His Twenty-Four House Rules Only Trapped Me

"Kayla, deal with it for now. I'll be back in ten minutes."

I looked down at my hand. The blisters were already swelling up.

"You're going back?"

"Marie's client decides half a year of the tearoom's revenue."

"And my hand? Is it not as important as her client?"

He gripped the wheel tighter.

"Don't say things you don't mean. I'll be quick."

I got out. The instant the car door shut, he was already turning around.

The clinic doctor took one look and frowned.

"This needs a hospital. The burn covers a fair amount of skin."

I took a cab to the ER myself.

While the doctor cleaned the wound, he asked, "Where's your family?"

I said, "Busy."

The doctor sighed.

"Change the dressing on schedule, keep it away from water, or it'll scar."

I looked at my bandaged hand, and suddenly thought of Rule Nine in the Twenty-Four House Rules.

A woman's hands and feet must be clean, no scars, nothing that costs her dignity.

What a joke. They wanted my hands to look dignified, but didn't care whether they hurt.

That evening, Irvin finally came to the hospital.

He had medicine in his hand.

"What did the doctor say?"

"It'll scar."

For a moment, guilt crossed his face.

"I'm sorry. That client this afternoon was just too important."

I said nothing. He set the medicine down.

"Marie asked me to buy this. She was scared out of her mind too."

I looked at the bag. Two tubes of burn cream.

One already opened, one new.

On my phone, Agatha had just posted to her feed.

Marie James, sitting on the tearoom sofa, the same brand of burn cream by her hand.

The caption: "Marie was so frightened her face went pale. My brother brought her the medicine first. So sweet of him."

I stared at that line, and suddenly even the pain felt like more than I needed.

Irvin was still talking. "Marie says she didn't do it on purpose. When you get home, don't bring it up with my mom. It's opening day. Don't make things unpleasant for everyone."

My phone rang right then. It was the aide from the nursing home.

I picked up. Her voice was urgent.

"Miss Swanson, your grandmother had a fall today. The doctor says it doesn't look good. You'd better come back tomorrow."

I bolted upright.

"How is she now?"

"Still under observation. She may have to be transferred to the county hospital."

The next morning, the aide called again.

This time her voice was shaking.

"Miss Swanson, the old lady passed out again last night. We're moving her to the county hospital now, and the doctor says we need to pay a deposit first."

I called Irvin immediately.

"Transfer me the eighty thousand I left with you."

That was the emergency money I'd set aside for Grandma, the money I'd meant to use after the wedding to hire her a better aide.

Irvin had said the interest was higher in his investment account.

His voice dropped a little.

"That money. I lent it to Marie for a while, to cover her cash flow."

For a second my mind went blank.

"What did you say?"

"Her tearoom just opened. The payments to suppliers are tight. I figured the wedding's been pushed back, so we wouldn't need that money for now."

I laughed out loud.

"Irvin, that's my grandmother's life-saving money."

"I know. I'll figure something out."

"When?"

"Maybe not today. Tomorrow…"

I cut him off.

"My grandmother is in the hospital right now."

Marie's voice came through from his end.

"Irvin, the supplier's here."

Irvin lowered his voice.

"Kayla, I really can't get away right now. Put it on your credit card for now, or borrow from a friend."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"Then drive me back to the county town."

"I have to be with Marie to sign the contract."

"Give me the car keys."

"I drove the car out."

The rain pounded against the window. I listened to the faint voices on his end, and felt nothing but how absurdly pitiful I was.