Homeless Once More, Part Twelve
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com
When John opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that the room was dark. A glance at the clock told him that he had been sleeping for five hours. It was quiet. Too quiet. Please don't let me be alone, he thought. As he sat up the door opened and Kerry entered the room, a basket of folded clothes propped against her hip. She smiled when she saw that he was awake and a feeling of relief washed over him when he saw he was not alone.
"I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to sleep in your bed tonight."
"I'm sorry about that. I had no right to fall asleep in here."
"Don't worry about it. You obviously needed the rest. Your father called while you were asleep. He asked that you call him once you're awake."
"Did he sound angry?"
Kerry put her basket down and began to put the clothing away. "No. He sounded hurt."
"I tried to call him, Kerry. I honestly did, but their line was busy."
"I know. He told me that he had been calling the hospital. Give him a call now."
"I will."
"Are you hungry? If so, then I'll go and start supper now."
"That would be fine. I guess I missed lunch, huh?"
"Yeah, but Adam ate your share. By the way, it's just the two of us for the evening. Adam is taking Randi out to dinner and a movie."
"Our Randi?"
"It took me by surprise, too."
"I'm surprised that she doesn't have a boyfriend."
"I didn't think about that." Kerry closed the last drawer, then headed out of the room, leaving John alone once more.
He dialed his parent's number, halfway hoping that he would get a busy signal once again or that they were gone. Someone answered on the third ring.
"Carter residence, Hargreaves speaking."
"Hargreaves, this is John. Are my parents home?"
"It's good to hear your voice, Mr. Carter. One moment please."
John listened as the phone was set down on the table. The butler's footsteps on the marble floor were loud enough for him to hear them through the phone.
"Johnny? How are you, son?"
"I'm fine. I just woke up and got the message you had called. I did try to call you earlier, but your line was busy each time I called."
"I was trying to call the hospital to talk to you. You could have told us that you were being discharged this morning."
"It happened pretty quickly. Luckily, Kerry was getting off work at noon anyway, so things worked out fine."
"Good. Although we would have been more than willing to drive you wherever you wanted to go, John."
"I think that supper's ready, so I better go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Sure. We'll be here, son."
"Tell Mom that I said 'Hi', okay?"
"I will. Take care, Johnny."
"Bye, Dad."
"Bye."
John hung up, sighing. He had been afraid that his father would ask if they could come over to Kerry's to visit him, or ask him to come to the house tomorrow. He stood and headed for the door when it occurred to him that having supper meant eating in the kitchen. His stomach did a flip at that idea. Could he convince Kerry that he wasn't hungry at all? Would she let him get away with not eating? He jumped as the door suddenly swung open toward him.
"Sorry. I didn't realize you were standing that close to the door. Did you reach your father?"
John nodded, "Yeah. I spoke to him."
"I was thinking that you might want to go out to eat tonight. What about it? Do you feel up to going out? I promise that we won't stay out long."
John nodded again, "I think that would be all right."
"Good. What are you in the mood for; Italian, Chinese?"
"Not Chinese," he forcibly said, shaking his head. "I don't like Chinese."
"Really? I thought you did."
"Well, I don't." At least not anymore, he thought. When Adam had left him there alone it had been because he went out to get Chinese food. John never wanted to have Chinese food again.
"Italian then?" Kerry asked.
"That's fine."
"There's a great little place about five minutes from here. They have the best manicotti I've ever had."
"Sounds good. Give me a few minutes to freshen up and I'll be ready to go."
Kerry nodded, "I need to freshen up as well. It's a bit far to walk in the cold, so I'll drive, okay?"
He nodded and walked to his room. After closing his door, he sat down the bed, wondering if he was really ready to go out in public. His face was still bruised and he knew he didn't look his best. Still, the alternative was to eat in the kitchen and he knew he wasn't ready for that. With a sigh he got up and opened his suitcase, looking for his toothbrush. He figured the least he could do would be to brush his teeth before going out anywhere. Maybe even comb his hair and wash his face. He owed Kerry that much.
Much to John's surprise, dinner had been very pleasant. Despite being a Friday night, it wasn't crowded and that he was grateful for that. The two of them took their time eating, lingering over desert and coffee. Kerry noticed that John ate a little bit of everything, but he still didn't eat all that was served to him. She knew that his appetite was heartier than that and she was worried that if he kept this up that he would wither away to nothing. They were both silent on the drive back to the apartment and Kerry took advantage of the quiet to think about how to talk to John about her own rape.
Once inside the apartment, Kerry hung up their coats, then offered to make him some cocoa.
"I think I'll pass on that, Kerry. Thanks for the offer though. I think I'll just go to bed early."
"Are you really tired? Because, if you aren't, then I'd like to talk to you about something that's been on my mind lately."
John could tell that she was nervous and he immediately worried about what she would want to talk to him about that would worry her that much. She didn't want him to move out, so that couldn't be it. There was only way to find out and that was to listen to what she had to say. "No. I'm not that tired. I was probably just going to read for a while."
"Have a seat." Kerry sat on the end of the couch opposite from the kitchen so that John would have to sit on the other end where he wouldn't have to face the kitchen area. Kerry knew that just being close to the kitchen would be difficult for him and she wanted to make him as comfortable as possible.
John sat down with his back to the kitchen, his unease very apparent. "What's on your mind, Kerry?"
"John, there's no easy way for me to say this. First of all, what I have to tell you is private and I would appreciate it if it doesn't go any further."
"Of course."
"I can't tell you that I know what you're going through right now, but I can tell you that I know a little bit about how you feel. When I was sixteen, I was raped. I was walking home. It wasn't quite dark outside and even though my parents had always warned me about the dangers of walking alone at night, I thought that I would be all right. Of course, their main worry was the possibility of me being hit by a car. Being hit might have been a little easier on me. The man who raped me was also out on foot, walking on the other side of the road. I really didn't pay much attention to him so I never noticed when he crossed the road and came up behind me. He dragged me off the road and into an empty lot, where he raped me. I kept begging for him to let me go, even while he was actually raping me, but he just kept laughing at me and telling me that I should just relax and enjoy the ride. He told me that he wouldn't hurt me if I just let him do what he wanted. I kept fighting him though, but he was a big man. I think he must have been some kind of a drifter because he was dirty and unshaven. His clothing was torn in places and clumsily repaired in others. It's funny how I can still remember how the stitching of his shirt looked." She shook her head. "And how he smelled. God, he smelled so bad. His breath smelled as if he had just eaten something rotten. Whenever I get a whiff of food gone bad, I immediately remember the way his breath smelled. When he was done with me, he became afraid. He grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet, then he heaved me up over his shoulder and went back to the road. There was a steep embankment on the other side. I can still remember the horror as I felt my body fly through the air and realized that he had thrown me over the side. Mercifully, I was knocked unconscious as soon as I hit the ground, so I missed the pain of the rocks digging into my skin and breaking the bones of my leg. There was a lot of damage to my hip and leg and that's why I have to use the crutch. I used to be a dancer, John. I had dreams of doing that for a living, although how you can call it a living when you're doing something you truly love is beyond me. That bastard took that dream away from me and I'll never forgive him for that. I can forgive him for raping me, therapy helped with that. But, I will never forgive him for destroying my dream."
John could tell from the look in her eyes that she had lost something very precious to her. He felt so guilty then. "I'm sorry, Kerry. I really am sorry. I get your point."
"You do?" Even though McIntyre had been hopeful that John would open up to her once he heard her story, Kerry had her doubts that it would make a difference.
"Yeah. I have no right to be acting like this."
"What?" Kerry wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.
John nodded, "You're right, Kerry. What you went through was horrible. Being raped and injured. Physically harmed for the rest of your life. Well, what happened to me wasn't anywhere near as bad and I have no right to act as if my life is bad. Litvak did not actually assault me, even though he tried. My injuries will heal. I can't sit around feeling sorry for myself, not when other people have been hurt worse."
"John, that's not why I was telling you that story."
He looked puzzled, "It wasn't?"
"No. John, even though you weren't actually assaulted, the trauma of it is still very real to you. Dan Litvak tried his best to assault you, but Adam and your father prevented it. Don't ever feel as if you are in the wrong because you feel upset or bad over what happened to you. You can't go around comparing your attack to the attacks that have happened to others, at least not in the sense that you have no right to be upset or depressed because yours wasn't as bad."
"Then why did you tell me?"
"For a long time after my rape, I kept it all bottled up inside of me. I told the police the details, but they weren't able to make an arrest. By the time I was found, the bastard was long gone. The police were the only ones I told my story to. I wouldn't talk to my mother or father. I wouldn't talk to the therapist they made me go to see. It was eating me up inside, John. Finally, a day came when I just fell apart. I was still in the hospital, having yet another surgery on my leg, when I started crying and just couldn't stop. I think I threw everything I could get my hands on and I remember being so frustrated that I couldn't get out of bed and break even more things. I think I could have raged on for hours, but I was sedated before I could do any further harm. After that, my mother kept at me about talking to my therapist and I finally did. Once I began to talk about the rape, I found myself telling her how devastated I felt that my dream of being a dance was over. It was as if a door had opened for me, John. I talked and talked and my therapist just sat there and listened. She didn't try to tell me how to feel or ask me any questions, she just listened. You can't hold it all inside of you, John. It will tear you apart."
"I talk with Dr. McIntyre, Kerry."
"Do you? Have you told him about the assault?"
"If you're asking if I've given him the full details about that night, the answer is no, I haven't. I don't want to talk about that night. Jesus, it's bad enough that I'm constantly thinking about it, why would I want to talk about it?"
"Because of the fact that you're constantly thinking about it. John, it isn't healthy for you to be thinking about it all the time. You need to talk to someone about it. It doesn't have to be Dr. McIntyre. It can be anyone that you feel comfortable with."
John shook his head and laughed, "Yeah, right. Like I'm going to feel comfortable talking to someone about that. Oh, wait. I get it now. You told me about your rape because you wanted me to talk to you about that night, right?"
"We were hoping that you would talk to me."
"We? Who else is involved with this idea?"
"I spoke with Dr. McIntyre about it and he seemed to feel that you might find it easier to talk to me."
"So you chose tonight, a night when Adam is conveniently out on a date. I bet he's in on this too, isn't he?"
"No. But, he did tell me that he thought I should tell you about my rape. Not because he thought you would talk to me about your attack, but because he thought you might gain some comfort from the knowledge that you aren't the only one who has gone through this kind of thing. That you wouldn't feel so alone."
"I guess he missed his calling, huh? Instead of being a flight attendant, he should have taken up psychiatry. Well, I don't need your pity or his. I know that I'm not alone. I know that I'm not the only person who has ever been assaulted. But, this is my pain and it's up to me to deal with it, not you. Not Hugh McIntyre and certainly not your brother." John's tone of voice then softened, "I am truly sorry that you had to go through the Hell of being raped and injured and that you lost your dream of being a dancer. You're one of the best doctor's I've ever known, and while that may not be an even trade, it is a good thing for all the patients you've helped over the years." He paused and briefly closed his eyes, then said, "If you'll excuse me, I have a headache and I'm tired. I'm going to bed now."
Without waiting for an answer, he got up and went to his room. As she listened to him moving from his room to the bathroom and then back again, Kerry replayed the conversation in her mind, wondering just what she could have said differently. This was not the result she had been hoping for and she didn't know if it was because she screwed it up or because John was just so damn stubborn. Maybe it was a little of both. She turned on the television, looking for something simple to watch while she waited for Adam to return home from his date.
In the darkness of his room, John curled up on top of his bed, not bothering to change for bed or to slip under the covers. His mind was full of disconnected thoughts; why had God allowed something so bad to happen to Kerry Weaver? She wasn't a bad person and he sincerely doubted that she could have been deserving of such a punishment when she was only sixteen. Why were so many people badgering him to talk about the assault? In the end, nothing actually happened, so why did they want him to drag the details out into the open? Why couldn't they understand that he wanted to put it behind him and just get on with his miserable life? His psychiatrist wanted him to talk about it, his parents wanted him to talk about it, Mark wanted him to talk about it, and now Kerry wanted him to talk about it. It had reached the point where he wouldn't be at surprised to return to work on Monday and have Jerry tell him that he'd be willing to listen if he needed to talk about it. He knew they all meant well, but he wished they would just leave him alone.
John then wondered if he could really put this all behind him. He had watched Kerry closely while she told him her story and he had seen the pain and sadness in her eyes. He had also seen a little fear. The same fear had been in Mark's eyes after he had been beaten. The same fear was in his own eyes whenever he looked into a mirror. Well, he had found a way to solve that particular problem. He simply stopped looking in mirrors.
If Kerry Weaver, who was one of the strongest people he knew, couldn't get fully past her own attack after twenty some years, then how did he think he would ever get past his own attempted assault? That thought made him feel guilty over worrying about it at all. It was just an "attempt" and except for the beating, he wasn't harmed in any other way. How could he compare himself to Kerry or anyone else? The person who had attacked him was dead, so he didn't have the fear that Litvak would return to attack him again. Neither Kerry's nor Mark's attackers were ever caught. They were still out there somewhere and there was a possibility of them returning to attack once more. How could they live with that knowledge? He knew he would not have been able to handle having to live that way, never knowing if the man you just passed on the street was the man who beat you or raped you. He was having a hard enough time getting through each day hoping that no one could look at him and see that he had attracted another man. John was so afraid that whatever it was he had done to make Litvak think he was interested was something he was still doing and that some other man would get the same idea. "But, I wasn't interested in him, was I?" he asked himself. He no longer felt confident enough of his own sexuality or sexual orientation to state "I only want women. I'm not gay or bisexual." No, now he doubted all of that and it scared him. If some man smiled at him, John didn't know if it meant the man was being friendly or if he wanted him. The waitress tonight had seen through his confusion and had felt sorry for him. The pity in her eyes had been very plain. He knew that no decent woman would ever want him. A decent woman would always know that he had allowed another man to touch him. No decent woman deserved to be dirtied by him.
John lay awake far into the night, long past the time when Adam returned from his date and Kerry finally went to bed. Sleep was a very elusive thing for him now. If he wasn't constantly thinking, then his sleep was interrupted by nightmares, some of which he couldn't remember. As a doctor, he knew that he needed to get sleep and that his naps were not going to make up for what he was missing. He knew that Dr. McIntyre or Mark would be willing to prescribe sleeping pills; for that matter, the pills that Dr. McIntyre had prescribed for him before were still in the bathroom. He was just too scared to take anything. The one conclusion he had reached regarding the attack was that he had still been groggy from the morphine when he opened the door. If not for that, then none of it would have happened. The morphine had made him vulnerable and he was determined not to allow that to happen again. So, no matter how much he hurt, there would be no pain medication. No matter how tired he was, there would be no sleeping pills. He was determined to stand by that decision regardless of the consequences.
Mark had gone to Doc Magoos for dinner and was quietly enjoying it in the privacy of his own booth. He was glad to be away from the chaos of the Emergency Room and be able to spend time in a place where he could think without interruptions. He had a lot to think about. He felt honored that Carter had chosen him to be his doctor, but there were times when he wished that Carter had chosen Peter instead, or even Kerry. Anyone but him. Just looking at Carter 's bruises and injuries brought back memories of his own beating. Memories he thought he had long since put to rest. Looking back, he wondered why his friends and colleagues had put up with his erratic and often horrible behavior. He had treated everyone badly; yelling at patients, snapping at Doug, ignoring his duties. Morale in the ER had fallen considerably by the time he had finally got his act together. He felt slightly guilty over the fact that he had used Cynthia Hooper. It had been obvious to everyone but him that she was not his type. All he saw was someone who needed him and at that time in his life he so desperately needed to be needed. At least he had come to his senses before he ended up married to Cynthia. Although it was ironic that she had been the one to break things off with him. He probably would have continued to have a sexual relationship with her if she hadn't walked out of his life first.
Mark was glad that Carter was in therapy. Doug had kept telling him over and over again that he should see someone, but his pride just wouldn't allow that. Maybe if he gone to a therapist, things would have been so much easier for him to handle. Well, what was done was done and he couldn't go back and change what had happened. He smiled as he thought of how better his life was now. Except for the fact that Rachel was now living in St. Louis, things were pretty good. Dr. Amanda Lee had taken firm control of things as soon as she was officially announced as the new Chief of Emergency Services. They had been out to dinner a time or two and Mark found her to be wonderful company. She was intelligent and her sense of humor matched his own perfectly. He wanted things to progress beyond dinners with her, but this time he wanted to take things slowly. He and Jennifer had rushed into their relationship and that had ended rather badly. He and Cynthia had rushed directly into bed and that relationship had gone nowhere. He wanted things to go differently with Amanda.
"Hi, Mark."
He looked and smiled as he faced the woman who was so much in his thoughts lately. "Amanda, what brings you out of the hospital?"
"I was headed home and decided on the spur of the moment to drop in here for something to take home for dinner."
"Well, if you aren't in a hurry, I would love to have you join me."
She smiled and slid onto the bench across from him. "Thanks. Your dinner smells good, what are you having?"
"It's the meatloaf special and it's not bad. A lot better than the meatloaf they serve in the cafeteria."
A waitress approached them and Amanda shook her head as the woman offered her a menu. "I'll just have the meatloaf special and a cup of decaf."
Amanda turned her attention back to Mark. "When you agreed to discharge Dr. Carter today, were you aware that he was going home with Kerry?"
Mark nodded, "I knew it. I didn't necessarily agree with his decision, but Dr. McIntyre felt that Carter needed to at least make the attempt to return to the apartment."
"It probably was important to Dr. Carter to be able to do that. Mark, when he returns to work on Monday, it's going to be vital that no one hover around him. It's going be difficult enough for him to return to the ER without feeling as if he's being constantly watched."
"I'm well aware of that. He won't be left alone much because he'll need Lucy Knight to help him out with patients. I think we can trust Ms. Knight to keep an eye on him."
"I've noticed that she gets this sparkle in her eyes whenever she talks about him. I'm looking forward to working with Dr. Carter. You and Kerry sing his praises so often that I'm beginning to wonder if he's for real."
"He's an excellent doctor, Amanda. I don't think you'll be disappointed by his performance. Of course, you won't be getting an accurate picture of his abilities until that sling comes off."
Amanda smiled slowly, "Of course. I didn't think otherwise. Mark, you know that I haven't been disappointed by your performance at all. You've been everything that Donald led me to believe."
Mark's brown wrinkled as he attempted to figure out that loaded remark. "Just what did Donald have to say about me?"
"Just that he valued your opinion very highly and that you were an excellent trauma physician. He said that he just couldn't picture the emergency room running as efficiently without you. Of course, he had good things to say about Kerry as well. Donald feels very lucky to have the two of you as attendings. He also feels that he made a good choice in going with the decision to have a pedes attending, although to be honest, he isn't always so sure that Doug Ross is the right man for the job. However, since he was the only one available at the time, it was more or less inevitable that he get the position."
"Doug cares about kids. He always has. Unfortunately, sometimes his commitment to the children gets in the way of the rules. Doug would much rather plow over any obstacles, or else ignore the rules entirely rather than find a way around them."
"Every hospital has at least one doctor like that. Back in Atlanta, it was Robert Rawlings. That man would do anything for a patient, the administration be damned. He's an excellent physician though."
"So is Doug. I consider him to be one of the best."
The waitress returned with Amanda's meal and she began
to eat.
Mark watched her for a few moments, then decided to see if Amanda would be willing to share more than a dinner with him.
"I'm off tomorrow and I was wondering if you would like to have the nickel tour of Chicago?"
Amanda grinned, "That would be nice. I really haven't had much of a chance to see the city. Just the parts of it that I pass on my way to and from work. Just what is included on the nickel tour?"
"Whatever you want. We can do sightseeing, or I could show you where all the major shopping malls and stores are located. Your choice."
"Can I let you know tomorrow?"
"Sure. I think I know enough about Chicago to be able to get you anywhere you would like to go on short notice."
"So, you aren't a native then?"
"Nope. I'm a Navy brat. The last place I lived before I took off for college was San Diego. My folks still live there. What about you? Where do you call home?"
"Home is wherever I happen to be. I was an Air Force brat, so while I might not have been moved around as much as you, I got my fair share of upheaval. I decided a long time ago that I would make any place I stayed into home. It made moving a lot easier."
"Maybe I should have thought of that."
"So, how did you end up in Chicago?"
"After I graduated from college, I was accepted to medical school here. It seemed like a good choice at the time and I've never regretted it. Jennifer, my wife at the time, has family not that far away, so it was almost like coming home for her."
"I take it then that you're divorced?"
"Yes. I guess we just grew apart. Jennifer put off law school while I got through medical school, then she continued her education. She ended up clerking with a Federal judge in Milwaukee. I had been offered the position of Chief Resident and I wasn't too thrilled with the idea of leaving here and starting all over again in another hospital. She wasn't too thrilled with the idea of commuting from here to Milwaukee. In the end, she moved to Milwaukee with our daughter and I ended up doing the long commuting whenever possible. It wasn't enough though. Jen found someone else and after we divorced, she married him. They just recently moved to St. Louis because she was offered a junior partnership in a law firm down there."
"I'm sorry, Mark. I know you must miss your daughter a lot."
"I do. You want to know what's really ironic? Not that long after Jen married Craig, they ended up moving back here. That hurt a lot, but I am glad that I got to spend more time with Rachel. So, what about you? Any lost loves in your past?"
She shook her head, "Not really. Maybe I've been lucky that way. I knew when I decided to throw myself into my career that there would be lonely times. It's hard enough to be in a relationship without asking the person you love to put up with insanely long hours. Not to mention all the paperwork that gets dragged home. My life would not be fair to dump on someone who doesn't understand it." Amanda glanced out the window. "I did have a fiance once, but he died in an accident."
"I'm sorry."
Amanda smiled sadly, "Thank you. It was a long time ago, but I still miss him. So, what does Jen's husband do?
"Craig is also a lawyer. I guess that made it easier for Jen to fall for him. They both knew the job and what it entailed."
"Maybe they should make a law that says people can only marry within their own professions," she laughed.
"Maybe that would work." Then he thought about all the troubles that Doug and Carol had endured in their relationship. Being in the medical field had not made the road to romance easier for them. "Then again, maybe it really wouldn't make that much of a difference."
"We can always be optimistic and hope that it would."
"I suppose so. So, have you heard any more about the proposed pain study we're going to run?"
Over at the counter, Peter Benton smiled slightly as he watched Mark and Amanda Lee.
"A penny for your thoughts," Elizabeth said.
"I was just thinking that it's been a long time since I've seen Mark look that happy."
Elizabeth turned in her seat and saw who Mark was eating dinner with and she also smiled. She turned back to Peter, "I think they make a cute couple."
"Really?"
"From what I've seen, Amanda Lee is great administrator. I imagine it must rankle Kerry's feathers though."
"Kerry Weaver has wanted to be the Chief of Emergency Services ever since she was brought in as Chief Resident. She's always made that perfectly clear."
"I think she would make a good administrator, don't you?"
"I've never really thought about it. Kerry Weaver isn't a surgeon, so it wouldn't effect me one way or the other."
"I suppose that's true enough. So, would you care to tell me what's been on your mind so heavily all afternoon?"
Peter stared down at his half-eaten pie. He knew he had been moody for most of the day, but he couldn't help it. He did not agree with either one of Carter 's doctors that Carter should be discharged today and he told Elizabeth what he thought.
"Peter, if Dr. McIntyre didn't feel he was ready to be discharged, then he wouldn't have agreed to it. As for Mark, there certainly doesn't seem to be any physical reason why John shouldn't have gone home."
"That's just it, Elizabeth, Carter didn't go home. He went back to Kerry Weaver's apartment."
"I was under the impression that he had been living there, so why shouldn't he go back?"
"I wouldn't want to go back there, not after what happened."
"Then I suppose that he shouldn't return to work in the ER because he was brought there afterward?"
"It's not the same thing, Elizabeth."
"Isn't it? Carter was not unconscious when he was brought in. I'm sure he remembers the examination and knows exactly who was in the trauma room with him."
"Well, he hasn't had any trouble dealing with Mark, has he? He didn't hesitate to choose for Mark to be his doctor while he was in the hospital, so it must not have bothered him too much that Mark examined him in the trauma room."
"The fact that Carter chose Mark bothers you, doesn't it?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Elizabeth. Why on earth would it bother me?"
"Because you think that Carter should have chosen you instead."
"I was his second choice."
"Peter, you are a surgeon. While you do have the same basic training as Mark, you are not exactly the best choice for a personal physician. Carter made a logical decision when he chose Mark."
"I doubt that logic had anything to do with it."
"Well, I can't do anything to keep you from being jealous over Mark, but I can think of a few things I can do to make you feel a little better." Elizabeth smiled seductively as she slipped the last piece of her pie into her mouth and slowly pulled the fork out, licking the filling from between the tines.
"I wish I could go over to your place tonight, but I promised Carla that I would watch Reese. Someone has reserved the restaurant for a party and she'll be working until late."
"Maybe tomorrow then?"
"Maybe."
She reached into her purse and got out some money, "This should cover my share."
"Elizabeth, I asked you to eat with me. You don't need to pay."
"I insist, Peter. I'll see you tomorrow." She put on her coat and left.
Peter stared back down at his plate, wondering just why it mattered so much to him that Carter had chosen Mark to be his doctor. Mark was an excellent doctor, but for some reason, Peter did feel jealous. It didn't make any sense to him. Hadn't he stayed with Carter in Litvak's office? Didn't he stay in Carter 's room as he had promised? He had proved to Carter that he wanted to be his friend, so why didn't that mean anything? The only thing he could reason out was that Carter had chosen Mark because Mark was not his friend, but was his supervisor. Maybe John didn't want to deal that closely with a friend. Who knew? Peter certainly wasn't going to ask him. Chances were that Carter didn't know himself why he had chosen Mark over him. In Peter's mind, the fact that Carter didn't know why he was thinking or doing certain things right now were very good indicators that John was not ready to be released. The John Carter he had known for the past five years always knew why he did things. Peter wanted that John Carter back and he was worried that he would never see that man again.