I wanna thank you falettinme be mice elf agin.
--Sly & the Family Stone
Gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro.
Dignum et justum est.
--Missale Romanum, preface to Eucharist
"You mailed off the birthday card for Kate and Tess?" Luka watched Kerry cleaning in the kitchen, a little puzzled by her sudden burst of domestic activity, and adjusted his tie again. He felt encouraged that Carter's grandparents - Kerry's parents - were making another effort to include Kerry and himself in this family gathering - the last attempt had been a little less than successful... unless every Carter family gathering ended with screaming, crying, fainting spells and dishes thrown.
It had actually reminded him of the last time his uncle had hosted a Christmas dinner: Uncle Stepan could burn water, but fancied himself a gourmet chef (at least his sister - Luka's mother - had always been realistic about her lack of cooking ability). Luka had been introducing Danijela to his family at that point, and she hadn't taken him seriously when he warned her to eat well before dinner. He'd thought that he'd completely blown his chances with her, when he saw her turn a little green at the sight of what used to be a fine leg of lamb.
"Yeah," he said. "It went out yesterday. You're nervous about dinner tonight?"
"Guess I am... the butterflies in my stomach have butterflies." He thought about that for a moment, then nodded.
"And Carter - John - is going to show up, too?" He just couldn't get out of the habit of calling the guy by his last name... strange for him, since he respected Car-- John's medical skills and saw formality as an expression of lack of confidence. And yet, John was "Carter", and Malucci - whose abilities were so frequently maligned by the staff - was "Dave".
"As far as I know. Apparently he wanted to bring along Abby - for moral support, of course, not as a 'date' - but she wanted to stay home and keep an eye on her own mother." Kerry sniffed gingerly at the remains of the coffee in Luka's mug, before dumping it down the sink and rinsing the cup. Ewww... for some reason, lately it smelled even worse than it usually did. She would have thought that she should be getting used to the smell by now, as long as they'd been living together. She shrugged, and whipped off her apron.
Luka took it from her and hung it up on its peg on the wall, as she tossed her cleaning rag into the sink and dried her hands. "Ready to go, Kerry? Or do you have something else to do, to put off going to dinner with your relatives?" She glared at him - he wasn't even pretending to hide his amusement at her delaying tactics - and limped over to him; she readjusted his tie and then used it to pull him down for a kiss.
"Are you sure we can't just stay home and order in something? We don't have to eat turkey." He stared down at those beautiful gray-green eyes, and regretfully shook his head.
"No... we promised Millicent that we'd be there, so we have to show up. And I must admit that I'm curious to see how people with that kind of money celebrate a day like Thanksgiving."
"Meanwhile, I'll be by the door, trying to chew my own arm off." He took her hand and kissed it.
"No, your arms are much too pretty for you to chew on them. Besides, this is the first year in a long time that I've had anything to feel thankful about... and as crazy as dinner will probably be, it's still family dinner." She hugged him, and laughed.
"So you're just as eager for this?" He smiled faintly, and brushed back some hair that had escaped from her braid.
"Hmmm... I wouldn't say eager... not really. I'm sure I'll be very happy when the night's over, and I have you all to myself again." He draped his arm around her and led her to the front closet, where they collected their coats and got their shoes on. They then went out to his car; they'd fallen into the habit of taking it when they went someplace together, since it ran better than Kerry's car, and she'd found that she didn't mind leaving the driving to him. He was sometimes a little excitable in morning traffic, muttering at the other drivers in rather dire-sounding Croatian and restraining himself from making obscene gestures with obvious effort, but overall he was a good driver.
"Have you noticed anything odd about the way Carter has been behaving lately?" He fiddled with the radio tuner as he asked the question, trying to get WBEZ to come in a little better - he liked to listen to the news, and jazz would be on by the time dinner was over and they were heading home.
"Such as?" He shook his head and started up the car, and held off on answering until he'd pulled out of the space and begun driving.
"I don't know. I tried to talk to Mark about it, earlier, but he was in a rush to go somewhere. There was a patient who Carter had been treating for leg pain... he'd assumed that the guy was faking it, in order to get drugs, so the guy walked out AMA and then collapsed at the El stop right near the hospital. Carter brought him in, and wanted to give tPA - the tech had done an ultrasound, as well as an x-ray, that showed a blood clot in the leg, that apparently broke loose and went to the man's lung - but he didn't want to take the time to go over the checklist. Carter went ahead and administered the tPA, while Chuny was coming to get me." Kerry rubbed her forehead wearily... she wasn't even all that fond of the idea of giving tPA to stroke patients, and John had given it to treat a pulmonary embolism?
"What was the result?"
"The patient responded well, fortunately. He's been admitted for observation and further tests." Luka wasn't a man who was offended by being proven wrong, as long as the patient made out all right in the end. He just didn't like Carter's habit of going off and doing his own thing without letting an attending know what was going on - maybe if Carter had come and got him for that Benadryl overdose, he could have made a stronger case to Dr Krupp in favor of starting dialysis, before the patient crashed like that.
"That's good. The last thing I need is for a patient to die because one of the residents refused to listen to an attending." She hesitated a moment. "Wasn't there an occasion, back in the spring, when something similar happened between you and Carter?"
"Yeah. He floated a Swan to sample blood from the patient's heart, and found there was a hole preventing oxygenated blood from getting around to the rest of the body. But the problem there, of course, was that he didn't talk to me before he did it, just charged ahead on his own."
"Have you seen any signs that he might have started using again?" Luka thought for a moment, then shook his head and exhaled gustily.
"No, I haven't noticed that kind of behavior from him - although a blood test would be a good idea, just to be sure - I think he's just being an, uh, ass."
* * *
Jing-Mei shook her head. What a day! She'd run the test on Dr Corday herself, and it was official: Dr Greene and Dr Corday would, at some time in the spring, become parents. And the day wasn't over... she still had dinner with her family and their friends to get through. She trudged up to the doors in the back of the house that led to the kitchen and stepped inside, savoring the instant wave of warmth and good smells that greeted her.
"Jing-Mei!" Oh, great... look who decided to come back in the kitchen. Jing-Mei had been hoping that she'd have some time to herself back here, maybe catch up on gossip with the servants and sneak a taste of the main course before everyone started showing up.
"Uh, Mommy. Hi." Wenxin Chen eyed Jing-Mei coolly... her eyes sliding down to the prominent belly that bulged out under the raincoat. "Uh... yeah. About that."
"I noticed 'that' earlier," Mrs Chen said dryly. "I assume that's why you haven't been by the house lately, and haven't been taking my calls?"
Jing-Mei nodded miserably. "I didn't want you or Daddy to find out about it, because I knew you'd be disappointed in me."
"Your father will be fine with it, Jing-Mei. You underestimate us." As always, her expression and tone of voice said. Jing-Mei's temper (her most unfortunate trait, Jian-Xin had always said... very unbecoming to a proper young Chinese lady!) rose up.
"The father of the baby is black, Mommy. Is Daddy going to be fine with that?!?" Wenxin's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped slightly open. Jing-Mei saw anger in her mother's eyes, and scowled. "That's what I thought." She turned on her heel before her mother had a chance to say anything, and marched-- well, waddled out of the house; dignified exits were a little difficult, she thought, when one was coming up on one's due date!
Dr Wenxin Chen watched her daughter flee the house, and sighed. She'd been shocked to hear that the father of her grandchild was black, to be sure, but that was more because she'd already decided that the father was that young doctor who'd pulled Jing-Mei away to help him with a patient... what was his name? Oh, yes... John Carter. That timing had been just a little too convenient! And... yes, she was angry. But she was mostly angry that Jing-Mei hadn't felt as though she could come to her or Jian-Xin well before now. As disappointed as she was that Jing-Mei had become pregnant outside of marriage, her daughter was taking responsibility for her actions and going through with the pregnancy: she could have had an early abortion, and nobody would ever have known.
* * *
"What do you mean, there was an explosion in Curtain Area Three?" Luka had just relinquished his Volvo to a valet, and they were strolling in the direction of the house, hand in hand. Things had become just a little too interesting after she went home for the day, Kerry decided. At least she wasn't in charge of the pharmacy, too - that supervisor would undoubtedly have a lot of explaining to do, what with some of the techs running a crystal methamphetamine lab in the hospital basement.
And somehow a bag of ether, that the techs had been smuggling for meth production in bags marked as saline, had found its way into the ER's stock, and had nearly been hooked up to a patient's IV... Lydia had - without realizing what was really in the bag - dribbled some out, into a pan where she'd had the patient put out his cigarette. And that, apparently, had been when and how the explosion happened.
"Not a very big explosion," Luka explained. "Luckily, there were only two people in there, and Carter and I got them out safely. Dave talked to the fire chief, Dannaker, who was able to fill us in on the details."
The explosion had scared the hell out of him, although he didn't tell Kerry that. His instinct had been to dive for cover, but he'd simply dodged the fireball that came from the open door of Curtain Area Three-- "simply"? There'd been nothing simple about slamming back against the far wall, then wading into the room through smoke and flames to help Carter pull out Lydia and the only patient who'd been in there. He'd been terrified... aware of his heart racing, his breathing becoming shallow... and there was no way the sweat had been from the heat of the fire!
Lydia had been okay, fortunately - just a cracked rib and a little smoke inhalation - and had insisted on going home as planned, to host Thanksgiving dinner for a number of the staff who had the night off but didn't have family in town. She'd pooh-poohed Luka's suggestion that hosting dinner might be a little stressful for her, and admitted that Thanksgiving dinner was just going to be takeout chicken on her good china. "And Chicken Licken delivers, so I don't even have to stop there on my way home. I'll be fine, Luka. Really. And hey... I'll have a bunch of nurses and doctors and techs over at my house, so it's not like nobody will know what to do if I pass out!" She'd grinned at him, then quietly and seriously thanked him for the concern. She wouldn't trade Al for anything, but she sure hoped Dr Weaver appreciated what a catch Dr Kovac was!
* * *
Dave quickly checked his watch, then looked at the very empty waiting area. "It's slowed down for now, Dr LaVelle... can I take my dinner break now?" Harris looked up from the memos that Kerry had left for him, and nodded.
"Sure. We'll page you when the food poisoning and domestic squabbles and overdoses start rolling in."
"Cool. I'm just gonna go across the street - maybe get a turkey sandwich or something."
"Good idea," Harris muttered, already half-absorbed in the material again... Kerry sure could write when she got onto a subject! He suddenly thought of something, and looked up. "Hey, could you grab a couple of ham sandwiches - on white, with mayo - for me on your way back?" He pulled a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to Dave, who saluted briskly and walked out.
His date was already waiting for him in a booth at Doc's. "I was starting to worry about you, Dave - I was afraid you might have changed your mind about meeting me for dinner."
"No way. I just hope I don't get paged before we finish with dinner." That earned him a frown.
"Just so you're not going to have yourself paged in order to skip out on me."
"C'mon, babe... I know I've done that to girls before sometimes, but you're different. Special."
"And how many times have you used that line before?" Dave snorted exasperatedly, in response to that sly little grin.
"So my history is catching up with me? Is that it?"
"Oh, I definitely believe I'm different from the girls you've dated before me!"
"Very funny. Hey, I don't suppose you already ordered?"
"Of course I did. Turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy, right?"
"Yeah, thanks. Ooh!" Their dinner came, and Dave tucked in happily. "Hrbl majgl," he started, then blushed and swallowed the mouthful of food. "Hard to imagine," he tried again, "being so hungry after some of the bloody traumas that come through there."
"You'd starve to death," was the immediate reply. "C'mon... you know you love working those traumas!"
"True, true." Dave grinned, and took another big bite of turkey.
* * *
"Kerry, if you don't mind I'd like to speak with you in the library." Luka squeezed her hand quickly and reassuringly, and watched her as she followed Millicent out of the room. He wasn't having a very good time so far tonight - a record number of Carters had shown up tonight, and he was starting to feel claustrophobic. The women were flirting with him, and the men were talking down to him, as though he were some kind of hick who'd just come over from the Old Country, and all he really wanted to do was enjoy a small, quiet dinner with Kerry, at home.
He wondered if any of these people knew enough about medicine that they'd know he was lying, if he were to plead a headache from their mugging three weeks ago. At least if John were here, he'd have someone here he could talk to - if just on the strained terms they'd been on earlier - and where was the guy, anyway?
He became aware that the others were looking at him expectantly. "Sorry?"
"I said," the man who'd been introduced to him as Branch - or was it Douglas? Burton, perhaps? "That's an interesting accent. Are you Russian?" Luka wasn't sure how he managed to keep from rolling his eyes at that - perhaps it was the idea that came to him at that point, that kept him from insulting the lot of them, collecting Kerry, and leaving.
"No, I'm Croatian. If you like, I could teach you some phrases that are very useful there."
* * *
Millicent gestured to a chair next to the desk, and watched her youngest daughter limp over to it and sit down. She still regretted that Kerry had grown up feeling so awkward and unwanted, because of the problems with her hips - after that first meeting with Kerry, she'd briefly entertained thoughts of finding George and Marie Holmes, and making them pay for rejecting a baby that had been physically imperfect. She had thought, after all, that she was giving her late-in-life "oops" baby a good, secure home. On the other hand, she could have followed up, made sure that her baby really was happy and in a good, secure home. At least Kerry seemed to have grown up as an essentially well-adjusted individual, which was probably better than she would have done if she'd grown up as a Carter.
"Did you get the paperwork from your lawyers?" Kerry assumed that her mother had wanted to speak with her about the details of what her own lawyer had drawn up.
"To which paperwork are you referring, dear?"
"The papers I'd offered to sign, giving up any legal claim I might have had on the Carter name and money."
"Oh, that. Yes," Millicent waved her hand dismissively. "Those are all ready, Kerry. My lawyers and I have made one or two changes, though."
"Changes?" Kerry wasn't aware that she was picking anxiously at her palm with the thumb of her other hand, but Millicent noticed the tic with some interest. She'd observed Luka doing the same thing, and wondered which of them had picked it up from the other.
"Changes. For instance, I've made provisions for any future children of yours. No strings, I assure you, but neither you nor Dr Kovac will be able to use the money for your own purposes, and if you've had no children by the time you reach menopause, the money reverts to the main fund. Myself, I wanted to set aside money for you, but it was your young Dr Kovac's idea to keep the money away from the two of you. I like him."
"Oh. Um." Kerry smiled nervously. "I'm pretty fond of him, too." Millicent leaned across the desk, and smiled conspiratorially.
"I can tell. Have you made any marriage plans yet?"
"He hasn't asked me." Millicent clucked her tongue disapprovingly.
"My dear, if you really want something, you have to go after it - or him - with everything you have."
"He's very old-fashioned," Kerry protested, but Millicent simply waved aside that argument.
"I'm sure he's been trying to figure out how to ask you. He loves you very much, you know. It might be a relief to him, if you asked him." She saw the doubt in Kerry's eyes, and sighed. "Only two people in the world know this, Kerry, but your father and I would never have got married if I hadn't asked him to marry me. He was willing - he said yes immediately - but he'd just never known how to ask me. Until I asked him. Nobody ever has to know who asked who..."
"What if he says no?" Millicent promptly horrified Kerry by laughing.
"Kerry, that's the risk any man takes when he proposes! If women want the same rights as men, they must accept the same risks and responsibilities as men."
* * *
Luka had just finished teaching some of the Carters how to hail a taxi in downtown Zagreb by calling out "Pushi kurac!" when he saw the door to the library open, and Millicent and Kerry emerged. He immediately stood up and went to Kerry's side; he'd noticed that her hip seemed to be bothering her a little tonight, and he offered his arm for her to lean on as the lot of them headed for the dining room.
Dinner was mercifully quiet, and free of any histrionics, though Luka's headache was quickly becoming real. The person who he'd decided was named "Branch" was heartily making up for Luka's decision to stick with water by tossing down bourbon as if it were... well... water. At least the food was excellent... this was in definite contrast to Uncle Stepan's dinners, where the food had been worse than lousy, but the company had been very amiable. Stepan, who'd been too dense to realize why Danijela had turned that shade of green, had assumed that she was simply nervous, and had gently flirted with her in that way he had... impossible to take seriously, but guaranteed to put a person at ease. It had taken Luka a long time to figure out the real reason that Stepan was still unmarried, but at least Stepan's long-term "friendship" with Zeljko Jovanovic had made a lot more sense at that point.
He tried pretending that he and Kerry were the only ones at the table, but was shocked out of that illusion by the bare foot that began stroking his leg. His eyes widened slightly in horror; there was no way that foot belonged to Kerry. And he didn't want to turn to try to see who it was, either, since that could be construed as encouragement... he had a vague recollection that the owner of that foot was either a cousin named "Clara", who was about ten years older than God, or a fellow - a close friend of the family - who had been introduced to him as Herbert... and now Luka was worried that he'd look right at the guy after dinner, and call him Pervert.
Overall, he was reminded of an old pop song, with a line about "clowns to left of me, jokers to the right, here I am: stuck in the middle with you"... he wondered, trying to keep from becoming hysterical, where the homicidal maniac with the duct tape and razor and can of gasoline was.
The end of dinner didn't come nearly fast enough for him - although the strawberry tarts served for dessert were very tasty - and he and Kerry made a hasty exit, pleading an early shift tomorrow. "Did you have a good time tonight?" He shrugged; at least the valet was on the ball, and was already bringing the Volvo around.
"They aren't exactly my first choice of people I'd want stranded on a desert island with me." There was something about the tone of his voice, though, that made her suspicious.
"What did you do?"
"What makes you think I 'did' anything?" She realized what it was about his voice - he was trying too hard to sound innocent.
"Luka..." she warned him.
"Let's just say that if any of them find themselves in Zagreb, and try to ask for a hotel room, a taxi cab or a rental car, they'll have a very interesting time of it." She stared at him in disbelief, trying to keep from laughing... it wasn't funny! It wasn't!
"Oh, you didn't."
"Don't worry. Their accents are lousy enough that they'll just offend a few people, but it'll be obvious soon enough that they meant no harm." She sighed, and squeezed his hand... at least there was no danger of being bored, living with Luka!
* * *
They'd just got home, and were on their way upstairs for the night, when somebody knocked on the door. "Go on upstairs, Kerry, I'll see who it is." He peered through the fisheye, and groaned. Great. He was tempted to let Carter stand outside, on the porch, all night, but he'd been raised too well to be so rude. And... the guy was family, even if he'd had enough of the clan, en masse, to last him a very long time.
"Hi, Carter. We missed you at dinner tonight."
"Sorry about that." Luka laughed sharply.
"Trust me, you didn't miss anything. It was a very... um... ordinary evening, all things considered. So what happened to you?"
"Uh, I ran into Jing-Mei. Not literally, of course--" he mimed smacking into something, "but she'd left her parents' house and she was upset... and hungry, because she'd left before dinner. So, we went and got a bite to eat, and we talked for a couple of hours. And then I drove her home, and then I came here - nothing happened between us." Carter's tone was defiant, the way it had been several times today, already.
"Is there a problem?" He was puzzled by the attitude Carter sometimes had; the man was friendly enough much of the time, but then other times he was apt to argue with every decision of Luka's seemingly because it was his.
"Why should there be a problem?" No, Luka decided, it wasn't his imagination - there was some kind of hostility in Carter's voice.
"You tell me," Luka said wearily. "Did you have a chance to stop by Abby's later and say hello?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's called polite conversation, John. I'd heard that--"
"No, you're implying there's something going on between me and Abby!" Luka sighed.
"Personally, I really don't care if you're screwing her in the basement during your lunch breaks, as long as it doesn't get in the way of your work, and as long as you don't hurt her. She's a nice girl, and you shouldn't even be getting involved in something like that anyway, at this stage in your recovery."
"Oh, got your eye on her yourself?" Luka raised his eyebrows, startled by Carter's tone.
"That doesn't even deserve a response," he told Carter coldly. "Perhaps you should call your sponsor and talk to her, or go to a meeting, if you're going to be insulting." Carter glanced over Luka's shoulder, at the stairway.
"Oh? Kerry's waiting for you to come upstairs? Hey, Kerry!"
* * *
Luka grumbled as he got undressed and crawled into bed next to Kerry. He'd finally got Carter to leave, but he wondered what the hell the guy's problem was... rude, obnoxious, condescending... he just didn't want to think about it anymore tonight! He cupped one of Kerry's breasts, and wondered if it was just his imagination, that they felt slightly bigger. "You said you got your period?"
"Yeah. Ooh!" She sucked in her breath as he casually fiddled with one of her nipples. "Those aren't radio dials, you kno--woh!"
"Really? They seem like volume controls to me-- ow!" He laughed when she swatted him, and nuzzled her neck until she began giggling.
"That tickles," she gasped, then sighed as he changed tactics. "Mm, and that feels good," she purred; that was the last coherent thing she said for the next twenty minutes. "Wow," was the first thing she said after that.
He rested his head on her chest, still breathing heavily, as she caressed his hair. "Wow" was right - he could feel his pulse racing from the exertion, and he was pretty sure he'd lost consciousness for a moment, at one point. He took a quick mental inventory, decided that he hadn't blown a gasket, and sighed happily... only vaguely aware, on a subliminal level, of the way his hand was caressing her as her delicate fingers gently tickled the back of his neck. He'd nearly fallen asleep by the time she spoke next. "Luka?"
"Hrmmmm?"
"You know I love you, right?"
"Mmm-hmmm...."
"And I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally...."
"As long as you're not planning on telling me that you're running off with Malucci," he teased sleepily, then tensed and raised himself up slightly as he absorbed what she'd said. "You aren't leaving me, are you?" The fear was obvious in his voice, and she pushed his head back down.
"No. Nothing like that, although you might change your mind once I tell you what happened." He sat up, so he could look her in the eye, and wondered why she looked so nervous... and a little guilty.
"Kerry, you're scaring me. You're blunt, you don't hit around the bush. I like that. Just... say what you're thinking."
"Before she left County, when I went back to work after the mugging, when you were at home in bed, uh... I don't know whether it was a last-gasp effort, or what, but Kim kissed me."
"Oh." He looked away from her for a moment, then back. "I assume you kissed her back, otherwise you wouldn't be mentioning this." She bowed her head.
"For a moment I did, and then I pulled away from her."
"And... you liked it." His voice was small and scared, and a little worried.
"Yes. And then I got sick, and I felt bad because of that." He brushed his fingers down her cheek and traced a line down the side of her neck.
"Why? I mean, why did you feel bad about that?"
"Because I felt like such a hypocrite - gay friends, and I react that way to actually being kissed by a gay coworker!"
"Did you ask her to kiss you?"
"Not in so many words, but--" He frowned.
"But nothing. If a straight man had done the same thing, in the same situation, how would you have reacted?"
"Honestly? Slapped him, probably."
"Well then? Why should you feel bad about it?"
"So you're okay with what happened?
"I didn't say that. I'm not happy that she kissed you, and I'm not happy that you kissed her back. And I'm sorry you threw up afterwards." He punctuated his statements with little kisses. "But to be perfectly honest and selfish, I'm glad that I beat her for your affections."
"For my love," she corrected him, and he grinned.
"You love me, do you?"
"Te volim, I do." She gave him a flirty little smile, and he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, very lightly.
"Good. Can we please get some sleep now?"
* * *
Mark watched Elizabeth sleeping peacefully next to him. Pregnant. God. He and Elizabeth would have a baby... Rachel would have a little brother or little sister. He knew he was gonna have to tell her his news eventually, especially since it would affect her life - and the baby's life - so deeply, but she'd been so excited to learn about the baby that he hadn't had the heart to spoil it for her.
How, he wondered, was he going to tell Elizabeth that something was nesting... growing... in his frontal cortex? He'd always tended to be pessimistic, just waiting for the universe to come through with its next grim punchline and, it seemed, the universe had once again answered his eternal question of "what NOW?!?"
He reached out to touch Elizabeth's mass of red curls on the pillow
next to him, and tried not to feel sorry for himself... he had an
appointment in a few days with a neurosurgeon that Dr Tobiason had
recommended, and... then he'd know more. Oh, god!
POST-OPERATIVE NOTES: