Page 36 of Holly Freakin' Hughes

Hollyfreakin’ Hughes. Battered babysitter.

Icouldn’t focus on myself, though. I had to make sure Anna was okay, although Iwas fairly certain she was doing a whole lot better than I was. She made thatobvious when she stopped her complaining and crawled off my lap to play withher toys, as if nothing happened. Still, I stood up on unsteady legs, afraidthat the pain in my face would send me blacked out on the floor. I managed towalk into the kitchen to fetch an icepack for Anna’s lump, and I returned withmy battered eye completely swollen shut, only able to see through the other.

“Here,Anna. Let’s put this on your—”

Myniece turned to me and her eyes bugged out of her head, her mouth forming apanicked O. She scrambled away from me, backing into her bed and hugging herknees into her chest. What the hell, I thought, and glanced at myself in themirror above her dresser, and—yeah, I would’ve run away from me too.

Theentire socket had swollen to twice its original size and the horrific bruisehad already begun to spread down towards my cheekbone and up to my eyelid. Ireached up to gingerly touch it, pressing lightly, and the pain scorchedthroughout the entire left side of my face.

“OhGod,” I groaned, and went to call my mommy.

***

Momheld the washcloth full of ice to my eye tenderly. “You know, Holly, it couldbe broken.” Her hand held my chin still, glancing over at Anna playing calmlyon the living room floor. “Is Liz on her way home?”

“Itold her not to worry about it,” I said, wincing at the pain. “I cannot believehowbadthis hurts. That kid’s head is made of fucking lead. Do youthink I need to go to the doctor?”

“Ibroke my foot once stepping on a LEGO. Hurt like a son-of-a-bitch for weeks,”Mom reminisced, placing my hand on the freezing cold washcloth before walkingto the fridge for a bottle of water. She handed it to me, along with a pair ofAdvil. “Take these. I’ll stay here with you until Liz gets home and we’llassess the damage then. You might be fine, though. I’m hoping it just looksworse than it is.”

Imumbled something about it definitely hurting worse than it looked, and it sureas hell looked ugly.

Ilaid down on the couch while Mom went to fetch me another bundle of ice, andAnna approached me with fear and regret.

“Isowwy, AntHowwy.”

“Accidentshappen, kiddo,” I said, giving her a brave smile that sent daggers through myface. “I’ll be fine.”

Shehanded Giraffe over to me. “Make youbettah.”

Iclutched the smelly, sticky, raggedy stuffed animal to my chest, instantlyfeeling moved and for maybe the first time, I felt as though I had the best jobin the entire world.

Brokenface and all.

“You’rethe best kid an aunt could ask for, you know that?”

Annasmiled with her little gapped teeth and let out a laugh that would have beencontagious had I not felt like my face might shatter if I so much as giggled.“I know,” she said, stroking my hair the way a mother might touch a child.

Then,just like that, she took off to watch TV while I wondered if I’d ever be ableto watchFrasieragain through my swollen eye.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

HOLLY

“Good golly, Miss Holly! Whathappened to you?” Billasked, spotting me walking through the door. He was busy putting together aHalloween display in the window of the store, and in his hands was aJack-o-Lantern cut out from a piece of plywood. The smile was lopsided and theeyes were different sizes—and it looked as though it were going to be thecenterpiece.

Ohboy.

“Oh,I thought I’d get a jump start on my Halloween costume. I’m going as Rocky.”

Hestared blankly, the joke clearly lost on him, and I told him Anna had decidedto use my face for target practice with her noggin, and he winced his sympathy.“Have you had that checked out?”

Ihad in fact. Mom did me the favor of driving down to the ER, where we enjoyedfive hours in the waiting room before a doctor would see me. Among the pukingdrunks and occasional accident, I felt honored to be the only one there with abattered eye caused by the head of a toddler.

Thedoctor who eventually did see me got a good chuckle out of my misfortune. Hegave me a smile as he poked and prodded at my injury, and proceeded to tell meabout the time his now-grown kid jumped on his groin with so much force, heruptured a testicle. Worst thing he had ever felt in his entire life, heinsisted, and you know what? I was pretty damn sure he wasn’t exaggerating.

Theeye socket was indeed broken, but it was such a minor blow-out fracture, hesent me on my way with strict instructions to use icepacks and a prescriptiondose of ibuprofen every six hours while the pain lasted. He insisted it was ano-big-deal injury and that I wouldn’t have any lasting issues—once theswelling had gone down and the healing began, that is.

Forsuch a “no big deal,” it felt pretty horrible.

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