"She's not my mother." Eli leaned back and allowed the hospital personnel to position him on the table.
"Oh?" The doctor shot a quick glance at Marilyn who'd moved back out of the way, before shining her light into Eli's eyes.
He endured the examination with ill grace, opening his mouth for a flash of the penlight and a probe of his teeth. When the doctor moved on, examining a small cut behind his ear, he swallowed, a difficult task with his mouth so battered.
"No," Eli said in his broken-sounding voice. "We're lovers."
Two
***
The first laugh exploded out of Marilyn before she could catch it and shove it back down inside with the others. How long since that had happened, since she'd been surprised into laughter? How long since she'd really laughed? Not four years. Less than that, surely.
"You're not lovers?" The doctor had moved on to Eli's arms and hands. "Don't be so macho, Mr. Court. Tell me when it hurts."
"How 'bout I just faint?" he muttered, and swore when she probed his wrist.
Some demon of mischief took possession of Marilyn. She was sure Eli had made that outrageous claim to shock her, and he had. She still tingled with its electrical effect. She wanted to shock him back. "Actually, we are," she said. "Lovers. We've been seeing each other for months now. Very hush-hush."
The nurse had cut away Eli's T-shirt and now the doctor pressed down on one of the red-purple stripes across his abdomen. "Does that hurt?"
"Hell, yes, it hurts," Eli snapped. "Three bastards with Louisville Sluggers just used me for batting practice. Whattaya think? It's going to feel good?"
"Um--one of them had a tire iron, actually," Marilyn volunteered from her corner.
"What about here? Does it hurt?" The doctor pressed another spot, one of the few without discoloration.
"No, not really. Kind of an echo from all the other bruises, but not right there." Eli shifted position, turned his head to look at Marilyn. "We have to keep it quiet, right? I mean, you don't want your husband to find out, do you?"
Marilyn had to smile, feeling a little wistful. What if they really had been lovers for months? The game had acquired a painful edge, knowing there wasn't and could never be the least truth to it. "I'm a widow. I know I told you. Did you forget?"
He flushed and looked away in time to see the nurse approach his jeans with her scissors. "Don't cut. I can get them off myself."
He unsnapped the top with one hand and lowered the zip. Then he caught Marilyn's eye, daring her to watch as he used his thumbs to shove the jeans down over his hips, exposing black briefs. She took the dare, coming close again to claim his boots as they cut the laces and removed them. She set them by the door and returned for his jeans.
Eli held onto them, all but forcing her to meet his eyes. "I did forget," he said. "I'm sorry."
How could he forget something he never knew? But the apology was real. She saw it in his light blue eyes, that he was truly sorry for bringing back painful memories, or maybe for something only he knew. Marilyn brushed her fingers across his. "It was a long time ago." She spoke quietly, for his ears only, before she returned to her corner.
The doctor continued her probing examination down his legs to his feet. "Well, Mr. Court," she said, standing straight. "Those bastards you mentioned did a real number on you. I'm going to want x-rays pretty much head to toe. You're lucid enough I doubt there's a skull fracture, but there might be hairline damage. You definitely have a concussion.
"I think you've got at least one broken bone in your right wrist, probably in the arm as well, and I'm pretty sure your left tibia--the shin bone--is broken. Once we see the x-rays, we can decide where to go from there. Someone will be down soon to take you for your pictures." And the doctor departed to see the next patient on her list.
The nurse spread a blanket over Eli, and Marilyn was alone in the room with him. She sidled up next to his rolling bed. "Lovers, huh?"
He started to shrug and changed his mind. It obviously hurt. "You're not my mother."
"True." Marilyn smoothed his coat down over her arm, absent-mindedly enjoying the feel of the soft leather. "Though I doubt lovers was the first alternative that sprang to mind."
"How do you know? Maybe it was."
Marilyn laughed. Second time in less than half an hour. It might be a record. "Oh, I do like you, Eli Court. But I think your brain must have been more rattled than you realize, if you expect me to believe that."
His purple, swollen mouth tried to form a smile. "Hey, you like me. It could happen. You and me."
She ruffled her fingers carefully through his short, caramel-brown hair. He was pushing, trying to unnerve her by making her think he was interested in her sexually. Wouldn't work. "You can't shock me, Eli, and I won't scare off. I intend to make sure you let these people patch you back together, and that you have a way back home and someone to look after you when you get there. So you might as well call a halt to this game you're playing."
Eli let his eyes fall closed, drifting in the sensation of her fingers combing through his hair. It felt nice. Better than nice. If he didn't hurt so bad, he'd be rock hard. As it was, he still felt things stirring down there. He'd managed to protect the equipment, thank God.
Marilyn thought he was playing games. And he was. He wanted to shock her, convince her to leave. So why was he glad she was still here, running her fingers through his hair? It embarrassed him, wanting her. She was from another world. Another universe.
She said she
