“What are your plans, Edith?”
Getting as far away from you as possible.
“Well?”
At the moment, not getting riled up and letting my jumpy nerves get the best of me.
The psychiatrist intervenes. “What do you remember before your accident?”
The dashboard Jesus. “Nothin’.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No, sir.”
“Look at her arms, Marvin.” Darling points toward me. “Look at what she’s done now.”
“Don’t let that upset you.”
Darling is going to get a lesson in upset if she keeps pointing her bony finger at me.
“What’s the first thing you can remember?” Dr. Perez wants to know.
That’s easy. “Lois pinchin’ the back of my hand.”
“Lois…?”
Oops. I can’t say Lois looks like Lois Griffin because I have amnesia. “I don’t know.”
Marvin and Darling turn to each other and talk in hushed tones, and while Edie’s wrists might be a mess, there’s nothing wrong with her ears. I hear words like sacrifice and selfish, attention and ungrateful. They glance at the doctors and huddle closer. “We’ll discuss it when we get her home.”
News flash. Not going anywhere with Marvin and Darling. No way. Not now. Not ever. I’ve got my own plans, thank you.
“I spoke with your doctor….” The shrink pauses to scroll through his notes.
“Barb Ware,” Perez reminds him.
“That’s right. Doctor Barb Ware.”
“Bobwyre? Y’all are pullin’ my leg.”
“Barb Ware,” the shrink says again.
“That’s what I said. Bobwyre.”
“Not barbed wire like a fence. Doctor Barbara W-a-re. W-a-r-e.” Dr. Perez spells it out for me like he’s reading from one of the golfer’s Dummies books.
I can take a joke. I can laugh at myself, too, but I’m not in a laughing mood. I’m overloaded and overwhelmed, and my last nerve is worn as thin as a whisper. I want to yell at everyone to get out, but I hear Momma’s voice in my head telling me not to be a hothead and fly off the handle, so I swallow past the words burning my throat. I need a cool head and tongue, and thanks to the good Lord and baby Jesus, I control myself and say, “Well, bless your heart, Doctor Perez.”
Darling points her finger at me again. “Why is my daughter speaking with that horrible Southern accent?”
I put on my best church smile and say like God’s watching, “Bless your heart too, darlin’.” Momma would be proud.
“You sound like a hillbilly.”
Hillbilly? What is with these people?
“Edith, I won’t have you embarrassing the family with that ignorant accent,” Marv joins in.