Still no sign of sickness at all, so I'm going to assume that I'm not going to get the chicken pox. Here's a shorter than usual chapter for you all. It's short because every time I tried to add more to it it just didn't seem right. Even changing scene was giving me weird, delete-it feelings. So I decided short was best.

Chapter 9

Some events happen in the blink of an eye. They're here and gone and over with before you even know what's happened. Others drag on so slowly that its as if you're in a slow motion film. Every movement is exaggerated and its almost as if gravity is an idea that exists only in your mind. Usually, the events that go by quickly are the ones you want to savour, like eating ice cream. Unfortunately, the ones that pass by in a frame by frame manner are usually the events we would rather didn't happen.

This was one of those times.

I was stood in the doorway to the Manoso dining room, one hand propped against the door frame as an extra bit of insurance that I didn't fall over while Carlos stowed my wheelchair out of the way. The dining room was small enough without trying to fit everyone around it, let alone making room for my chair. So I had decided to ditch it for the meal. Celia and Mama Manoso had tried to argue that they could rearrange the chairs so that it would fit, but I just shook my head and met my husbands gaze.

Stephanie will be fine," Carlos had reassured them. "I'll make sure of it."

So there I was, waiting for the love of my life to return and quite literally sweep me off my feet. Lope and Natanael, Carlos's older brothers, were already at the table, battering back and forth in rapid-fire Spanish so I couldn't join in. Celia herded her husband and teenage son through the doorway that connected the dining room and kitchen and in a move so fluid and familiar it had to be genetic, placed the basket of rolls on the table and slapped each of her brothers upside the head. Her comment was equally rapid as she seemed to admonish them and gesture to me. The men looked over, saw me standing there -probably with a really concentrated expression on my face - and started apologusung. In English, thank God, though the fact that they were both talking at the same time meant that I still had no idea exactly what they were saying.

After a moment or so I held up a hand and took a stab in the dark. "Its okay," I told them. "You don't have to apologise for speaking Spanish. I guess I should make more of an effort to learn anyway."

Celia shook her head and started around the table to me. "Its not that," she said, glancing over he shoulder. "Although, now that you mention it, that was quite rude of them."

"I've learned to expect that from the pair of them," I informed her, recalling Christmas a few years earlier when they had decided it would be funny to put ice down my back. Admittedly, it was a little bit fun to get payback on them, but the verdict was still set to rude.

"They should have helped you to a seat," Celia informed me. "Clearly you're in no shape to get there yourself."

I started to way that it was okay, that I was perfectly capable of standing still and waiting for Carlos to get back, when I heard two pairs of little feet racing up the hall. Carlos called for them to walk because they were inside, but it was too late, the momentum was already built up. There was no way they could have slowed in time.

Eduardo came quarrelling through the space left in the doorway, surprisingly managing to not even brush my leg. He skidded to a stop beside Lope and expertly bounced up onto the chair beside him. With Matias, I was not so lucky. He was just as fast as his brother, but as always, his accuracy left something to be desired. He knocked my leg as he scrambled into the room, causing both my knees to immediately give out. I felt myself falling and tried to grab on to something to keep myself up while simultaneously channeling all the strength I had in my body to my knees so that they might, by some miracle, straighten up and save me from my imminent descent. In my flailing attempt to find leverage, I must have knocked the floor standing lamp, as it was the shade was smashed to a million pieces by the time I hit the floor. There was a painful jolt as my ass mettle solid mass below me and as that initial pain ebbed away slightly, I became aware of the stinging in both of my hands as well as my ass.

"Mommy!" Mat and Edi exclaimed, panic evident in their voices.

"Stay in you seats," I commanded, envisioning their little feet cut to shreds by the glass shards. "Mommy's alright. Just stay where you are."

Celia was bent over attempting to make sure I wasn't seriously injured, but straightened up the moment I felt Carlos's presence behind me. He picked up my right hand, inspecting the damage I'd done and attempting to brush off some of the loose glass. I hissed in a breath as his action managed to jar the slivers that had embedded themselves into my palm. "Babe," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. Without another word, he scooped me up off the floor and carried me through the dining room, past his family, and into the kitchen where he set me on the bench next to the sink.

Another small gasp escaped me as he sat me down, and I noticed a slight twinkle in Carlos's eyes. He was laughing at me! Here I was in pain and he was laughing at me. "It's not funny, mister," I told him. "It's in my ass!"

"That's what she said," came Nat's amused voice from the doorway.

I glared over Carlos's shoulder at my brother-in-law. "Yes," I acknowledged. "That's what I said. Now leave so I can drop trow."

He tipped his head and bowed out of the room. As he slid the door closed we heard a distinct tattling voice as he called out, "Carlos is undressing a woman in the kitchen!"

We rolled our eyes at each other, silently agreeing that Nat was immature as Carlos helped me to stand and lean over the counter so he could begin pulling the glass shards from my rear end. Luckily, lunch was not a hot serve deal, so nothing was ruined. In fact, by the time Carlos had ensured that my body was glass free, all my wounds had been tended to and he'd carried me back into the dining room, the glass had been cleared away and the boys were already half way through a plate of food each. Nobody else was eating.

"What happened to waiting for Mom and Dad?" Carlos asked the twins as he settled into the chair between me and them.

"We were hungry," Eduardo explained around a mouthful of bread.

"And Abuela said we could eat," Matias added.

Across the table my nephew, Isaac, leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm hungry, too," he muttered, which earned him a prompt slap to the back of the head from Celia – it was her specialty.

"Shut your trap," she said sternly. "You're older, you know how to wait."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Abuela only told them to eat to keep Matias from crying," he pointed out.

Carlos's eyes immediately went to the small boy who was picking at his salad. Mat didn't look up, just shoved a small piece of lettuce in mouth and chewed slowly. "Matias, were you upset?" he asked our son gently.

Matias nodded his head slowly, looking at the table cloth. "Because I hurted Mommy and now I'm going to be in trouble," he murmured and I could hear the tears forming.

That was it. My heart was crushed by the forlorn tone to his voice. I wished my legs were fully functioning, I would have scooped him up from his chair and held him to my chest until he was sure I was okay. As it was, I was stuck in my chair, but that didn't mean I couldn't comfort my little boy. I nudged Carlos in the arm and made a gesture with my bandaged hands. The next thing I knew Mat was deposited in my lap and his face was pressed against my chest.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," he said.

I hugged him tight, delving my fingers into his beautiful curls and told him, "Its okay, baby. It was an accident. You didn't mean it."

I managed to calm him down and reassure him I was alright fairly quickly, which was followed by a quick reminder to both the boys that they shouldn't run in the house because bad things happened and then we were all eating. The afternoon was fairly uneventful after that, with the possible exception of Mat almost knocking over his water. It would have gone down if Carlos hadn't had such amazing reflexes. Clearly, Mat took more after me than his father, we'd been noticing lately in particular that he seemed a lot clumsier than his brother.

Don't forget to review. You know I love hearing from you all.