DISCLAIMER: yada, yada, yada...this is getting reaaally old. It's in my story. Find it if the desire is overpowering. Who can resist a good disclaimer, right?
By the way, for the purpose of the plot of this fic, a couple of people who have died were risen from the dead. Millicent Carter, John Carter's grandmother, and Robert Romano never died, and Chuny is still on staff, I don't quite remember which of the nurses are in season 10 (the current season) who were around in season 6. As a result, I am making people up and occasionally bringing people back. Please bear with me, this is my first fic, after all.
SAVING GRACE—CHAPTER 10
"Hey, Carter, is Kerry around?" Lydia called as he came out of Exam 4 at noon a few days later. The ER was bustling with patients, even though it was a Saturday afternoon. The temperature had begun to drop, though it was only September, and a cold rain was falling.
Over the past couple of days, he had gone through the motions rather uneventfully. He had gone to work at the usual odd hours, taken on the usual traumas and complaining patients who seldom had anything wrong with them. Every so often, when he was off or on break, he would go to visit Grace on the fifth floor.
The child had made amazing progress in the past few days. Though still healing, she could sit up on her own. Her muscles were healing. She had begun to become quite the talker, turning from a quiet, scared little girl into a garrulous chatterbox. She liked to talk to Carter about home. He had learned quite a lot from her in the last few days.
Carter had found out that she loved animals, especially the fish and the penguins at the zoo. Grace loved to read, and she read everything that her reading level allowed for. She didn't have the best handwriting, but she tried nonetheless. She loved to be around people, as long as she knew them. She had taken a liking to Carter, and seemed to feel most comfortable around him.
Carter made his way through a swarm of patients and over to the Admitting Desk where Lydia stood, telephone in hand.
"No, I don't think she's on today," he told her, placing a patient chart among others in the discharge pile. He shifted through the stack of clipboards of patients waiting to be treated. Lydia sighed, annoyed.
"Okay," she said. She put the phone back up to her ear. "No, I'm sorry, Dr. Weaver is off--" her voice drifted into the background as Carter tuned out her voice. He picked out the clipboard of a young woman complaining of abdominal pains off of the top of the stack. He looked up and out of the corner of his eye he saw Lydia frowning at him.
"What?" he asked. Lydia held a finger to her lips and continued to speak into the phone.
"Yes, yes.....of course....just a moment," she covered the mouthpiece of the telephone with her hand. "Someone wants to speak to you about a patient," she said, holding out the phone to Carter.
"Who is it?"
"Some guy from the Summit County Children's Services board, something about a transfer. Anyway, whatever it is, he wanted to speak to you or Dr. Weaver," Lydia said. Carter hesitated for a moment.
"Okay, let me talk to him," he said, Lydia handing him the phone. He held it to his ear and took a short breath. "This is Dr. Carter."
"Yes, Dr. Carter, my name is Harold Kasdan from the Summit County Children's Services."
"I understand that you wished to speak with me about a patient of mine," Carter said, wishing that this man, Mr. Kasdan, would cut to the chase.
"Yes, Grace Knight."
"Yes." There was a short pause on the other end of the line.
"Well, let me explain my situation. Miss Knight is a ward of the state, and has been ever since her grandmother died in July."
"I understand."
"Because she is a ward of the state of Ohio, and her current foster family lives in the state, my colleagues and myselfl feel that it would be best for the child if she were transferred back to an Ohio children's hospital, where her foster parents and the SCCS can keep an eye on her."
Carter let the words ring in his ears for a moment. They wanted to take her back to Ohio? The poor girl wasn't ready to go back; she didn't want to go back. Carter didn't want her to go back, for more than one reason.
"Well, are you-- are you sure that that's a good idea?" he stammered slightly. He rubbed his upper lip with his sleeve.
"What do you mean to say, Doctor?" Came the gruff voice on the other end questioningly. Carter gathered his words.
"Um, I think that it would be better if Grace, Miss Knight, stays with us until she has recovered and is well for the trip back there," he said. He leaned his back against the counter of the Admitting Desk.
"Why do you say that?"
"I am her doctor here, and I know in more detail than anyone there what she has been through, and the doctors here at County know exactly what treatments she needs." He knew that the answer sounded lame as soon as the words left his lips.
"We would have her charts transferred, that wouldn't be a problem."
"Yes, but Miss Knight has expressed interest in remaining here in Chicago until her care is complete," Carter said, his voice becoming more tense. He hoped that the SCCS representative on the other line wouldn't be able to detect it. There was a pause on the other line.
"And you feel that the child, a five-year-old girl, could know what the best course of action is in this situation?"
"In this case, yes. I share in her opinion, and I think that this is the best decision for the time being," Carter said into the mouthpiece, his voice growing a little bit louder.
"You okay, Carter?" Susan asked him, stopping her work with a patient chart when she overheard his conversation. Carter held up a hand, signifying that he was fine. Susan shrugged. "Okay, then. Have it your way," she said. Carter rolled his eyes.
"And do your colleagues at the hospital agree with your decision?"
"Yes!" Carter exclaimed. "I don't believe that it is in the child's best interest to be transferred to another hospital until her course of treatment here has been completed."
"Are her injuries really that serious, that she needs to remain there for medical care?"
"She sustained some edemic swelling of the cranium, a severe splenic fracture, contusions on the forehead and lateral aspects of her arms and legs, and oblique open fracture of the tibia." Carter attempted to use medical jargon to mess with the man's mind. It seemed to work. There was a short pause on the other end.
"Okay, Doctor, okay. She can stay until she recovers enough to be brought back."
"I'm glad we agree then."
"So I'll send a representative over there to pick Miss Knight up when she recuperates," Mr. Kasdan resolved. Carter felt himself nodding, though he knew perfectly well that the man on the other end couldn't see the gesture.
"That sounds good." he told Mr. Kasdan. There was a short pause. Then Carter remembered something. "Could I ask you another question?"
"Go ahead."
"Have you been able to locate the child's father?" Mr. Kasdan cleared his throat on the other end.
"No, we can't even get a name." Carter crossed his left arm over his chest.
"So nobody knows who the father of this child is?"
"Nobody except the mother and the grandmother, who are both deceased."
"What about a birth certificate? Hospital records?"
"We don't have access to those at this time." Carter's brow contracted in disbelief.
"But if you are the child's legal guardian, or whatever, then don't you have access to this stuff?"
"Technically, no, all of those things are with her great-grandfather."
"Great-grandfather?" Grace had never mentioned other grandparents. "Well, if she has another living relative, then shouldn't she be in her custody?"
"No," Mr. Kasdan said firmly. "This Ruth Knight cannot even take care of herself, let alone a small child. She has been in a nursing home for the last six years. Although she is in this condition, she still is the last remaining relative, and until she dies, she has possession over all of those assets, like the medical records."
"And you can't get to them?"
"I'm afraid not. We have to have a court order to enter the house. Until then, we have to leave everything alone." Carter sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.
"So there's nothing that you can do? Nothing?"
"Well, Miss Barbara Knight had a few things that we have in our possession- " There was a break in his voice.
"What?" Carter asked, in case the guy had had a heart attack or something. Listening carefully, he heard muffled voices as Mr. Kasdan conversed with another person in the background. Aftter a moment, Carter heard him clear his throat quickly.
"I'm sorry," Mr. Kasdan said gruffly, coming back on the line. "Could you state your name again, please?"
"John Carter."
"John Truman Carter?" Carter snorted.
"Yeah," he said, "that's my name. How many John Truman Carter's can you get?" He laughed softly. It certainly wasn't a common middle name.
"And you had a relationship with Miss Barbara Knight?"
"If you could call it that. I spoke with her a few times. That's all," Carter said, growing slightly more confused with each passing minute,
"Okay. The reason I ask is that I have a few things here that Miss Knight left to you in her will when she died. One of them, a thick envelope, has your name on it, but we weren't sure because your grandfather's name is the same as yours, correct?" Hearing this, Carter felt a strange feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He had barely even known Lucy's mother, yet she willed a few things to him. They were probably just trinkets, maybe a photo of Lucy or something. He swallowed.
"Yes,, that's right. My grandfather never knew Barbara Knight, though."
"Right, right. I can send this to you right away. You should have had this stuff two months ago."
"So she left me something more than what was in the envelope?" Carter asked, bewildered.
"Yes, there's a box for you somewhere."
"And if you can't mail it, then how will I get it?"
"I'll send it with the representative who goes over there to Chicago to pick up the young Miss Knight from the hospital when she has recovered."
"Okay," Carter said, nodding. "That sounds fine."
"Hey Carter," Susan put her hand on his shoulder, as if to shake him back to reality. "We've got a trauma coming in. MVA, one major, two minors, ETA five minutes." Carter nodded at her.
"Okay, well," Carter said, steadying himself. "I have to go, there's a trauma coming in and I need to be there. Could you just mail that envelope to me?"
"Yeah, sure, no problem. Thanks for taking time to talk to me."
"Likewise. No doubt I'll speak to you again soon anyways," Carter said into the mouthpiece as he hung up the phone. He stood for a moment, staring absentmindedly at the telephone. He turned and leaned against the counter of Admit, letting out a breath, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
This was very strange, no denying it. Barbara Knight had left him something in her will? He barely knew her. He guessed, though, that she felt a special bond to him. He had been Barbara's closest link to her daughter, after all. Lucy had talked about him, she had said. What she had talked about, though, Carter would never know.
"Hey, Carter, you okay?" asked Susan, jolting him back into reality.
"Huh?" he said, taking his hands out of his pockets. "Oh, yeah, Susan, I'm fine."
"You sure?" she asked him skeptically, raising her eyebrows. "You look out of it."
"No, no, I'm good. Where's this trauma?" Susan sighed lightly.
"The major was DOA at the scene, the minors are coming, though."
"Okay," Carter said, noticing lights out in the ambulance bay. "That's our cue." The two of them, accompanied by three or four nurses, went out to meet the ambulances.
"Dr. Weaver, SCCS called while you were off," Carter called as Kerry walked through the entrance to the Emergency Room. Kerry walked up to the Admit Desk to sign herself in, ready to begin her shift.
"Really? Did one of the desk clerks get a call-back number for me?" she asked as Carter turned in a patient chart of a woman with gastroenteritis that he had discharged.
"Um, that wasn't necessary." At this, Kerry's head snapped around.
"What do you mean, it wasn't necessary?" she demanded, beginning to make her way back to the lounge.
"Well," he said, following her. "They spoke to me."
"So why did they call?"
"They thought that it would be best if they had the child transferred back to a children's hospital in Cleveland."
"What?" Kerry asked, shocked. "Why would they want to transfer her?"
"Because, legally, she is in their custody, and they want to be able to get to her if they need to." Kerry opened her locker and grabbed her white coat, stuffing her fall jacket into the locker. She crossed the room and sank into the sofa.
"What did you tell them?" she asked anxiously. Carter pulled up one of the chairs from the table and sat in it, backwards, facing his colleague.
"I told them that it was not in the child's best interest," he said. "He made a short argument."
"But you won, right?" Kerry asked. "That's just stupid, you can't pull her out in the middle of her treatment!" she exclaimed.
"No worries, I pulled some medical jargon on him, making her condition seem worse than it actually is, and he backed off." he said. Kerry's eyes widened slightly, a shadow of a smile on her lips.
"You didn't," she said. Carter nodded.
"I did."
"What did you tell him?" Carter grinned.
"I simply explained that she has a splenic fracture, contusions on the forehead and lateral aspects of her arms and legs, oblique fracture of the tibia, et cetera," he told her. Kerry laughed softly.
"And he bought that?"
"He did. The hook was baited, and the fish bit." Kerry shook her head.
"How long have you been on?"
"Since six this morning." Kerry rose from the sofa and walked out to the door of the Lounge. "I'm off right now," he finished as the clock hit 6:00 pm.
"All right, all right, go," Kerry said as she left the room. Carter spun the combination to his locker, and took off his white coat and pulled out his jacket. As he shut the door to the locker, Kerry stuck her head back into the room.
"What?" Carter asked.
"Have they found her family yet?" Carter shook his head.
"No, they haven't." Kerry shook her head.
"I know I shouldn't get too emotionally attached to this girl," she began. Carter cut her off.
"Kerry, I think that we are all emotional about this one," he said. Kerry paused for a moment, taking in his words. She looked down at the floor, then back up. She nodded her head.
"I suppose you're right. It's too late to avoid emotions now."
"It was too late for that when we found out that she is Lucy's child," Carter said gently. He was only guessing for Kerry's position, but he knew that that was true of himself.
"Yes," Kerry said. "I don't know why, but I feel particularly compelled to see that she is happy." Carter nodded in agreement.
"I do, too," he said. "I still feel partly responsible for Lucy's death."
"I wish that I could have found the two of you sooner," Kerry agreed.
"It wasn't--" Carter began. He was cut off by one of the nurses calling to Kerry.
"Dr. Weaver, I've got a kid with an asthma attack who's not responding to the nebs," she called, her voice sounding distant to Carter.
"Okay," Kerry called back. She gave Carter a sympathetic look. "Go, you're off, go home." Carter watched her turn and use her crutch to push open the doorway of the lounge, walking out into the busy Emergency Room.
But Carter wasn't going to go home. Not yet, anyway. He wanted to go visit the young Miss Knight in her room. He had grown quite fond of the little girl in the last few days, and she always seemed to look forward to his visits.
It was strange, he thought, as he pushed the up button on the elevator, waiting for it to arrive. Carter noticed every day that Grace was a lot like Lucy. Her physical features were nearly identical: her smile, her laugh, her sparkling sea-blue eyes, her hair. But Grace also had a few of Lucy's personality traits, some of which Carter had had noticed over the time visiting her in the last four days.
Carter stepped into the elevator and jammed his finger into the button that would take him to the fifth floor. He leaned back against the elevator wall and let out a long breath. Grace was very stubborn, and when she had set her mind on something, she would follow through with it. Though still too weak to sit up on her own, she had been adamant about getting out of her room, and Holly had promised that she could get into a wheelchair tomorrow to get around.
Grace was also very good working with people, just as Lucy had been. She had quickly befriended her roommate, Amanda, and she comforted the girl when her parents had to leave, distracting her by asking the nurse to move their beds together so that they could play a game. Carter smiled inwardly as he got off of the elevator and walked down the hall.
"Good evening, Dr. Carter, come to check up on your patient?" A nurse with short, light-brown hair asked him. Carter returned her smile.
"Of course, Margaret," he said.
"Be my guest, she's probably up and waiting for you."
"Thank you," Carter said. He had gotten to know most of the staff of the Pedes ward by now, and Margaret Duffy was a particularly kind nurse. She had been around at the time that Lucy was killed, and knew what Grace meant to the hospital staff, particularly those in the ER who knew Lucy best.
Carter made his way back down the now-familiar corridor to the room where Grace was staying. He looked through the glass window into the room before he entered to see Grace smiling, the curtain between her bed and Amanda's opened. Both girls seemed to be harboring a supply of crayons and paper, scribbling away. Carter turned the knob of the door and pushed it open. Grace's head turned toward him.
"Hi!" she said excitedly. She was making a progressive recovery, and had a very positive attitude about making the most of her hospital stay. Carter noticed now, past her friendly smile, that Grace's hair had been braided into two French-braids that hung an inch or two past her shoulders and were tied with blue ribbons. She was dressed, as usual, in her pink hospital gown.
"Hello, Grace," Carter said, crossing to the foot of her bed and looking at her chart. As usual, her vitals were normal, and there was no sign in her blood that she was ill, except for the IV fluids, antibiotics, and painkillers that she was still on.
"Are you off work?" she asked. "Or are you just taking a break?"
"I'm off, so I can stay with you longer tonight," he said, making Grace smile a small smile. He pulled up a chair to her bedside and began to sit down. "I like your hairstyle," he said.
"Thank you," she said. "I had a bath today, Holly helped me. I like my hair too, I wish that I could do the braid on my own."
"Who did it? It looks very nice," Carter told her, sitting down next to her bedside.
"Dr. Corday did them. She's good, isn't she?" Carter froze. Elizabeth had been in to see Grace? He thought that she didn't want to see her; she had, after all, nearly run out of the room the first time that she saw the child.
"Dr. Corday came to see you?"
"Yes, she's the one that opened my belly and fixed my spleen," the child said. Carter nodded, still in a mild shock.
"When did she visit you?"
"Earlier today, about 10:00 this morning. She's very nice, and she offered to braid my hair for me. She says that she has a daughter who's my age. Her name is Ella," Grace said very fast, talking excitedly. "She said maybe I could meet her sometime. I like meeting new people."
"I'll bet. Have you been getting a lot of new visitors?" Grace furrowed her brow, thinking for a moment.
"Yes," she said slowly. "A lot of people have come to see me. I don't remember all of them, but I remember a couple of people."
"Which ones?" Carter asked her, curious now.
"I remember Dr. Kovac the best," she giggled. "He's nice, and he wanted me to call him Luka. I like his accent. Umm...a few people from the surgery part of the hospital came, but I don't remember many of them. Nurse Lockhart came, and she said to call her Abby, and another nurse, her name is Chuny, she came to visit. I remember Dr. Romano too. He's a funny person, and he says his nickname is Rocket. He has a fake arm!" she exclaimed excitedly. Carter was flabbergasted. Had the entire hospital come to visit her?
"Wow, that is a lot of visitors." Grace nodded, pigtails bouncing up and down.
"Some of the ones that came said that I looked like my mother. Did everyone here know her?"
"Yes," Carter said slowly. "Yes, they knew her. Some of them didn't know her, probably, but they have heard of her." Grace's eyes grew wide.
"Wow," she said. "How did they know her?"
"Lucy--your mom--used to work here," Carter explained.
"She wasn't a doctor, though," Grace said. "Grandma told me that she was working to be a doctor, but she died before she finished school." She looked at Carter for confirmation of this information. He nodded. He really wanted to get off of the topic. He wasn't sure if Grace knew about the stabbing or anything, but he didn't want to discuss it.
"That's right," he said. He noticed a piece of drawing paper on the table in front of Grace, colorfully scribbled on with crayons. "I like your picture," he changed the subject.
"Thank you. It's not very good, but I tried." The drawing depicted a stick man and woman wearing shorts and a skirt, respectively. There were three smaller figures next to the two, presumably children; there were two boys and a girl, by the way that they were dressed. The five people stood inside of the walls of a brown house, with a tree drawn outside of the house.
"Will you tell me about it?" Carter asked. Grace nodded, and took it off of the table, holding it so that he could see properly.
"This is Mr. and Mrs. Thompson," she said, pointing to the two taller figures.
"Are they your neighbors?" Carter asked. Grace shook her head.
"No," she said. "They are my foster parents."
"Are those the other kids living in the house?" he asked. Grace nodded, pointing to each one in turn.
"This is Iris," she said, indicating the girl with brown hair and a purple skirt. "Her full name is Iris Christine Bercot. She's really cool, she's 11, and she liked me. She played with me when the boys wouldn't. We shared a room at the foster house."
"It's good that she was nice to you," Carter said.
"I'm glad, she was my friend. She's a lot older than me, and she knows a lot. She doesn't like to talk about her parents, though. I think I overheard Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, and Iris' mom killed herself, and she was taken away from her dad." She moved on to the next stick drawing, a boy with blonde hair that stuck up, and glasses. "This is Brian Moore. He's eight, and he's rough. He is angry a lot, and he doesn't like me at all. I heard Iris tell me that his parents both drank a lot, and Bryan has a disease because of it."
"FAS," Carter mumbled softly to himself. Grace looked up questioningly for a moment, but then turned back to her drawing.
"This," she said, pointing at a darker stick figure with black hair, "is Lamont Love. He's seven. He's mean sometimes, and he doesn't like me either. He plays with Brian, mostly, because he hates Iris and me. Iris says that Lamont's got ADHD and that his mom got arrested for something illegal. Iris wouldn't tell me, though. She said that I'm too young."
"Oh," Carter said. "So this is your foster family, huh?"
"Yep," Grace said, setting the drawing back onto the table. "They are nice people, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. They go to church and take us with them on Sundays."
"Do you like church?" Grace shrugged.
"It's okay," she said. "I was baptized when I was a baby, so I guess I'm supposed to go. It's not bad, and I like the singing. Mrs. Thompson lets me read the song book and copy from that if I get impatient. That's what I do."
"Do you know what church you were baptized in?" Carter asked. Grace sat back and thought for a moment.
"The Catholic church." Carter nodded.
"Okay, I was just wondering." Grace put the paper and crayons on a table close to her bed.
"Dr. Carter, do you want to play cards with me?" she asked, picking up a deck of cards from her bedside table.
"Sure, I'll play," he said. "Where'd you get those cards?" he asked.
"Nurse Lorraine brought them from the playroom," she answered, taking the cards out of the package. Across the room, Amanda looked up from her own drawing.
"Can I play too, Grace?" she asked. Grace beamed.
"Sure!" she said. "Can you come over all right?" Amanda nodded. Carter stood up.
"Hello, Dr. Carter," she said, pushing her lap table aside.
"Hello, Amanda," he said, crossing the room to her bed. "Do you need help?"
"No," Amanda said, shaking her head. "I can do it." She slowly lowered herself, with Carter's help, into a wheelchair sitting by her bed, and Carter pushed the chair over to the side of Grace's bed, where Amanda could reach the bed.
"Okay, what do you want to play?" Grace asked, shuffling the cards as best as a five-year-old could. Carter sat back down in his chair.
"Do you know how to play Bluff?" he asked her. The name of the game, he really knew, was BS, but that name wasn't too suitable for a child. Grace shook her head.
"No, could you teach me?" she asked, sounding eager. Carter gave her a smile, taking the deck of cards and shuffling them well. He began to deal the cards to Grace, Amanda, and himself.
"Sure," he said. He continued dealing out the deck. "What you do is..."
That's all for Chapter 10! Stay tuned next time for Carter musings and a twist in events!
Okay, and before you go doing the math on me (which I'm sure most of you already did), yes, I did bump Ella's age up a bit. I'm going to pretend that Ella and Grace are the same age for the sake of the future of this story, so please bear with me.
Again, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers, and to remind everyone else who reads this that it doesn't take long to review!!!
Arrivederci!
Snapdragon.