Dear Red

Seventy Three

At 11am the following morning, I drove up to the front door at home. It hadn't taken long to get my arm fixed and bandaged after which I had slept off in a private hospital room under a heavy dose of pain killers. Lots of nurses had flooded my room with good wishes in the morning and somehow, a vase of roses had found its way to my bedside. News of my accident had spread beyond the nurses' station to the executive suite on the top floor the result of which was my immediate dismissal from my duties until my hand healed. At the moment, a break sounded like heaven and Josie hadn't wasted time in letting other hospitals and clinics know that I was indisposed.
I hoisted my handbag onto my shoulder, pushed my car keys in and tucked the vase of roses in my arm before I walked into the house. At first, I didn't see the person seated in the living room facing the front door. But that oversight was rectified in an instant.
"I was just about to dial the police," came a deep voice in a hard tone. I spun on my heel and nearly lost my vase on the floor in fright.
"Alex!" I exclaimed as I caught my breath. He was massaging his neck and stifling a yawn. It looked like he had slept there when he returned from his club appearance. But while the rest of his body caught up from lethargy, his eyes assessed me with a cool hard stare.
"You scared me," I said as I exhaled shakily and waved my arm slightly to encompass him seated facing the entryway.
"Let's not talk about scares, precious. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't inexplicably spilled blood all over the kitchen floor and then left," he snapped.
That got my back up instantly. I was standing injured in the entryway, dizzy from painkillers and getting flak from my sibling.
"Yeah, well, if you had been home when I had the accident, you would know why there was blood there," I retorted.
Alex barked out a harsh laugh. "Let me get this straight: Princess Bagaine not only wants us to pick up from where she dropped off but she also wants me to turn my schedule around to suit her hours. If you think I'm going to sit home twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the crumbs of your time after you save the world, you've got another thing coming," he said.
He stood up to his impressive height. My heart ached at his words but I had built up steam of my own.
"No one is stopping you from doing what you've been doing. Irrespective of my misdeeds, I'm your sister. I should be able to get a ride to the emergency room when my hand is torn and bleeding from an accident. I should be able to call you when I regain consciousness in the hospital so you could bring me breakfast or send a car to pick me up. Instead, I get to drive myself to the hospital in a haze of pain and agony and my surgical assistant is the only one around to give me something to eat," I said.
"And I repeat: you walked away from this sibling relationship. You stopped talking to me, you stopped reaching out and you decided to focus away from me. All our contact for the past ten years was initiated by me and when I stopped, you were quite content to go on with your life. That told me all I needed to know about how you felt. So don't come back and throw it on me when you caused this," he said.
"It hurt me as much as it hurt you to lose our closeness. I was young, stupid and guilty. I couldn't be the older sister you needed; a good example to follow. I made mistakes with you but I would like to fix them. I see now that you had a right to a sibling no matter what form they came in. None of us are perfect anyway and..." I said wearily but got cut off.
"Tell it to a priest," he said curtly and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

About the only thing a person could do with so much free time on their hands was to attend practice for the St. Xavier celebrations. I thought seriously about crying off because of the injury but I would not let Melissa or Esther have the satisfaction of claiming I was hiding away.
When I entered the auditorium, I was instantly surrounded by fellow dancers spouting good wishes. I leaned completely into Ricky's warm hug and shamelessly absorbed love and support from wherever I could get it. Melissa came in followed by Esther. They clapped to get the attention of the crowd of dancers around me. I looked down at my arm and saw that they had signed all over the bandage. I smiled as I disengaged from Ricky.
"Let's get on the stage and warm up, guys," Melissa said as she climbed the stairs onto the stage.
Esther smirked at me. "How's the pretend pity party going, Bagaine? You'd better milk it for what it's worth before Pan African starts looking for their stolen bandages," she called out. Some dancers glanced between us and whispers broke out. Melissa stood glaring with arms crossed at centre stage.
All manner of vile words sprang to my tongue but I couldn't-wouldn't-let them have the satisfaction of making me lose my temper.
"Coming, love?" Ken said as he stood beside me with his hand out to take mine. I slipped my hand in his and we walked up to the stage to join the other dancers. Esther looked put out that I did not rise to her bait but I quickly learned that she had other plans in mind.
Having taken position, I glanced up at Ken and smiled my thanks. He nodded but I read curiosity in his gaze as he looked at my arm.
Warm ups alone were grueling. Esther saw to it that we stretched every muscle of our bodies for 45 minutes. With only one hand to rely on, my body ached within a quarter of an hour but not a soul could tell with the brave face I had going. My desperate attempts to breathe were not lost on Ken however and more than once, he tried to ease the weight off my bad arm.
Another instructor called off Esther's warm-ups citing the shortage of time. I was not the only dancer to breathe a sigh of relief. But true relief was a long way from coming. Melissa took over from Esther and this time, the boss lady would not be stopped. We did the routine twice without comment from her. Ken was exceedingly gentle about the twists, turns and flips but the pain was still excruciating.
When it was time to execute a summersault off his shoulder, I groaned. It had been hard enough to get up. Ken's arm tensed on my thigh in silent warning. But I was past listening anymore. Health be damned; I was not letting these girls get the best of me. Thus far, we had been one of a few couples that could execute the summersault off perfectly and so we were placed front stage. Esther and her partner were to my left. When the cue came, I hit all the points but tears raced down my cheeks. The twinges from earlier had become full-on aches. Ken caught me up at the earliest opportunity and twirled us to the back; nodding at another couple to take our place. The unexpected movements made a few dancers lose their steps and Melissa cut the music.
"Let's take it again from here," she called showing a move that was prior to the deadly flip. If I needed any indicator that she was aware of my discomfort, I had it. When I stepped away from Ken to take our position again, he caught me around the waist and drew me back.
"No," he said in a voice that stopped any argument, "Whatever you did to your wrist, I'll not let you do worse to it now. I'll protect you from them and from yourself if I have to."
Esther and Melissa couldn't see us at the back. I couldn't let them push me down. But the pain was debilitating and I didn't know how much more I could take. I let Ken weave us among the dancers; this time with extra care such that we all kept to our steps. He lifted me to his shoulders and brought me down in time to the music; taking all my weight with each move. His gentleness brought tears to my eyes. What was I doing fighting meaningless battles with girls who didn't care about me? What about the rest of the country that relied on me? I could break my bones and bleed out and it wouldn't be enough for Melissa or Esther.
The rest of the practice went smoothly when Melissa realized that Ken fully intended to take my weight for all the complex moves. I did what I could and got reassuring nods and smiles from the dancers around us. We came to a hot, sweaty, exhausting finish. Cheers rang out across the stage. Melissa started giving instructions for the next practice. I rose up and pressed a kiss to Ken's cheek in gratitude for his support. Ignoring the sweat dripping off my body, he pulled me close for a tight hug; pressing my face into the crook his neck. I drew back and slipped away while dancers stretched lightly and listened to Mel.
Backstage, I wiped my face and reached for my shirt. I had put it off for practice and remained in a vest. I managed to get both arms in while groaning. The buttons were another story. The fingertips on my injured hand were slightly blue and absolutely painful. I decided to get at least two buttons in for decency and dash to the car.
With my head bowed, I didn't see the person that entered the room until their shadow fell across me. I glanced up. Ken's tender gaze met mine. He reached over and wiped the tears that I didn't know were running down my cheeks.
"You ready to tell me what happened?" he asked softly. I looked up to fight back other tears. He reached for my shirt and drew me up close to him.
"Accident," I said on a shaky breath as I was enveloped by his powerful scent. He started buttoning up my shirt.
"Where?" he asked.
"Home. I slipped while making a cup of tea and landed on the shattered cup," I explained. He had finished with the buttons and drew me closer to feather my face with kisses from my forehead and down to my cheeks as he rubbed his hands up and down my arms in a light massage.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. I stood immobilized by his onslaught of tenderness. Suddenly the spell was broken when one of the DJs stuck their head in the door.
"Rugamo! I need some help with the system," he said. Ken nodded and turned away from me. Seconds after he left, I grabbed my bag and made my way to the car.