Perfectly Adequate

“Wait … did you and Eli break up?”

Wow, she doesn’t seem to care about my fondue distress at all.

“No. I mean … I don’t know what we are or were. It’s not like we talked about it. We have sex. Good sex. But I’m not sure mutually sharing autonomic nervous system responses necessarily makes us a couple.”

“Autonomic what?”

“Orgasms. We have sex. I told you last Sunday that staying the night was a complete disaster. We’re not spooning and whispering I love you’s. It’s like hooking up, but with food, and sometimes a playdate with Roman. And he didn’t want me to tell Dr. Warren about us, and Warren had already asked me out and I’d accepted. So what choice did I have? I went on the awful fondue date, but I told him with plenty of notice that we would not have sex. I’m not interested in having sex with anyone but Eli right now.”

“Yes, Dorothy.” Mom laughs. “Sex with only one person. It’s called monogamy. You’re in a monogamous relationship with Eli. You’re a couple. You’re his girlfriend.”

I wrinkle my nose, not really believing her reasoning, even if it does kind of make sense when I repeat it in my head.

“Whatever.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Could It Be Love?

Elijah

Lights.

Way too bright.

Beeping.

Way too loud.

Pain.

Way too excruciating.

Fuck …

Everything hurts. Even my eyelids protest, especially my left eye. It takes me a little bit to realize I can’t open it.

My throat …

Something’s in my throat.

The sounds. My eye. My throat … I’m in the hospital. What happened?

The echo of voices thwarts my attempts to think back … to remember what happened.

Jesus … am I even alive? My head …

Yeah, I’m alive. Dead people don’t feel this kind of pain. Death doesn’t exactly sound terrible at the moment.

“Eli?”

Fucking hell! Ya mind not shining that light in my eye?

“Eli?” Mom.

My mom is here.

I force my right eye open a little more. The room dims a bit like someone dimmed the lights or shut the shades. The tube down my throat prevents me from thanking whomever did that, but I’m nonetheless thankful.

Mom … Her pensive face comes into focus.

“Eli. They’re going to remove your breathing tube.”

That’s great. Except I know from my medical training that removing tubes is not exactly the best experience for the patient. I like being the doctor. The patient? Not so much.

I follow the instructions as if I don’t know them plenty well.

Suction.

Deflate.

Remove.

I cough a few times before they put an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose.

Mom smiles as Dad comes into my line of sight. My one-eyed line of sight.

“Do you know what happened?” Mom asks as a medical team mills around my bed, checking vitals, monitors, reflexes.

My head eases side to side. It’s stiff. But it moves, so that’s a really good sign.

“You fell while out on the trail. It was a long fall. You’re going to be fine.”

I don’t remember that. Maybe that’s for the best. I just remember Dorothy and Warren and their fondue date. Date … how could she have sex with me and go out with him two nights later? Ha! I don’t like that memory, but it sure as hell feels good to know I have memories. So my head injuries can’t be that severe.

“How … long?”

“Two days.” Mom smiles again. Of course she smiles. I’m alive and only have been in a coma for two days. Good news indeed. It could have been two years. Two years for Roman to forget me. Two years for Julie to remarry. Two years of not saving young lives. Two years for Dorothy to fall in love with Dr. Warren.

“Kendra and Molly will be here soon. Julie was going to get Roman dinner and take him to Peggy’s, but your dad just texted her, so she’s on her way now with Roman. He hasn’t been to the hospital since your accident. We didn’t want him seeing you unconscious.”

“Good,” I say in a hoarse voice.

“Dorothy said she’d check in on you after the end of her shift. I messaged her and she sent a string of emojis. She seems pretty excited to know you’re awake.”

“Okay.” I inwardly smile because it’s hard to actually form one on my face. My lower lip hurts. It’s probably cut or stitched or ripped off. I’m not sure.

While we wait for the rest of my family, they remove my oxygen mask and give me some ice chips. Mom continues to quiz me on my accident, but I can’t remember it. I remember everything else she asks me, which seems to please her and the other doctors.

“Daddy!”

Julie keeps a firm hold of Roman’s hand as he tries to sprint toward my bed. “Remember, Daddy is a little fragile right now. We have to be careful with him.” She lifts him up and sets him on the side of my bed. She smiles at me. It’s filled with a little sadness, but mostly relief. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t sense anything like resentment or guilt. It feels like the way my wife used to smile at me.