Page 73 of When We Were Young

I snap out of my daze and rush over to them.

“Lizette!”

Simon looks up at me, and his tear-streaked face breaks my heart. The relief in his eyes breaks it even further.

“Here, I got it, buddy,” I tell him. I fight to keep my voice calm, even as fear of what her arm is going to look like fills me. “Could you go on the other side and take hold of your mom’s other hand for me, so she’s got something to hold onto?”

He nods, his tears have slowed but not stopped.

I glance down at Lizette, and her tear-streaked face shows her obvious surprise that I’m there.

I kneel beside her.

“If I lift it, do you think you can shimmy out from underneath the piece?”

“Mmhmm. I think so.” She controls her voice, but I can tell that she’s in pain.

It’s heavy as hell, but I lift the stone, and she wiggles herself until she clears the area. When I know she’s free, I set the slab safely on the floor so that it won’t fall again.

I assist Lizette to sit up, and she leans with her back against one of the cabinets. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths. When I glance down at her wrist, I’m shocked it’s not significantly deformed, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken, regardless.

“Hey, Simon?” I ask. “We’re gonna help your mom here, but could you do me a favor and go up to your house and get a pillow so we can put her arm on it?”

He glances over at Lizette as if for permission.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. That would be a big help,” she tells him.

“Okay,” he says, sniffling, and then turns and takes off. As soon as he’s out of sight, her tears break free.

“Could you please get me something to wipe my face, so he doesn’t see me crying?”

“Of course. I’ll get you some ice, too. Then we need to sit here for a minute and make a game plan.”

I walk over to the sink and run cold water, then grab a washcloth from the clean pile sitting on the island area, and moisten it.

“Where are your food storage bags? Like gallon-size.”

After she tells me where to find them, I grab one and fill it with ice from the freezer. Then I take it over to her and carefully place it on her wrist. She reaches for the washcloth with her hand on the uninjured side, but I gently guide her hand back onto her lap.

I clean her face and wipe the tear stains away. It occurs to me that I’ve never seen her cry, and it crushes me that it’s happening now.

Simon runs back into the kitchen with the pillow, and I direct him on how to slide it under her arm while I help her lift it. I noticed he’s shaking.

“I’m okay, buddy. It just hurts a little,” Lizette says.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get it off you, Mom.” Simon’s voice trembles.

“Oh no, baby. That was so heavy.”

“Yeah, I almost couldn’t lift it, and I’m a grown man. I could see how hard you were trying, and you were making it move a little, so you must be pretty strong,” I tell him as I kneel next to him.

Without thinking, I take the washcloth and wipe his face as well. When I finish, he sits on the floor next to Lizette and snuggles into her side. She wraps an arm around him and holds him close.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I was here. What happened?”

“They delivered the slab today, and my friend was going to put it in tomorrow, so I foolishly had them lean it against the island. When I was folding the clean towels, I saw it starting to slide. I was afraid it would break, so I dove for it, but I slipped and fell. My wrist was in its path and got stuck under the edge. As you saw, obviously.”