Chapter Four, longer and more fleshed out than the others, cause when the lightning bolt of inspiration hits you run with it, right? The real story is just beginning here, so hang with me. What is past is prologue.
> > >So clear, like the diamond in your ring
Cut to mirror your intention,
Oversized, overwhelmed,
The shine of which has caught my eye,
And rendered me so, isolated, so motivated,
I am, certain now that I am
> > >Doug Ross had never seen his friend so miserable.
Nearly two months had passed since one of his good friends, Susan Lewis, had left him one heart-broken best friend, Mark Greene. The whole ER agreed: they'd never seen Mark so despondent in his life. To Ross it was both a good and bad sign: bad of course that things had ended that way, but good because it showed how much Mark had cared for her. Doug had never liked Mark's wife, but of course "the guy code" prohibited saying so while they were married, and during the first year as a divorcee, Doug had worried that Jen sucked all the life out of his friend. He'd been proved wrong on that count, as he could see Mark drawing closer and closer to Susan. The romantic in him was sure he was going to come waltzing back into the ER that November evening with her wrapped in his arms, that was how certain he was that they were a good match. Jerry & E-Ray had even started up an office pool on it, each taking a square to represent the hour when Dr. Lewis would walk back into the ER, with escalating bets as to whether it was alongside Dr. Greene. But Mark came into work the next afternoon head hung low, not needing to say anything. Nobody won the bet, and E-Ray ordered up vegean burgers and goat-cheese pizza for a staff Thanksgiving dinner with the money.
Now, with Chicago's bitter February cold outside him, Doug was limping back to the admit desk, feeling pretty miserable himself after sending Jad Houston upstairs. He pulled into the desk area and glanced at the clock – 6:45, fifteen minutes to go.
"What've you got Jerry – it better be easy."
Jerry held out a chart, but not so close that Doug could reach it across the desk.
"Earache on a seven-month old."
Doug held out his hand automatically for the chart, but it wasn't placed in his hand. Jerry stood there, glancing mischeviously. Doug just rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming:
"You lovin' me now, aren't ya?", Jerry bellowed.
"I'm not about love, I'm about showing you the money." Doug drawled back. Ever since Jerry Maguire had hit the screens, Jerry the desk clerk had been obsessed with it, and it seemed to Doug that everybody in the ER had the whole film memorized regardless of whether or not they'd seen it themselves. He trudged off with the cane still hampering him, past the Nurses Station where he saw Mark poring over charts.
"I thought you were off proving it was possible to be in three places at once."
"My schedule cleared up suddenly", Mark said flatly, as if he didn't care whether he maintained a social life or not. Then Doug caught Mark raising his hand and snapping a small rubber band clasped on his wrist.
"What's that?" Ross asked.
"Impulse control", came the reply, again completely monotone.
"My shift's over in fifteen minutes, let's do something. We'll stop at the Billy Goat and get a cheeezborger."
Even Doug's best Belushi impersonation failed to illicit a response. Finally Greene flipped his pen down and looked up.
"I was thinking of seeing a movie. I'd invite you to take advantage of that dinner reservation, but I think two guys dining at Cerise might raise some eyebrows."
"Sounds good. Anything worth seeing these days?"
As if on cue, Carter walked passed on the other side of the glass, shouting gleefully back to the desk, "I'm not about love, I'm about showing you the money!"
"He takes way too much pleasure in that", Mark deadpanned.
"He got to take out Benton's appendix, I'm jealous. I'm just hoping Kerry comes down with a really nasty bowel infarction, or maybe a tonsillectomy so I can accidentally remove the vocal.." Doug noticed Greene's gaze had wandered off. "She's behind me, right?"
Doug turned and saw the 5'4" doc with red hair and temperament to match.
"You still have a patient on the board," she said to Ross, with a look that might've burned through his skin with the proper heat dispersal equipment. She took off, and Doug turned back to see Greene doing something he hadn't done in a long time – laughing.
"So, what do we see tonight?" Mark asked between smiles.
They looked at each other and took Carter's appearance as a sign.
"At least we'll know what the hell Jerry's talking about from now on."
> > >Carol Hathaway lay in bed, evening rolling on the windows, with absolutely nothing to do except sleep. But it seemed wrong to be at home – she was supposed to be at work, doing her job, and she deserved to be punished but didn't think it would result in her whole life being dangled in front of her. Just the same, maybe being cornered as a nurse wasn't worth it. Maybe medical school really was the way to go. The test was coming up, she had only a short time to decide if she still wanted in.
So she just lay there, watching the ceiling, when the phone rang.
A sixth-sense seemed to tell her something important was on the line and she snatched the phone before it could get in a second ring. "Hello?"
She nearly dropped the phone when she heard the voice on the other end.
> > >Doug and Mark were riding the train out to Downers Grove. Why the hell are we going to Downers Grove? He wondered if maybe it was some secret cry for help, but figured Mark was his friend and Doug knew as well as anything that love made you do strange things. The train pulled off into the burbs and Doug saw their destination: one of the old Tivoli movie theaters right across the street from the station.
It was the late screening, the last show of the night, and they were the only two in a huge theater. Ross wondered why Greene felt the two of them having dinner at that fancy French place on Michigan Ave. would be weirder than doing this. But he left well enough alone, again remembering "the code".
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Doug finally broke the silence once they were seated and waiting. Mark feigned ignorance.
"What?"
"Two months, you're trying so hard to forget her it's getting a little funny. What the hell were you doing trying to date three women in one night? Where'd my domestic role model go?" Doug was ready to go on, but seemed to realize maybe he'd pushed too much. Mark just blankly looked back at him, and then sighed.
"It just plain sucks, Doug. It's not even so much about us being...you know, as if we were you and Carol. It just sucks that she's gone."
Doug had no answer for that. He'd been expecting Mark to angrily dismiss him, or dodge the subject all together. Instead he was actually talking about his feelings. It was uncharted territory for them. Doug always was open about his – he remembered constantly musing to Mark about Carol back when she was still going with Taglieri, also about Diane Leeds and the constant revolving door of his bedroom. But while Mark often asked for advice on the matters of the human heart, he seldom shared how he felt. That he kept an internal affair.
"Things can still work out", was the best response Doug could muster. Mark smiled but it was drowning with bitterness.
"We haven't talked in two months, whatever was there is gone. I screwed it up." Mark stared at his bowl of popcorn as the lights flashed to signal the beginning of the movie.
"You never know what fate has in store, right?" Doug offered. Mark didn't respond.
> > >"Susan?" Carol practically had to choke the name out of herself, stunned to hear her voice.
On the other end, Susan was very aware at how awkward it must have been for Carol to pick up the phone and hear the vanishing doctor on the line.
"Are you OK? Am I interrupting?"
"No, no" Carol blurted, thoughts beginning to collect. "It's just great to hear from you. How's Phoenix?"
Susan flinched. Tell the truth or just let things be hidden?
"It's OK. The heat can be a real bitch though."
"Yeah, you must really have it awful", Carol shot back with a chuckle. "So what's up? We all miss you back here."
Now Susan was really tentative, she had hoped they could girl talk for a while before ever actually arriving at her reason for calling. She stammered as she attempted to steer the conversation in another direction.
"I just...I miss you guys too. I--", and words failed her. A snap on the phone connection was heard, but Susan was still there. "I wanted to...Carol.."
Carol could feel the question coming a mile away and had no problem skipping to the bottom of the page. "How's Mark?" She said it like she was asking but was also making it very clear that is was what Susan was intent on knowing. A few beats of awkward silence passed and Susan let out a sigh, "Yeah."
Carol cleared her throat and jumped out of bed. "Well" she began as she made for the comfortable rocker in front of her dresser mirror, "for starters, you need to come back."
> > >Mark & Doug were surprised. This had turned out to be a flipping fantastic movie. They'd both practically fallen over laughing during the "Show me the money!" scene, and the whole idea of one man securing vengeance against the evil establishment – mixed in with that most American of pastimes, sports – was distracting them from the very crappy days they'd had.
Greene imagined that he himself was Jerry Maguire, striking out a blow on behalf of the decent in a world of indecency. Doug was of course Tidwell in his alternate universe, flamboyant and unapologetic. It was a no-brainer that Weaver was Bob Sugar. When Chad the Nanny showed up, insistent upon being called a "child technician" to make his job sound twice as complicated, Greene began to wonder if Cameron Crowe had been hanging out with E-Ray and Jerry and that was why the desk clerks loved the movie so much,
Doug was having a good time watching, but could smell trouble. Nobody warned them that this was slowly going to turn into a gushy love-story chick flick. Mark was in a fragile place at the moment, and Doug thought maybe one more sappy, happy ending example of what had been constantly denied him might drive him nuts. The film rolled into a scene where Rod Tidwell was storming off the set of a TV commercial while coolly advising Maguire on his relationship with Dorothy, who was on the verge of leaving town.
Do you love her? Tidwell barked from the screen.
How do I know?
What do you mean how do you know – you know when you know.
Well...I don't want her to go.
Hold right there – that's bullshit - you gotta have "the talk".
If Mark had looked around at the moment, he would've seen Doug shooting a concerned look at him. But Mark was too lost in his thoughts. Like that first time at the Tivoli, where he'd since become a frequent visitor for reasons unknown, other media seemed intent on communicating his thoughts. Was that the reason he'd chased Susan? Had he just wanted her to stay so badly that he'd been willing to do anything to achieve that? Really, she was the only person he completely trusted. Doug was his bosom buddy, but they had wildly differing philosophies on life, love, marriage, work, just about everything they did suggested that they be mortal enemies. Yet, probably because of how different they were, they figured out how to bring out the best. But Mark had always felt like Susan was his confidant – they could talk about anything and everything, laugh at each other's jokes, finish each other's thoughts. So was his mind playing tricks on him – was it simply that he didn't want his best friend to leave, had that fooled him into thinking there was something more?
> > >"...and it just isn't fun, period. Everybody's cranky, on edge, we're all worried we'll tick him off, I've been in the ER since he was a third-year and he's never been this much of a poison to be around."
Carol had been on the phone for nearly an hour and a half. She had painted for Susan the complete, uncompromising, totally brutal picture of what had gone on in her absence.
In Phoenix, Susan was convinced that the real Mark must've been abducted by aliens. But the whole thing made bittersweet sense to her. She had killed their frienship, and he was mad at her but taking it out on them. They had to be it. She suspected during her long train ride that his first instinct would be to seek out a rebound, but Chuni? C'mon Mark, you can do better, she thought. You could have had him, though, her other half reminded her. She wanted so badly to come home, but somehow it just didn't seem possible, especially now that Carol had given her the 411. If that was how he behaved around people with no stake in the situation, how would he respond to seeing her, the person who'd caused all the pain in the first place?
"Things just aren't the same Carol...for anybody involved, I guess."
Carol saw a chance to impart some knowledge she'd discarded during their coffee break on her last day at County.
"He loves you – you do know that, right?"
Susan, still sitting in a dark apartment in Phoneix, choked back a tear while seeming to whisper, "Yes."
Carol and Susan were best friends, maybe not on the level of Mark & Doug, but they could tell when it was time to say something to each other and when to back off. Carol could tell there was a conversation they needed to have, one woman to another.
"And you love him." She said it flatly, absolutely certain that she was right. Susan was finding it harder to choke back the tears but managed to stumble out her reply.
"I've been in love with him for a long time Carol - I was just so sure that it would be better this way, if he didn't feel how I felt, if I could be with people I love...I never wanted to hurt him."
Carol went for the brass ring, thinking maybe she could solve all the world's problems and go to medical school at the same time. Early that day she'd felt totally powerless, stripped of her ability to help people. But now she was giving help to a great friend who really needed it.
"Come back. You still have that chance."
Susan wasn't so certain. She was sure now of her feelings, but that hadn't been enough to make her stay (for some Godforsaken reason), so why would Mark believe it was enough to make her come back?
> > >The ending was upon them, and Mark could barely conceal how badly he was longing for Susan. He was totally immersed now, committed to throwing his empty popcorn bucket at the screen if Jerry Maguire didn't get his wife back. And then came the speech:
Tonight, our little "project", our company, had a very big night. A very, very big night. But it wasn't complete. It wasn't nearly close to being in the same vicinity as complete. Because I couldn't share it with you. I couldn't hear your voice. Or laugh about it with you...I love you. You complete me.
He was crying now, and was very aware of it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried at a movie. Maybe Bambi, but that was different – he was only six and the idea of that deer losing his mother had been very traumatic. But now through the tears he was resolving the issue in his heart – that's how you know. The job at County, Chicago itself, pretty much everybody else except Rachel, he could do without. He felt satisfied without all those things. But not Susan. In the two months Susan had been gone, he'd never felt so adrift and incomplete in his entire life.
The answer was staring him in the face. Bob Dylan was singing over the ending of the film, and another punch flush to his head flew at him, this one from Maguire's spiritual guru Dicky Fox:
I don't have all the answers. In life, to be honest, I've failed as much as I've succeeded. But I love my wife. I love my life. And I wish you my kind of success.
That was it. He had to go out to Phoenix and sort this out for good. Was Susan his soulmate, that one perfect person who could be his wife and his friend and his lover? He didn't know the answers to all of those questions. But he wanted her to be all of those things so incredibly that sitting still wasn't an option. He had to find out. That was when he turned and noticed Doug was gone.
> > >Wandering outside, having talked with Carol forever but resolving very little, still convinced she had burned her bridges, Susan Lewis looked up at the stars. They were brilliant in the Arizona desert, 100 times clearer than any night that might grace the Chicago skyline. She wondered what Greene was doing, whether he was working or sleeping or drinking, wondering if that anger he surely must have held against her might ever rescind. She stood by the lamppost on a night in suburban Phoenix, gazing out into space, thinking maybe the stars might finally tell her what to do. And her every human thought was spent on what Mark Greene was doing.
> > >He was riding the train back into the city was what he was doing. He had a shift at 8 AM, so he'd told Doug, who had gone outside to leave Mark alone with his thoughts, that he was gonna catch a few hours sleep at the hospital. It was after midnight, the train bustling down into the sub-level tracks at Union Station. Bounding off the train and up the steps, he stopped when he reached the deserted plaza. Left, towards the hospital, or right towards the Blue Line? He could feel his life coming to a fork in the road. He turned right and raced the 11 blocks to the station on Dearborn. He was heading north, to the furthest destination the El traveled to – O'Hare International Airport.
To be continued