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One, Two, Three |
Chapter 2 |
Though he wouldn't say it aloud, John still felt a little chilly. With a sidelong glance at his passenger, he tweaked the dial up another notch. As the heater responded with a warmer flow of air, he settled back in his seat. That was much better.
Susan hadn't said much during the drive. He wondered if she was still embarrassed about what had happened in the lounge. From his viewpoint, being stared at by a group of women while in his undershirt wasn't too big of a deal. It's not like he'd been caught with his pants down. But the fact that he'd been alone with Susan put a different spin on things. He imagined the rumours would be flying now.
The church was more out of the way than he'd expected. If she'd used the El, it would have taken forever. He was glad to be driving her. Across from the church was a fairly big parking lot, but it seemed full. The side streets were also lined with cars.
"This is fine, Carter. Just drop me off here."
"You sure? I can...hey, there's a spot."
"Where?"
He pointed towards an empty space in the back corner of the lot and swung the car around. "I'll park here and help bring your bag in."
"You don't have to."
"I know. But it's pretty slippery out. What if you fell and ripped your dress? Then where would you be."
"Good point."
After parking, he pushed open the door and stepped outside. He sucked in a breath as the icy air stung his cheeks, making him shiver. The cold seemed to seep straight into his bones. They quickly gathered Susan's stuff and made their way over to the church. He was about to start ascending the stairs when she stopped. "Hold on. I just remembered that Kris told me to go around the back. There's a big hall there, where the reception is going to be. I'm supposed to go in through there."
The path was well-lighted and they easily found the door to the hall. He brushed past her to hold it open. Before she could step inside completely, they found themselves ambushed.
"Jesus, Susie, where have you been!"
Looking startled, it took Susan a moment to respond to the red-haired woman dressed in white. "Hello to you too. May I remind you that we're in church?"
The woman made a face, waving one hand. "Whatever. We're not technically *in* the church anyway. I've tried calling your cell phone ten times." She finally looked in John's direction. "Who's this?"
"This is Carter," Susan replied. "I mean, John Carter. We work together and he drove me down here."
"Well, thank God for that! And I mean that literally." She clasped his hand in a firm handshake. "I'm Kristine. I'm getting married today."
He smiled at her with genuine amusement. He had pretty much figured that out since she was wearing a bridal gown. "Congratulations. It's good to meet you."
"I'm really sorry I'm late," Susan began to say, but her cousin cut her off.
"Don't worry about it. Actually, we're still waiting for some people to arrive. A lot of them are coming from outside the city and I guess this place isn't so easy to find. Anyway, I've got bigger troubles. One of the groomsmen is sick. He's been running for the washroom and throwing up every ten minutes. Do you think it's food poisoning?"
Susan tilted her head slightly. "It could be. Or it might be the flu. You want me to take a look at him?"
"Yeah, could you? Unless..." As Kristine's voice trailed off, she regarded John with questioning eyes. "Are you a doctor too?"
"Yes," he replied.
"But he can't stay," Susan blurted out. "if that's what you're thinking. I'm sure he's got better things to do."
"Actually, I don't have any plans," he said. Catching the look Susan shot him, he tried to interpret the hidden meaning. "Uh, unless you'd prefer that I leave."
"I didn't say that," she said, sounding a little snappish.
"Come on, Susie," Kristine cajoled. "You need to get dressed and get your hair and makeup done. Let John take a look at Malcolm."
Susan sighed. "All right. If you really don't mind."
Kristine led the way through the room that was decorated with the Valentine's Day theme in mind. Among other things, heart-shaped balloons bobbed around the perimeter of the room and each table was strewn with tiny confetti hearts. As they passed by the large table overcrowded with presents, Susan retrieved her bag from John and added her gift to the pile.
They entered a hallway and came upon a young man leaning against the wall. He looked slightly uncomfortable, as if he wasn't used to wearing a suit. He straightened up as the group approached him.
"How is he doing?" Kristine asked.
"Not so good." He nodded towards the washroom door. "He's puking his guts up as we speak."
"Rick, this is Dr. John Carter. He's going to check on Malcolm and try to help him." She turned to John. "I'm taking Susie down the hall to get ready. I'll be back in a little while."
John motioned for Rick to go in first and he followed behind the younger man. They entered a small room set apart from the bank of washroom stalls. On one of the chairs along the wall, a man was slumped over with his head in his hands. Although he must have heard people coming towards him, he didn't bother to look up. Since Rick didn't say anything, John spoke first. "You must be Malcolm. How are you feeling?"
"Like crap," came the mumbled reply.
"I'll bet. My name is John Carter. I'm a doctor. Have you eaten anything unusual today?"
With a laboured breath, Malcolm finally glanced up at him and slowly sat upright. His face was slightly flushed and he looked utterly miserable. "No, I don't think so."
"What did you eat?"
"Uh, some toast and cereal for breakfast. I wasn't very hungry at lunch so I just made a shake. Haven't eaten any dinner yet. I was saving my appetite for the reception here."
"What kind of shake? A milkshake?"
"Protein shake. It's my own recipe," he stated. "Wheat germ, milk, a banana."
John was already starting to form a theory. "Raw egg?" he inquired.
"Yeah. Why, what's wrong with that?"
"Sometimes, salmonella bacteria is present in raw eggs."
Malcolm's eyes widened. "You're kidding me. I've been drinking that shake almost every day for ten years."
"Well, it's only a possibility," John conceded. "What symptoms do you have? Obviously you're vomiting."
"Oh yeah."
"Any diarrhea?"
"No."
"Abdominal cramps?"
"A little."
He considered the redness of Malcolm's face. Stepping to the man's side, he placed a hand on his forehead. "I can't tell if you have a fever," he murmured. "I think you should go to the hospital, though. That's the only way to know for sure if this is food poisoning. You might need antibiotics."
"Oh, geez! Of all days for this to happen," Malcolm groaned. As a queasy look crossed his face, he cupped one hand to his mouth and bolted from the chair, heading to the stalls. Unpleasant retching sounds were heard moments later.
John looked back at Rick. He guessed the kid was in his late teens. As the heaving sounds continued, Rick's expression was an almost humourous cross between boredom and disgust. "Are you a friend?" he asked.
"His brother."
"Do you have a car?"
"To drive him to the hospital? I guess so." Rick sounded less than enthusiastic. "Man, he better not upchuck in the car. I just got it last month."
John tried to suppress a smile. "Bring a few plastic bags with you," he advised. "I'm going to step outside. Holler if you need me."
It was a little cooler in the hallway. He was actually beginning to feel too warm in his winter coat. He unbuttoned it and unwound Susan's scarf from his neck, letting it dangle loosely. Though he was tempted, he didn't remove the coat completely. A few minutes later, Malcolm shuffled out, one hand on his younger brother's shoulder for support. He thanked John for his time and asked that he tell Kristine and her soon-to-be husband Tony, that he was going to the hospital.
John leaned against the wall for a while. Then he wandered over to the reception hall and watched some of the activity in there. Hopeful that Susan might be ready by now, he returned to the spot where he'd last seen the two women. No luck yet. He continued to stand against the wall, giving the occasional person passing by a friendly smile. Some gave him curious looks but no one talked to him.
At long last, he thought he could hear the distinct sound of her husky laughter. Sure enough, she emerged from around the corner with her cousin. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't help himself. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Frankly, he hadn't paid much attention to the dress while she'd been carrying it. Now that she was wearing it, he could appreciate the simple beauty of it. It hugged her slender frame in all the right places and the deep colour made her skin seem to glow.
This was the first time he'd noticed that she had such a long and supple neck. Probably because he didn't recall ever seeing her with her hair up before. He had a thing for women's necks, especially that hollow spot right at the base of the throat. Dragging his gaze up from that enticing portion of her anatomy, he could see that she was staring back at him.
"Do I look that bad?" she asked, sounding worried.
"Bad?" he repeated, in disbelief. "God, no. Why would you say that?"
"You're staring at me like you've never seen me before. I knew this dress wouldn't suit me."
"Are you kidding me? You look beautiful."
Kristine gave Susan a pointed look. "See? When I told you how good you looked, you wouldn't believe me." She glanced back at John again. "So how is Malcolm?"
"It probably is food poisoning. Rick took him to the hospital to make sure."
She cursed under her breath. "Will he be okay?"
"I'm sure he'll be fine," John reassured her.
Kristine continued to look upset. "This can't happen. It'll be bad luck. And the pictures won't look right."
He wasn't able to follow her logic. "What do you mean?"
"Four bridesmaids and three groomsmen. It's bad luck!"
"Don't be so superstitious," Susan chided. "Besides, I've never heard of something like that being bad luck."
Kristine crossed her arms, looking rather like a belligerent child. "You never know," she insisted. "Malcolm was supposed to be partnered with you. Who will you dance with now?"
Although it seemed to escape Kristine's notice, John sensed Susan perking up at the notion that she might not have to dance. "John, what size are you?"
He blinked at the bride. "Huh?"
"Your tux size."
"Why are you asking him that?" Susan demanded in a suspicious tone. "You're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"
"Well, he's already said he doesn't have any plans. What do you say, John? How would you like to be in my wedding?"
He honestly didn't know how to respond. "Uh..." he uttered inanely. But he didn't have to worry. Susan seemed to be doing all the talking on his behalf.
"This is ridiculous," she huffed.
Kristine faced her with a challenge in her voice. "Why? Why is it so ridiculous? Give me three reasons why he shouldn't do this."
Susan groaned, placing one hand against her temple. "Oh, don't do this. Not now. We're not twelve years old anymore."
Her cousin looked ready to claim victory. "You can't. You can't come up with any good reasons, can you."
"Here's one for you," Susan retorted. "You don't even know him. How can you invite someone into your wedding party that you don't know?"
Kristine pondered the question briefly and addressed John. "You work with Susie, right?"
"Right," he affirmed.
"And are you friends with her?"
"Sure."
"Well, there. If he's a friend of yours, that makes him a friend of mine. Give me another one."
"It's...it's been a long day," Susan said, sounding less confident. "He's tired."
"You've worked just as long and you're here. Strike two. Last chance."
She raised her arms up in frustration, clearly racking her brain. "He probably doesn't want to. He's just too polite to say that. Don't be afraid to say no, Carter. You don't have to do this."
The ball was in his court now. He swallowed nervously. Susan seemed to be implying that she didn't want him to stay. Or was she only acting this way because she didn't think *he* wanted to stay? This was giving him a headache. He had to go with his gut feeling. And his gut was telling him that he wanted to remain by her side a little longer.
He cleared his throat. "If you've got a spare tux, I'll try it on."
***************
It was a medium-sized church but it was filled to capacity. Susan couldn't believe she was starting to feel butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Her dress began to feel too tight and she squirmed uncomfortably.
"You okay?" came a concerned voice.
"Fine," she stated shortly, without looking up at him. She also couldn't believe the tux fit Carter perfectly. Of course, Kristine had brought a couple of extras in two different sizes, claiming 'You never know what can happen. One of the guys could spill something on themselves'. Susan was mildly surprised that she hadn't brought any extra bridesmaid dresses too. Her cousin was a little insane that way; had always been extremely organized. Sometimes, it drove Susan nuts. But she realized that in a way, she was envious of Kristine's natural efficiency. No matter how hard she tried to put her life in order, things never seemed to run smoothly for her.
The music started playing and she finally glanced up at John. To be honest, she was glad to be strolling down the aisle with him, as opposed to Malcolm. Her intended partner was a stranger to her; a friend of the groom. She at least took comfort in her co-worker's familiar presence. Taking his offered arm, they began to move forward. Going no further than five steps, her ankle wobbled unsteadily and she stumbled. She managed to remain on her feet with John's help.
"Easy, there," he said softly.
"It's these damned shoes," she groaned. "If I fall flat on my face, you better not laugh."
Despite her warning, he chuckled lightly. "Just hang on to me. I won't let you fall."
She made it to the front of the chapel without further incident. In fact, the rest of the ceremony proceeded beautifully. In what seemed like a blink, it was all over. As the guests began to slowly make their way to the reception area, the wedding party stayed behind for picture taking. There weren't many suitable outdoor settings in Chicago in mid-February, so it would be done here.
Susan hugged Kristine and extended her congratulations to the new husband. She'd only met Tony on one previous occasion but she sensed that he was a good man. While her cousin's hyper personality reminded her of her sister, Kristine had always had a good head on her shoulders. Unlike Chloe, she'd never gotten herself into trouble. Well, not any serious trouble, anyway. In contrast, Tony was quiet and had a calming influence on Kristine. They were a good match together.
After talking with them briefly, Susan returned to John's side. He raised one questioning eyebrow. "Well?" he asked.
"Yes, she wants you in the picture. She's planning to have each pair of bridesmaid and groomsman standing together, so I can't be the oddball with no partner," she reported.
"All right. I just saw a guy running out of here like a madman. Any idea what that's about?"
"Yeah, he's the photographer. He forgot something in his car." She paused in her explanation when he suddenly burst out with laughter, shaking his head. "What? What's so funny?"
He took a moment to compose himself, grinning. "I was just thinking how strange this all is. I'm going to be in this wedding picture and people will be pointing at me, saying, 'Who the heck is this guy?'"
She had to laugh along with him. "That's true. But you've made Kris very happy, so you've done a good thing."
"I've never had a Valentine's Day quite like this. But I tell you, it sure beats the one..." His voice faded and for a moment, he seemed lost in the past. "Well, I don't want to get into it now but let's just say, I'm glad to be making new memories about this day."
She knew he must be referring to his stabbing attack two years ago. This was the first time she'd heard him speak about it. Although she was tempted to probe him about it further, this wasn't the time or the place. "I hope you don't feel dragged into all of this. All I wanted from you was a quick dance lesson. I never thought you'd become part of the wedding."
He smiled and rubbed her arm in a reassuring way. "I know. And really, I'm glad to be here. This was my choice, remember? You tried to get me out of it." An expression of uncertainty flickered across his face. "Actually, um, I was wondering if I made you uncomfortable by doing this."
She reached up to twirl a loose tendril of hair, in a guise of innocence. "Me? Why would you think that?"
"Well, when Kristine was asking me to be a groomsman, you were giving me a look. But maybe it was just my imagination," he added quickly.
She breathed a sigh, glancing away. "No, you're right," she said truthfully. "You...you have this way of seeing right through me, Carter. I can't hide anything from you. That's part of the reason why I've been keeping my distance from you since I've been back."
"You've got something to hide?" he asked, his tone mild.
"No deep dark secrets, if that's what you mean. I just...I try to be the competent professional at work. I want people to think I'm in complete control of everything. And as a doctor, I have every confidence in myself. In my personal life, though, I'm not so sure of myself. You know what I mean?" Why in the world she was being so open with him now, she didn't know. She hoped she didn't sound like an insecure neurotic.
To her surprise, he nodded at her with a look of complete understanding. "I'm the same way. I know exactly what you mean."
"You do?"
"Sure I do."
"And I guess you're right that in a way, I didn't want you to be part of this wedding," she continued. "My family can be a little, um, dysfunctional sometimes and I didn't want you to see that part of my life."
He barked a short laugh and gave her a wry smile. "You don't have to tell me about dysfunctional families. I can write a book on it."
"We make quite the pair, then, don't we?"
"I guess we do."
The current of understanding flowing between them was disrupted when the photographer finally returned with his missing equipment. Although it was a little unusual, the men and women were paired off as couples, with two sets on either side of the bride and groom. He took quite a few shots and then announced that he'd be taking more casual pictures that were meant to be funny. At one point he asked them to make faces at the camera and in another shot, they stood with strange and angular poses.
"Okay, this is the last one," he called out. "On three, I want the guys to dip the ladies and give them a kiss. Ready?"
Susan shared a glance with John. "Haven't we done this move already?" she asked.
He shrugged, his lips curling with humour. "This one's for posterity."
Unable to tear her gaze away from his engaging eyes, she didn't even hear the count. But in seconds, she found her world tipping, just as it had in the doctor's lounge. Her sense of touch seemed to come alive with an acute awareness. The warmth of his hands supporting her back. The softness of his hair as she reached up to caress the nape of his neck. The heat of his lips as they settled over her mouth. Heavenly.
She lost all sense of time but far too soon for her liking, the contact was broken and her lips felt nothing but cool air. Opening her eyes, she realized she was standing upright again. She stared at him, trying to steady her heartbeat.
"Maybe it's a good thing we didn't try that last part in the lounge," he joked.
"Yes, well," she stammered, suddenly feeling awkward.
"Susan, will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
Her mouth parted but no sound emerged, her mind racing. She was an Attending but he was no longer a student. That wasn't against policy, was it? "Yes, I'd like that," she found herself saying. For several seconds, they stood motionless, smiling at each other in wonder. Feeling a slight twinge in her ankle, she grimaced. "Stand just like that," she instructed, supporting herself with one hand on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking these shoes off. I don't care if I have to dance in bare feet. I can't stand these things anymore."
"I think a woman in bare feet is really sexy."
She resisted the urge to laugh. "Careful, Carter. I happened to overhear you telling Malucci that he looked sexy in red tights. That's quite a fetish you've got going. Now, come on. I'm starving." Grabbing his hand, she pulled him in the direction of the reception hall, taking the time to mentally recite a quick prayer of thanks for not knowing how to waltz.
Completed October 2001
Feedback always appreciated!
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