Olifina: Love And Trouble

33. Anger And Grief

I tightened my eyes in pain as tears streamed down my cheeks. Oliverio drew away from me and cleaned my tears. I rested my head on his chest as my sobbing continued. He soothingly patted my hair and then planted a kiss on my head. We stayed there until I was ready to move.

"We would have to check that ankle," he said and I nodded.

He swooped me up in his arms and carried me to the living room. After he sat me down, he left to get his massaging balm. He was still massaging my leg when Rodas came downstairs.

"What happened? Did she fall?"

"Yeah," Oliver replied. "Can you handle breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure. Sorry, Rufina." I nodded as Rodas patted my shoulder before he walked away.

"What were you cooking?"

"Chicken stew," Oliver shouted in reply.

"This chicken is toast!" Rodas shouted from the kitchen.

I tried not to laugh as I studied Oliver's expression. He wasn't finding it funny. I was reminded of the fact that something serious was bothering him.

"I'm sorry."

He looked up at me, then back at my leg as he continued massaging it.

"I shouldn't have flared up at you like that. I didn't mean to. I was just so angry and sad. I wish I had better control of it."

"No, it's okay," replied Oliver. "Don't be."

"But you're bothered about something."

"I am. Not really, but I'm bothered. I don't know, my uncle says I should come visit."

"I don't see how that's a bad thing." Honestly, I did not.

"It's just that I don't like the circumstances in which I have to visit." He stopped to cover the tube of the balm which he had been using to massage my leg. "He heard of what happened on Thursday."

"What? How?"

"That's the same question I asked," replied Oliver. "But then, I remembered a friend of my father's who worked in the police force. He knew my dad and his cousin, my uncle. When he heard of what happened, he told my uncle."

"Oh..." I nodded.

"When I last spoke with him was months ago. He's a very caring man but his wife isn't too receptive. That's not my problem though. I'm not going."

He packed up the first aid tools and went upstairs. When he came down I was still in the living room watching a show. He joined Rodas in the kitchen.

I thought of going to meet Mum but decided not to. I Didn't want to disturb her. After about an hour of watching television, I went into the kitchen to check what our chefs were up to.

"Are you guys done?"

"Yeah, Bon Appétit!" Rodas said, carrying a tray containing a plate of rice and canned soda to the dining.

Oliver shook his head at Rodas. "Please, help yourself," he said.

"You don't need to say it twice."

I had already grabbed a plate. Later on, I went in to inform Mum that breakfast was ready. She was staying in one of the extra rooms upstairs. Holding onto the rail, I tried to climb carefully so I didn't hurt my ankle. When I got there, I knocked on her door but got no reply. After a couple more knocks without a reply from her, I opened the door and went in.

Surprisingly, Mum's room was dark at ten in the morning. She was still on her bed, wrapped up in all her layers of bedsheet. The curtains and blinds covered the windows, shielding any rays of sunlight from entering.