But Jake was already standing and making his way over. “Jake, please don’t. I said I’ve got it…”
And then he caught his crutch on the edge of the rug. He felt it because his eyes widened in fear, but he was moving too quickly to catch himself in time.
“Jake!” Olivia screamed.
She leapt to her feet, dropping the paper towels, just as he crashed onto his side on the floor. His bad leg remained up in the air, but he took the force of the fall on his shoulder, and the noise that emanated from his chest was primal. “Oh my God.” Olivia rushed to where he lay.
Luci started to howl.
Olivia knelt beside Jake, afraid to touch him. “Are you okay?”
Jake grimaced, rolling onto his back, groaning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
“Your leg!” Olivia pressed her hands to his face, leaving a blue thumbprint on each cheek. “Did you hit it?”
“No,” Jake managed. His voice was a whisper. “But it jolted. Everything.”
Slowly, Olivia helped him to roll onto his back, where he lay catching his breath. “Don’t move,” she warned. “Let’s assess the damage. Oh God, baby.”
Eventually he pulled himself up to a sitting position. A sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead.
“You’re in pain,” she said.
“I just want to go to bed.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder at the stairs. “We need to get you back on the couch. Here, let me help. Then we’ll get ice.”
Jake shook his head. He was angry and humiliated.
By the time she got him on the couch, the pan on the stove had filled the kitchen with smoke. The alarm went off, sending Buster running again. Luci hadn’t moved from her trail of spilled paint. Olivia went to her, scooped her up, and carried her to the kitchen. She grabbed the burning pan of eggs with one hand and tossed it in the sink. Which only made Luci cry harder.
“It’s okay,” Olivia said, sitting her on the counter. “Shhhh.” She stripped her feet of the wet blue-stained socks, and tossed them in the sink, too. Then she ran the water and washed Luci’s hands, watching blue paint splash onto the ruined eggs. “Luci,” she said, when she was done. She took her daughter’s hands. “Luci, please. You have to start talking to Mommy.”
It was wrong. Telling your child to talk only silenced them further. She knew it, and she chewed the inside of her cheek as the words tumbled out. But she said it again, her hands trembling with anger. She was squeezing Luci’s hands, probably too tight, but she couldn’t stop. “Please, talk to me,” she pleaded.
Tears sprang to Luci’s eyes and Olivia let go.
Luci spun away from her and ran upstairs. Buster, made uneasy by all the commotion, scampered up behind her. “Baby, I’m sorry!” Olivia cried after her. Everything was falling apart.
Jake grabbed a pillow and hurled it across the room. It hit a table lamp that wobbled precariously, but mercifully did not fall.
Olivia spun around. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t take this anymore!” His cheeks flushed with effort and regret. “It’s my fault. I didn’t know what she was trying to say. Why won’t she talk to me?” He was shouting now, and Olivia went very still.
“Youwant her to talk?”
“I’m sorry.” Jake covered his face with his hands. “Jesus, Liv. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I know it’s not her fault. Or yours.”
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, Olivia felt her heart pounding back to life against her ribs. She would not cry.
“Olivia, please.”
“NO!” she barked at him. “Not another word.” This man she thought she knew, she thought she loved. He didn’t understand any of it. And if he didn’t understand it by now…
Frenzied, she paced the cottage, unsure what to do first. She needed to check on Luci. She also needed to get the hell out of there. Wreckage was everywhere. The sink was teeming with pots, paint, and the remains of their spoiled lunch. Without thinking, she ripped a hand towel from the nearest hook and headed for the spilled paint. She’d clean it up, get her child, and go. It was when she got to the table that she got a good look at what Luci had painted.
The page was splattered in blue flecks, but she could still make out the artwork. There were three people: a woman with brownhair, a little girl with brown pigtails, and a man, holding hands. And a brown-and-white spotted dog.
