Chapter 4
The next day, Weaver didn't even step out of the ER. She bustled around, interfering in everyone's cases, and generally being a pain in the ass. The word among the nurses was she hadn't been this bad since she started dating Sandy. Gossip ran rife around the department; had they broken up, what would happen with Legaspi, was she single - the possibilities were endless. Her staff may have had a good day, but Kerry certainly didn't. She left the second her shift was over, for once glad to get away.
Kim's day wasn't much better. She arrived at County after lunch, since Kate had volunteered to do the morning visit. The silent, lonely hours with Christy did nothing for her mood. Shut up in that airless little room, Kim started to feel more prisoner than visitor. There was no escape from her own thoughts - the endless, tormenting questions;
'Why?...
When?...
What should I?...
How could she?...'
In the end, she just had to get out.
Walking out to her car, she raked her hands through her hair, longing for a distraction - anything to take her mind off all this. Quite unexpectedly, her wish was granted. As she unlocked her car, Kim noticed a bit of paper fluttering on the windshield. Expecting a flyer or some other junk, she tore it free. But no, it was hand-written. Kim smoothed it out on the bonnet, now very curious;
Still need cheering up?
Call me
773 842 1155
Rose
'What!?' thought Kim, 'is she stalking me now?'
She stuffed it into her pocket and drove back to Kate's.
Kim entered the dark, unfamiliar appartment. It was stifling hot, as her friend had turned the air con. off before going out. She chucked her bag on the couch and slouched into the kitchen, managing to unearth some elderly pizza in the fridge. With a grateful sigh, she dropped into one of Kate's luxurious leather chairs.
"Come on Kim, snap out if it," she chided, "it's not like you're gonna starve anyway."
Looking at her meal, perhaps starvation would have been preferable. She lay back lazily, picking at the pizza, trying to relax. But peace wouldn't come. Kim felt painfully alone. Perhaps not surprisingly, the beautiful blonde had rarely felt so friendless. Christy was seemingly unreachable, Kate was never home, always living it up with her new girlfriend, and she'd lost touch with her other Chicago contacts. And as for a certain emergency physician...
"What about her?" the psychiatrist asked herself, "why'd you even bring her into this?"
Of course Kim knew full well why. But she was determined to get a grip -
"This is pathetic, Legaspi. A beautiful woman gave you her number. What the hell are you waiting for?"
Before she lost her nerve, she dug out the crumpled note, picked up the phone, and dialled. Her eyes were on the paper, not the keys she was hitting.
This could explain why it took Kim a few seconds to register the number she'd actually dialled. Her fingers, it seemed, had a mind of their own, and had called the one person she had no desire to talk to.
Even so, she held on as it rang and rang, letting out the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding as it became obvious no-one was in. Wait, that wasn't so good -
"Someone else has a date tonight," she muttered bitterly.
Just as Kim moved to hang up, the ansaphone clicked on;
"This is Doctor Kerry Weaver. In an emergency, I can be reached at County General hospital or on my pager, otherwise please leave a message."
She hadn't changed the message! Just hearing it again brought back so many memories. Kim thought back to more than a year ago, when she'd sat for hours at the phone, hearing those few words so many times they lost all meaning.
Summer 2001
Kim sat alone in her front room. She'd sat there all night, unwilling to move, to move on with her life. Sacked by Romano, abandoned by Kerry, everything boiled down to one decision - to stay, or to go. To go back, to go on. There was no easy option. Standing as she did at this crossroads in her life, Kim saw both paths leading through much grief and suffering. But where would they end up?
Throughout that long night, she'd thought of little but Kerry. The good times, and the bad. And there were a lot of good times. Lazy weekends spent in that very room, just talking, or reading the papers; long nights in bed or in front of the fire...learning, teaching, giving, receiving...Yes, the nights had always been good, incredibly so - it was the days that were the problem. Like the day after Kerry had first stayed over, she practically ran out the house. And when Elizabeth walked past in the ER, Kerry had to act like there was nothing going on. Like they meant nothing. Little things, but how they had hurt. Then of course it all fell apart. She just kept running. From the cops asking questions, from Romano and his lies, and finally from Kim, from happiness.
Blinking in the morning light, Kim swiped away her tears. Maybe she couldn't go back, but there was one last thing she had to do. With a shaking hand, she picked up the phone and dialled the well known number.
"This is Doctor Kerry Weaver..."
Just hearing Kerry's voice was enough to start her crying yet again. Kim got a hold on herself, determined to sound calm for the message;
"Kerry, it's me. If you're there, pick up the phone. We - I need to finish this."
Kim waited, but got no response. 'Guess she's gone out,' she thought. But Kim knew that Weaver wasn't working that day, she was off the rest of the week. So she'd called and called, leaving ever more agitated messages;
"Please pick up, Kerry."
"I'm still here."
"I know you can hear this. You're not helping anyone"
"Talk to me, god damn it!"
After three days, Kim couldn't take it any more. She tried one last time.
"OK, Kerry, I give up. I won't call you again. I'm leaving now...Bye."
Snapping back to the present, Kim realised she was still holding the phone.
"Shit!"
She slammed it down.
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
Some minutes later, on the other side of town, Sandy and her partner stumbled up the steps to Kerry's. They'd had a good night, and for both, walking required a little more effort than usual. However, once they were in, the redhead did manage to spot the blinking light on her machine.
"Hold on," she slurred, as Sandy swept her towards the stairs, "I've got a message."
"Who cares," urged the other, "they'll call back."
But Kerry twisted out of her reach,
"Could be important," she pressed the button.
"[You have - one - new message. Message received - today - at - 10 - 47 - PM]"
The stilted computer voice was as annoying as ever.
"Who -?" began Sandy, as Kerry shushed her. The machine was still going;
"[beep!] ... ... ... ..."
A long silence followed, broken only by faint sounds of breathing on the other end. Kerry bent closer, a vague suspicion forming as she listened. Her guess was confirmed as the message ended,
"... ... ... 'Shit!' [end of messages]"
Even from one brief syllable, she would always recognise that voice - Kim!
Kerry was swept back a year, to the last time she'd heard it in this room.
Summer 2001
Weaver lay curled up on the couch as the house darkened around her. She'd retreated there after leaving the hospital in the middle of her shift, and there she'd stayed, lost in a frightening new world, stirring only for trips to the kitchen or bathroom. Even people's concerned phonecalls had made little impression. Carter had called, then Luka, even Randi had given it a try.
No, Kerry had so much on her mind, sometimes she wouldn't even hear the phone. Firstly, she'd lost Kim, she'd failed her. Weaver struggled to believe it, let alone start to forgive herself. Those awful weeks after the Shannon Wallace fiasco, Kerry's few shreds of self esteem only remained because she told herself - she knew - that she'd make it up to her. That she would never let anything come before Kim again.
"Yeah right, Kerry. That worked out."
Kim was right, it was pointless if they didn't fight together.
"We can find a civil-rights attorney," she'd told Kim.
"And what were you gonna do?" Kerry asked herself, "Pay the bill, maybe?"
And when she'd finally stood up for them both -
"Well you didn't, actually," she thought, "you were too fucking late."
But what she said to Romano, that was really why she was hiding.
"I am a lesbian"
Four small words, spoken in haste, but they could never be unsaid. And Kerry cringed to think how much trouble they could cause. She calculated how long before the whole staff knew. Hours? Minutes? That knowledge was what Dr Weaver most feared. More grist for the gossip mills. Another stigma, another weapon against her, something else that made her...different. All her life she'd been different. Kerry Weaver - a short, crippled, red-haired lesbian.
She fell back on the cushions, hiding her eyes. This was just too much to face. Then the phone rang again. She let the machine get it. Half- listening, Kerry jerked upright at the voice she heard - Kim!
But she just couldn't move. Regardless of what Kim had to say, she knew she couldn't take it right then. Talking to her, explaining herself, would mean making some sense out of the utter mess her head was in.
So time passed. Kim didn't give up, she pleaded, she raged, she tried everything to make Kerry talk. A few times, Weaver found herself getting up, walking closer, but every time she reached out, something stopped her. The look of disgust on Robert's face, Malucci's crude talk about 'Dr Legs' - whatever it was, Kerry couldn't do it.
Then that last message.
"I give up...I'm leaving now"
The defeat, the contempt in Kim's voice as she said goodbye, was enough to propel Kerry across the room. She lunged for the phone - but too late.
Weaver slid down to the floor and gave in to her despair. Tears came, and she thought they'd never stop. One thing was on her mind, everything else faded into insignificance. She'd lost her chance. Kim was gone, and she hadn't even said goodbye.
"Kerry! Paging Doctor Weaver!"
Sandy's impatience brought her back to herself.
"What? - Oh, sorry."
She backed away from the machine like it might bite her.
"Who was it?"
"Huh?" she shook her head, struggling to re-focus. "Wrong number I suppose."
The next day, Weaver didn't even step out of the ER. She bustled around, interfering in everyone's cases, and generally being a pain in the ass. The word among the nurses was she hadn't been this bad since she started dating Sandy. Gossip ran rife around the department; had they broken up, what would happen with Legaspi, was she single - the possibilities were endless. Her staff may have had a good day, but Kerry certainly didn't. She left the second her shift was over, for once glad to get away.
Kim's day wasn't much better. She arrived at County after lunch, since Kate had volunteered to do the morning visit. The silent, lonely hours with Christy did nothing for her mood. Shut up in that airless little room, Kim started to feel more prisoner than visitor. There was no escape from her own thoughts - the endless, tormenting questions;
'Why?...
When?...
What should I?...
How could she?...'
In the end, she just had to get out.
Walking out to her car, she raked her hands through her hair, longing for a distraction - anything to take her mind off all this. Quite unexpectedly, her wish was granted. As she unlocked her car, Kim noticed a bit of paper fluttering on the windshield. Expecting a flyer or some other junk, she tore it free. But no, it was hand-written. Kim smoothed it out on the bonnet, now very curious;
Still need cheering up?
Call me
773 842 1155
Rose
'What!?' thought Kim, 'is she stalking me now?'
She stuffed it into her pocket and drove back to Kate's.
Kim entered the dark, unfamiliar appartment. It was stifling hot, as her friend had turned the air con. off before going out. She chucked her bag on the couch and slouched into the kitchen, managing to unearth some elderly pizza in the fridge. With a grateful sigh, she dropped into one of Kate's luxurious leather chairs.
"Come on Kim, snap out if it," she chided, "it's not like you're gonna starve anyway."
Looking at her meal, perhaps starvation would have been preferable. She lay back lazily, picking at the pizza, trying to relax. But peace wouldn't come. Kim felt painfully alone. Perhaps not surprisingly, the beautiful blonde had rarely felt so friendless. Christy was seemingly unreachable, Kate was never home, always living it up with her new girlfriend, and she'd lost touch with her other Chicago contacts. And as for a certain emergency physician...
"What about her?" the psychiatrist asked herself, "why'd you even bring her into this?"
Of course Kim knew full well why. But she was determined to get a grip -
"This is pathetic, Legaspi. A beautiful woman gave you her number. What the hell are you waiting for?"
Before she lost her nerve, she dug out the crumpled note, picked up the phone, and dialled. Her eyes were on the paper, not the keys she was hitting.
This could explain why it took Kim a few seconds to register the number she'd actually dialled. Her fingers, it seemed, had a mind of their own, and had called the one person she had no desire to talk to.
Even so, she held on as it rang and rang, letting out the breath she didn't realise she'd been holding as it became obvious no-one was in. Wait, that wasn't so good -
"Someone else has a date tonight," she muttered bitterly.
Just as Kim moved to hang up, the ansaphone clicked on;
"This is Doctor Kerry Weaver. In an emergency, I can be reached at County General hospital or on my pager, otherwise please leave a message."
She hadn't changed the message! Just hearing it again brought back so many memories. Kim thought back to more than a year ago, when she'd sat for hours at the phone, hearing those few words so many times they lost all meaning.
Summer 2001
Kim sat alone in her front room. She'd sat there all night, unwilling to move, to move on with her life. Sacked by Romano, abandoned by Kerry, everything boiled down to one decision - to stay, or to go. To go back, to go on. There was no easy option. Standing as she did at this crossroads in her life, Kim saw both paths leading through much grief and suffering. But where would they end up?
Throughout that long night, she'd thought of little but Kerry. The good times, and the bad. And there were a lot of good times. Lazy weekends spent in that very room, just talking, or reading the papers; long nights in bed or in front of the fire...learning, teaching, giving, receiving...Yes, the nights had always been good, incredibly so - it was the days that were the problem. Like the day after Kerry had first stayed over, she practically ran out the house. And when Elizabeth walked past in the ER, Kerry had to act like there was nothing going on. Like they meant nothing. Little things, but how they had hurt. Then of course it all fell apart. She just kept running. From the cops asking questions, from Romano and his lies, and finally from Kim, from happiness.
Blinking in the morning light, Kim swiped away her tears. Maybe she couldn't go back, but there was one last thing she had to do. With a shaking hand, she picked up the phone and dialled the well known number.
"This is Doctor Kerry Weaver..."
Just hearing Kerry's voice was enough to start her crying yet again. Kim got a hold on herself, determined to sound calm for the message;
"Kerry, it's me. If you're there, pick up the phone. We - I need to finish this."
Kim waited, but got no response. 'Guess she's gone out,' she thought. But Kim knew that Weaver wasn't working that day, she was off the rest of the week. So she'd called and called, leaving ever more agitated messages;
"Please pick up, Kerry."
"I'm still here."
"I know you can hear this. You're not helping anyone"
"Talk to me, god damn it!"
After three days, Kim couldn't take it any more. She tried one last time.
"OK, Kerry, I give up. I won't call you again. I'm leaving now...Bye."
Snapping back to the present, Kim realised she was still holding the phone.
"Shit!"
She slammed it down.
- -- - -- - -- - -- -
Some minutes later, on the other side of town, Sandy and her partner stumbled up the steps to Kerry's. They'd had a good night, and for both, walking required a little more effort than usual. However, once they were in, the redhead did manage to spot the blinking light on her machine.
"Hold on," she slurred, as Sandy swept her towards the stairs, "I've got a message."
"Who cares," urged the other, "they'll call back."
But Kerry twisted out of her reach,
"Could be important," she pressed the button.
"[You have - one - new message. Message received - today - at - 10 - 47 - PM]"
The stilted computer voice was as annoying as ever.
"Who -?" began Sandy, as Kerry shushed her. The machine was still going;
"[beep!] ... ... ... ..."
A long silence followed, broken only by faint sounds of breathing on the other end. Kerry bent closer, a vague suspicion forming as she listened. Her guess was confirmed as the message ended,
"... ... ... 'Shit!' [end of messages]"
Even from one brief syllable, she would always recognise that voice - Kim!
Kerry was swept back a year, to the last time she'd heard it in this room.
Summer 2001
Weaver lay curled up on the couch as the house darkened around her. She'd retreated there after leaving the hospital in the middle of her shift, and there she'd stayed, lost in a frightening new world, stirring only for trips to the kitchen or bathroom. Even people's concerned phonecalls had made little impression. Carter had called, then Luka, even Randi had given it a try.
No, Kerry had so much on her mind, sometimes she wouldn't even hear the phone. Firstly, she'd lost Kim, she'd failed her. Weaver struggled to believe it, let alone start to forgive herself. Those awful weeks after the Shannon Wallace fiasco, Kerry's few shreds of self esteem only remained because she told herself - she knew - that she'd make it up to her. That she would never let anything come before Kim again.
"Yeah right, Kerry. That worked out."
Kim was right, it was pointless if they didn't fight together.
"We can find a civil-rights attorney," she'd told Kim.
"And what were you gonna do?" Kerry asked herself, "Pay the bill, maybe?"
And when she'd finally stood up for them both -
"Well you didn't, actually," she thought, "you were too fucking late."
But what she said to Romano, that was really why she was hiding.
"I am a lesbian"
Four small words, spoken in haste, but they could never be unsaid. And Kerry cringed to think how much trouble they could cause. She calculated how long before the whole staff knew. Hours? Minutes? That knowledge was what Dr Weaver most feared. More grist for the gossip mills. Another stigma, another weapon against her, something else that made her...different. All her life she'd been different. Kerry Weaver - a short, crippled, red-haired lesbian.
She fell back on the cushions, hiding her eyes. This was just too much to face. Then the phone rang again. She let the machine get it. Half- listening, Kerry jerked upright at the voice she heard - Kim!
But she just couldn't move. Regardless of what Kim had to say, she knew she couldn't take it right then. Talking to her, explaining herself, would mean making some sense out of the utter mess her head was in.
So time passed. Kim didn't give up, she pleaded, she raged, she tried everything to make Kerry talk. A few times, Weaver found herself getting up, walking closer, but every time she reached out, something stopped her. The look of disgust on Robert's face, Malucci's crude talk about 'Dr Legs' - whatever it was, Kerry couldn't do it.
Then that last message.
"I give up...I'm leaving now"
The defeat, the contempt in Kim's voice as she said goodbye, was enough to propel Kerry across the room. She lunged for the phone - but too late.
Weaver slid down to the floor and gave in to her despair. Tears came, and she thought they'd never stop. One thing was on her mind, everything else faded into insignificance. She'd lost her chance. Kim was gone, and she hadn't even said goodbye.
"Kerry! Paging Doctor Weaver!"
Sandy's impatience brought her back to herself.
"What? - Oh, sorry."
She backed away from the machine like it might bite her.
"Who was it?"
"Huh?" she shook her head, struggling to re-focus. "Wrong number I suppose."