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McCall:Tell him that. He’s demanding this trip down memory lane, make some demands of your own.
Macie + Booker
Macie:I deserve to know what’s going on in your present, Booker. You can’t keep me locked in the past.
Booker:You’re right.
Macie:Ugh. Stop placating me.
Booker:You’re running a little hot and cold here, baby.
Macie:I’m pissed. And stop calling me baby. Were you even going to tell me you were cleared to come home? Or were you going to wait until I run into you at the grocery store three months from now?
Booker:I don’t know exactly when I’ll make it back to Texas. I was waiting until I had more concrete answers. Everything here moves at a snail’s pace.
Macie:Okay. Are you allowed to go home, back to your momma’s? Or do you need to still be in the hospital?
Booker:I’ll be coming home. There’s a nurse who’ll come by a few times a week for a while, and I’ll need to do some physical therapy.
Macie:I’ve been learning sign language.
Booker:That makes me so happy, baby.
Macie:Stop calling me baby.
Booker:Okay.
Macie:Stop placating me.
Booker:I don’t know what to say. You’re angry with me. Anything I respond with is going to piss you off.
Macie:I’m nervous and confused and excited, and I don’t seem to have control over much at the moment.
Booker:Will you come see me?
Macie:Probably.
Booker:I’ll take it.
Macie:The last letter McCall left for me, has anything changed since then? As far as girls go, or whatever.
Booker.Macie girl, are you asking me if I’ve had sex with anyone?
Macie:I hate myself for it, but yes.
Booker:Nope. The only person who has touched me in the last four years is me.
Macie:Okay.
Booker:Okay? That’s it?
Macie:Okay, I’ve gotta go. My kiddos are on their way back from art class.
Booker:Have a good day, baby.
Macie:You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes. Stop calling me baby.
Booker:Okay, Macie.
