Thanks for all the reviews last chapter!

In response to what someone wrote, I forget who: don't get too upset about Romano – I want to do this right, so it takes longer, but they'll get there.  The story itself has only a few more chapters.  (At least I hope so.  I feel like Grady Tripp: the end keeps receding the more I write.) 

Chapter 15. Isabelle

"Dr. Corday?" the desk clerk called as Elizabeth came out of surgery with Romano.  "Your mother called.  Three times."

His expression confirmed that Isabel had been her usual self on the phone.  Elizabeth sighed and said, "I'll call her from my office."

"Tell your mom I said hello," Romano smirked as he peeled off towards his office.

"She'll be happy to hear that," Elizabeth said sarcastically.

The desk clerk added, "She said to call her at your house."

Elizabeth knew what that meant.  "Bollocks."

The voice that answered was Mark's, although covered in a thin layer of uncharacteristic irritation.  "Yeah?"

"Mark, it's me.  Is my mother--?"

"Oh yes, she is," he enunciated with a sigh.  "She decided to surprise us for Ella's birthday this week."

Elizabeth winced.  "I haven't told her about all of this – us – yet."

"I figured that."

"I'm so sorry."

"Me too," he complained.

"I'll be right there.  I'm off now, so—"

"Please, just get here," he said.  "She's a little confused about why Susan was at our house."

"Susan's there?"

"She left.  Quickly.  And now it's just me and Rachel and Ella and your mother."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" she said, and registered a brief hint of amusement at his plight before dashing out to catch a train home.

Isabelle was waiting in the family room, drinking tea with Mark, when Elizabeth came in.  The door had been open.  "Hello?" she said cautiously, and followed her mother's voice to the family room.

"Elizabeth," Isabelle said, raising her eyebrows.

"Mom."

Mark stood with clear relief on his face.  "Hey, Elizabeth," he said.

Passing her on his way to the staircase, he kissed her cheek.  "Good luck," he whispered amusedly.

"Shut up," she answered just as quietly.

When he'd gone she sat on the couch.

Isabelle leaned back, looking ready to hear what she must already have figured out.  "I thought I'd book a hotel room for a few days and surprise you and Mark for Ella's birthday," she said pointedly.

"Yeah… I heard," Elizabeth said absently.

"Looks like you were really surprised," she noted.

"Well…"

"What's going on?"

Elizabeth sighed.

"You're not living here anymore."  Her voice was flat and accusatory at the same time.

"No, I'm not.  I moved – well – I've been staying in a hotel.  I just moved into a new flat."

Isabelle shook her head.  "I shouldn't be surprised, but I am.  But, I'll wager my life it's not his fault."

"It's not about faults, Mom," she said, a conclusion she'd reached intellectually long ago but still felt in the pit of her stomach as a lie.  (It must be someone's fault.)  "You of all people should know the blame is sometimes equally shared."

"I hope you're not referring to my marriage with your father, because in that case I think he was completely-"

"Oh, never mind," Elizabeth said rather bad-temperedly.

Isabelle nodded, then shook her head, and then blew out a breath, as if she couldn't decide what to say.  "Well!  I'm sorry this didn't work out."

"Me too, in a way."  She paused.  "But it's where we've been headed all along."

"I never saw it that way."  Isabelle spoke as if she were the last authority and Elizabeth must have made a mistake.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd assume it was my fault.  And I was right."

"Your father knows?"

Silence, she knew, was admission.  Her mother grew coolly angry, jealous that Elizabeth still trusted her father more.  "He has a new girl already," she said, as if to return the insult.  "A blonde."

Elizabeth laughed outright, startling her mother.  "You mean Susan Lewis.  I know.  I all but gave them my blessing."

"That was awfully nice of you."

"He's dying."

"For real this time?"

"Yes, for real this time.  For heavens' sake."

Isabelle clucked her tongue, looking sad, and didn't speak for a long time.

~

Well, there was one thing that would never change, Mark thought as he entered Doc Magoo's, looking for Susan – the smell of this place, dirty, greasy, comforting.

Susan turned from a corner table and her smile was bright despite having worked all night and having another shift to work today.  She'd called this morning: "Hey, I missed you last night…"  They'd arranged to get breakfast here.

Mark slid in across from her and said, "You could've come over last night."

"I wasn't sure who would be there," she said.  "Where is Elizabeth's mom staying?"

"She booked a hotel already," Mark said.  "Elizabeth's dealing with her."

"Lucky her," Susan grinned.

They each ordered pancakes, and Susan asked for a latte.  "With an extra shot," she added.

"Starting early, aren't you?"

"I could drink you under the table any day."

"Make that two lattes," Mark told the waiter.

"I heard them talking," he added when the waiter had gone.  "She's got it in her head that everything is Elizabeth's fault.  I don't know what it is about women and their mothers –"

"Oh, Mark," Susan said.  "That's ridiculous.  Fathers and sons are the same way."

"You got me there."

"Men," she grumbled, but she was smiling.  Then her eyes lit up as she looked first at a reflection in the window, and then twisted in her seat to look surreptitiously behind her.  "Well well well, look who's getting breakfast together," she murmured, motioning to the doorway.

He looked past her shoulder.  Just arriving were Luka Kovac and Abby Lockhart.  When the latter noticed Mark her mouth fell open for a second, and then she pulled herself together and waved tentatively.

Mark motioned for them to sit down, and after sharing a questioning look Luka and Abby headed towards them, Luka with his head ducked in a slightly embarrassed manner.

"Hey guys," Susan said, moving over so Abby could sit next to her.  Luka settled in next to Mark.

They all greeted each other tentatively, and Susan said, her eyes dancing with her typical friendly curiosity, "So what have you guys been up to?"

"I was helping her move back into her apartment," Luka said somewhat gruffly.

Abby drew circles on the tabletop with her fingers, avoiding Susan's raised eyebrows.  At first Mark wasn't sure what she was so uncomfortable for, until he remembered that whole drama between Carter and Luka that Susan had told him about.  For some reason Susan found the entire thing entertaining, like a soap opera for her own viewing pleasure.

Clearly, Abby felt somewhat less humorous about it.  "Have you guys ordered already?" she said dourly.

"Yeah."  Susan motioned to their waiter.  "I actually need to go check my messages – I'll be right back."  She edged out past Abby, and went outside to use her cell phone.

Left alone after Abby and Luka had ordered, Mark tried to make normal conversation.  "So that guy is gone from your apartment building?"

Abby laughed sharply.  "Let's hope so."

Wrong topic.  Mark felt rather gauche and looked to Luka, who was, as usual, broodingly silent.  Finally Abby said, "How's everything, Mark?  You haven't kept in touch."

"I know," he said.  "I'm working things out right now."

"Hanging out at Doc's, huh?"

"Susan had a breakfast break.  Believe me, I don't normally come here of my own free will.  It's a bit nostalgic now, though."

"Nostalgic?"

"I actually miss working here, if you can believe it."

Abby tried to laugh.  "I can't."

"Me either," Luka added suddenly, with a charming smile.  Mark didn't know the guy very well, but he seemed decent. 

The door opened and Susan rushed back in, her face blanched.  "Mark," she said in an urgent whisper, "I need you for a sec."  To Luka and Abby, "Sorry."

Her hand frantically grasped his arm as they moved away from the table.  Susan was almost in tears.  "I had a message from Suzie," she whispered hurriedly, "she says she needs help and I don't know where she is and they're in a hotel somewhere but –"

"Suzie, little Suzie?"

"Yeah, she's with Chloe…"  Susan pressed her hand to her temple.  "Oh my God.  Oh my God Mark, she could be anywhere, my sister could've left her somewhere –"  She broke off.  "I have to go to the police."

"Want me to come?"

Susan shook her head, but then said softly, "Yeah."

They went to the police station together, and Mark waited while Susan was ignored by a dozen people, and while she decided to book a flight to New York.

"I'll come with you," he said.

"No, no," she said.  "Your daughter's birthday is tomorrow."

"I'll fly out there after that," he promised her.  "If you're still in New York, I'll be there day after tomorrow."

Without agreeing to that, Susan bit her lip and leaned her forehead against his chest for a second, and he stroked her hair.  "If I don't find her within twelve hours, the chances drop, like, exponentially."

He hugged her slowly.  "You'll find her."

When he dropped her off at the airport she finally gave in and asked him: "I'll see you then?"

"Yeah.  You'll see me soon."  He kissed her gently.

He made the promise knowing it was no longer in his power whether or not he'd be able to keep it.

~

The sound Elizabeth made when she entered the surgical lounge, interrupting Romano as he chatted with some fresh-faced med student over vending-machine sandwiches, closely resembled a snarl.

Romano regarded her with amusement and told the kid sitting next to him, "Don't feed the British bears – they bite."

She bit her lip, embarrassed.  "I'm Dr. Corday.  You are?"

"Uh – um – Victor.  Victor Brennan.  Nice to meet you."  He was stuttering.

"You can go, Vic.  Can I call you Vic?  Good," Romano said, quite composed.

The student stumbled away, and Elizabeth sat down next to Romano.  "Have you been scaring the new student?"

"No, no, I would never do that.  He's a promising kid, actually.  Just can't get a sentence out without an "um."  I think I'll let you be in charge of him."

"How nice of you."

"So, what's with the growling?  You're the one who made him scared."

"My mother," Elizabeth complained.  "I took her to lunch.  She wanted to see my place."

"The new apartment!  You're definitely staying in America then?"

"County is addictive," she said. 

"If you're a glutton for punishment," he said pensively.  "So you've moved in and everything?"

"Yes," she said.  "It's not bad.  At least, I don't think so."

"What does she think?"

"Oh, it's too small for my salary, the neighborhood is too messy for the rent I'm paying, no American flat can really measure up to any British one…  Basically I should have stayed at that 'lovely' house I had with Mark, I never appreciate what I already have, whatever that means, and I shouldn't have driven him away, because of course it's my fault."

Robert's brow furrowed.  He pursed his mouth, considered this rant for a few seconds, and said, "I'm guessing you're looking for a target of rage, so I won't comment and open myself to any risk."

"You're such an ass," she said.

"I know.  Here," and he shoved the uneaten half of his sandwich towards her, pulling an innocent face.  "Have a plastic-wrapped tasteless egg sandwich."

Elizabeth gave him a look, half-smiling.  "I don't want an egg sandwich.  I already had lunch with my mother.  (Although of course she didn't think it was a proper meal.  'American meals never are')."

A pause.  He hid his mouth with one hand.

"You're laughing at me," she said.

"Well, sympathy's not really my forte."

"Oh, it isn't?" she said sarcastically.

"You know, people are like cheese.  They get sharper as they get older."

"People. are. like… cheese?"

"Well, whatever," he said, brushing off his odd metaphor.  "You know what I mean, they get more interesting.  Your mother's really not that bad.  I always thought she was a kind of fun old lady.  Believe me, it could be worse."

Elizabeth fell silent.

"Speaking of which –"  He stood up.  "I had an afternoon date at a nursing home."

"Send her my best wishes," Elizabeth said.

"Yeah," he said, his face expressing all the sarcastic answers he managed to resist making.  Not like she can hear them.