Page 91 of Brain Damage

“I know,” I say quickly, before he can complete his thought. “It’s okay.”

Jamie seems like he might have more to say, but Natalie cuts him off by getting me up for my walk. As she helps me across the small gym, I can’t help but wonder if this might be the last time I walk for the rest of my life.

63

As I predicted, Clark won’t stop fuming about what happened in the gym today. Even as Valerie is teaching him how to bathe me, he is noticeably sulking. And he’s definitely angry with me. He practically scrubs the skin off my shoulders until Valerie tells him to be a little bit more gentle.

Even though Clark said when he first came in that he had somewhere to go, he sticks around after Valerie is done with her session. I can tell he wants to hash out the whole thing one more time. I wish he would leave, even though it would mean I’d have to go in the hallway in my wheelchair.

“So who was that guy anyway?” Clark asks me. “Is he, like, some good buddy of yours?”

“No,” I reply quickly. “I hardly know him.”

Clark narrows his eyes at me. “Didn’t he say that you were his friend?”

He’s my best friend here. Or at least, he used to be.

“I don’t know,” I say. “He’s got a brain injury. He doesn’t know who his friends are.”

“He didn’t look that bad.” Clark has started pacing across my room. “He hit me pretty hard. But I mean, I wouldn’t have fallen over if he didn’t catch me off-guard.”

“Of course not.”

“Maybe I should pay him a visit.” Clark pauses his pacing mid-stride. “What did they say his name was? Knox?”

“I don’t remember,” I mumble. “Really, I barely know him.”

“I don’t want you talking to that guy anymore.” Clark folds his arms across his chest. “Not ever. I don’t even want you looking in his direction. Okay, Charlotte?”

“Okay,” I reply. My voice sounds tiny.

“What?” Clark cups his hand over his ear. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I said okay!”

Clark nods in satisfaction. “Also,” he says, “there are some other things we need to talk about. This whole power of attorney thing is bullshit, Charlotte.”

For some reason, that sick feeling returns to my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Before this happened to you, you filled out all this paperwork to give your mother power of attorney.” He’s started pacing again. “But I’m your husband. I’m taking care of you. I should be managing all our finances.”

I don’t say anything.

“Don’t you think so?” he asks. He stops pacing and stares at me.

“I guess so,” I say.

Clark nods. “I agree. I talked with Dr. Williams and he said that if a neuropsychologist can declare you at least competent to make a decision about this, we can get the paperwork switched over.”

“Okay,” I say.

That sick feeling stays in my stomach. I don’t want Clark to be in charge of my finances. I don’t want his girlfriend living in my house, sleeping in my bed. I don’t want any of this.

But more than that, I don’t want to be stuck in a nursing home for the rest of my life. So I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

64

They never give me enough food. I just finished eating my dinner in the hallway, but I’m still hungry. I’m also really thirsty, because they forgot to give me a drink. How could they forget my drink? And there are no nurses around anywhere to help me. I see one nurse in the hallway, but she seems to be giving a patient his medications.