Page 122 of Capri

She raises her bed, swinging her feet over before shoving the bedside table away and standing, on a mission.

“Get my things. I’m leaving.”

She can’t walk out. I have to distract her. But how?

I halt her steps. “Your nurse told me you planted tomatoes in the garden. Will you show me?” I urge her.

“What garden? I’ve never seen a garden.” She looks at me with disgust, like she can’t figure out why I haven’t left yet. Like she wants me to leave her alone.

Sorry, can’t do that, Mom.

The morning started out great. We had breakfast together. She painted a little on her art easel. It’s been good—calm.

Until now. The sun-down is here and there’s no shaking it.

I’ve been able to redirect her for the past few hours but she’s getting more and more irritable by the second.

“I’m leaving. I hate this place. I hate that man who hurts me every damn day.”

My stomach drops. That’s not the first time she’s made a comment like that. I’m just unsure where it comes from.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t we watch a movie? I heard Pearl Harbor will be on again in an hour. Come on, let’s watch it together.”

Mom jerks her arm out from under me. “I’m not staying here! I need to go home. Where is my suitcase?” she yells.

Beverly, Mom’s nurse for today, walks in to check on what the commotion is all about. “Everything okay in here, Mrs. Archer?”

“Archer?” Mom scoffs. “Over my dead body would I marry that man. It’s like signing my own death wish.”

She means my father.

“You loved Dad. Remember?”

She groans like it’s painful for her to even think about. “Worst mistake of my life. Bastard had it comin’ for him.”

Beverly stands by the door while I hold still, waiting for what’s next. “There a reason you’re still standing there?” she asks.

I take a seat far enough away so she feels comfortable. “I figured we could watch a movie together. Pearl Harbor is on.”

“Do I look like I want to watch a movie?” Her eyes roll. “As soon as my ride gets here, I’m gone.”

A knock sounds on the door and Beverly opens it, revealing Capri with a big smile on her face. “Hi.” I don’t have time to prepare her before she rounds the corner, coming into view. “Hi, Dolly. How ya doin’ today?”

“Look who it is,” Mom snaps, growing more hostile by the second.

Capri looks my way before approaching her head on. “Yep, it’s me again.”

She’s going along with her.

“Which one are you?” Mom asks. “Whore number one or whore number two?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Mom—” I jump to speak, but Capri stops me.

She crosses her arms on her chest and meets Mom head-on. “Now, what makes you think I’m a whore? You can do better than that.” I sit back and watch their conversation play out.

I can tell Mom doesn’t recognize Capri. She’s still caught up in her earlier riot. Capri is helping defuse it.

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