To Quiet the Little Voice - 14. The Babysitter

The Babysitter.

Ayla pushed herself back against the headboard. She really hated the helpless feeling several pounds of plaster on her leg caused. It was already beginning to take a toll on her moods. Who would have thought you could break your leg by stepping on a darned toy car? But a broken leg is what she ended up with – and not just one bone – she had to do things “right” and break both the tibia and the fibula.

*

“What do you mean I can’t even put my foot down? I’m supposed to hop on crutches for the next six weeks?”

“No, you are supposed to take it easy for the next six weeks! You have a tib/fib fracture. That means you do not have a bone to stand on in that leg till they heal. Putting weight on it will cause distortion and it will never heal properly. You are out of work. You are to keep the leg propped up as much as you can, and LET YOUR FAMILY HELP YOU!” The doctor was obviously exasperated with Ayla. She was not what one would call a cooperative patient. Bryton shook his head.

“Ayla calm down. You know damned well you are going to do exactly what the man says. Why make such a fuss about this?”

“You are not the one being sentenced to six weeks of boredom!”

“Can I take her home now doc? I am sure you would like your emergency room to be free of her ranting.”

The doctor smiled at Bryton. “Please do. If there are any problems, swelling around the ends of the cast and so forth, call the office. We’ll get her in right away.”

Oh wow, Bryton thought. That’s one hell of a smile!

*

“OK –Bry insisted on carrying me in last night and dropped me right into the bed. No one told me how I am supposed to tend to myself around here for the next six weeks,” Ayla thought. She looked at the door to the en-suite bath. It looked like an awful long way for her first solo flight, but her bladder was starting to get insistent.

As she struggled clear of the blankets she realized there was another problem. Her crutches were leaning against the wall by the door, a good 10 feet away. They were further than the bathroom! Swearing under her breath she reached to the bedside table for her cell phone. She tapped her good foot impatiently as she waited for a response.

Ayla launched into her tirade before Bryton could even say hello.

“OK you crazy SOB! You know damn well I am not supposed to put weight on this leg and you leave my crutches 10 foot from my bed?”

Bryton laughed brightly.

“And how else was I supposed to keep you from trying to hop all over the house? Last thing you need is to try going down those stairs in your building and going for coffee on one leg!”

“Well you didn't think about something smart-ass! Just how am I supposed to get to the bathroom?”

“You aren't. You can’t shower with a plaster cast silly!”

Ayla literally growled into the phone. She loved Bryton dearly but he was definitely not the swiftest train on the tracks.

“There are OTHER things a woman does in a bathroom you know!” she shouted.

“Oh. Oh My! I’ll be there in 5 min. I’ll bring sis to help you dress too. I know we are best friends and all but somehow I don’t think being dressed by your gay bestie is your style!”

“Bring Coffee. I definitely need a cup of coffee! As one of my favorite authors once had a character say – ‘there is way too much blood in my caffeine stream’. I NEED a cup!”

*

It took a bit of maneuvering to get Ayla into a presentable state. None of her jeans would go over the plaster. She and Carla, Bry’s sister, finally settled on a flowing mid-calf length skirt. The bathroom was big enough to bring a dining room chair in for her to sit on, and by the time they were done the ladies had the room situated so Ayla could handle things herself in the mornings. Thirty minutes after their arrival the siblings had Ayla settled in the big overstuffed recliner, with her favorite coffee and a cheese Danish on the table next to her, along with a thermos full of refills, her cell phone, the remotes to the TV and stereo, and some snacks.

“OK babe. Now that you are all settled comfortably we need to scoot. I’ll be back to check on you at lunch time. I’m leaving Kayla here.” Bryton laughed maliciously. “New meaning to the word baby sitter!” he smirked as he closed the door behind him.

Ayla looked at Bry’s daughter. Kayla had been adopted at birth and named more or less after her godmother. She was a bright loving little girl of 6, and adored spending time with her favorite “aunt”. Bry always insisted she use the honorific with Ayla. It was his opinion she was as much the child’s aunt as Carla. She watched curiously as Kayla settled her little teddy bear into the chair with her aunt and then grabbed the crutches and ran to the far side of the room.

“Hey! Bring those back here you little imp!”

“Nope. You fell on Jason’s watch when you stepped on his hot wheelies. One owie caused by us kids is bad. I am not gonna let you get another owie when I am watching you! Daddy says you are supposed to stay there till he gets back for lumch.” Ayla could not help but smile at the child's mispronunciations in spite of her irritation. ”Bathroom trips only, and only if you can’t wait for daddy to help you!”