of his bed, leaning in close. "What?"
He quoted the Tin Man's first words. "'Oil can.'" Then
he lifted his arm and bent it at the elbow, making a creaking
sound as he swung it back and forth.
Both of them started to laugh. Rebecca picked up a
juice box and aimed the straw at O.E.'s head, pretending to
oil his frozen jaw. This made him laugh even harder, which
sounded pretty funny through his closed mouth.
O.E. calmed himself and stared at Rebecca with
sparkling eyes. "Thanks for coming. Makes me happy."
I'm happy to see him, too. Rebecca didn't expect this.
She figured she'd pay an obligatory visit, then walk away. It
would be easy-they had already ended their brief
relationship, if you could call it that. But something stirred
in her, and she wasn't so sure about him anymore. Was it his
great body and handsome face, appealing even when
plastered with bandages? Was it his kiss, even though he
didn't seem like he'd be able to do that again for a while?
Was it her concern for the poor injured man, helpless
enough without a home or a job, now even more helpless,
laying here in a hospital? Or did their Wizard of Oz banter
lift her spirits and remind her that they seemed to have a
special connection?
Rebecca smiled at the Tin Man. "You're welcome, O.E.
Is there anything you need?"
A strange woman's voice called out from the door. "He
needs a swift kick in the head." The woman giggled and
swept into the room.
Tall and thin, her flowing brown hair fluttered behind
her as she breezed in. She wore a long brown and gold
bohemian skirt that looked as if it had been hand made in
India. Her black knit top had long sleeves and a scoop neck,
but she wore absolutely no jewelry. She arrived at O.E.'s bed
and plopped a huge handbag down on the floor.
"Oh wait!" She smiled at him and delivered her punch
line. "It looks like that's already been taken care of."
One of O.E.'s lovers? It didn't seem likely. This woman
was just as amused with his situation as Rebecca. Not only
that, she actually seemed interested in Rebecca and quickly
turned to offer an outstretched hand.
"Hi. I'm Constance Westerley." They shook hands.
"Rebecca Moore. I'm a friend of O.E." She regarded
Constance for a second. "Westerley? Are you related to Dan
Avery?"
"Yes, we're cousins." Constance turned her attention to
the patient. "Hey there, Mr. Big Talk. Dan tells me you can't