(Jake loved me? Eunice, you’re out of your mind!)
(Impossible, dear; I don’t have one to be out of. Why do you think Jake put up with your bad temper? Not for money; he’s rich, even though he’s not as rich as you are. Why is he still around at all? For me? He would have avoided seeing me—this body—had it been possible; it hurts him. He stuck because you needed him. Look, dear—Joan, I mean—Joan, this is your big sister Eunice talking, you listen to her. Be nice to Jake. Be a sweet girl to Jake. Then let things run easy. I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do—heavens, no! Jake would spot it if you forced yourself; he’s no fool about women. Just be sweet. Don’t be Johann, be Joan. Be little and feminine and let him take care of you.)
(Well—I’ll try. Jake is going to think I’m off my rocker.) (He’s going to think you’re a darling girl. It’s possible he’d rather be your father than what he was to me. If so, we’ll be good and let him baby us.)
She sighed. (I’ll try, Eunice. But I don’t know. Jake!)
(That’s my good girl, Joan. Be helpless and female; Jake will do the rest.)
Dr. Garcia bustled in, came straight to the bed. “What’s this about a tub bath? I thought I made it plain that you weren’t to rush things.”
(Don’t let him argue, Joan!) (Watch me trip him!) “Oh Doctor, you startled me so!”
“Eh? How?”
“Bursting in on me without warning. Is that nice?”
Garcia looked baffled. “Miss Smith, I’ve been here more than a year and I’ve always entered this room without ceremony. Am I to understand that you find it offensive? After all this time?”
“That’s not the point, Doctor. When you first came here you were attending a helpless old man. Then you were helping Dr. Hedrick with a female patient who was paralyzed, and unconscious most of the time—and I do appreciate the care you gave that helpless patient, for I am she. But things change. I am now having to learn to be a woman and, if possible, a lady. It’s not easy. Won’t you help me by showing me the formal courtesies you show other ladies?”
Garcia reddened slightly. “A doctor doesn’t have time for formalities.”
(Slug him again, dearie! He’s still twitching.) (I shall!) “Doctor, if I were in danger, I would expect you to rush in without buzzing; I depend on you. But you came in to tell me I can’t have a bath—surely not an emergency. I’m not asking much—just asking you to think of this room, not as an old man’s sickroom, but as a lady’s boudoir. To help me. Please?”
Dr. Garcia said stiffly, “Very well, Miss Smith. I shall remember.”
“Thank you, sir. By the way, my name is ‘Joan Smith’ now; I can’t go on being ‘Johann.’ You might call me ‘Miss Joan’ to help me get used to it. Or simply ‘Joan,’ as I don’t want to be unnecessarily formal with my doctor, truly I don’t. Just that little touch of formality that I need as training in learning how to be my new self. Will you call me ‘Joan’?”
He grudged a smile. “All right—Joan.”
She gave him Eunice’s best you-wonderful-man smile.
“That sounds nice. And you are welcome any time, Doctor, either professionally or just to visit. Which I hope you will do. Just have the nurse make sure I’m ready to receive a gentleman. Things. You know.” She raised herself on an elbow and looked at him, acutely aware of her “modest” nightgown. “Such as lipstick.” She wet her lips. “Odd to have to wear it. Is it on properly? Does it look right?”
“You look lovely!”
(Cancel and erase—change ‘butch’ to ‘tart.’ You’re a natural-born tart, dearie. Where’s your beat?) (Stow it, sister tart; I haven’t finished hustling him.) “Why, thank you sir! Now tell me why I can’t have a hot, soapy, tub bath so that I will feel lovely, too. I’ll follow your orders, Doctor, but I would like to understand them. Can you tell me without using a lot of long medical words?”