Tears were now streaming down my cheeks.
“I tried to stop her fall, but it happened so quickly,” Sophia said. “One minute she was walking up the stairs, and the next she was rolling down. I thought I was dreaming.”
“You are dreaming,” I managed. “To lie so.”
She dropped her hands to her hips and shook her head. “I’m not lying! Don’t you dare call me a liar! She’s drunk, Mother. Smell her breath.”
I looked at Tía Isabela. I had drunk that glass of wine with Fani and imagined the scent of it might still be on my lips.
She stepped toward me and stopped when Señora Rosario returned with the ice and placed it on my ankle, which already was looking swollen and red.
“I don’t need to smell anyone’s breath. This is a ridiculous scene. Mr. Garman, take her to emergency care, and tell them to bill me,” she ordered. “You go up to bed, Sophia.”
Sophia smiled contentedly at me. “Yes, Mother. That was what I was going to do before all this stupid commotion.” She turned and went up.
“Lean on me, Delia,” Señor Garman said.
“Keep the ice on it!” Señora Rosario called to us.
I didn’t have to lean on Señor Garman. He practically carried me out of the house and down to the limousine. I sprawled out on the rear seat and closed my eyes. The pain in my ankle was now a dull throbbing rather than a stinging, but it was making me feel nauseous.
“Just relax, Delia,” Señor Garman said, his voice more colored by sympathy than ever. “I’ll get you there quickly.”
He did drive fast, and before I knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot. He came around and this time actually picked me up and carried me into the lobby. There were three other people sitting and waiting: a man with his head in his hands and an ice pack on the back of his neck and a woman with a young child who had been crying.
The receptionist’s eyes widened when Señor Garman carried me up to the counter.
“She has had an accident on a staircase and cannot put any weight on her foot,” he explained.
“Take her in that door,” she said, getting up.
A nurse came around to show him the way. I was placed on a thick cushioned bed.
“Just keep that ice on your ankle,” the nurse said, looking at it, “until the doctor can get to you.”
She asked Señor Garman to go out front and give the receptionist the information.
I couldn’t believe I was there, that everything had happened so quickly. Just a little while ago, I was at the most expensive home and the most wonderful dinner party I could ever imagine. I was happy, excited, and floating on a magic carpet, and then, in an instant, it had all changed.
Of course, my rage was directed at Sophia. Her temper had seized her, and she had been blinded with rage. Then, as always, she dipped into her bank of lies to come up with another excuse and escape from blame.
It took so long for the doctor to come into the examination room I nearly fell asleep. The pain was duller but still quite loud, I thought.
“Well, well,” the doctor said. “What do we have here?”
I started to sit up, and he said just to relax. He looked at the ankle and turned it slightly. I howled with the new, sharper pain.
“How did you do this?” he asked.
I didn’t know whether it would cause even more trouble to tell the truth, so I simply said I had fallen on a stairway and caught my foot.
“You’ll need an X-ray,” he said. “Just relax.”
He went out, and a little while later, the nurse returned with a wheelchair and helped me into it.
She took me to the X-ray room and helped me lie down. The technician set up my foot and took the pictures. I was then wheeled back to the room to wait. It seemed like another hour before the doctor returned.
“You don’t have a broken bone,” he said. “It’s only a very bad sprain. You’re lucky.”