Frank called this morning at 5:00 a.m. Mama had fallen out of bed and they rushed her to the hospital. I fumed and felt my heart race, sitting there on the edge of the bed, Saul’s spotty snoring poking at me like rubber bands.
“I could’ve told you this would happen,” I said. “Not even two days since you moved Dad to the other facility, and we’ve got an incident.”
“Totally unrelated, Jean. They said she was asleep. It could’ve happened any time.”
“But this proves my point. Mama should be living with us, not in Maine where she doesn’t have a single family member.”
“But Dad needs the familiarity of their town where they’ve spent their retirement years.”
“How would he know? He has Alzheimer’s Disease! Every place is just like any other.”
“Besides, Mother is probably over-dramatizing. She probably fell out of bed on purpose, just to get attention.”
“That’s absurd,” I said, goaded on by his obtuseness. “How dare you make such remarks about our mother.”
“She’s a manipulator, you know I’m right.”
“She’s also lying in bed, disabled by that stroke. Except for her one index finger.”
“And that bitchy mouth she used to control our father.”
“Go jump in a lake. I’m bringing Mama to New York.”
“Not without my consent, you’re not. Maybe she should be with me in Baltimore.”
“And have you ignore her? Not a chance in the world, you cold fish.”
“You irrational harpie.”
I hung up the phone and lay back down in bed, Saul still snoring. It had gone better than expected.
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