the door. Pulling herself upright, she leaned heavily on the sink, letting her heavy cast rest on the floor. Her lips were chapped, badly. Her mother was right, she needed more fluids. She turned her face first to the right, then the left, examining in the mirror the slightly lighter bruising above her eye and the cut on her forehead. She had cried, after Theo had come to visit her and been frightened by her appearance. It had become less frightening in the 2 weeks she had been home.

She pulled off her T-shirt and bra, then, balancing with one hand on the sink, used one hand to pull off the huge sweatpants and underwear she wore out of necessity. Pulling a trash bag from the roll next to the shower, she covered her cast and taped it securely before hobbling to the shower. Rubbing shampoo hard into her scalp felt like a trip to the spa, the jet of hot water relaxing her muscles slightly.

The conditioner bottle was resting upside down in the far corner of the shower. Hanna contemplated whether the shampoo was enough. It would be nice to feel like a human being for once, her brain mumbled.

It was stupid, she realized later, thinking a small hop in a wet slippery shower would end well, but in the moment she had focused on the conditioner bottle, letting logic take a respite. As she slipped, she held tightly to the shower curtain which held her for a few seconds before ripping free from the clattering plastic rings and depositing Hanna on the bathtub floor, covered in a blanket of wet plastic.

Lise heard a thud, a yell, and came running. She had been on edge since the call from David about Hanna's accident and the dread that lived permanently in her stomach rose up to her throat when she saw Hanna lying there in the tub, covered in the shower curtain.

"Don't do this to me again!" She yelled, and rushed forward to pull Hanna out onto the dingy salmon colored rug.

*I'm okay, mom. I'm okay. Just really embarrassed." Hanna could feel tears rolling down her cheeks, she hoped her mother wouldn't notice, but of course she had. She was a mother, after all.

"Embarrassed of what?" Lise gave her a reproving stare, "being stupid enough to try to shower yourself with that huge thing on your leg?"

"I can't ask for help for everything. I'm tired of it already. I'm angry. I'm so angry, mom." Hanna leaned against Lise's shoulder like she was a young girl again. Covering her face in her hands, she could feel the tears coming faster and harder.

Lise reached across her to where a towel lay folded and ready on the toilet seat.

"Come on, get up. Let's get you dressed. Did you get all the soap out of your hair? Are you sure you're not hurt?" Lise worked efficiently, a master of practical responses and hearty solutions. She rinsed Hannas hair out in the sink, removed the plastic bag from her leg, and rolled her into the bedroom.

"Clean clothes," she said, digging through Hannas drawers for another pair of David's overly large sweatpants, "and lay down and rest. I'll have Theo bring you some pizza when they get home."

"Mom?" Hanna called, but Lise was already on the other side of the door, moving on.

"I know. I'll clean up the mess in the bathroom."

"Mom?" Hanna opened her eyes to see Theo's tiny face mere inches from her own. Seeing his face was like an antidote to the stress and anger that kept threatening to overwhelm her. He smiled when her eyes opened, and his large brown eyes lit up with the kind of joy that five-year-old boys get from being with their mom.

"Momo said to bring you pizza. Dad wanted pepperoni but we got cheese because it's my favorite." He crawled up onto the bed, narrowly missing crawling on Hanna's cast, and snuggled up to her.

"How was Grandma's house?" Hanna asked, wrapping her arms around him.

"Good. Oh! She got me a new game on my iPad. It's a shark game."

"A shark game?"

"Yeah, like chomp, chomp, chomp!" Theo's arms made a large snapping motion as he demonstrated the amazing chomping action in his new game. "Can we watch on my iPad while we eat?"

"Sure, baby, but quiet. I have a little bit of a headache." Theo bounced off the bed, running for the iPad. He was back before Hanna had finished sitting up and rearranging the pillows behind her. He set up the iPad, selected his favorite cartoon, adjusted the volume, then lifted the plates of pizza from the side table placing one on Hanna's lap. She smiled and planted a small kiss on the top of his head. David could learn from him, She thought. But that was unfair. She had to stop listening to her mother.

She was getting really sick of pizza, though.