Page 39 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

“Where do you imagine yourself?”

“High-rise apartment.”

“Your high-rise apartment?” he asks, sly as a debutante.

“No.”

“Whose apartment is it?”

“Ramona’s.”

“Hmmmmmm… Is Ramona a family member or perhaps a friend?”

“Neither. She’s on Real Housewives of New York City. It was on last night. She and Sonja are a hoot and a half.” I turn my head and look over at him. “It was a rerun.”

His hand is on his forehead like he’s in pain and he’s clicking the top of his pen. “On your group worksheet you wrote that Anna is a ‘kleper.’ What does that mean?”

“That I can’t spell ‘kleptomaniac.’?” Out of everything, I think that my miraculous ability to read and write gives Dr. Mensa the biggest mental seizures. The other doctors chalked it up to the mysteries of amnesia, like my handwriting being totally different, but he can’t let it go at that. I didn’t mean for it to be a big deal; I simply didn’t want to pretend ignorance and start kindergarten a second time.

After another half an hour, I think the doctor and I have had enough of each other.

“Same time next week,” he says as I move toward the door. “Do you need a card or will you remember?”

“If I forget, all y’all know where to find me.” I shove my ball in my pocket and look over my shoulder at him. “I don’t think I’m goin’ to get my memory back.” Maybe he’s as tired of these sessions as I am and we can just stop.

“Don’t worry about it.” He stands and moves toward me. “We’ll keep working at it until you do.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. “Doctor Barbara says I can get out October fourth. That’s only two more months.”

“You’ll be reevaluated the last week of September.”

“And since I don’t pose a threat to myself or others, y’all can’t keep me in here.”

“Don’t let your expectations overshadow your treatment.” He shoves my chart under his arm. “Remember what happened last time.”

“No.”

“Your temper got the best of you.”

Yeah, losing my temper hasn’t worked out for me lately. Sounds like it didn’t work for Edie either, so I smile and say, “See ya next week, Doc,” and hope maybe something intervenes between now and then.

Maybe if I talk to Dr. Barbara, she’ll say I don’t have to go to his office anymore. She has a nice face and seems to care about me. She gives me hope and at the moment, that’s all I have.

I keep my head down as I make my way to my room. I have a lot to think about and don’t want to get stopped by anyone. Unfortunately, I feel Twitchy Lisa’s eyes on me a second before she’s by my side. “Don’t say it,” I tell her.

“Where’s Roy?”

“I don’t know.” Of course that answer doesn’t satisfy her, and she dogs me to my room.

“I saw you with him.”

“Leave me alone, Lisa.”

“Where are you hiding my husband?”

I reach the safety of my room and slam the door in her face. I’m living in an altered universe. Like Freaky Friday without the fun stuff. Four months ago I was working next to my momma at the Do or Dye, and now I have a schizophrenic woman chasing me down the hall. Ingrid said she’d help me

out like a guardian angel, but I haven’t seen her since El Paso. I don’t know if her time to help me is up or if she’s mad because I blew it. I remember her saying something about not seeing me if I don’t play by the rules.