Kerry parked her car, and just sat behind the wheel for a moment...
trying to gather herself to go inside that hospital for
the first time in several weeks. She hadn't even had to show up to pick
up her paychecks - she'd signed up to have her
salary deposited directly into her bank account as soon as the program
had become available to hospital staff, since she
so rarely had free time during her shifts to go to the bank (and these
days, she was sometimes so tired after a shift that she
just wanted to go home... maybe take a nice hot bubble bath, and then
curl up in bed with a good Croat).
Okay, it's not going to get any easier, she told
herself sternly, and you don't want to be late your first
day back, so just get
out of the car and march right on in there! She opened the door and
swung her legs out, reaching back to grab her crutch so
she could lever herself up and out of the car.
Randi was the first person she encountered on her way in - the woman
rolled her eyes and shoved a stack of message slips
across the counter at Kerry, who began leafing through them,
automatically sorting them. "Welcome back, Dr Weaver."
"Thanks, Randi. How's your foot doing?" Randi grimaced, and shrugged.
"Still a little bruised, but it's okay." No thanks to your
boyfriend, she felt like adding. She hadn't actually heard
anything
about them - oh, those two had played it cool enough at that impromptu
Easter party that Jeanie had organized - but Randi
had a nose for these things. After Dr Kovac had dropped her off at the
apartment she shared with a waitress and a hairdresser,
she'd put a new ice pack on her foot and lay down on the couch with her
iced foot propped up on the armrest... just thinking,
and putting together pieces.
She'd mentally compared Dr Weaver's voice with that of that whiny
broad who'd been calling for Dr Kovac over, well, the
period of time Dr Weaver'd been out on suspension (if Genevieve Bailey
called again, now that Dr Weaver was back,
Randi swore she'd eat her Randi-Wear leisure top... the
one with all the sequins and the deeply plunging neckline), and
thought of the looks she'd seen go back and forth between
them over the last few months... all the times that it had seemed
like they were about to kiss, or touch, but changed their minds at the
last minute. In retrospect, it seemed so obvious that
there was something going on between those two.
She'd initially been tempted to spread it around - gossip didn't get
any juicier than Weaver having a sex life! - but finally
decided against it: they were kinda cute, and their attempts to keep
their affair - she was almost positive they were sleeping
together, if not shacked up - secret were equally cute.
* * *
Romano had been lurking in the area, keeping an eye on the door and
the clock, and waited until he saw Kerry head for the
lounge - he went straight in after her. "Welcome back, Kerry," he told
her, as she headed for her locker. She rolled her eyes,
since she still had her back to him. Weasel. "Was the last few weeks
long enough for you to rethink some of your professional
choices?"
"Was the last few weeks long enough for you to get buried down here
with Mark Greene taking a little extra time off, too?"
And with Mark Greene in charge, she thought, a little
nervous about the backlog that was undoubtedly waiting for her. It was
bad enough after a day off, but she'd been gone several weeks now. Luka
had warned her that they were out of several different
kinds of forms - Romano hadn't seemed to be interested in taking care
of ordering more, had instead unloaded extra forms from
one of the other departments on them, which was going to make chart
review very interesting for the next month or so.
"Oh, it wasn't too bad, with everybody pulling on the
same oar." Of course, Romano mused, he'd had some people
pulling
harder than others. "And of course I was down here in the trenches,
helping out the troops." She put her coat in her locker,
then quickly pulled out her labcoat and put it on. She really hadn't
intended to take off her coat in front of Romano - she'd
worn the sleeveless shirt today because she and Luka had made plans to
go out for dinner tonight, after her shift, to celebrate
her return to work. He watched her hang her purse on the hook in her
locker with deliberate care. "You didn't answer my
question."
"And I don't intend to," she shot back, as she looped her
stethoscope around her neck. He hmmed, and chuckled nastily... and
Kerry wanted to take her stethoscope back off and use it to throttle
him. What the heck, the students always needed cadavers,
for practicing procedures.
"Well, I'm going to take your return to work as a sign that you have
decided to play by the rules. I didn't appoint you chief,
just so you can go all soft and mushy. Remember, you're here in this
job as long as I say you are. Got that?"
"Yes." He stared at her suspiciously for a moment, then decided he'd had enough fun for now.
"Good! As long as we understand each other." That is, as long as you
understand where you fit into the power scheme around
here, he thought. That is, I have all the power, and you have only as
much as I choose to give you, for as long as I choose. "Now,
I have surgery to attend to, so I will let you get on with your
day." He bustled out of the lounge, unaware of the if-looks-could-
kill glare Kerry sent after him.
She wondered if she could convince any witnesses to testify in court
that they'd seen Romano go up to the roof on his own, beat
himself on the head several times with a 2 x 4, and then throw himself
over the edge. Convince? Hell, they'd probably help.
* * *
Luka glanced up from a chart he'd just plucked from the rack, and
saw Kerry emerge from the lounge and head in the direction
of the desk. He'd seen Romano come out about a minute earlier, looking
like a cat (well... a rather hairless cat, anyway) with
cream on its whiskers; he'd been with a patient when Kerry arrived, but
Randi had let him know that she was here, and that
Romano was in there with her. She'd given him an odd look then, that
completely baffled him.
"Kerry. Good to have you back here," he told her. He'd actually last
seen her only last night, but he was genuinely happy that
she was back at work. If he'd had any doubts about shooting for the
position of department chief, they would have been wiped
away by a week of finding himself scheduled to work another shift
almost every time he turned around: he did not want to be
the one in charge of this madhouse!
"Thank you. It's good to be back." Randi watched them,
a little amused now that she knew the score. She wondered how she'd
ever missed the sly little glances they exchanged, the way his eyes
lingered on Dr Weaver. And Dr Weaver certainly didn't
seem to miss much about him, either.
"I'm going to go try to get caught up on paperwork - I'll be in the
suture room, if you need me." Luka watched Kerry crutch away
with the armload of papers, unaware that Randi was, in turn, watching
the wistful expression on his face.
* * *
"Carter, can I get your help with an LP?"
"Huh? Sure, no problem, Dr Kovac." Carter was a little nervous about
this, actually - he hadn't been anywhere near a tap since
February - but he didn't want to look like some kind of weakling in
front of anybody, let alone an attending. Gramps had
always
got on him about that, about not showing your weaknesses... it was why
he'd always had to do his grieving for Bobby in private.
"Great, thanks," Luka said. He was completely unaware of Carter's
inner turmoil - the younger man had done such a thorough job
of blocking off his emotions that even he wasn't
consciously aware of all of them - and they went to Exam 2, where
little Edgar
waited.
"You're thinking he might have meningitis?" Luka shrugged.
"He has a fever and he's been vomiting," he said, thinking of the
way the child had very nearly thrown up all over him - Conni
had passed him an emesis basin just in time for him to stick it under
Edgar's face. "And he's been complaining of headaches. So,
that does have to ruled out." They moved to opposite sides of the bed,
and Carter pointed to the boy, who was lying limply on the
bed, on his side.
"He's lethargic, too?"
"He's a little sleepy... I gave him some Versed," Conni explained quietly, and Carter nodded.
Now that Luka had someone to help him, he could administer the
actual numbing agents to Edgar's back. He gloved up, and prepared
to start. "Roll him into a ball," he quietly directed Carter. "Okay...
good." He carefully injected the lidocaine - too intent on what he
was doing to see that Carter was staring at the syringe as the needle
went in - and didn't see that Carter looked away and down as he
changed to a 22 gauge needle and began the actual tap.
His attention was focused solely on little Edgar, and getting a good
clean draw, so it wasn't until he had finished, and thanked the
other doctor, that he looked up and noticed that Carter had frozen, and
was still holding Edgar in that curled-up position. "Carter?"
he repeated. "Thank you." Carter blinked, and shook off his fog, then
nodded vaguely and walked away.
Luka watched Carter go, and frowned. How odd! Maybe Kerry should
know about this. It never occurred to him that Carter might
have been spooked by the procedure - Luka would have expected him to
speak up if he had a problem. Or at least that's what his
therapist should have been teaching him... it was Luka's understanding
that Carter was seeing somebody.
He got distracted, unfortunately, in the course of ordering tests on
the vials of spinal fluid, and then immediately afterwards taking
care of a woman - shot several times - who was brought in by her
friends, and he had forgotten about the incident by the time he
was free again; he didn't think about it again until much later, when
it was too late to do any good.
* * *
On his way to drop off the chart on that GSW, he came upon Carol and
the other nurses discussing different kinds of cars; that
was so not his field of expertise (if it were, he
supposed, he wouldn't be driving an old Saab that was almost in the
shop more
than it was drivable). He nearly found himself dragooned into
accompanying her on an expedition to buy a "new" used car - on
the theory that a man should always go along when buying
a car - but was relieved to spot Dave, heading for the door on his way
out. "Dave! C'mere, will you?" Carol, he could see, was beginning to
look a bit balky; she clearly saw what he had in mind, and
just as clearly didn't care for the idea.
"Yo... what's up, boss?"
"You fixed Dr Weaver's car a few months back, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"So you would know something about choosing good cars?"
"Well, I don't wanna brag, but--" Luka interrupted Dave's threat to begin blowing his own horn.
"Okay. Carol is wanting to buy a used car. Would you be willing to help her find something?
"Sure, sure. My middle name is 'Used Cars', after all."
"I thought it was 'Automotive Repair'," Kerry snidely interjected,
without looking up from her perusal of requisition forms
(forms to order forms, she thought... somebody in bureaucracy obviously
had a strange sense of humor). Luka kicked her, very
gently, under the counter - barely a nudge with his foot, against her
ankle - but the glare he caught out of the corner of his eye,
over the top of her glasses, promised retribution, later.
"That's still one up on me," Luka cheerfully admitted to Dave. "I'm helpless when it comes to cars."
"Luka, you're a guy," Carol protested. "How can you not
know anything about cars?" He patted back a yawn; he was still several
hours away from the end of his shift, and he was more than ready to go
home.
"So? You're a woman, and you can't cook," he calmly replied - though
he had to admit that she made one hell of an eggnog - which
caused Dave to start laughing raucously. He glared at the young
resident, who promptly cut off in mid-giggle. "You had something
better in mind to do, Dave?"
"Nah, nah," Dave admitted. "C'mon, Carol. We'll hit the El, and go
find ya that lemon." Carol looked less than reassured by the
idea, and cast a panicked, pleading glance over her shoulder as Dave
led her away.
"You realize they're going to kill each other, don't you?" Luka
shrugged at Kerry's question, and touched her shoulder gently as
he passed behind her; he needed to get to the chart rack anyway, and
had wanted an excuse to touch her. It was frustrating to need
an excuse to touch her in public, but he was willing to go along with
what she wanted. The things I do for love, he thought resignedly.
"And you'd be disappointed over Dave meeting such an end?"
"We'd be down a doctor, then. And Dave isn't much, but he isn't the
worst we could have." Like Amanda Lee, she refrained from
saying - Luka had no way of knowing who "Amanda Lee" was.
"Mm. He does have potential... if he would just pay attention to
what he's doing, instead of spending most of his time screwing
around and flirting with every woman who comes within range." She
laughed softly at the little growl in his voice.
"You're not jealous, are you?" He turned to stare at her.
"Should I be jealous of Malucci?" She tried to keep a straight face, but her giggles kept breaking through in little snorts and gasps.
"No, no. Really. I've developed too much of a fondness for 'tall, dark and handsome'."
"Good. You know, there's still some chocolate left over from last Sunday."
"Uh-huh..." she invited him to continue, smiling a little as she
nibbled at the end of her pen, but was dismayed when he merely
placed one of the small foil-wrapped chocolates in front of her. "What?
No dirty talk?"
"I think you already know what I want to do, huh?" She
heard crinkling, and looked at him... he was unwrapping a kiss. She
blushed at the way he smiled at her... slow and lazy, desire all too
evident in his eyes, as he popped the chocolate into his
mouth. "So you're going to take over Edgar?"
"If you don't mind." He wondered if she had any idea how appealing
she looked with that expression on her face; he almost
hoped not, because then she'd be completely unstoppable. As it was, she
was pretty damned close to it, as far as he was
concerned.
"Go. Everything's on the chart - the LP was negative, but we're still waiting on some of the labs."
* * *
She headed for Exam 2, intent on checking over little Edgar. Since
his mother was a nurse, up in ICU, she had seen him on
previous occasions as he and his mother came and went, but had never
actually spoken to the boy. Cute kid, she thought idly,
and wondered - once again - what kind of children she and Luka would
have... when, or if, they ever did. Too much like him,
she suspected, and they would both go completely nuts, trying to keep
up.
She didn't believe for a moment Luka's claim that he had always been
a perfect little angel as a child - for one thing, there
was that gleam he got in his eyes when he told that story... very much
like the gleam he'd had in his eyes as he calmly agreed
with a paranoid patient, while waiting on a psych consult, that yes, he
was indeed a KGB agent, with that accent. "But I
forgot my spy equipment at home," he'd told the patient mournfully.
"I'm not a very good spy, you see." She'd been too busy
trying not to laugh to pull him aside and tell him to knock it off.
She was pretty sure that his parents must have put the Parents'
Curse on him: "May you have children who are exactly like
you!"... from what he'd told her about Marko, the little boy had been
an early manifestation of the "curse". She, on the other
hand, while she had probably worried her parents sometimes, had
basically been a good kid. Okay, maybe not that good, but
how much trouble could a girl get into, when she wore leg braces and
walked with crutches? Though she had sure been good
at thinking up ways to get into trouble... if the jocks
had bothered to ask her, for instance, she could have told them how to
steal the principal's Buick and park it in the gym without
getting caught and suspended, en masse.
When Edgar saw her enter the room, though, he gave her what Malucci
called the "hairy eyeball". "What's she got? What's that
stick?" he wailed, and Conni tried - unsuccessfully - to get him
settled down as Kerry also tried to calm him, her hands out in a
"peace, no weapons" gesture. "Get her away from me! Don't let her touch
me! No!" And he suddenly squirmed out of Conni's
arms, and was running out of the room, blowing past Kerry, who quickly
turned and followed him out of the room. He was long
gone, of course. Damn.
So much for pediatrics, she told herself mockingly, thinking of
Doug's long-ago gentle praise for the way she'd calmed that little
deaf girl after her seizure. Doug had had such a way with kids...
mostly, she suspected, because he'd never really grown up,
himself. And at the same time, both Luka and Peter had their own way
with kids - both men were completely straightforward
with the children they encountered.
* * *
Luka smiled as Kerry went in to examine Edgar - she showed her
maternal streak at odd times - but lost the smile when he heard
the boy shrieking, and saw him bolt from the room. Kerry emerged a
moment later, looking shaken, and he touched her shoulder
reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it." He nearly bent to
kiss her on the cheek, but recovered in time. Randi didn't miss
the hastily-aborted movement, though.
Edgar wasn't terribly hard to find - Luka just went in the general
direction the child had gone, and occasionally poked his head
into rooms and offices to ask them if they'd seen a small boy in
hospital pajamas, and finally found himself in the cafeteria.
Edgar was sitting at a table by himself, just finishing a bowl of
tapioca pudding.
He dropped to his haunches next to Edgar - with the boy sitting in
the chair, he was looking slightly up at Edgar - and said something
in Croatian. "What did you say?" Edgar demanded, in the same suspicious
tone he'd used when confronted with Kerry and her crutch.
"I said, you're a very naughty boy for running off like that and
scaring Dr. Weaver. C'mon. I'll take you back to your room." He didn't
wait for an answer, but slung Edgar over his shoulder in a fireman's
carry, so the boy dangled upside down. As Luka had expected,
the boy began to giggle and he made sure to bounce Edgar a little as he
walked... making a slight detour to take Edgar's dish to the
conveyor belt that took dirty dishes back to the kitchen area. He knew
they must make a funny sight: he, one of the tallest people at
County, carrying such a small child in such an undignified manner...
especially the way Edgar was laughing. He returned to Exam 2,
and detached Edgar - who seemed ready for another lap of the ER - from
his shoulder, and put him in the bed.
"Now. You stay there. I'll be back later to have a look at you." He
hesitated, then, "Behave, and I'll take you for another ride another
time, like I just did."
"Do you have any kids?" The question came right out of the blue, and Luka felt as though he'd been struck.
"I did. Once," he said quietly, surprised into candor.
"What happened to them?" Edgar was disappointed - new kids to play
with were always welcome, as far as he was concerned, and
he liked the funny way this doctor talked... kids who talked like that
would have been a nice change.
"They were ki-- they died." Edgar didn't seem to noticed Luka's
sudden tension, or mid-sentence change in direction. Conni
noticed, though.
"Oh. That's too bad," Edgar said. He didn't really understand
"died", aside from that it was something that his mom's patients
sometimes did, but he knew it was a bad thing. Except the ones where
the grownups shook their heads and said things like "all
for the best", and talked about vegetables... he hated
eating his vegetables, so he knew that was a bad thing,
too.
"Yeah. Too bad," he echoed, slightly dazed, but gamely tried to
recover. "Stay put," he ordered, with more vigor than he felt,
and - after ordering a saline IV drip for the child (Edgar's spinal tap
had come up negative for meningitis, but his labwork
indicated possible kidney problems... they were going to try
rehydrating him with saline and a little potassium, and see how
he did from there) - left the room.
He wanted to laugh, when he found himself back in the x-ray room - what was it about this room that drew him when he was upset?
* * *
Meanwhile, Dave and Carol were looking at cars... and coming close
to physical violence in the process. "I dunno how this guy
keeps in business - I haven't seen anything yet that's worth your
time." Luka had casually mentioned a car lot that was run by a
guy he knew, where he had bought his own car, and they had gone to
check it out. Dave wasn't too thrilled about the idea of
buying a car from a guy with a name like "Herb", but he supposed that
as long as it was a good car, Carol would be okay. Not
that he'd actually seen any good cars here so far.
"Not that we haven't already spent half the day looking," Carol groused.
"Look, Carol, we can get the very next thing you see. 'Course, it'll
probably break down the moment you get it 500 yards from
the lot, and I'll wind up pushing it somewhere to wait
for a tow truck, but hey! Whatever you wanna do. Your money."
"I didn't even ask you to come," Carol continued, ignoring Dave.
"Yeah, I know you'd rather have Dr Kovac with you instead of me.
Then you could get your crappy little lemon-mobile, and spend
the rest of the day makin' googly-eyes at Dr. Kovac."
"I do not make 'googly-eyes' at Dr. Kovac." The hell
she didn't, Dave thought irritably - he could see the way she stared at
the guy
sometimes. Shoot, most of the women stared at Dr Kovac. (Dave had even
seen Yosh sneaking cautious peeks at Kovac once... he'd
been both amused and confounded by the sight.) He was realistic enough,
though, to know that even if the guy wasn't around, the
women wouldn't magically transfer their attentions to him. It'd be great,
but it wasn't going to happen.
"Well, ya sure got a bug up your butt about something."
Dave was even blunter than usual, and Carol shot him that disgusted
look that
he had grown to know so well; he should, considering that he had put it
there so often in the time he'd been at County. Carol reminded
him so much of his oldest sister, Maria, that it seemed natural to
torment her... whether he was calling her from the pay phone to get
his tests ordered, or making up a counter-rhyme around his sign-out
time, she was dependably annoyable.
"Gawd, Dave, why do you have to be even more of a prick than usual?"
she snarled. "Hey, here's one. A, uh, '91 Mercury Sable...."
She pointed at a small beige station wagon with streamers decorating
its antenna. Dave made a "yuck" face behind her back, but
went closer for a good look.
"Speakin' a' stuff that's probably gonna break down immediately," he
muttered. "Hey!" He hailed one of the salesman, who had
been shadowing them. "Pop the hood on this baby. I wanna see what's in
there."
"Sir, all our cars are in the finest--"
"Just do it." Dave dropped his usual playful attitude, and switched
to the one that had helped earn him a juvenile record back home.
The salesman gulped and opened the front door of the car, and fiddled
with a switch. "All righty," Dave mumbled, as he raised the
hood the rest of the way and began looking around. The salesman was
staring at him suspiciously, as though he might be working on
installing a car bomb. He rejected the car quickly... heaven help the
sucker dumb enough to buy this heap! "Hey," he called to the
saleman. "You got anything around here that ain't a piece
of crap?"
The salesman began to go into his "all of our cars are in the finest condition" spiel again, but Dave cut him off.
"Forget it, Mac. C'mon, Carol. I know a guy." She raised her eyebrows.
"I'll just bet you do," she told him sarcastically, and he gasped in indignation.
"'Scuse me? You sayin' that just because I talk this
way, my friends are all criminals?" Actually, he was pretty sure that
most of
the guys from the old neighborhood had, in fact, chosen
to pursue fairly disreputable careers, but that wasn't the point. "No, I
was
gonna suggest a buddy of mine who runs a used car lot."
"Better than these, I hope? And legal?"
"Couldn't be any worse," Dave pointed out. "And yeah, Phil's stuff is all legal." Carol sighed impatiently.
"Fine. Let's go." And they headed for the El stop.
* * *
Kerry was startled to see Mark coming in, accompanied by his
father... who wasn't looking very well. "Mark? I thought this
was your day off."
"It is. This is a 'busman's holiday'." He'd picked up the phrase
from Elizabeth, although she was becoming more and more
Americanized in her habits and speech every day. "My
dad's a little wheezy and feverish this morning," he told her quietly,
but David heard anyway.
"It's just a little cough!" he protested, and Mark turned to glare at him.
"Dad, I just want to get you checked out here. Conni, can you take
my dad to... uh..." he glanced at the board, to see what looked
good, "Curtain area three, and get him set up with an IV and a
pulse-ox? I'll be right in."
"Sure thing, Dr Greene," she told him gently. He hadn't made any
formal announcement of what was wrong with his father, but
Randi had heard in the cafeteria from the desk clerk in Pedes, who'd
heard it from the radiology tech who'd processed the
films, that Mark's father was extremely ill - the tech had said that it
looked like very advanced lung cancer.
Conni's uncle had died ten years ago, of lung cancer that had spread
to his mouth and throat, and she shuddered now at the
memory of seeing Uncle Arthur in that hospital bed at the end.
Chemotherapy and radiation treatments - ultimately unsuccessful -
had made him bald and nauseated, and the futile surgeries to remove the
tumors had left him with only part of a face and
breathing through a tracheostoma. She hadn't actually seen it, but her
mother had told her that Arthur kept right on smoking
to the last... holding that damn cigarette up to the trach ring to
inhale - Conni had quit smoking that day, and kept a trach ring
taped up inside her locker door as a reminder to stay
quit.
She didn't tell David Greene any of that, of course, just got him
settled and fixed up with an IV and a pulse-ox monitor on
his finger.
Meanwhile, Kerry smiled sadly at Mark. "It's not just a little cough, is it?"
"Uh, no."
"Cancer?" Mark nodded, quickly and awkwardly. "I'm so sorry. You're looking after him at home?"
"Yeah. Uh, I'm going to be needing to take more time off from work, I don't know how much--"
"Whatever you need, Mark. Just let me know when you
know what you need, okay?" She started to turn away, then stopped and
faced him again. "And... if you need any supplies for taking care of
your father at home..." she smiled again, "just don't let me
see it. There are some empty boxes in the lounge." She
crutched away from him this time, and Mark watched her go, a little
shocked.
It was, he thought, so rare to see her like this. He was used to the
Kerry who was a martinet, who enthusiastically enforced even
the most petty rules... the Kerry who backbit, and undercut colleagues.
Maybe Susan had been right, in one of the last letters he'd
received from her (she'd stopped writing nearly two years ago... but he
hadn't been very regular about keeping in touch, either).
He'd been complaining, once again, about the way that power seemed to
have gone to Kerry's head... and Susan had - in what
had seemed like an enigmatic non sequitur - commented that the woman
could be very surprising at times.
"She surprises everybody at times, Mark," she'd
written, underlining "everybody" three times. "Just when you think
you've
figured out what she's all about, and how she's going to react to
something, and you've assumed that she's the bad guy, suddenly
you turn around and find that she's been on your side all along, and
that she was never the villain of the piece. Just have
patience, Mark, okay?" They'd exchanged a few more letters after that,
with increasingly long intervals between letters on
both sides, and then nothing more.
* * *
"So what is your middle name?" They'd got off the
train about five minutes ago, and were now heading for the lot that Dave's
friend ran. Carol's question took Dave completely by surprise.
"Huh?" Oh, brilliant rejoinder, Malucci, he thought. Just a regular silver-tongued devil, aintcha? Carol laughed.
"Well, I'm pretty sure your mother didn't really give you the middle name 'Used Cars' or 'Automotive Repair'. What is it, really?"
"You're gonna laugh," he warned her.
"No, I won't. I swear." He mumbled something that she didn't catch.
"What?" He groaned, and covered his face with his hands -
the almost-childlike motion looked out of place on him, especially when
he walked over to a nearby streetlight pole and
thumped his head against the metal a few times, in frustration. That
earned them puzzled glances from several passersby,
and Carol made placating gestures in their direction. "It's okay! It's
okay, um, he's a... he's a street performer!" She figured
that probably sounded better than "He's a lunatic doctor who works at
the hospital with me!"
There was a small, empty cardboard box on its side, near her feet,
and she quickly righted it. Some of the passersby nodded in
comprehension, and drew closer, dropping coins in the box as Dave
rolled his eyes and tossed up his hands in frustration, then
kicked the pole, screaming, "Oh, fer cryin' out loud, Carol!"
"Isn't he great?" Carol prompted the small gathering they'd drawn.
Some of them dutifully applauded, and more coins found their
way into the impromptu collection box before the people gradually
drifted away again. Carol picked through the offerings, and
snarled "Very funny!" when she saw the cigarette butt that someone had
thrown in when she wasn't looking, but finally gave a
little victory cheer. "Dave... Dave! Lunch is on me. Or
at least, it's on me up to about five bucks worth." He kicked the pole
one more time for good measure, and turned back to her.
"What?"
"That little light-pole thing you just did - check it out." She
waved the box under his nose, and smiled at the gleam of interest
in his eyes, as he saw the money.
"Hey, cool. You think maybe if I did it again--"
"No, Dave. Let's not push our luck, okay? It's not exactly my
ambition to get arrested for panhandling - let's just go get
something to eat."
"Great, I'm starving."
"Yeah," she laughed, "it was probably all that exercise just now. Hey, there's a hot dog stand."
"Mmmm, slaughter room sweepings with all the trimmings... yum yum!
Bring it on!" Carol giggled as Dave rubbed his
middle in anticipation.
* * *
"Hey, Kerry?" She turned at the sound of Carter's voice.
"Yes, John?"
"I've got an old guy who collapsed while we were getting his wife settled in, and I wanna admit him."
"Mm-hm... who's his provider?"
"Blue Beacon."
"Okay... they contract with New Western. You'll need to transfer him."
"Well... that's the thing. I just admitted his wife to the ICU, and--"
"They're not going to allow it. Is he stable for transfer?"
"He's dehydrated." Oh, jeez... Kerry thought, I am really not in the mood for this with Carter!
"Rehydrate him."
"His potassium's a little low."
"Replenish it."
"And he's anemic."
"Is he bleeding?" Did he think this was some kind of fucking
negotiation game? It was obvious, from the very minor
conditions he was mentioning, that he did seem to think
that the matter was open to negotiation.
"Well, no--"
"It's chronic, then. Transfer him," she growled.
"But he'd rather stay with his wife." Kerry sighed.
"Okay. And would he rather pay $2000 a day, because his insurance won't cover his stay here? Ship him out, Carter."
"Well.... uh... I'm off pretty soon, and--" She snatched the chart
out of his hand, and issued the Stare Of Death. "Um, okay.
Uh, I'll just... uh... be over there...." She rolled her eyes and shook
her head. Could be worse, she supposed... she could be
Carol, and stuck with Dave for company.
* * *
"You're sure about this one, Dave? You're sure it's
okay?" Dave slammed the hood shut on the blue Volvo station wagon
with a soft grunt.
"It's not pretty, Carol, but this is a good machine."
"Aren't Volvos Swedish? Randi said something about how I shouldn't get a Swedish car."
"What's Betsy talkin' about now?" Carol had no idea
why he sometimes referred to Randi as "Betsy", but figured there were
probably just things about Malucci that she didn't want
to know.
"Uh... something about high suicide rates in Sweden, I don't know."
She shook her head - Randi was another person she didn't
understand, and wasn't sure she wanted to understand.
"Aaah, I wouldn't worry about it. Long as ya stay away from the
Ingmar Bergman films, ya should be okay. You seem like you
got it together pretty well - you're doin' pretty good, considering ya
got two kids."
"Thanks, Dave." She sounded surprised... partly because she was
surprised. She hadn't expected him to be such a help... and
kind of sweet - she was used to him being, well, a jerk.
She impulsively leaned over and kissed his cheek, and was promptly
horrified. "That never happened."
"No shit." Carol sniffed indignantly, and moved away from him...
she'd been trying to be nice to him, after all! "Oh, come
on, Carol. That's not what I meant." She folded her arms, and moved
another few steps away from him, then turned her
head to look at him.
"Well, you did help me pick out a good car. Unless, of course, you're getting a kickback from Phil. I know!" she said suddenly.
"Know what?"
"I bet your middle name is 'Sebastian'! Am I right? No? Um... how
about 'Maria'?" She'd encountered the occasional Hispanic
boy in the ER who had that unlikely name, but Dave shook his head
again, and shuddered slightly. "It's not 'Rumplestiltskin', is
it?" He rolled his eyes at that last try, and made a "duh" face at her.
"Ohhhhhh!" It's 'Auxentius', all right? You happy?"
Carol tried to hold back the snort of laughter, but
failed miserably, especially
when she saw the abject misery on Dave's face. That just set her off,
and she started roaring with laughter, leaning against the
side of the car for support.
"How 'bout you, Carol?" Her laughter skidded to a halt and piled up in a nasty collision, with multiple casualties.
"Whuh... what about me?"
"Your name. Didn't I hear you say once that you're Orthodox?" Carol glared at him.
"Yeah, but..." Dave chuckled.
"Yeah but, Carol. C'mon, what is it? Something bad? It's something really bad, I bet!"
"Okay... but if you tell anybody, I am going to...
to..." She thought for a moment. "You are going to do every
one of your
patients' NG tubes," she began ticking off on her fingers. "You will
start every IV, you will do every single one of the jobs
that you normally hand off to the nurses, because if you
tell another living soul, I will tell all the nurses that
they are to give
those jobs right back to you!" She paused a moment, to
let that one sink in, and then delivered the coup de grace:"And
I
will tell everybody at County that you are David Auxentius Malucci!"
Dave gulped, but nodded.
"Not a word to anyone. I swear. Scout's honor." Carol glared at him,
trying to stay mad, but Dave was like foot fungus: he
grew on a person. Not that she wasn't wishing for a large can of
Tinactin about now, but it was hard not to be caught up in
his eager-puppy enthusiasm sometimes.
"You were never a Boy Scout. That's the lousiest salute I've ever seen."
"Yeah I was. My mom made us go."
"Ha! I bet you went off with your buddies, and played poker with your dues."
"Hmmph! Shows what you know, Carol." She grinned at him, and lifted
an eyebrow. "It was pool," he admitted sheepishly.
"And how do you know so much about Boy Scout salutes,
anyway?" She cleared her throat, and suddenly found her own
fingernails supremely interesting.
"Uh...."
Dave snickered, and opened the passenger door. "Let's go, Carol."
* * *
Kerry felt a prickling at the back of her neck as she examined some
x-rays - somehow she suspected that a fractured
wrist was not going to be enough to convince Mr
Niedermeyer to give up skateboarding... at least he wore some
safety
gear! - and turned just in time to see Edgar duck back behind a rack of
supplies. He wasn't as quick as before, not with
an IV stand slowing him down, but he still got back under cover fairly
quickly. She smiled, and made a few notes on
Greg Niedermeyer's chart, then tucked the x-rays back into the envelope
and carried them in the general direction of the
front desk. But first....
She caught up with Luka in the lounge, just as he was about to head home; he was munching on a doughnut. "How's Edgar doing?"
"Ah, he's doing well. His mother's on her way down, and she'll keep
an eye on him for a little bit and then either take
him home or have us admit him. Depends on how his second round of labs
turn out."
"I see. Um, you have a little powdered sugar on your lip... let me
get that." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, quickly licking
at the lip in question; he sighed happily and wrapped his arms around
her waist, then deepened the kiss. When it ended, he
smiled a little unsteadily.
"I will never think of powdered sugar the same way again."
"Good. Hey... you said there was still some chocolate left from last week?"
"Uh... yeah." She simply smiled and winked at him, and left the
lounge; he watched her go, and sighed - it was going to be a
long wait until the end of her shift! He shook his head and opened his
locker to get his coat.
* * *
She dropped off the x-rays and headed in the direction of Curtain
Area Two, to check on a young asthma patient... maybe this
one wouldn't be so freaked out by her crutch (at the very least, she
thought, the child wouldn't be able to make a very speedy
getaway). On her way there, she passed Exam 2 - the door had been
propped open, and she could see Leah Braley moving
around in there, tending to Edgar. He looked up and spotted her, and
grinned; she waggled her fingers in a friendly greeting,
and he returned the wave. Aw... suddenly she felt a little better about
the idea of having a child who took after his - or her -
father.
* * *
"Afternoon, ma'am, we're here to pick up a patient for transfer...
uh... Frank Pooler." Kerry looked up at the transport techs who
wore the uniform of the ambulance company, and one of them handed her
some paperwork. Ah... paperwork... the juju of
Western bureaucracy! She traded him a copy of Mr Pooler's chart for it
- the mystical bargain had been sealed, and now
Frank Pooler would be whisked away to a different hospital from where
his wife was staying. American insurance could
be a real bitch sometimes.
"Oh... yes. Right this way." The man had been brought downstairs, to
wait for transport, and she followed them. Mr Pooler
looked up as the three of them entered the room; Kerry had expected him
to be upset, but he seemed to be more... philosophical
about it.
"I know how hard Dr Carter tried to keep me here, and I really appreciate it."
"Well, it's sometimes difficult with the HMOs...." Her voice trailed
off, she knew how fundamentally ridiculous that "explanation"
was - once again, she was separating a family... the very same thing
Luka had railed at her about just a few months ago - but Mr
Pooler didn't seem to hold it against her.
"Could you just get a message to my wife? Her name's Irene Pooler,
she's in the ICU, tell her I'll call her when I get settled over
there."
"Well, there aren't phones in the rooms, you can't call her directly, but if you call the desk you can ask them how she's doing."
"Okay! And thank you again for everything you've done
for us - we appreciate it!" He called out the last as the techs bundled
him
into the back of the ambulance and shut the doors, and she watched as
it pulled away. No sarcasm... he'd been honestly grateful for
the care he and his wife had received today.
* * *
"I couldn't do a thing about it, Luka." She took another bite of her
fettucini Alfredo, and looked up at him as he studied his
spaghetti carbonara before digging in. "I... I had to split up that
couple, and the only other choice was to stick him with an
enormous hospital bill that he'd never be able to pay."
"I know."
"Do you? You didn't seem to, back in January." He put down his fork
and just looked at her for a while. At the last minute, she'd
put on the same purple scarf she'd worn last Sunday... he'd teased her
gently and offered to make the scarf necessary, and they
nearly hadn't made it back out of the house for dinner.
"Do you want me to be angry at you now?" He wasn't threatening, just
curious - she seemed to be looking for someone to
punish her for something... for what, he wasn't sure,
but it was almost as if she was frustrated that nobody had pushed her
into any serious battles today. Sure, there'd been that minor argument
with Carter that she'd told him about, but apparently he
had given in to her fairly easily.
"No! I- I don't want you to be angry at me."
"I'm not going anywhere, Kerry. I won't abandon you. Even when we argue, I'll always come home to you."
"You promise?"
"I swear. Now... jedi."
"Yes, dear."
"I love you, you know that."
"Yes." She let him wait a few seconds before she continued, "And I love you."
"Good."
POST-OPERATIVE NOTES: