“Your eye. Daddy, look! Your eye is scary.”
“Yeah, well, it will get better soon. I won’t look scary forever.”
Julie uses one arm to keep Roman from getting too rough around me while her other hand squeezes mine. Tears fill her eyes. “I was so scared, Eli.”
I squeeze her hand back. “I’m sorry.”
She quickly wipes the stray tear from her cheek and laughs. “Don’t apologize. I’m just …” She swallows hard. “I’m just so relieved you’re here. It could have …” Her words break as more tears fill her eyes.
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand again. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
My mom hands Julie a tissue while Roman tries to climb off the bed.
Later my sisters and their families arrive. Everyone seems relieved to see me awake. Lots of tears. It must have been bad. Again, I’m happy for the tiny bit of memory loss.
“Dorothy, no! Come back here,” my mom calls, slipping out of the room. “Don’t be scared off. It’s just family. Come in, dear.” She ushers Dorothy into the room.
Dorothy still has on her work scrubs, red with a royal blue undershirt and royal blue Nikes. Tucking her hair behind her ears, her gaze darts around the roomful of people. Her discomfort can’t be as bad as mine, but I still feel a pang of unease on her behalf.
“Dorfee!” Roman runs to her and gives her a high five.
Julie’s expression stays neutral, like she’s trying to act unaffected, but even with only one working eye at the moment, I don’t miss her tiny flinch.
“Little Romeo, I’ve missed you.” Dorothy smiles at Roman before finally giving me her gaze.
I need those honest eyes on me. They tell me everything she’s afraid to say.
“I fear we’re going to get in trouble for having too many people in here. Why don’t we grab dinner?” Mom suggests.
Everyone says goodnight to me while Dorothy backs into the corner of the room like she’s trying to disappear.
“Come here.” I hold out my hand after the door to the room closes and it’s just us.
“Thanks for not dying.” She laughs nervously while taking my hand.
“You’re welcome.” I ease my hand up so our palms are flat against each other.
She stares at our hands as I lace our fingers together.
“I love you.”
Her gaze shoots to mine, eyes wide, lips parted.
“I do. And I tried to die without saying it. And that was just stupid on my part. So in case I throw a clot or take some unexpected turn, I just want you to know. I love you, Dorothy Mayhem.”
It’s not that I intend for my declaration to be a surprise, but clearly it’s quite the shocker. I chuckle then grimace. My ribs aren’t ready for laughter. “It’s not a question. Okay? It requires no answer, no acknowledgment.”
She nods slowly, returning her gaze to our interlaced fingers. I bring them to my face, gently brushing my lips (kinda swollen lips) over her fingers. Dorothy has a way of taking away my pain, and I feel certain she has no idea the effect she has on me.
“I fear I could fall behind with closing my rings for a while.”
A smile forms along her perfect lips. “Ya think?”
“I’m glad you came over the other night. I might need those memories to make it through the healing process.”
Her cheeks bloom red. “I was reading about orgasms.”
Yeah, I love her. And I feel certain I will die a happy man if she starts every conversation with “I was reading about orgasms.”
She continues, “You know the Lazarus reflex?”
“Yes.”
“Well, did you know that if you were only being kept alive by machines, so basically dead, that as long as your sacral nerve is being oxygenated, you can be stimulated to have an orgasm? Like giving a dead person an orgasm. That’d be the way to go out, right?”
It all hurts so bad, but so very good at the same time. My grin pulls at my swollen lip, and my laughter pulls at my fractured ribs, but I welcome the pain because Dorothy Mayhem makes life pretty fucking amazing. “Do I want to know how this all came about?”
She shrugs. “Just something I thought about when they didn’t know if you’d wake up.”
“Were you going to suggest I get one last orgasm before they unplugged me? Please say yes. If you do, I think I’ll make sure you’re legally responsible for making all final decisions for me if I go under again.”
Dorothy giggles. “I’ve seen ultrasounds of babies masturbating in the womb. It’s only fitting to go out with the same simple-minded pleasure with which you came into this world.”
The question begs to be asked … why was Dorothy so thoroughly researching orgasms? But I don’t ask the question because it’s Dorothy Mayhem. I expect the unexpected from her. It’s one of the things that made me fall so fast and so hard for her.