Page 43 of In a Haze

I struggle, trying like hell to remember yesterday. I actually felt almosthappy, if I even know what that is. My brain goes back even further, to the night before, when Joe and I made love—if it could be called that. Spending that time with him, connecting on that level, must have been what elevated my mood. And I remember visiting his room for the first time, followed by Rose telling me I had a visitor.

Oh, yes, the lawyer man.

It still seems so strange, so foreign that that man is my husband. But I feel a huge sense of relief that those memories are beginning to come back to me. There’s that at least. I tell him everything I can recall about the visit, but I’m sure I’ve forgotten details. Still, at this point, I trust Joe’s memory far more than I trust my own.

I don’t eat much. I feel really hungry but I don’t have the energy.

Joe says, “Why don’t we just hang in the living room for a while?”

I’ll go wherever Joe likes. I feel safe with him—but I also know that, if the people in charge here wanted to do something, he wouldn’t be able to protect me. The safety I feel with him is an illusion.

Still, it’s something I need.

Soon, we’re sitting in the living room in our usual spot, only we’re not talking much. I used up most of my energy earlier when I told Joe everything I could remember about the day before. It’s still nice, though, especially because he seems to understand.

But after a while, we’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Rep,” she begins as she wheels her way toward us from behind.

I know what’s coming but, for a change, I’m not braced for impact or freaking out.

I am calm, almost Zen-like and, medicated or not, I think it’s all good.Hit me with all you got, Sharon.No matter what she has for me, she can’t hurt me like the people running the show here.

16

Joe looks at me with a huge grin as Sharon’s wheelchair gets closer. We both say together, along with Sharon, “Resent.”

I look at her—reallylook in her eyes—for the first time ever. They are the lightest blue I’ve ever seen, almost spooky looking, but her mouth seems kind. This woman slogs around the way I feel, almost sloth-like, so why have I been nervous or scared around her? She can’t hurt me.

In fact, she doesn’twantto harm me. I can sense that now. Or at least I think I do, but that could be due to the medication.

I know the next thing out of her mouth will be incoherent mumble, but her eyes are speaking to me. Maybe she’s not as out of it as I’ve always thought. I see her chest swell as she takes in another breath before saying, “Tative.”

My brow almost furrows, but my muscles aren’t responding the way I’d like. Joe says something before I can. “Wait. What’d you say?”

Sharon’s eyes almost seem exasperated, but I think I’m imagining it. Taking another deep breath, she says, “Rep.”

Joe, now impatient, says, “Yeah, yeah. We got that part.”

She takes another lungful of air. “Resent.”

Fortunately, this time Joe just waits.

“Tative.”

Joe’s sky-blue eyes light up just as I start to put things together myself. He says, “Wait. Are you sayingrepresentative?”

When my eyes shift back to Sharon, she slowly lifts her head. Inhaling another slow breath, she then says, “Yes.”

Joe turns to me. “Representative. What do you suppose she means?”

He’s evidently forgotten I’m not firing on all cylinders today. I might have been bright and whippy yesterday, but I’m back to “normal” now. I’m no Hercule Poirot at the moment. Finally, I manage to say, “I don’t know.”

Sharon says, “Show.” Joe is again leaning over, rapt, giving her his full attention. After she’s taken another breath, she adds, “You.”

Joe repeats her words. “Show you. You want to show us?”

The older woman gives one short nod. “Yes.”

“You need to take us somewhere to show us something?”

---