Homeless Once More, Part Three
By Cathy Roberts
glroberts@bigfoot.com
When Carter awoke he noticed two things. The first was that he had somehow managed to sleep all night without a single interruption. The second was that his pillow smelled fresh and clean. He took in a deep breath as he snuggled deeper into the sheets. He had almost forgotten what fresh and clean smelled like. He frowned as he suddenly remembered why he was sleeping on clean sheets once more. He was in the spare bedroom of Kerry Weaver's apartment. The previous day was a blur to him now and he hoped it would stay that way. Right now, all he wanted was to sleep some more. A soft tapping at the door told him that wasn't going to be happening.
"I'm awake."
The door opened and Kerry came in, a cheerful smile totally transforming her face. "I hope you slept well."
He sat up in the bed and nodded, "I slept great. Dr. Weaver, thank you for letting me stay here last night."
"It was no problem, Carter. You're welcome to stay here until you're able to get your own place again."
"I can't impose on you like that," he shook his head.
"It wouldn't be an imposition. It would be a help. You could help me out with the rent or something and still be able to save money for your own place."
"I'll think about it."
"You do that, but I don't see where there's anything to think about, Carter. You don't have a place to live and I have an empty room. I can use the financial help. It's almost eleven, and I thought you should have something to eat before your appointment at one. Would you care for breakfast or lunch?"
He had forgotten that he was supposed to talk to one of the hospital psychiatrists today. In the light of a new day, he really didn't see where he needed to talk to anyone. All he had needed was a good night's sleep. Still, with Dr. Weaver watching him, there was no way he could get out of going.
"Well, what will it be?" she prodded.
"What will what be?" he asked.
Kerry sighed. She had hoped that a decent night's sleep would do him a world of good. While he looked rested, his mind still wasn't back to par.
"Do you want to eat breakfast or lunch?"
"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
"I ate when I got up this morning."
"Lunch would be fine then. Is it okay if I take a shower before I eat?"
"That would be fine, Carter. As a matter of fact, I've already put clean towels and a washcloth in the bathroom for you. There's also a razor and some shaving cream. Your bags are over there in the corner. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."
Carter waited until Kerry had shut the door before he got out of bed. He was gratified to see that he had remembered to change into his sweat pants and a T-shirt before he fell asleep. He must not have been that far gone last night. He had been keeping his clean clothes and dirty clothes in separate suitcases and it was obvious that he would need to do laundry soon. He found some clean pants that weren't too wrinkled, and some clean socks and underwear. His last clean button-up shirt was way too wrinkled to wear. He could ask Dr. Weaver if she had an iron, but he didn't want to impose any further on her generosity. He pulled out a sweater that would match the pants. After finding his toothbrush, tooth-paste and shampoo, he took his stuff down the hallway to the bathroom. It was tastefully decorated in tones of rose and hunter green. This was definitely a woman's apartment, he thought as he pushed aside the flowered shower curtain and stepped into the tub.
Kerry could clearly hear the shower from her kitchen so she was able to time the lunch preparation so it would be ready at about the same time Carter was finished in the bathroom. She hoped she hadn't prepared too much. He definitely looked as if he could use a good meal and she had tried to provide him with one. She smiled as she wondered what her work colleagues would say if they knew she was a whiz in the kitchen. As a child she had been unable to play outside with her brothers and sisters. A kid could only read so much during the day and when she was bored with books, she would find stimulation in her mother's bright kitchen. Her mother would always let her help, no matter how fancy or simple the dish. As a result, Kerry could make something edible out of just about any food there was. It had been a talent which had come in handy when she had been working in Africa. She ladled her home-made tomato soup into bowls and set them on the table. A salad, fresh bread and milk would round out the meal. Carter smiled as he entered the kitchen.
"Something smells good."
"Thank you. I hope you like tomato soup."
"I love it." He stood by his chair and Kerry finally realized that he was waiting for her to sit down first.
"It's still hot, so be careful not to burn yourself," she warned.
He gently blew on his first spoonful, then took a taste. "This is really good. It did not come from a can."
Kerry grinned, "You're right. I made it from scratch."
"I didn't know you could cook like this."
"Well, it's not a topic that would come up during a normal day at work."
"Definitely not. Is this home-made bread, too?"
"Well, I do cheat a little with that. I own a bread machine. I just don't have the time to do the old-fashioned way."
They ate in silence for a little while and Kerry was glad to see that he was managing to eat most of what she had prepared for him.
"Carter, I was curious about something."
"What's that?"
"When was the last time you ate a meal?"
He had to stop to think about that one. He never did stay long enough to have dinner with his parents on Halloween, but he really couldn't remember if he had eaten lunch that day or not.
"To tell you the truth, Dr. Weaver, I don't know. I can tell you that I haven't eaten this much in a long time. I just haven't had much of an appetite."
"Well, hopefully, that will change. Feel free to eat all you want. There's more soup on the stove."
"Thanks, but I'm feeling kinda full right now."
"I'll get this cleaned up and then we can leave for the hospital."
"I'll help. I can do the dishes or something," he said as he carried his bowl to the sink.
"I have a dishwasher, so that's not necessary. You can load it while I put away the left over food."
While he was helping Kerry clean up, he was able to take a good look at her kitchen. It seemed that hunter green was the main color in her decorating scheme. It was in the spare bedroom, the bathroom, and here in the kitchen. He hadn't noticed if it was in the living room. Probably was. The kitchen was mainly green with bright yellow highlights and white appliances. It was a cheery room and somehow it reminded him of the kitchen at his grandparent's house on Martha's Vineyard. That had been the only room where the children were allowed complete freedom. His grandparent's cook, Marissa, had worked for them for forever and she loved children. Every summer she managed to spoil them rotten. He frowned as he realized that he had no idea if Marissa had a family of her own. There had never been any mention of one. That simply was one of the topics you never discussed with the hired help, even if that hired help had worked for you for over twenty years. It would never occur to his grandparents to even ask about something like that.
Kerry noticed his frown, "Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing's wrong. I'm finished here, so I'll go brush my eeth."
"Okay." She watched him walk away and wondered for the thousandth time why this young man mattered so much to her. The answer was obvious, but it wasn't one that she wanted to pay much attention to. John Carter reminded her of her younger brother. Adam Weaver had bright blue eyes and the blonde hair so the resemblance wasn't a physical one. Rather, it was one of personality. Adam had always confided in her and she in him. The two had a very special bond, even though he was ten years younger. From the very first time she met Carter, she was struck by how much he was like Adam. She didn't dwell on it though because Carter was working with Benton. Even after Carter convinced her to allow him to switch to trauma she was able to keep her distance. It was only this past summer that she felt the walls of her defenses begin to crumble whenever he was around. He wanted so desperately to please her and Mark and he took it so personally when he failed. Kerry had learnt long ago to please only herself and the Hell with pleasing anyone else. It was a lesson that Adam had never learned and it seemed as if it was a lesson that Carter would never learn either.
"I'm ready."
Kerry jumped slightly when he spoke. She hadn't heard him return to the kitchen.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said.
She laughed, "It's not your fault. I was too deep in thought to hear you come in. Give me few minutes and we'll be on our way."
"No need to hurry."
She looked up at the clock, "Oh, yes there is. If we get caught in the lunch hour traffic we might not make it there in time."
Kerry rushed out of the kitchen and he wandered into the living room. Sure enough, hunter green was the dominant color here. One wall was painted in that color while the other walls were a cream color. The green wall was adorned with tribal masks from Africa. Other African art and artifacts were hanging on the other walls, the lone exception being the bookcases that surrounded her entertainment center. Her book collection was diverse and interesting. Medical books, fiction, cook books, and biographies made up her library. He was looking at her CD's when she returned.
"I see that you like jazz," he commented.
"Some. I really like this one guy who plays the organ."
"Jimmy Smith," he grinned.
"You know his work?" she asked.
He nodded, "I have a few of his discs."
"See, we have some things in common, don't we? Are you ready?"
"I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
"It won't be that bad, Carter."
"Have you ever seen a psychiatrist?" he asked.
"No."
"Then you can't say that, can you?"
"A psychiatrist is a doctor, just like you and me."
"Maybe I don't like seeing doctors who are just like you and me?"
"You'll survive. I promise." Kerry smiled up at him and he smiled back at her. It was just like old times with Adam and she told herself that she had might the right decision when she offered Carter a place to stay.
"Let's get on the road, kiddo."
Kerry dropped him off in the reception area of the psychiatrist. She assured him that she would be back there in about an hour, but there was something she needed to take care of while she was at the hospital with him. She headed straight for Litvak's office, hoping to have a word or two with him.
His secretary was not at her desk, not too surprising since it was still lunch time. But, Litvak was in and Kerry knocked on his door frame.
He looked up from whatever it was he was looking at on his desk. "Dr. Weaver, come on in."
Kerry entered his office, closing the door as she did, "I need to speak to you in private, Dr. Litvak."
"Dr. Weaver, if you're here to talk to me about John Carter, then you can save your breath. I had a long talk with Ross and Greene about him yesterday."
"You did?" Kerry didn't remember Mark or Doug mentioning anything about going to talk to Litvak.
"I did. I will tell you the same thing I told them. I understand that Dr. Carter is a little troubled right now and I can make an allowance for that. I'm sure that if he were thinking clearly then there wouldn't be this type of misunderstanding."
"What type of misunderstanding are you talking about, Dr. Litvak?"
"The way he mistook my overtures of friendship and my wanting to get to know my staff as, well, as a sexual come-on. I can assure you that I did not make any type of a pass at him."
Kerry had to use all of her will power to keep from telling him that she knew better than to believe that. She knew what she had seen in his eyes yesterday. She also knew that Carter had never mentioned Litvak to her. She licked her lips, not sure of what to say in reply to his lie.
"Dr. Weaver, I can tell that you still have your suspicions, and I can appreciate your hesitance to believe me over someone that you've known for such a long time," he smiled, "I won't hold that against you. I just want you to keep in mind that John Carter is a very troubled young man. I'm sure that once he has his head on straight that he'll realize that he was jumping to conclusions and imagining things that just weren't there."
"I'm sure he feels that way already." Kerry stood, "Thank you for your time. I won't bother you any longer."
"My door is always open for my staff, Dr. Weaver. Please feel free to drop by at any time. By the way, do you know how Dr. Carter is doing today? Dr. Greene told me that you were drove him home after the incident yesterday."
So Mark had not told him that she took Carter home with her. Good. The less Litvak knew about that, the better.
"Mark gave him the day off, so I suppose that we won't know how he's doing until we see him tomorrow."
"But, he does have an appointment with a psychiatrist today, doesn't he?"
Kerry noticed the worried look in Litvak's eyes and she knew then that Litvak had definitely been lying about Carter. What she couldn't tell is whether Litvak was truly worried about Carter or if he was worried about what, if anything, Carter would tell the psychiatrist about him.
"I believe that he made an appointment for today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something I need to attend to downstairs."
"Of course. I'll see you in the morning then. Oh, by the way, you did a good job on that report."
"Thank you," she said.
Kerry left his office and went straight to the E.R. to see what Mark and Doug had to say about their conversation with Litvak. Again, her luck held out. Both doctors were on duty and both were available to speak to her.
"How's Carter doing?" Mark asked her.
They had gone into the lounge for coffee and a little bit of privacy.
"He seems much better today. He slept until eleven, although he might have managed to sleep even longer, but I had to wake him up so he could eat before his appointment."
"Did he actually eat something?" Doug asked.
She nodded, "He ate some salad and half a bowl of soup. I could tell that he didn't want to come here today, but he didn't fight me on it." She checked her watch. "He should be in his appointment by now."
The two men nodded, then Mark cleared his throat, "We spoke with Dr. Litvak after you and Carter left yesterday."
"I know. I saw him before I came down here."
"Then you know that he claims that he never pulled anything with Carter."
Kerry looked directly into Mark's eyes, "That's what he said. I don't believe a word of it."
"Kerry, Litvak is right about Carter's state of mind," Doug began.
She cut him off, "I watched Litvak speak with Carter yesterday and I saw the look that was in his eyes. It was lust, Doug. Pure lust. He's just lying now in an effort to save his own butt."
Mark sighed, "Kerry, I can't dispute what you thought you saw, but even you have to admit that Carter hasn't been thinking right lately."
"I will admit that. But, I know what I saw. Randi saw it, too. I don't think that the two of us were imagining the same thing!"
"Look, you may be right," Doug said, "But, you may also be wrong. I think that from now on, we'll all just keep our eyes wide open whenever Litvak is anywhere near Carter. If he really did make a pass at him before then the chances are he will do so again."
Mark nodded, "I agree. It won't hurt to keep a close eye on things."
They both looked at Kerry and she finally nodded, "I don't see any real alternative right now. But, I'll tell you one thing. If Dan Litvak does try something with Carter, then his ass is mine."
She slammed her coffee cup down on the counter and stalked out of the room. Doug whistled, "Reminds me of a mother lion protecting her cub."
"Doesn't it though? What I want to know is, when did she ever feel that way towards Carter?"
"When did Kerry Weaver ever feel that way toward anyone?"
"Doug, she's not inhuman."
"Yeah, I suppose that's true. Every now and then she slips up and a real human being with feelings emerges," he shook his head. "Man, I would not want to be in Dan Litvak's shoes if she goes after him."
"If Litvak hurts Carter in any way, shape, or form, then there'll be more than just Kerry going after him."
Carter sat across from his doctor, very nervous about being there. The psychiatrist that he was seeing was new to the hospital and Carter had not heard of him before. He was somewhere in his fifties, with salt and pepper hair and kind blue eyes. His name, according to his name plate, was Hugh McIntyre.
"So, Dr. McIntyre, are you from Chicago?"
"No. I'm from the Los Angeles area. Have you ever been there?"
"Once. When I was a kid we went there to see a medical specialist."
"What about you? Are you from around here?"
Carter nodded, "Born and raised in the Chicago area."
"I understand that you're a resident in our Emergency Room?"
"Yeah," Carter nodded. He didn't know what to do with his hands. He had put them on the arms of the chair when he first sat down, but when he found himself tapping the wood, he figured he had better find something else to do. He didn't want Dr. McIntyre to see that he was nervous about being here, even though he was. Maybe if he sat on them...no, that wouldn't look good either. He finally clasped them together in his lap.
"May I call you John?"
"Sure."
"John, there's really no reason for you to be nervous. When Dr. Ross called me to set up your appointment, he told me a little bit about what had happened to you yesterday."
Immediately suspicious, Carter asked, "What did he tell you?"
"That you haven't been sleeping well lately. That you haven't been eating right. That you didn't return to work after meeting him for lunch at Doc Magoo's and that he and Dr. Greene found you up on the roof, soaking wet and a little, shall we say, disoriented?"
"I was cold. "We" should say that. Look, I really don't think I need to be here. I only agreed to see you because Dr. Greene and Dr. Weaver didn't give me much a choice yesterday. As a doctor, I realize that poor nutrition and lack of sleep can play havoc with a person's ability to make reasonable decisions."
"And that's what happened in your case?"
"Exactly."
"And is this the reason why you hang up on your father every time he calls you here at work?"
"Who told you that?"
"That's not important, John. What is important is that a lot of bad things have happened to you. The human psyche can only handle so much at one time. Sooner or later, something has to give."
"I want to know who told you that. Have people been talking to you about me?"
"No. I did ask Dr. Greene and Dr. Ross some questions. It is common knowledge that yesterday you hung up after a caller was identified as your father. Several people witnessed this. John, let me ask you a question."
"As if I can stop you," Carter looked down at his hands. How could his friends betray him like this? How could they tell his man his business?
"You can."
As the silence grew longer, Carter realized that Dr. McIntyre was not going to ask him this question. He looked up to find that the doctor was staring at him, waiting patiently for an answer.
Carter shrugged, "Go ahead then."
"When they found you on the roof, you told them that you had tried to jump, but that you couldn't. Is that true? Did you try to kill yourself yesterday, John?"
Carter looked away, seeing the scene in his mind. Remembering how much he wanted the pain to go away. He nodded.
"Tell me what happened," the doctor softly said.
"There's not much to tell. I climbed over the railing, but I just couldn't let go. I even stretched out, but...I just couldn't bring myself to let go."
"And do you know why you couldn't let go?"
"Because I was too scared."
"No, it was because yesterday, you wanted to live too much. The same may be true for today, I don't know. I do know that if you walk out that door now, with the attitude that you don't need any help, with the attitude that there's nothing wrong with you that a little sleep and good food won't cure, then I can guarantee you that next time, you will go through with it. And believe me, John, there will be a next time. I'm not trying to scare you in an effort to keep you as a patient. I'm trying to get you to see and acknowledge the fact that sometimes you can't handle things by yourself. Now, if you can't admit that, then you should leave right now. The choice is yours, John."
Again, a long silence. A weariness settled upon him, a weariness that had been a companion for far too long lately. "I'm tired, Dr. McIntyre. I'm so tired of being alone. I'm tired of feeling as if I've been abandoned."
"How long have you been feeling this way?"
"When haven't I felt this way would be a better question." He closed his eyes and rested his face in his hands, trying to remember the last time he had felt as if he truly belonged to anyone or anyplace.
"It was before Bobby got leukemia."
"Who's Bobby?"
"My older brother. He was my older brother. It killed him when I was ten years old. He was diagnosed with it when I was eight."
"Is he the reason your family went to see a specialist in L.A.?"
"Yeah. My parents and grandparents didn't waste any money in their efforts to save his life. It didn't matter though. There wasn't anything the doctors could do to save him. But, the doctors here were great. Not here, at this hospital, but here in Chicago. They were so wonderful with Bobby, making him feel like he wasn't a freak or something worse. They treated him as if he really mattered. And they didn't ignore me, either. Bobby was insistent that I be with him when he had to do anything - chemo, regular visits, all of it. His doctors would take the time to talk to me about what was going on with him. And with me. That was when I decided that I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up."
"Even though they couldn't save your brother?"
"They tried their best and they never lost track of the fact that he was a human being with feelings. They really cared about him and our family."
"And yet you felt abandoned."
He shook his head, "Not then. Not when Bobby was alive. It Was when he died. It was autumn when he died. I was riding my bike home from school and all of a sudden I could see him standing there on the side of the road. I had to brake hard and I fell off the bike. When I got up, he was gone and I started crying right then because I knew that he had just died. He had promised me that he wouldn't die unless I was with him. But, I guess that he couldn't hold on any longer. We lived in this nice house out in Glen Ellyn. My father had vowed that he would never live off of his father's money. He was determined to make it on his own. Of course, when Bobby got sick, Grandfather insisted on helping out financially. It kept us from losing our house. The week after Bobby's funeral, dad and mom sat us down in the living room and told us that they were going international with their law practice and that going international meant they would have to travel a lot. At first, I was excited about the idea. I thought that Barbara and I would be travelling with them. I was wrong. They had made arrangements for us to finish our school year in a boarding school here in Illinois. By the end of the week, we were there. They never asked us how we felt about them going away. Why did they do that to us? Couldn't they see how much we needed them? Bobby was dead. Precious Bobby, the first-born grandchild. The one who was supposed to follow in Grandfather's footsteps was dead. And we were treated as if We didn't matter at all to anyone. Our parents stuck us in a school and left the country. I think that dad said something about mom needing to get away, but Barb and I needed to get away too, and we needed to have our parents with us. We lost our brother and then we lost our parents - all within two weeks."
"I can see why you felt abandoned by them."
"Yeah. You know, we had a dog and a cat at the house. When we came home for Thanksgiving, we found that the house had been sold and the dog and cat had been given away. I don't even know who took them or if they ended up in good homes. We stayed with my grandparents over Thanksgiving. When Christmas came, we hoped that we would be able to have our parents to ourselves, but that didn't happen."
"You stayed with your grandparents again?"
Carter nodded, "Yeah. Our parents didn't come home that Christmas. They were busy in Europe. They sent presents, but they didn't come home. It was bad enough to have to spend Christmas without my brother, but, I don't understand why they didn't come home. I can remember sitting on the top of the staircase and hearing my grandparents arguing with my aunt and uncle about it. Grandfather defended them, saying that it couldn't be helped. My uncle said that my dad was a lousy excuse for a father if he couldn't even be bothered to be with his kids on Christmas. The next day, he was really great with us. He treated us as if we were his own kids. His son Chase, who is my age, didn't seem to mind. Usually, the two of us fought over any little thing. They didn't come home for Easter, either. We didn't see them again until we arrived at our grandparents house on Martha's Vineyard. I was so happy to see them. I knew that God had finally answered my prayers. He was making us a family again. But, they only stayed for two weeks and then they were gone. We didn't See them again until Thanksgiving. I guess that all of that dedication to work paid off for them, because now my dad is among the 30th richest men in the Chicago area. He always beats out grandfather. Eventually, my Uncle joined his business, although I think he did that so he could get away from grandfather. Once Bobby was no longer "the heir" my grandfather needed to find someone else to train to run the company when he wanted to retire. My dad was out of the country and therefore out of the picture. My aunt was a woman and he refused to consider her because of that. That left my uncle. He didn't want the job, so he took off. That left the grandchildren: me, Chase, Barbara and A. C., who is my aunt's daughter. Since my Grandfather was chauvinistic, Barb and A. C. were not in the running. That left me and Chase. I wanted to be a doctor and Chase wanted to be an artist. We were told that we would go into business or law and follow in his footsteps. It really made him angry when my parents backed my decision to go to medical school." Carter stopped talking as he realized that he had gotten off track.
"Are you okay?" McIntyre asked him.
"Yeah. I was just realizing how little time I've spent with my parents since Bobby died. Some years I see them more than others. I didn't even see them last Christmas. They didn't come home. The Christmas before that, I didn't go to my gandparents house, although I did see my parents on Christmas Day. They say they love me. They say they care about me. If all that is true, then why did they leave me? Why won't they stay here where they belong?"
"I wish I could give you an answer for that, John. All I can say is that sometimes a person can be so blinded by their own pain that they're unable to see the hurt that's in someone else."
"Maybe. But, they should have seen it. They're our parents and it's their job to see things like that, isn't it?"
"It should be. Sometimes we miss things like that in the people we care the most about. How could they go to another country if they didn't think that you and your sister were handling things well?"
"We weren't."
"But your parents couldn't allow themselves to see that. To do so would mean they couldn't go with a clear conscience."
Carter looked askance at the doctor. Was he supposed to say things like that about his parents? Dr. McIntyre seemed to be agreeing with him. Was that allowed? Wasn't he supposed to tell him that he should forgive his parents because, after all, they were only doing the best they could at the time?
"Is something wrong?" Dr. McIntyre asked.
"I was wondering why you were agreeing with me."
"Was I?" he asked with a grin.
John smiled. This was more like it!
"I've never believed in answering questions with more questions. You didn't come here to have me ask you why you think you feel the way you do. I'm here to help you find out why you have these feelings and how to find a healthy way to deal with them. So, tell me, did your parents ever buy another house here?"
Carter nodded, "Dad's perseverance paid off for him. They bought a huge house. A great big empty house. Barb and I were picked up at school by grandfather and he took us there. It was one of those rare holidays when my parents were here and not in Europe or the Caribbean. They had already decorated our rooms for us." He shook his head, "It didn't feel like home. Home was our house in Glen Ellyn. This was like a hotel or something. We never even got to pick out our own rooms. I've never really felt comfortable there."
"I'd say that you and your sister were lucky to have your grandparents around."
"Yeah, we were. At least we felt as if there was a place where we belonged. Of course, after a while, I came to feel as if I belonged at school. I don't know how Barb felt. She just seemed to go along with whatever happened."
"But, you didn't?"
"No. I wanted us to be a family once more, even though Bobby wasn't there any longer. I used to think that if I was good enough then they would want to stay with me. I was determined to be the best at what I did. Not that it mattered. No matter how good I was at track, wrestling, or dressage, they couldn't be bothered to come and watch. I made excellent grades, but that didn't matter much either. They did come to my graduation, and they were proud that I had been accepted at Penn, which is where they went to school. But, that was it. Of course, by then, I was old enough to not need them any more."
"Were you? Do you really feel that you don't need your parents now?"
"I think I liked you better when you weren't asking questions."
"Sorry. John, I'm in my fifties and my parents are still alive and in good health. I still need them. I turn to my father for advice and to my mother for comfort. I don't think that's something that a person ever outgrows."
"It wouldn't matter if I did need them. They're not around. I know that this isn't right, but sometimes I get so angry with Bobby for dying. I start to think about how different things would have been if he would have lived. I know it wasn't his fault for dying. The doctors did everything they could and so did I."
"I'm sure that you were a comfort to your brother or else he wouldn't have wanted you with him all the time."
"We were very close. When the doctors told me that my bone marrow was a match for Bobby, I just knew that it would make him well." Carter frowned, "It didn't matter at all. At the time, I felt so guilty because I felt I had gone through all that for nothing. Of course, my pain was nothing compared to his suffering."
He wiped his eyes, ashamed to be crying in front of a stranger, "I really miss him."
"I'm sure you do. And I'm sure your parents feel the same way, John."
"I wish I could know that for sure."
"Why don't you ask them?"
Carter shook his head. "No one talks about Bobby around them. It's almost as if he never existed. His photos are on the walls, but that's about it. No one has enough guts to say, "Hey, do you remember when you and Bobby used to do such and such?" No, there's none of that. Not around my parents' house or at my grandparents place. I used to be able to talk to Chase about Bobby, but I can't do that anymore."
"The two of you don't get along anymore?"
"Once we grew up, we got along great. When my apartment building burned down a couple of years ago, Chase gave me a great present. He had copies made of all the childhood pictures he could find. A lot of pictures of me and Bobby. It was a really great present. Of all the things I lost in the fire, it was my photo albums that mattered the most."
"You managed to be a doctor, which is what you wanted to be. What about Chase? Did he end up being an artist?"
"He tried. He was a great photographer. But, he let grandfather railroad him into the corporate life and he just couldn't deal with losing his dreams. He turned to drugs. I discovered that he was a heroin addict. He begged me to keep quiet about it and to help him and like a fool, I did. With the help of one of my friends from work, Chase kicked the habit. It was Hell. There were more than a few moments there when I didn't think he was going to get through it, but he did. I still should have told someone though. It wasn't all that long after he kicked the habit that he ended up in the E.R. with an overdose. He had been down for over ten minutes, but I refused to let him die. I did everything I knew how to do, even when those around me were telling me that it was no use. And, I brought him back. May God forgive me, but I brought him back.", Carter squeezed his eyes shut against the tears. "Of course, he suffered a lot of brain damage. He will never come anywhere close to being the way he was before. He can't even hold a camera in his hands, he can't draw, he can't speak. I don't even know if he's aware of what's going on around him. And it's all my fault. Any other patient, and I would have called it. I know I would. But, I just couldn't let Chase go. The worst part is that I don't know if I fought so hard because I care about him, or if I fought so hard because I didn't want any pressure from grandfather to give up medicine and work for him."
He reached for some tissues and took a few moments to compose himself. He had never told anyone else his fear that he had saved Chase for purely selfish reasons.
"Are you okay now?" the doctor asked.
Carter nodded, "Yeah, I guess. You know, I'm supposed to be a healer. I'm not supposed to be the reason why someone is a living shell of what they once were." He shook his head. "I wanted to help people, not hurt them."
"I know how you feel, John. I don't have an answer for you though. I can't look into your heart and see why you did what you did for Chase. But, I would bet that even if it had been another patient, that you still would have done all you could to save him or her."
He took a pad of paper from his top drawer and began to write on it. "I'm going to give you a prescription for something that will help you get some rest once you get to sleep. I'm just going to give you enough for one week, but you don't have to use it. I'll leave it up to you. However, I think that you should take a pill each night."
"Are you sure you can trust me with a prescription?"
"I think so. Besides, you are staying with someone right now, aren't you?"
Carter nodded, "At least for a few days."
"Good. I'm sure that you can trust Dr. Weaver to hold onto them for you."
"I'm sure I can, too. So, does this mean I'm done here?"
"For today. I'd like to see you again tomorrow, but if you can't manage that, then a week from today will have to do."
"I don't know."
"John, no one is going to think any less of you because you're seeing me."
"You don't know my family."
"I think I'm beginning to know them. You have to do what's right for you, John. I don't think you'll get into any trouble with your supervisors if you take an hour out of each day to talk to me."
"That's true enough," he nodded, "Fine. Tomorrow it is."
"Great." Dr. McIntyre stood and walked around his desk. As Carter stood, he handed him the prescription, "You should get this filled today and start using it tonight."
"Okay." They walked out to the reception area where Kerry was waiting.
"Tina, make him an appointment for the same time for every day this week."
"Yes, sir," the receptionist replied.
Kerry raised her eyebrows questioningly, but she refrained from saying anything. If Carter wanted to talk to her about what had gone on in there, then he would tell her. If he didn't, then she would just have to accept that.
"We need to go by the pharmacy so I can get this filled." He gave her the prescription. "He wants me to take one tablet every night."
She noted the medication and the dosage and she nodded her agreement, "I'm not in any hurry to get back home."
"Did you get everything taken care of downstairs?" he asked as they left the office.
"Yes, I did. Mark and Doug were glad to hear that you're doing much better today."
"I don't know how I'm going to face them tomorrow. Any of them. I feel like such a fool."
"Carter, no one is thinking any such thing about you. You have nothing to be ashamed about, so don't even think about how you're going to face them!"
"I'll try," he said, "but, I'm not making any guarantees."
"Good, because I'm not asking for any. Besides, I've come to find that there are no guarantees in this world."
"That's the truth."
She made a face, "A sad, sad truth. Let's get this filled and get the hell out of here."
"I thought you weren't in a hurry to get home?" he teased.
"I'm not, but I'm not anxious to spend all afternoon here, either. I get enough of this place during working hours."
"I like it here."
"You should, you've certainly spent enough time here, Carter."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It could be. I think that we both spend way too much time in this hospital. What we need is a life. A real life."
"I didn't think I could have a life if I wanted to be Chief Resident someday."
"Looking back, I think that having a life is worth more than being Chief Resident. Ambition is fine, but I'm beginning to question if certain sacrifices are necessary. I gave up a life in order to pursue my quest for a good position with the hospital, and what do I have to show for it now? I'm still an attending and Dan Litvak is my boss. I should have opted for the life, Carter."
"So, you don't think I should try for Chief Resident?" Kerry had always been the one pushing ambition.
"I think that you should do whatever it is that makes you happy," she replied. "If that means being Chief Resident, then go for it. If it means not being that, then let it go. Just be happy, Carter."
"Are you happy?"
Kerry paused to think about that and she realized that if she was truly happy then she wouldn't need to think about it. She would just know. "No. Right now, I'd have to say that I'm not happy with my life. And it isn't just losing out on Morgenstern's old job. My life is empty."
"I know the feeling."
She didn't want to get him even more depressed, so she forced a smile, "See how much we have in common? Carter, you have got to decide to stay. I think we'll get along great."
"Yeah, two depressed individuals under one roof. Can't beat that."
"Smartass!"
Carter was prevented from replying to that un-Kerry like comment by the fact they had reached the pharmacy counter and he had to deal with the woman behind the counter. Never in a million years would he have pictured Kerry Weaver as having a sense of humor. She was a war-horse. She was invincible and, well, she was a real bitch at times. But, now he was seeing a new and different side to her. It was a pity that she didn't behave this way at work - maybe more people would like her.
After a short wait, he got his prescription and they left the pharmacy. As they walked down the hallway, Carter noticed that Kerry was favoring her leg more than usual. Guilt washed over him because he knew that it would be a long walk for them to reach the parking garage. Unless they took a back elevator and cut through the E.R. Hell, he was going to have to face everyone tomorrow anyway, so what difference would it make if he saw them today?
"Dr. Weaver, why don't we take these elevators down?"
She looked up at him, "These go to the E.R., are you sure you want to go down there?"
He pushed the button, "I'm sure. I need to see if Lucy has managed to screw up anything today."
"Aren't you being a little hard on her?"
"I don't know. Every time I think that I am, she goes and pulls something that makes me think I'm not being hard enough on her."
"Well, don't forget that at the end of her rotation, she will get the opportunity to evaluate you."
He groaned, "Don't remind me. I remember how happy I was when I found out that I got to evaluate Benton. I did get a bit carried away, but I was lucky that Dr. Hicks allowed me a chance to re-write it."
The elevator arrived and they got on, selecting the ground floor. He continued, "Still, I have to teach her the best way I can, and I can't allow a fear of a poor evaluation keep me from doing my job."
"I suppose that's one way to look at it. The important thing is that she comes away from this rotation with a working knowledge of what happens in an E.R."
"Right now, I'm settling for her getting out of the rotation with me still being alive and in one piece."
She glanced up at him and was relieved to see that he was joking with her about that. At least she hoped that little smile meant he was joking. Having his sense of humor back was certainly a good sign that he was feeling better.
When they arrived in the Emergency Room, Carter was relieved to find that no one treated him differently then they did on any other day. There was no mention of the events of the previous day. He had just sighed with relief when he noticed someone at the admit desk talking to Randi.
Kerry stopped when she noticed that Carter was no longer walking with her. She went back to where he stood, "Is something wrong?"
"You might say that."
She looked to see who or what he was staring at. The only new person in sight was the absolutely beautiful woman who was at the admit desk. She was petite, with a full head of dark hair. She was impeccably dressed and her clothes reflected her wealth. When he woman looked her way, Kerry saw that she and Carter had the same dark eyes. This is definitely a relative of his, she thought.
With a wavering smile, the woman approached them.
"John, I was hoping to catch you here at work," her voice was warm and vibrant.
"Actually, I'm off today. Why are you here? Where's Dad?"
"Your father is still in Paris. As to why I'm here, well, I think we need to talk. I thought about calling, but seeing as how you won't give your father a chance on the telephone, I didn't want to take the risk that you'd hang up on me. So, here I am."
Kerry looked from the mother to the son. Carter was visibly tense and ill at ease. She wondered if that was a usual condition for him when he was around his mother, or was it because of everything that had been going on with him lately? She still had no idea why he was refusing to speak with his father, so maybe his anger with him also extended to his mother.
"I can't talk right now. Dr. Weaver and I are on our way somewhere."
"Dr. Weaver?"
"I'm Kerry Weaver, one of the attending physicians here in the E.R." Kerry took the liberty of introducing herself since it was apparent that Carter wasn't going to do it. "And, Carter, our plans can be changed. It isn't often that you get a chance to talk to your mother alone."
"John has mentioned you before and it's a pleasure to be able to meet you, Dr. Weaver. By the way, my name is Jenny Carter," she extended her hand and Kerry shook it. Both women had strong, confident grips and they sized each other up fairly accurately in that brief period of contact.
"Then I guess we can talk. Where would you like to go?"
"I would say our house, but right now I don't think you'd be willing to go there. How about the Aquarium? You've always enjoyed going there."
"That's fine. Why don't you go on outside and I'll meet you there in a minute or two?"
She nodded, "That will be fine." She turned her attention back to Kerry, "It was nice meeting you."
"Same here. Take care, Mrs. Carter."
Kerry watched Carter as he watched his mother leave the building. She saw many emotions flit across his face, but joy was not one of them.
"I'm sure things will go fine, Carter."
"I wish I was sure. She's never left Dad behind before. She must be really angry with me."
"She didn't sound or act angry."
"She never does," he scowled. "I know this sounds dumb, but I wasn't paying much attention yesterday when we went to your place. What's your address and how do I get there?"
Kerry smiled, "It doesn't sound dumb at all." She grabbed a pen and some paper from the desk and quickly jotted down the information.
She handed it to him with a smile. "If you want, I can drive out to the Aquarium. That way you'll have a ride when you're done."
"Thanks, but there's no need for you to go to all that trouble. I'll be fine. I'll see you back at your place later."
"I'll walk out with you."
As they left, they didn't notice that Dan Litvak had been behind them during the last part of their conversation.
"So, Kerry Weaver is so concerned about John Carter because she's having her own little fling with him." His smile was more than evil, it was down right malignant, "Well, I wonder what Dr. Anspaugh has to say about this little development in the Emergency Room?"