A Good Little Girl Like You (A Sample)

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