"Girl, what is wrong with you?"
I opened the door wider to admit my favorite relative, my grandmother, Eliza, and fought the tears back. It had been a long, hard couple of months and the fact that my marriage was failing wasn't helping. I should have been happy that I wasn't killed in the accident, that therapy had helped me to regain the ability to walk and that my hair had grown back, covering the scar.
"Nothing, Gram. I'm fine."
"No, you ain't." She moved by me, smelling of a mixture of mothballs and Chantilly Lace perfume. "You been sittin' up in this house like a god-damned hermit crab stuck in the mudbank."
"Grandma!" I'd never heard Eliza Ray Browne cuss and it was startling to me as the truth behind her words.
"Don't act so surprised, girl. I
am
an adult." She settled herself in the recliner and thumbed the TV into silence, tossing the remote aside. "You shouldn't be sittin' in here, watching that soap opera shit. That's why you and Carlos got the problems y'all got now."
I just stared at her, my heart in my throat. I wasn't surprised that Grandma Eliza knew about my marital problems. We'd always been close due to the psychic connection we shared but the hint about our lack of intimacy hit too close to home. I burst into tears, laying my head on her lap.
"There, there. All ain't gone to hell in a hand basket yet." She stroked the back of my head lovingly. "But it will if you don't do something about it."
I sat up, wiping my face in the sleeves of my robe and looked up at her. "But what can I do, Gram? Carlos doesn't want me. He's over at that woman's house all the time now."
"That don't make no different, baby. A man's spirit knows where his match is if it's true." I stood up and helped Gram to her feet. "Let's make some biscuits."