Searching for Mr. Darcy

Scene Seventy-Seven

Mrs. Frampton was arguing with a nurse when Maisie returned.  The frazzled woman looked to Maisie, a plea for help in her eyes.  Maisie had seen that plea many times from various service workers over the years.

"Are you the other daughter?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, what is she complaining about now?"

"I need these forms filled out so we can connect her to a physical therapist."

"Why don't you want to fill out the forms, Mom?"

"They're going to kick me out - I can't even walk!"

The nurse spoke slowly and carefully, "I've explained to her that her injury does not require an overnight stay.  It's also against protocol to have her in a private room, but we made the exception for Dr. Frampton.  We're going to have her meet with a therapist before she's released to figure out the best option for her mobility - crutches, a chair, a scooter, or some combination."

"I can't walk!" Mrs. Frampton yelled, flecks of spittle flying out of her mouth.

"Of course you can't walk, Mother! That's what the nurse just said.  You have to fill out these forms so you can speak with a physical therapist who will get you a means of walking or rolling.  This lovely nurse does not deserve your misplaced animosity.  She's just trying to help you!"

Momma Frampton shrank down into her bed, tears in her eyes.  "Why are you yelling at me?  What did I do to deserve such an ungrateful daughter?"

"Oh, I don't know, only belittle and insult me my entire life?"  Maisie held her hand out to the nurse.  "I'll fill out the forms.  Let's get her home and knocked out on pain meds as soon as possible."

She furiously began filling in boxes with her mother's information, pausing to rifle through her purse for her insurance card at one point, which her mother glared silently out the window.

"I'll come back in a few minutes," the nurse said once the form-filling was well under way.

"Thank you," Maisie said, making sure her tone was pleasant.

"You're nice to her," Momma Frampton said quietly."

"I'd be nice to you, too, if you even tried to act like a decent human being for once."

"I'm a good, Christian woman."

"Only one out of three of those descriptions is accurate."

Her mother began openly sobbing and Maisie felt no shame in taking a little pleasure in it.  She didn't want her mother to be in pain, but she was being a pain in the ass, and it was far past time someone called her out on it.

****

Two hours later, finished with the therapist, the mother-daughter duo waited for an orderly to bring a pair of crutches to assist Mrs. Frampton to the car.  A collapsable scooter had been ordered, and Maisie would have to pick it up in a few days.  Until then, her mother was on bed rest, and since Maisie was currently unemployed and her sister had two young children to look after, it was up to Maisie to wait on the old crone.

Driving to her mother's house, Maisie tried to crank up the music, but her mother immediately turned it off.  "I have a headache," she said.

"Okay."  Maisie slowed and came to a stop at a red light.  "I'll help you in the house and to bed, then run out and pick up your prescriptions and swing by my apartment to grab some clothes and my toothbrush."

"You're going to leave me as soon as we get there?  I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Do you want your pain meds or not?"

"Of course I do."

"How do you expect to get them if I don't run to pick them up?"

"Stop on the way."

"You want to wait in the car while I go in the pharmacy?  It could take a while to get the prescriptions filled."

"Of course I don't want to wait in the car."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Can't someone deliver the medication?"

"Funnily enough, I don't think they've developed GrubHub for drugs yet."

"Why do you hate me so much?"

The light turned green and Maisie turned onto I-40.  "I don't hate you, Mom.  You infuriate me, but I don't hate you."

"Your contempt for everything I do says otherwise."

"I could say the same thing to you."  She glanced at her mother, who was staring resolutely out the passenger side window.  "If you want me to pick up the prescriptions on the way to your house, I have to take the next exit."

"Fine."

"Fine, stop?"

"Yes, fine, stop.  Get me some ice cream, too.  I don't have any at the house."

"Sure, what kind would you like?"

"Anything chocolate."

Maisie smiled.  It was the least contemptuous either had been all day.  Or would be for the next week.