CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER 4

With a tremulous smile tugging at the edges of her lips, Lila went forward and carefully pried the dirty paper towels from her father's white-knuckled hands. Ethan winced as the improvised bandage ripped away from the sharp wound, revealing fresh blood and flowing scarlet rivulets down his forearm.

Lila's breath caught in her throat, but she refused to let the sight of her father's wounds upset her newfound determination. Her actions were smooth and sure as she gently rinsed Ethan's hand under the cool water, removing the congealed blood and dirt.

Ethan growled through gritted teeth, his face contorted into a pained expression. "Son of a b*tch," he snarled, his words full of hatred.

Lila gave him a severe look, waving her fingers in a stinging reproach. "Language, Dad."

To her surprise, Ethan's lips twitched into a ghostly smile. "Yes, ma'am," he said, grudgingly respectful.

Lila worked quickly and expertly to clean and treat the wound, her experienced hands belied her youth. She could feel her father's gaze bore into her, a mix of shame and pride blazing in his eyes.

As she tightened the last piece of gauze, Ethan cleared his throat, his gruff voice cutting through the silence. "Listen, kid..." He trailed off, his brow furrowing as he looked for the appropriate words. "I apologize for what happened earlier. "For snapping at you like that."

Lila froze, her fingers dangling in mid-air, studying her father's reaction. His eyes were lowered, and his shoulders bowed as if braced for a blow.

With a soft exhalation, she stretched out and gently squeezed his arm. She moved slowly and deliberately as she signed her response. "I understand you did not intend it, Dad. "We are both just..." She hesitated, her throat tightening from emotion. "We're both struggling."

Ethan's gaze lifted, his eyes glittering with a genuine emotion that Lila had rarely seen. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bouncing in his throat. "Yeah," he rasped, his voice raspy from a lifetime of misery and remorse. "We are."

A heavy silence fell over them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. However, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, it did not seem crushing or oppressive. Instead, it was a shared understanding, a weak bridge over the gap that had formed between them.

Lila's fingers twitched, and she began to sign again, her movements slow and methodical. "Your hand is going to require proper treatment. I should go to the pharmacy and acquire medication to relieve the discomfort and prevent infection."

Ethan nodded, his jaw straining while flexing his damaged hand. "Probably a good idea," he admitted, gruffly.

With a sweet grin, Lila turned and headed for the door, her thoughts already racing with the task ahead. She was well aware of the difficulties she would face at the chemist, where her inability to communicate frequently resulted in frustration and misunderstandings.

But this time, she had a renewed feeling of determination, strengthened by the delicate truce she had reached with her father.

The bell above the door jangled as Lila went into the small chemist, her gaze immediately drawn to the harried-looking clerk behind the counter.

The man looked up, his brow furrowing as he saw her there. "Can I help you?" he inquired, his tone sharp and hurried.

Lila's fingers started to move, but the clerk's focus had already shifted to the ringing phone on the desk next to him.

Frustration rose inside her, hot and stinging, but she refused to let it overtake her. She took a deep breath, went closer, and stretched out, her palm lingering hesitantly over the man's arm.

He was shocked, turning around to face her with an irritated frown. "What?"

Lila's hands sprang into motion, her signals becoming more expressive as she sought to communicate her demands. However, the clerk's countenance became increasingly bewildered, his frustration turning into obvious perplexity.

"Look, lady, I don't understand what you're trying to tell me," he said, his voice laced with irritation.

Lila's shoulders fell as her fingers remained still in mid-air. She could feel the weight of defeat bearing down on her, threatening to crush her beneath its stifling grasp.

However, a flash of movement drew her attention, and she looked up to see the clerk grabbing a pen and a little notepad from the counter.

"Here," he replied, pushing the items at her with a reluctant expression. "Just write it down, okay?"

Lila felt relieved and nodded quickly, her fingers wrapping around the provided pen. She immediately wrote down the medications that her father needed, her handwriting flowing and accurate.

The clerk raised his eyebrows as he looked through the list, but he made no more comment. With a quick nod, he turned to grab the needed goods, his motions quick and effective.

As Lila waited, clutching the notepad to her chest, she couldn't help but feel grateful to the hurrying clerk. For once, someone had made the effort to comprehend, bridging the distance that her silence so frequently caused.

It was a little win, but it gave her a renewed sense of hope. If she could overcome this difficulty, she and her father might be able to reconnect, to mend the rough threads of their relationship that had been revealed in the aftermath of her mother's death.

With renewed determination, Lila grabbed the pharmaceutical bag from the clerk, giving him an appreciative grin and a genuine "thank you" written across the notebook.

As she stepped back outside into the bright afternoon sun, she couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism within her. The path ahead was still long and difficult, but it didn't appear as intimidating as it had in the past.

The familiar fragrance of sawdust and paint greeted Lila as she returned to the workplace, the plastic bag of medications crinkling in her hand. Her attention fell on her father, who lowered himself over the workbench with a homemade bandage wrapped around his damaged hand.

Ethan looked up at the sound of her arrival, his face guarded. But when his gaze shifted to the bag, some of the strain appeared to drain from his shoulders.

Lila took measured steps across the congested space before placing the bag in front of him. Her fingers made a series of flowing motions. "I got everything the chemist recommended - antibiotics, painkillers, and some ointment for the wound."

Ethan nodded, his jaw straining while flexing his bandaged hand. "Good thinking," he mumbled, his voice raspy from agony.

An uneasy quiet descended over them, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Lila struggled, her fingers twitching from the want to fill the hole.

But before she could respond, Ethan broke the silence with a weary groan. "I think that's enough for today," he remarked, his voice tinged with despair. "This hand isn't gonna let me get much more done."

Lila's face furrowed in alarm, her fists moving in a fury of resistance. "But Dad, you still have so much work to do on that cabinet order..."

Ethan waved her off with his uninjured hand, his face determined. "It can wait. It makes no sense to push it and make things worse." He nodded at his bandaged palm, his lips forming a sardonic smile. "Besides, I could use a break from all the excitement around here."

Despite herself, Lila felt a faint smile form at the corners of her mouth. Her fingers danced in the air, prompting a little chuckle. "I suppose you've had your fair share of drama for one day."

Ethan let out a rough laugh, the sound rising from deep within his chest. Lila realized how much she had missed the familiar, soothing sound.

As they began to straighten up the workplace, an easy familiarity fell over them, the remaining tension melting away with each shared glance and unspoken exchange. It wasn't a complete healing of the rift that had formed between them, but it was a start - a hesitant step towards bridging the gap.

As Lila followed her father out of the workshop, carefully closing the door behind them, she couldn't help but feel a light of optimism grow inside her. The road ahead was still long and twisting, but it didn't appear as scary as it had in the past.