"Desperately Seeking, Part Two"
by: Cathy and Melissa
It shocked me when Kerry Weaver called. Of all the people from Chicago who might ever call me, she would have been the last one on my list. I was glad she called though. She told me that Carter had disappeared after being made to take a week off from work. She didn't want to go into any details over the telephone - just that something pretty traumatic had happened to him and he was not handling it well. After he had gone, she found an envelope with my address on it lying on his bed. She suspected that he might be heading to Phoenix to see me. She practically begged me to call her if he did turn up at my door. I didn't want to ask her any further questions, if he did show up, I wanted to hear his side of things first.
I was glad that Kerry called. It kept me from being too surprised when I answered the door and found Carter standing there in my hallway, looking like hell. Giving thanks to God that I had the day off, I pulled him into my apartment.
"Kerry Weaver called me," I told him.
He looked puzzled, "Why would she call you?"
"She found an envelope with my address on it in your room. She's very worried about you. She said a lot of people were worried about you."
I took his hand and led him to the couch where we sat side by side. It didn't look as if he was going to talk to me, so I offered him something to drink. I went to the kitchen and poured two glasses of tea, then returned to the couch. He took his, but he didn't drink it. He was glancing around the living room, paying careful attention to the photos of Suzi.
"She's growing up fast, isn't she?" He asked, picking up her most recent photo from the side table.
I smiled, "Yeah. She's adorable. I'm glad I moved down here to watch her grow."
He nodded, then put the photo down.
I was beginning to think that it was time for me to pry into his life. "John, Kerry didn't go into any details. She just said that you were very upset and that they were making you take a week off from work. What happened?"
Carter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, holding his glass with both hands, as if it might fall and break if he didn't. He looked down at the floor as he told me what had happened when he went on his paramedic ride along. His hitting someone and the terrible feeling of guilt over that. Then his relief at finding out that the teenager he hit would be all right. Then the horror of having someone kill one of the paramedics, erroneously blaming him for running over the kid in the first place.
"Those bullets were meant for me, Susan," he said, a catch in his voice. "I was the one they wanted to kill. Because of me, an innocent man is dead and everyone at work tells me that I should just forget about it and get on with my life."
"How long ago did this happen?"
"About two weeks ago. God, Susan, I have nightmares about it. I can't sleep, I can't concentrate and I sure as Hell just can't forget about it!" He put the glass on the table, then leaned back, resting his head against the back of the couch.
"I'm sure that they aren't expecting you to forget it ever happened, Carter. But, they do have a point in that it should not be affecting you this much."
"And just how much should it effect me? Can you tell me that?" he angrily asked. Then he shook his head. "No one else has been able to give me that answer either."
"Have you talked to a psychiatrist about this?"
"No. Kerry and Mark want me to, but..." He closed his eyes and I could see that he was trying to keep from crying in front of me. It was plain that he was torn up inside over this and also plain that Kerry and Mark had either not paid enough attention to his emotional state or that they simply had been unable to get through to him. Remembering the panic in Kerry's voice, I had the feeling that the latter was the case. I would also have to remember to call her, I reminded myself. But, not now. Right now it was Carter's time. I put my hand on his arm and he looked at me, slightly startled at first. At least I think that's what the look in his eyes was about.
"I shouldn't have come here without calling you first, but I didn't know where else to go. Back home, it's either Kerry or Mark telling me what to do or what not to do. I'm tired of it," he sighed.
"You look tired. Did you drive down here?"
He nodded, "Yeah."
"That's a long trip, Carter. Why don't you go and lie down for a little while? We can talk some more once you've gotten some rest."
"I didn't come here to impose on you. I just wanted to talk to you in person."
"It's no imposition. When I left Chicago I told you that you were welcome to visit at any time, didn't I?"
He nodded.
"Well, I meant that. Where's your suitcase?"
"In the car. I don't need anything out of it if I'm just going to take a nap."
I nodded, then gave him the nickel tour of my apartment. I left him in the guestroom, confident that he could handle getting into bed all on his own. I was having to push awkward thoughts out of my head and didn't think that I should be around when he stripped down to his undershorts to sleep.
I sat in the living room, wondering just what he meant by his all of his comments. Kerry was certainly going to have to answer some questions for me when I called her that was for sure. I needed to know exactly what had happened and what had been going on with Carter for the past few weeks. And why were Kerry and Mark constantly telling him what to do and what not to do? That made no sense to me. I was sure he wasn't talking about anything work related - Carter would never make a comment like that about his supervisors.
As I waited for him to be fast asleep so I could call Kerry, I found my thoughts drifting back to Union Station and the kiss from Mark. He had tried to get me to stay in Chicago, telling me that he loved me. The man picked a bad time to finally tell me how he felt. I had already shipped my belongings down here and was ready to begin work at a local hospital. I couldn't just change my plans on a train platform. I told him that I loved him, too. I didn't tell him that I had loved him for a long time. There wasn't time for that. Just enough time for a kiss good-bye. As kisses go, it wasn't bad. A little rushed, but not bad at all. There was no spark though. No electricity running through my body when our lips met. In short, Mark was not Carter. And yet, I could easily say that I loved Mark, but had never said that I loved Carter. I cared about him a lot, that was a given. The man made my toes curl when we were in bed together. I don't think that Carter had it in him to just have sex with a woman. With him, it was always making love. So sweet and tender. So fantastically wild. He was incredible and I found myself wondering if that had changed since we were last together. I wanted to kiss him once more, find out if the spark was still there. More than anything else, I wanted to kiss away the sadness that was so heavy in his eyes.
I quietly opened the door and peaked into the guestroom. He was sound asleep. I hadn't asked him, but I was sure he had driven straight through. He had to be exhausted. I shut the door and went into my bedroom to call Kerry. She had not mentioned if she was at home or work when she called, but the number she left me didn't sound like the number I remembered as being the one for the ER. Must be home, I thought. I shut and locked my door, then dialed the number. She picked it up before the first ring had ended.
"Hello?"
"Kerry, it's Susan Lewis."
"Is John there?" She sounded anxious. Very anxious.
"He showed up about thirty minutes ago. He's exhausted and asleep right now. Care to fill me in on what's been going on with him? He told me about the paramedic ride along and how one of the paramedics was mistakenly killed. What's the rest of the story?"
I could hear her sigh on the other end of the phone and then there was a long silence. Just as I was beginning to think that she wasn't going to talk to me, she answered.
"John blames himself for the death of the paramedic, and for hitting the teenage boy as well. None of it was his fault. Mark and I have tried to tell him that. But, he just won't listen to us or believe us."
"Can you tell me exactly what happened?"
Kerry gave me a more thorough version of the events. I could easily see why Carter would blame himself, but at the same time, it was plain that it wasn't his fault. However, the Carter I knew would take all the blame upon himself. He would never hold the other paramedic to task for telling him to drive away from the scene in the first place and then to keep going once they knew that someone had been run over. Those were facts that Carter would ignore.
"About two days after Audia died, John came home from work with a bag from a liquor store in his hand. He went straight to his room and locked the door. I never saw him again until the next morning and then it was obvious that he had a hangover. I found it easy to overlook that because I knew he was hurting and blaming himself. Plus, there was still an investigation going on over the accident. When the police told us that the teenager admitted that someone had knocked him down in front of the ambulance, which was why John never saw him, I was hopeful that would lift John's spirits. It didn't. His drinking continued, following the same pattern. Except for the fact that he's been withdrawn while at work, his performance there has been as usual. John's a wonderful trauma physician and he never fails to give one hundred percent of his abilities to his patients. But, after work - that was another story altogether. Earlier this week, I finally went to Mark, telling him that I was worried about John and at a loss about what to do to help him. Mark hadn't realized how bad things had gotten for him and he suggested that we encourage John to see a psychiatrist to talk things over. John blew up at us when we approached him about it. This past week has been Hell, Susan. He won't listen to us; he yells at me if I even so much as ask him if he wants a ride to work. And worst of all, I think he might be taking drugs. Some pills have come up missing at work - amphetamines. John denies knowing anything about them, but I don't believe him. Neither does Mark."
"Carter would never steal drugs from work, Kerry. You guys should know better than that."
"Susan, he's severely depressed and feeling enormous guilt over Audia's death. He blames himself for the fact that he's dead. I'm afraid for him, Susan. So very afraid that he's going to do something drastic."
Kerry was talking about suicide. She wouldn't come right out and say the word, but that's what she was talking about. It suddenly felt very cold in my room.
"He went to see his cousin yesterday morning. Chase suffered brain injuries as a result of a heroin overdose."
"I know who Chase is." Carter had mentioned him often in his letters to me.
"According to the nurse who takes care of Chase, John was telling him that he was sorry he wouldn't be seeing him anymore. She just assumed that John was moving away."
"How would you know what Carter told him?"
"Mark followed John there and when he was gone, he went in and asked the nurse. John came home right after that, packed up a few things and took off again. I won't bother you with the details of our conversation as he left."
I could swear that Kerry Weaver was choking back tears, but the idea of her feeling that way about anyone had me stymied, so I thought I was mistaken.
"Mark arrived right before John left and they really got into it, Susan. For a minute or two I thought that Mark was going to try to use physical force to get John to stay. But, he didn't. We've been up all night, worried sick about John and trying to figure out where he would go. This morning, I saw the envelope on his bed. I know that the two of you write to each other constantly and I hoped that he was going to see you. I've been praying that he wants to talk to you as a last ditch effort to find someone who will listen to him and believe him when he says that he's guilty, and not going to you to say goodbye."
"I'm due for some time off from work. I'll stay with him constantly if I have to, Kerry."
"Thanks, Susan. Could you please tell him that we care about him? And not just as a colleague, but as a friend? Especially me. It's been a Godsend for me to have him as a roommate."
"I'll tell him, Kerry. You and Mark can take a breather for a few days at least. I'll see what I can do to help him."
"Call us if you need anything. It won't take long for one or both of us to get to Phoenix."
"I will."
I hung up, wondering just why Carter had come to see me. Was he coming to say goodbye as a way of getting ready to take his own life? Or was he merely reaching out one last time to someone who might be able to talk him out of killing himself? I called the hospital to arrange to have the rest of the week off. Unfortunatly, I was needed for the next day, but would have the rest of the week off. I then sat on my bed and tried to figure out just what to do about Carter's situation. There were no easy answers to that question, so I finally gave up and decided to take care of my household chores. A lot of times, I can figure out my problems a little more easily if I'm busy doing something else. Chloe claims it drives her crazy that I can do that. Which reminded me that I had to cancel my play date with Suzi. I called Chloe to explain why I wouldn't be there. She sounded amused, but she always sounded that way when I mentioned John to her. Now that she's happily married, she thinks everyone else should be, too.
John slept soundly for the next few hours. I would look in on him from time to time, torn between wanting him to rest and hoping to find him awake. Kerry's suspicion that John was taking drugs began to gnaw at me and I was tempted to take his keys and bring his suitcase inside to see what he had packed. But, I didn't. John had been so torn up over his cousin's addiction that I didn't think he would ever take the same risk. Then again, if his state of mind was truly the way that Kerry portrayed it to be, then he might turn to pills to get through the day. Our brief talk upon his arrival had not been long enough for me to get a thorough idea of what was going on in his head.
Looking in on him for the fifth time, I finally found him awake. He was sitting up in bed, a stricken expression upon his face, his hair slightly damp from sweat. He looked far from well.
"I didn't mean to wake you," I said as I perched on the bed beside him.
"You didn't. I had a nightmare."
"About what happened?"
He nodded, but didn't volunteer any information. I decided to be bold.
"I called Kerry. She was relieved to find out you were here and safe."
He snorted, "Kerry and Mark have gotten the strange idea that I'm suicidal."
"Kerry told me about your visit with Chase and the fight you had with Mark."
"Kerry doesn't know as much as she thinks, and neither does Mark. Chase's nurse didn't get everything right when she spoke to Mark about my visit. I had already decided to visit you and I was letting Chase know I would be gone for a few days."
John's eyes never met mine as he spoke and I knew he was lying to me. He had never been a good liar and I had told him once before that it was his eyes that gave him away every time. I guess he had finally learned that lesson.
I didn't see where it would serve any purpose for me to let him know I was aware he was lying. It would only make him defensive and I didn't want that. I wanted him to talk to me about what had happened. I felt that if I could get him to relax, then he would feel enough at ease to tell me how he was feeling about everything. I only knew of one way to get him into a relaxed state, and that was to make love to him.
I'm doing this for your own good, I thought as I leaned over and tenderly kissed his lips. Although I wasn't sure if I meant for his own good or mine. Damn, that spark was still there, even after all the time that had passed since we were last together. Once more I berated myself for leaving him behind.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap, his growing desire evident. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to let go as our lips met once again. Lord, but he tasted good. My own lips parted of their own accord and he sought refuge inside my mouth, tenderly exploring the interior.
While his mouth kept mine occupied, his hands were busy removing my clothes. I had always enjoyed being undressed by Carter - he had always made removing each article of clothing into a separate act of love. I was gratified to discover that tendency had not changed. As my shirt fell to the floor, I could feel my breasts swell within my bra, straining against the fabric. His hands skillfully undid the hooks in the back, loosening it so he could have access to what the satin had so poorly tried to conceal. I then let go of his neck, lowering my arms so he could remove the material that barred him from his objective. I bit at my lip as his mouth sought and found a nipple, slowly inhaling it. I had missed this so much. Not just the sex. I had been out on dates since I moved to Phoenix and more than one of them had ended with me in bed with someone. I had missed having Carter make love to me in a way that only he seemed to know.
"I see that you still like that," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.
"Oh, yeah. What about you, do you still like this?" I lowered my head to his chest, letting my tongue roam freely before I captured one of his nipples in my mouth.
"God, Susan," he panted.
I smiled, then got off his lap so I could undress completely. His eyes were intent upon me, even as he managed to slip out of his boxers. I smiled as I saw them. Carter never was willing to settle for plain white if he had a choice. These were Looney Tunes boxers, with characters running amok all over them. Well, I wasn't interested in sharing Carter with Bugs and the gang.
"What's so funny?" he asked as he reached out to pull me back into bed.
"I like your shorts," I replied, trying not to laugh, but knowing I was going to lose that battle.
"Consider them yours then," he grinned.
"I much prefer what's usually kept inside of them," I said as I leaned closer and nuzzled his neck, breathing a soft kiss against the artery. He shuddered under my touch, just as I knew he would and that emboldened me to see just how much of his body I remembered. In the places where my mind drew a blank, my hands and fingers seemed to remember exactly what to do to bring pleasure to him. He lay still upon the bed as I explored, an occasional moan or "yes" letting me know that I had found something he liked. Some of it was familiar ground for me and there were some things that either I had forgotten or had never known about. It wasn't as if Carter and I had been lovers for years before I left Chicago. No, our time together had been short because I was trying to see if Mark had any interest in me at all beyond that of friendship.
We took turns, Carter and I, at pleasing each other. By the time he was done with me, leaving me limp and shivering upon the sheets, he was ready once more to claim me as his own. As his hungry kisses assaulted my breasts, neck and mouth, I raised my hips, taking him in fully. Only then did I realize that we had forgotten all about condoms or any other type of protection. My mind raced, trying to figure out where I was in my cycle. Without a steady boyfriend, I had seen no need to remain on the pill. My concentration was shattered as Carter began to move slowly, stroking me into a crescendo of emotion that demanded my full attention. If a child was created from this, then so be it, I thought. And then there was no more room for thought. Carter played my body expertly, knowing just how far he could go and bring me a sweet release and yet delay his own gratification. I clung to him as he climaxed, my fingers digging into his buttocks as if I could force more of him into my body with my mere hands. I could feel him inside of me, throbbing as his seed filled me. A small voice in the back of my head made known her wish for a child and I quickly shushed her. I didn't want any of those thoughts intruding on our sacred world.
Kissing me deeply, he rolled to the side, carrying my body with him. I cuddled against him, feeling secure in his arms as I lowered my head to his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. Despite the fact that I wanted to savor what we had just done, I knew that now was the time to ask him about what had happened.
"I've heard Kerry's version of the events surrounding your decision to come down here. Can I hear yours now?"
John was silent for a few moments, and then he sighed and kissed the top of my head. "It's a long story."
"I don't have anywhere to go, John."
Another sigh from him, then he began to tell me his side of the story.
"Kerry and Mark have been hounding me. Every time I turn around at work, one of them is there, watching me. It's like they're waiting for me to explode or something. I don't understand why, either. I haven't done anything wrong at work. According to the two of them, my performance is excellent. No complaints at all. I'm even in the running for Chief Resident. Kerry is simply letting what goes on at home get in the way of our professional life. I've never done that with her and her problems and I don't understand why she feels the need to be that way with mine."
"Maybe because she's genuinely worried about you. She mentioned that you've been drinking a lot lately."
"I don't allow that to interfere with my job in any way. I buy what I want and bring it home. I could be hanging out in the bars all night. Would she find that preferable?"
"I don't think she finds any of it preferable."
"It's not like she has room to talk. Kerry likes a good stiff drink every now and then," he angrily retorted.
I could feel his muscles tensing and decided to pursue another topic. I would get nowhere fast with him if I got him angry.
"She mentioned that you and Mark had a huge argument when you left."
"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" he lightly kissed the top of my head. "Can we just forget about all of that?"
"Sure. I'll bet you're hungry. How about a late lunch?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Lunch would be great. Do you want to go somewhere?"
"We can eat in, unless you really want to go out."
"I think I'd prefer eating in," he grinned. "That way, we don't have to get dressed."
I playfully smacked his chest, then got out of bed and went to my bedroom for a robe. He had often demonstrated to me that he had no self-consciousness where his body was concerned, parading around our apartments without a stitch of clothing on and not thinking twice about it. Not that I ever complained, mind you. I very much enjoyed watching him move. I just don't care too much for the idea of displaying my own body.
As I made turkey sandwiches, I reflected over both of my conversations with Carter. While he had seemed a little upset during the first one, he had not seemed that way during the second. Just angry. If he was as volatile and unstable as Kerry had suggested, then wouldn't that have been obvious to me? Or had Carter just become so much better at hiding things over the years? Or was there a chemical reason behind his demeanor? I mentally kicked myself for even thinking that about him and I cursed Kerry Weaver for putting that idea into my head in the first place. I pushed those thoughts aside and put the sandwiches on a tray, then got us tea refills.
When I stepped into the guestroom, I nearly dropped the tray. There he sat, naked and proud of it on the edge of the bed, twirling red handcuffs on his finger. I had forgotten all about them. I had given them to John as a joke one Valentine's Day - an anonymous gift. He figured out they were from me though. But, he never said anything about them. He gave them to me when I left Chicago. Chloe had laughed and made many crude comments when she found them as I unpacked. I snatched them from her hand and shoved them into the nearest drawer - which just happened to be in the nightstand of the guestroom.
"Look at what I found," he smiled slowly. "Remember these?"
"I remember them. Lunch is ready."
"I'm not hungry anymore - at least not for lunch. Have you ever been handcuffed to a bed, Susan?"
"No. And I don't want to be." I put the tray on the dresser. "I thought you wanted something to eat."
Again, that slow smile. "Oh, I do."
I refused to even think about that line. Instead, I stuffed a sandwich in his mouth. He needed to eat and I wasn't going to fight him about that. He had to grab the sandwich to keep it from falling into his lap - I had to mentally slap myself before my thoughts took off in that direction.
"Haven't you ever wanted to handcuff someone to a bed? Have him be at your mercy? Make him do whatever you want?"
"Right now, the idea of gagging someone is sounding pretty good to me." He had put the most arousing ideas into my head with his questions. The very thought of him bound to my bed was giving me chills. It was a good thing I was wearing a robe or he might have guessed at my thoughts. As it was, it was becoming obvious that his questions were arousing his own desires. I began to wonder if it was possible for a man to talk himself into an orgasm.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"You have always been able to make me laugh."
"I think that's a good thing, but since I was trying to get you back into bed, it's not what I wanted to hear right now," he pouted.
"Poor baby," I finished my sandwich and tea, then stepped within his reach. He immediately grabbed me around the waist and pulled me closer. "So, just how do you propose that I use these on you?" The handcuffs now dangled from my fingers and I couldn't keep from smiling as I looked into his darkening eyes.
"Any way you want, Susan. I'm all yours."
As I handcuffed him to the bed, I found myself recalling what he had told me when he gave them to me. "Maybe if you use these, you'll finally catch that elusive man you want so much." I was beginning to get a feeling I was finally doing just that.
I have to confess that, even though I'd given him the handcuffs in the first place, I'd never tried bondage before. I didn't think Carter had either, at least I knew he hadn't when I saw his reaction to the cuffs on that Valentine's Day. Maybe it was a good thing we hadn't tried them out back then. Carter was still, really, a boy back in those days, and he'd grown up a lot over the last few years. He no longer squirmed and blushed like a kid, but that change hadn't lessened his appeal at all. Some things about him remained the same, but I realized that there had been a tentativeness back then, and it was missing now. I liked this new confidence a lot.
"I'm not sure I have the key to these now," I told him. "Maybe I won't let you go, after all."
"Maybe I don't want to be let go."
The mood turned from playful to serious with those words. I admitted to myself that I had no intention of letting him go this time. We'd discuss that when the time came, though. In the meantime, I intended to follow Chloe's advice and open the bag of toys she'd given me. There were some interesting things in there, all right...oils, a couple of slim vibrators, even beads, for goodness sake. I hadn't used any of them before - wasn't sure how to use a couple of things -- but maybe it was time I tried something a little kinky.
I wanted to consume him - every inch of him. I wanted to taste every taste, feel all the textures of his skin, memorize him for when I had to be separated from him again. Not for the first time, I realized how different it was between us since he'd arrived. Was it only the letters we'd exchanged - growing closer emotionally over the couple of years since I'd left? It was more than that - we'd both grown, period.
"Susan?"
I realized I'd been lost in thought instead of in action. Time to change that. "Turn over for a second."
"You mean like this?"
"Mmmm. Wait....okay."
"Wha...Oh, Jesus, Susan..."
"Go with it. Relax. You like that, don't you?"
He was speechless, and lay beneath me, gasping, as I followed through on my promises to myself. I felt the shudders course through his body, watched his face...he bit his lip, and I couldn't resist biting it myself. He squeezed his eyes shut, and I kissed his eyelids. His mouth opened to speak, and I claimed it, as I had professed my ownership of the rest of his body.
Eventually, it was over, and we lay together, exhausted, silent. Not an uncomfortable silence, though. He reached over and took my hand. "I've missed you so much," I said.
"Same here. You don't know how many times I wanted to get in my car and drive down here to see you."
"I wish you would have."
"Hmmm." He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Now, how about those sandwiches?"
I grinned. "I ate mine, remember? Although, I think I've worked up quite an appetite."
"I'll share mine with you." He got out of bed and walked to the dresser to fetch the tray. I couldn't keep from smiling as I watched him walk. I always liked watching him walk away from me - he had a really nice butt. Well formed and smooth. Then he walked back to me and I thought about how much I liked watching him doing that.
He placed the tray on the bed and we shared his late lunch, talking about everything and nothing. It felt good to talk to him about trivial matters and not even think about any problems either of us might be having. I knew that before he went back to Chicago we would have to have another serious talk, but for now, the trivial was all I wanted. It seemed to be satisfying for him as well. We lay abed the rest of the day, talking and loving. When night came, we still remained in bed, only we ended up watching old movies on television and loving each other. It was as if we couldn't get enough of each other's bodies. I know I couldn't get enough of him. I didn't want to either. We finally fell asleep in my bed both of us happily exhausted from the loving and looking forward to whatever the next day would bring for us.
It was with great reluctance that I headed into work the next morning. John walked out to the parking lot with me so he could finally get his suitcase from his car. I had already given him my work number if he should need me for anything, so I didn't have any excuse to linger with him by my car. But, I did. The taste of his good bye kisses were too good to rush.
Despite the steady flow of patients, the day seemed to pass far too slowly. When the hands of the clock were finally vertical, I jumped at my chance to get out of there. Praying for a fast commute home, I sped out of the parking garage. Fate or God was on my side, for there were barely any cars on the road at all. For the first time since I had moved there, I made it from the hospital to my place in under thirty minutes. It was an accomplishment to be proud of, and I was even prouder of the fact that I didn't end up getting a ticket for reckless driving in order to succeed in that endeavor.
The apartment was quiet when I walked through the door. I assumed Carter was napping and I went to the guestroom to check on him. He wasn't there. The bed was made though, so if had taken a nap, he had remade the bed. I felt giddy as I thought about all we had done in that bed the day and night before.
"Carter," I called out. "I'm home."
No answer. Maybe he went out for a walk? I looked in the living room and the bedrooms for a note, but came up with nothing. Deciding that he had indeed gone for a long walk, I went to shower. After undressing, I reached down to get a new bottle of shampoo from the cabinet and the trashcan caught my eye. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the two medicine bottles in the trash. With a shaking hand, I pulled each one out. One was an amphetamine, the other a barbiturate. Both bottles were empty and the County General label seemed to jump out at me. I clutched the sink with my free hand as I realized with a sickening dread that Kerry and Mark had been right in their suspicions. Carter was not only taking drugs, but he had stolen them from the hospital.
I shivered and dropped the bottles back into the trash. I had no idea where Carter had gone or if he had taken any of the pills. Hastily pulling on my bathrobe, I headed to the kitchen, thinking I needed to call someone for help, but not knowing who to call. Chloe's husband Joe was a cop. Joe could help me find John. Oh, please God; don't let him be out there somewhere dying. Please don't let him be dead already. My hands were still shaking as I called Chloe's house. The phone kept ringing. Over and over again. Then that damn answering machine kicked in. I screamed into the receiver, begging for Chloe to pick up. To be there. As the beep resounded in my ears, I slammed the receiver down. I would have to find him on my own then. I took a step toward my bedroom when I realized that I was crying too hard to even see where I was going. Then I heard a key in the door and it swung open, letting Carter into the apartment.
He took one look at me and was immediately at my side, holding me close and murmuring reassurances into my ear.
The shock of thinking he had harmed himself combined with the shock of him walking in slammed into each other a half second before they slammed into me. My knees gave out from under me and I sank to the floor. He sank down with me, still holding me.
"Hey, it's all right. Nothing can be that bad."
"I thought you - the pills - God, Carter! Where the Hell were you? Why didn't you leave me a note or something?" I pounded on his chest to emphasis each point.
"Susan, calm down," he held me even tighter, to keep me from hitting him even more I think. "I left you a note. It's on the refrigerator. See?" He pointed to the door and I stupidly looked at the large note.
I felt like such a fool right then. "Sorry," I mumbled.
"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm a little honored that you would get this worked up over me." He actually smiled about that.
"Kerry told me that they thought you were taking pills. Stealing them even."
"She was right. They both were right about a lot of things. Being alone here this morning gave me a lot of time to think about things. I flushed the pills down the toilet. I was stupid to think that I could find happiness through artificial means."
"That explains the amphetamines. Why did you have the barbiturates?"
"Kerry and Mark were right about all of it," he admitted, his eyes sad. "I was coming here to say goodbye to you, just as I went and said goodbye to Chase. But, being with you again, Susan, well, it made me see that my life is far from over. I intend to talk to a therapist once I get back to Chicago, work to learn to accept what happened."
"Good. You have to come to see that it wasn't your fault, Carter. None of it."
"I'll try." His gaze swept down and he smiled, but this smile was smooth and when he looked back up at me, his eyes were bright with interest.
"Not wearing much under that robe, are you?"
I blushed as I realized that in my fit of pique, the robe had gaped open. Before I could reach up to close the gap, his mouth had found it. My skin burned as his tongue traced patterns in the valley between my breasts. Then his mouth found a nipple and his tongue swirled slowly around the tip before engulfing it. I moaned as his tongue flickered over the nipple, teasing me. Then I felt a coolness against my body as he opened my robe, pushing it aside.
He gazed down at me. "You are so beautiful, Susan," he breathed.
"You're not so bad yourself, Carter," I managed to reply before he cut off any further conversation by kissing me. From my mouth to my toes, his lips touched me, anointing me over and over again.
As much as I was enjoying what he was doing to me, I also wanted to touch his body. Taste his skin. Tease him. I gently pushed him away and began to undress him. He wanted to be naked just as much as I wanted him to reach that state and he helped. Soon he was less dressed than me, for I still had my robe.
He lay back upon the floor and pulled me down on top of him. I showered his face and neck with kisses, then ever so slowly lowered myself upon him, relishing his sighs as he found himself embedded deep inside of me. We made love on the kitchen floor, not that either one of us noticed our surroundings. When I was with him, everything around me seemed to fade away until the only thing that mattered was Carter. This time was no exception to that.
I never noticed the transition from the kitchen floor to my bed, but it had been made. I snuggled up against him, feeling whole for the first time in a long while. "He's going to be all right," became a mantra in my mind.
"Marry me," I said.
"Sure," he answered with a grin.
I propped up on my elbow and looked down into his laughing eyes. "I'm serious. I think we should get married. Carter, we are so good together. When we kiss - well, it's as if I've never been kissed before. I see fireworks and feel electricity running through my body."
"That sounds more as if you were just electrocuted."
"I'm serious. Don't you feel anything when we kiss?"
His eyes darkened, "Lord, yes. I feel a million things when we kiss. All of them good. But, you've made it plain that you don't love me in a romantic sense. I've come to accept that."
I shook my head. "You're wrong. I do love you that way. I love you in so many different ways. I want to be your wife, Carter. Marry me."
We regarded each other silently for a few moments, then he grinned again. "Sure, why not?"
I could sense that he thought I was still joking, but I wasn't. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be Mrs. John Truman Carter. I kissed him quickly, then settled back in his arms to think about how a wedding could be quickly accomplished. Chloe and Jim would have to be our witnesses and little Suzi would be my flower girl and ring bearer. A church wedding was out of the picture, unless we drove up to Vegas and hit one of the wedding chapels. I began to rattle off my ideas to Carter, who answered me appropriately. He thought he was humoring me and I grinned to think about the look on his face when he finally realized I was serious and he was in too deep to back out. I had found my man and caught him. There was no way I was going to let him get away this time. I knew that the logistics of a long distance marriage would be tough at first, but I was determined to try. And it wasn't as if I couldn't move back to Chicago. I would find a new job there. It was time to get back to the city of my birth. Time to go home and I could think of no better way to go back than to do it as Carter's wife.
And so, a week later, Chloe, Joe, Suzi, Carter and I took two cars up to Las Vegas. The lights fascinated little Suzi while I was fascinated by the man who would soon be my husband. It was wonderful to watch John with Suzi. He had such patience with her, patiently answering any and all questions she had, giving in to her demands to be picked up and carried around. Neither one of us really minded the fact that our parents weren't going to be there for the wedding. We both knew the kind of trouble and stress that having them around would cause for us. That first night, John and Joe volunteered to watch Suzi while Chloe and I enjoyed ourselves in the casino - a sort of bachelorette party. Chloe and I had a great time - she teased me unmercifully about getting married in the morning and wondering if there was anything left for us to do on our honeymoon. I responded by asking her if she and Joe had run out of things to do and she assured me they had not. When she got around to asking if she should show up for the wedding with a cereal bowl in hand, I wasn't surprised. I almost told her that she had better not even think about doing that, but I stopped myself in time. The one sure way to make sure Chloe did something was to tell her not to do it.
The next morning I woke up to discover it was a beautiful day. But, then, it was Vegas - how could it not be a sunny day? We all went downstairs for a leisurely breakfast, then took a short walk outside. By the time we returned to the hotel, it was time to get ready for the wedding. John was left alone in our room to get ready - well, Joe was sent to help out, not that John needed any help getting dressed. I went to Chloe's room to dress. Chloe and I had picked out a beautiful dress - it was a cream colored silk sheath that stopped just above my knees. The neckline was high, but it dipped low in the back, dangerously low. I knew John would love it as much as I did. When we met up with the guys in the hallway, John made me turn around several times, a big smile on his face.
"I'm a very lucky guy today," he said as Suzi begged to be picked up. He bent over and hoisted her up, looking from me to her. "I get to escort two beautiful women to the chapel."
"You marry Aunt Suzi," my niece said.
"That sounds like an order to me," John said to me. "Are we ready to go?"
"I'm ready. Chloe?"
"I'm ready. I have the license in here and Joe has the rings. We need to stop by the flower shop downstairs for the bouquet," she said.
"Let's go then," Joe led the way to the elevators. As we rode down to the lobby, I took the time to admire my husband. He had somehow managed to find enough money to get a rent a tux and he looked wonderful. Good enough to eat, I told myself. I had ended up paying for the rings, although John vowed that he would pay me back. We had argued about that for half a night, finally coming to a compromise - he would pay for mine and I would pay for his. Then we made up. The making up was a lot more exciting then the fight had been.
The chapel was lovely and the wedding ceremony short. Made me glad I hadn't wasted the money on a big church wedding after all. After the ceremony we went back to our hotel. Chloe and Joe were planning to also stay overnight, but in another hotel so that we would have some privacy. John would be leaving the next day for Chicago, but I didn't want to think too much about that.
We said our good byes to our family, then retreated into our room. I was beginning to feel hungry again, but I didn't want to go back downstairs just to eat. I wanted John to help me get out of my wedding dress. I was just about to ask for his help when we heard a knock on the door. John opened it as I racked my brain trying to figure out why Chloe or Joe was coming back. It wasn't them. It was room service. Chloe and Joe had sent up lunch for us. Not that there was much on the cart that could be considered nutritious. John gave the man a tip, then closed and locked the door before examining the food.
"Whipped cream, strawberries, cherries. Champagne. Is your sister trying to tell us something?" he grinned.
"It looks like it. Do you remember the first time we ever had champagne together?"
"How could I forget it? It was the only time we've ever had champagne together. Let's see, if I remember it correctly, I gave you a demonstration of what not to do to a bottle of champagne." Again, that lopsided grin of his.
As John gave the bottle a good shake, I found myself laughing. "Don't you dare open that in this room."
"I have to open it somewhere, hon. Might as well be here." John popped the cork and champagne went everywhere. He quickly filled two glasses, and after returning the bottle to the ice bucket, he handed a glass to me. "To you, Mrs. Carter."
I held my glass out to him, "To you, Mr. Carter."
We each took a few sips, then I said. "I'm really hungry for those strawberries, but I don't want to risk getting any red stains on my dress."
"Then maybe I should help you get out of it," he said, a serious look in his eyes.
"That would be a good idea," I softly said, turning my back to him so he could reach the zipper.
I heard the sound of the zipper being lowered, felt the dress slip off of my shoulders and puddle around my ankles, heard his rapid breathing in my ear. He was quick to take advantage of the fact that I had not been wearing a bra and I leaned back against him, a heaviness descending in the middle of my body.
"Your skin is like silk," he whispered. "So soft and touchable. I could touch you all day and night and never be bored."
"Thank you. I feel the same about you. But, it appears to me that you are overdressed. Way overdressed."
I helped him correct that problem. We stood in the middle of our room, as close together as it was possible for two humans to get, just holding each other. It struck me as horribly unfairthat our first night together as husband and wife would be our last for a short time. I was determined to get a job in Chicago as quickly as possible so we could be together. I wasn't going to take the risk of losing him to someone else because I wasn't there to keep watch over what was mine.
"Hungry?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.
"A little," I grinned. "Shall I feed you?"
"I was thinking about feeding you." He dipped his finger in the whipped cream, then let me lick it clean for him. "How does it taste?"
"Good. It's sweet, but not overly so. Try this." I dipped a strawberry in the cream and popped it into his mouth.
"Not too bad, but I was expecting the cherry," he quipped.
I playfully smacked his butt. "You'll have to go way back in time to get that."
"I wish I could," he was serious again and he took me by the hands and began to take careful steps backwards toward the bed. Once there, he fell back upon it, carrying me with him.
My hunger for food was quickly replaced by a hunger for him and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he felt the same way. I knew we had the rest of the day and the entire night to love each other, but I suddenly felt frantic to have him - to love him. I never gave him time for foreplay, not that I needed any at that point. I had been ready for him ever since we exchanged our vows.
Our lovemaking was fast and intense and afterwards we gorged ourselves on the champagne and the fruit. Then we headed into the bathroom for a long soak in the whirlpool tub. I made a mental note that when we bought or rented a place of our own in Chicago that a whirlpool tub was a must. That was the first time I had ever made love in one of those and I wondered why I had never tried it before. Of course, it might not have been the same with any other man besides Carter, but with him, it was fantastic.
By the time we finally got to sleep, we were both exhausted. The next morning came way too early though. Knowing he needed to get on the road, I hesitated to linger in bed, but at the same time, I didn't want to let him go. Unbidden tears filled my eyes as he began to dress and he was so tender as he tried to comfort me. We ended up back in bed and he finally left for Chicago two hours later then he had originally planned. It was difficult for me to pack with tears still in my eyes, but I managed. Then I called Chloe and Joe and they came to pick me up so we could return to Phoenix. I was never more thankful for the presence of little Suzi in my life then I was then. Keeping her company in the back seat kept me occupied and prevented me from dwelling too much on the fact that my husband wasn't with me in the car. Even Chloe did all she could to help me keep my mind off of Carter. It's good to have your family around at time of joy, I thought, but imperative to have them around at times of sadness. I thank God everyday for my family, even if they can be a big pain in the butt sometimes. Without Chloe, Joe and Suzi I would have gone mad with loneliness. As it was, the days following my marriage were filled with thoughts of how many hours were left to pass until I could be with Carter once again.
As the months passed, we spoke constantly on the telephone and still wrote letters to each other, but weren't able to find a way to see each other, much to my regret. I was relieved to hear that he was seeing a psychiatrist on a weekly basis and he did find that to be a help as he continued to move past what had happened on that ride along. I had sent my resumes out and was eagerly awaiting the responses. Then I got sick. It seemed like the flu, but it lingered for over a week. I finally gave in to Chloe's prodding and went to see my personal physician. That's when I got a big surprise. I was pregnant with Carter's child. We had faithfully used condoms on our honeymoon, even in the whirlpool tub, so the only time it could have happened was that afternoon I attacked him in the guest room. The doctor assured me that the champagne consumed on my honeymoon had not harmed the baby, a fact that I did know, but still it felt good to hear a confirmation of that from my own physician. When I got home from work that day, I found several envelopes awaiting me - all postmarked from Chicago and all of them responses to my resumes. It was all coming together for me. Soon I would be with Carter in Chicago, gainfully employed and joyously awaiting the birth of my first child. The only obstacle facing me right now was figuring out how to tell Carter that he was going to be a father. This wasn't something to tell a man over the phone. This had to be done in person.