THE SHOW MUST GO ON
May 2005
Johannesburg, South Africa
Malucci had dropped him off at the airport, an eight year old Joey in the backseat. With his chin resting on the seat back, his body angled forward, the boy had asked rather plaintively, "Uncle Carter, why can't you guys just stay here?"
He didn't have an answer for the kid. Answers were in short supply these days. There was no real understanding of why things were the way that they were — just that instinct was running the show. The chapter of their lives that involved blustery Chicago winds had ended. At least for the moment.
How could anyone understand the change?
He'd bade farewell to both of them, packing away a picture Joey had drawn for Gracie, colorful scribbles that would certainly find their way straight into a showcase on the front of the fridge. Joey had beamed at the thought.
It was the longest flight of his life, mere hours after a rather odd ending to a surprise farewell party, not to mention his last patient at County — a young African-American girl who needed bones re-aligned, a girl he happened to help deliver ten years ago. Odd, but rather fitting. It provided closure.
Not that he was ever certain he wanted to close the book.
A light rain fell over the streets of Johannesburg as he landed at Tambo International Airport. It cast a slight glare in the glow of street lamps, and dampened his hair as he stepped out of a cab in front of their Melville home. Home. Their home. It felt final as he stood in front of it, surveying the split level frame, charming and secluded, the warm yellow-beige paint offset by lush greenery.
He still couldn't talk her into changing that paint job.
"Are you coming inside?"
He'd been staring off into space for a while, although he couldn't be certain of how long. Long enough for Gracie to take notice and poke her head outside. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, to center on her standing just inside the front door, eyes warm, skin aglow. The simple sight of her was enough to ground him. She was his reason why. There was something about this home that gave them an opportunity for a fresh start, to love deeply, to bolster their family.
His feet couldn't move fast enough. He rushed up the front walk, skipped the steps and took her immediately into his arms. She was chuckling, and he was holding her tightly, deeply inhaling her scent. A month had been too long.
And they wouldn't have to experience it again.
"Good flight?" Her voice was muffled against his chest. There was a pause before she drew back, and he kissed both of her eyelids, catching her chin between thumb and forefinger and eliciting a sweet kiss.
"The worst."
Kiss.
"Well, you're home now."
Kiss.
"Come inside."
Kiss.
"You first."
Kiss.
"I'll stay out here all night if I have to, I don't care."
Gracie took a step backwards, luggage forgotten on the front steps as they were seduced indoors by lingering kisses, bluster be damned. Backed up to the armrest of a couch, he towered over her as the backs of her thighs met furniture, fingers tangled in the strands of hair just beyond her ears.
"Josh asleep?"
Kiss.
"He'll be up for a feeding soon."
Kiss.
"Can I do it?"
Kiss.
"I suppose a man with early tenure can do anything."
He broke their neverending kiss, eyes warm and lips curved sheepishly. "Susan told you, huh?"
"Of course." Gracie paused. No matter how much she tried to distance herself from County, she still spoke frequently with Susan Lewis. "I don't quite understand the necessity, though — if they wanted to keep you around, they still had you for the Center."
"Yeah, I wasn't keen on accepting it either."
She stood, forcing himself to shift and step back, eyes lit with affection. "Well. At least I know why they'd want to keep those ties with you." She smoothed her hands down his arms, leaning up on tiptoes and placing a demure kiss on his lips, before stepping away from his embrace. "Glad you're home."
Dragging in forgotten luggage, warming up bottles and answering a two month old's hungry cries never seemed so natural.
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