Page 95 of Brain Damage

“It’s like a miracle,” I gush to Clark, when he arrives soon after lunch.

Clark has his nose buried in his phone, per usual. I wonder if he’s texting with Haley. No, I’m not going to let that bother me.

“That’s great, Charlotte,” he says. He sounds distracted, which I’m used to, but even more irritating, his voice has a patronizing edge to it.

“I just have to get a nicer set of frames.”

“Who cares?” Clark says. “It doesn’t bother me.”

That’s not surprising, considering that he hasn’t even glanced in my direction since he walked into the room.

“They look like granny glasses,” I say.

Clark shrugs. “So what? You really want to waste a bunch of money on a pair of fancy-looking glasses? Do you really think that’s a good use of your finances, Charlotte?”

“Sure.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not. That’s why I’m helping you with your money. Because you don’t know better.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with getting a pair of glasses that look nice,” I say, frowning at him.

“What’s wrong is that glasses are expensive,” he says. “We’re on a tight budget to begin with. It’s not like you need to look like some kind of model.”

Lately, it seems like I haven’t had one conversation with Clark where he hasn’t reminded me of how physically undesirable I am. I bite my lip. “But, Clark…”

“Charlotte, I said no.”

And that’s it. That’s the end of it.

When Valerie comes into the room, she lets Clark do everything. Despite his apathy and chronic tardiness, he’s gotten pretty good at transferring me in and out of bed, and getting me dressed. He hardly even struggles to get my arms through the sleeves of my shirt anymore. Maybe this will all work out after all.

“Much better,” she tells Clark.

Clark smiles at the compliment. “I told you I’m a fast learner.”

I look at my shirt. Clark buttoned it, but missed one of the buttons. All of the buttons are now off by one. “You missed a button,” I tell him.

He looks at my shirt and laughs. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Can you fix it, please?”

Clark flashes me an irritated look. “Oh, for God’s sake, Charlotte… you’re acting like some sort of diva today.”

Am I really a diva because I don’t want my shirt buttoned wrong? It looks so sloppy. I don’t want to go around the rest of the day looking like this.

But it’s obvious that Clark isn’t going to help me.

I sigh, and start fixing the buttons myself. They’re completely wrong and all of them need to be undone. I start with the top button, and have gotten two of them fixed when I feel Valerie’s hand on mine.

“What are you doing?” Valerie nearly screams at me.

I drop my head guiltily. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to fix the buttons.”

“But you’re using your left hand,” Valerie points out.

Wow. She’s right.

“It’s the glasses,” I tell her.