DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything that you recognize.
After an extremely long wait (I need to apologize endlessly for that, there's an explanation at the end of the chapter), here's chapter 16!!!
SAVING GRACE--CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Yes," Carter said, finding his voice just in time. He politely stretched out his hand to her, and she shook it.
"Laura Goetz," she introduced herself. "Summit County Children's Services." Carter nodded; he knew who she was already.
"John Carter, thank you for coming here." Ms. Goetz nodded, smiling amicably.
"Well," she began, shifting the weight of the box and briefcase to keep her balance, "I was told to deliver this box to you, apparently someone's talked to you about it already, though." Carter nodded.
"Yes, thank you," he said, and he lifted the box out of the woman's arms. It was moderate in weight, not too heavy, but not exactly feather-light either. Ms. Goetz seemed relieved to have the weight out of her arms, and straightened her posture a bit.
Carter led her back to the lounge, where he dropped the box off before heading up to see Grace. Afraid that someone would go rooting through it, he shoved it behind one of the couches. As it was taped securely shut, he didn't worry too much; he would know if the tape was tampered with.
"So where's Miss Knight?" Goetz asked, adjusting her glasses. Carter held the door to the lounge open for her and she walked out, stopping to wait for him to lead the way.
"She's up on the pediatric section of the hospital," he told her, somewhat reluctantly. He stood stalwart for a moment, arms crossed over his chest. The woman raised her eyebrows.
"Would you show me?" she asked slowly, as if he wouldn't understand her if she spoke otherwise. Carter, now slightly annoyed, shrugged his shoulders a fraction of an inch.
"Sure," he said, leading the way across the hectic ER and toward the elevator. The doors closed on them, and Carter jammed his finger into the '5' button, leaning back on the wall of the elevator. He took the opportunity to observe Ms. Goetz.
She stood in front of him, tapping her foot in an impatient manner. She seemed genuinely kind to him, but he still resented that she was going to be leaving to take Grace back to Ohio. Away from him.
The elevator halted at the fifth floor and the doors opened. Again, the woman stepped out and to the side, waiting for Carter to show her the way to the right room. He walked down the familiar corridor for what seemed like the 50th time in the last two weeks. He found the room without hesitation and pushed open the door.
"Hi Dr. Car--" Grace started with a grin. Her face fell unbelievably quickly, though, when she saw Ms. Goetz walk in behind him. Carter could tell that the child was uncomfortable. Still sitting on her bed, crayon and paper in hand, dressed in the famiiar pink hospital gown, her eyes had a slightly pleading look to them.
"Grace," Carter began, taking a breath. He crossed the room and sat on her bed, laying a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. "I want you to meet Ms. Goetz. She's from social services." Ms. Goetz stepped closer to the child.
"Hi, Grace," she said,crouching down so that she was at eye-level with the child. "I am Laura Goetz, but you can call me Miss Laura." She said all of this with a friendly manner.
Grace, not being her usual ebullient self, looked at the woman skepticaly. Instead, she turned to Carter with question in her eyes, as if she was not sure that this woman could be trusted. Carter gave her a small, encouraging nod. Looking still askance at the strange woman, Grace, somewhat unwillingly, extended her right hand.
"Grace Knight," she said, shaking the woman's hand. Carter smiled at her. She withdrew her hand quickly. There was a very awkward pause.
"So," Carter began slowly, "I guess that all that is left now is to get you out of this hospital, Grace."
"Okay," she said, half-heartedly. Carter nodded encouragingly.
"Okay," he echoed. "I'll just get a nurse up here and you will be out before you know it.
Indeed, much faster than he would have chosen, Holly was up to the pedes floor, filling out a dispo for the young girl. While Carter co-signed the chart and wrote her prescriptions, and Holly helped Grace to change her clothes after her IV had been removed.
Carter, who had been standing in the hallway at the time, finished signing off on her chart with a flourish. He stared at the signature for a moment, not wanting what he had done to fully sink in. Grace was really leaving.
The thought, the reality, was further enfoced by the sight that met his eyes after he had reentered the room.
Grace was sitting in the chair at the bedside, where Carter spent so many hours watching over her. Her legs, one of which was in a cast, dangled from where she sat, not long enough yet to reach all the way to the ground. Her blond hair was neatly combed and fell to just past her shoulders, hanging free. She wore the dress given to her by the staff at the party earlier. The purple knapsack sat, packed and ready for a journey, on the floor at the side of the chair.
Carter couldn't stand the look that she had in her eyes then. A certain sadness filled the azure orbs; they almost plead out to him. Her eyes were round, like a puppy's, and there was no laughter in them now. She looked up at him as if it were her final moments.
Carter knelt so that he was at eye-level with his daughter, resting a hand comfortingly on her arm. She met his gaze with hers, this time, though, Carter could not decipher the message in it. He exhaled quickly in a sort of soft sigh.
"Grace," he began, but soon found his mind going blank. Unprepared for the moment, he did not know what to say. He took a deep breath. "I'll see you in no time," he continued, though not altogether certain in his words. "We'll be back together soon. Remember those things we talked about, the ones that I need to get sorted out before I see you again?"
"Yes," came the small, quiet voice. Carter nodded.
"As soon as that is done, I will come and tell you, okay?" Grace lowered her head slightly, perhaps in sadness, and nodded. A lock of her hair broke from behind her ear and fell in front of her face.
"I still have to go, though," she said heavily, more as a statement than a question. Carter sighed.
"Yeah," he said, the words weighing on his heart. Grace took in a sharp breath, her head hanging lower, as if she had altogether lost the will to hold it up.
A ray of autumn sunlight fell on the child's face, sparkling as it illuminated a tiny teardrop making its way down her cheek. Carter's heart left him; he seemed not to be able to breathe. He hated to see his child in pain.
"Hey," he said gently. "None of that, now." He gingerly pushed the stray hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. She lifted her chin up slowly, her eyes moist and sad.
"I don't want to go," she said quietly, barely above a whisper, voice quivering. Carter held out his arms to her in a hug, and she threw her arms around her neck like she never wanted to let go. Carter knew that he didn't want her to.
"I know, sweetheart," he said, stroking her hair softly. "I know, but you have to. I don't want you to go either." Grace sniffled, crying into his shoulder. Carter felt tears threatening in his own eyes, and blinked them back furiously. Father and daughter pulled out of their embrace. Grace wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
The social worker standing at the back of the room cleared her throat suddenly, making them both jump.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but we need to go relatively soon, or else we will miss our flight." Carter stood, turning to face her, nodding.
"Okay," he said. He swung his head around to look at Grace. She had dried her eyes and was sitting in the chair, pulling on and tying one of her shoes carefully. "She will be ready soon. She just needs to go to the bathroom and wash her face--" he raised his voice slightly to make sure that she had heard him, "--before she can be on her way." Ms. Goetz smiled slightly, nodding professionally.
"Okay," she said. "Come on, Grace, you heard him." Grace pushed herself up, rather reluctantly, and put her crutches under her arms, making her way carefully over to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Carter cleared his throat.
"Oh, here are her meds," he handed the social worker a small envelope containing several white tablets. "For the pain, she can take one every four to six hours. That should last her the week, until the pain subsides on its own. In about five or six weeks, have her foster parents call us and we'll send over her medical records, so that she will be able to get that cast off of her leg."
"I'll tell the Thompsons to call you, then, if there are any problems?" Carter nodded.
"Yes, I believe you have my home phone number, and the number of the ER. You can reach me any time, day or night; don't hesitate if there are any problems at all," he told her. She nodded, adjusting her glasses.
Grace emerged from the bathroom, her face clean and no longer pouting. Instead she seemed to be trying to block out her emotions, perhaps to make the parting easier. She hobbled over to where her backpack was lying, picked it up, and slung it over onto her back. The three of them, Carter's hand on Grace's shoulder, plodded out the door and down the hallway, toward the elevators.
The social worker craned her neck, looking over her shoulder at Carter as they trudged up the sidewalk to the nearest intersection.
"I'm going to flag down a cab to take us to the airport," she said simply. For an instant, her eyes got a strange glint in them; was it pity? Carter nodded, knowing that it was his last-minute warning. They stopped at a corner and Ms. Goetz stuck her hand out, briefcase dangling from the other.
"Grace," Carter turned to the child, kneeling on one knee and placing his hand on her shoulder, "Miss Laura is going to get a car to take you and her to the airport so you can go back home to Ohio, okay?" Grace nodded, from what Carter could tell, somewhat reluctantly.
A yellow taxicab appeared in front of them, and the social worker lowered her hand. She turned to Carter and gave him a look that clearly stated that they needed to go soon. He turned back to his daughter, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and smoothing it with his hand.
"I'll see you soon, I promise," he said softly to the child. She nodded, looking into his eyes. There was a short silence, and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Ms. Goetz gesturing at him, deciding to ignore her for the time being. "Be a good girl for Miss Laura, okay?"
"Okay," she said in a tiny voice, boring into Carter's eyes.
"Behave yourself," he added, with a hint of payfulness in his voice. The corners of Grace's mouth turned up in a shadow of a smile.
"I will." Carter removed his hand from the little girl's shoulder, pushing himself up from the ground. He bent over and kissed her forehead gently.
"I love you, sweetheart," he spoke softly. Grace gave a tiny smile.
"I love you, too." Before he knew it, Grace had thrown her arms around his waist, as high as she could reach, and Carter kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair again.
The taxi honked its horn and Ms. Goetz, with a sligh look of panic from worrying about missing the flight back to Cleveland, waved at Grace from her seat inside of the car to hurry.
Grace looked long and hard at Carter, as if she was committing his face to her memory. Carter saw the look in her bright blue eyes before she turned away toward the taxi. She lowered herself down onto the seat, handing the crutches wordlessly to the woman seated beside her. Grace buckled her seat belt, and pulled the door of the cab closed.
All that Carter could do as she stepped away, as she closed the door, as the driver of the cab sped away down the busy Chicago seat, as the child pressed her nose against the window and watched, with round eyes, as he disappeared, all that he could do was stand there, abandoned on the sidewalk, as a lump gathered in his throat and the autumn wind swept a lonely leaf along the pavement in front of him, was stare after them.
Carter didn't recall how long he had stood there after his daughter was swept away from him, like that leaf on the breeze. He didn't remember how long he had stood there, hands in his pockets, as a few stray rays of the sun's light fell upon his face. All he could remember was the feeling in the pit of his stomach, the center of his very heart: a strange sense of loss.
Finally, he took his hands out of his pockets and turned back to the entrance into the hospital. As he walked through the doors, so many people stopped and he felt dozens of eyes fixing their gazes at him. He was suddenly how foolish his arms felt, swinging awkwardly back and forth at his sides. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets, carefully keeping his gaze focused on the door to the lounge.
Once Carter had reached the safety of the lounge, he collapsed into a lumpy old armchair, a 'fwuump' noise issuing from it in protest. He massaged his forehead, trying to force the previous events to sink into his mind.
Strange, he thought, that his life could change so much in an instant. He never would have been able to guess that one patient, one child, could have such a drasticeffect on his outlook. Two weeks ago, just two weeks, he wouldn't have been able to fathom it.
On Lucy's birthday, her child--his child--was rushed into his life on a gurney. How ironic, he thought, laughing softly.
Quick footsteps jolted him from the reverie.
"Hey Carter," Abby said, in the softened tone that he himself used when speaking to a family with bad news. She hesitated, as if cautious that Carter's temper would flare up. It didn't. She came over and sat down in the couch across from him, crossing her legs.
"Hey," he said, in a would-be-cheerful voice. "What's up?" She ignored the question.
"So she's gone, then?" Carter nodded, looking up and meeting Abby's gaze.
"Yeah," he siad. He cleared his throat. "The family lawyers are on it, though. I'm filing for adoption." Abby raised her eyebrows.
"Wow," she said, seemingly surprised.
"What, you didn't think that I was going to find out that I had a child and then let her go back hundreds of miles away?"
"No, no, it's not that," she said quickly, "I think it's great." She gave him a small smile.
There was a long silence. Abby uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, and Carter massaged his forehead, squeezing his eyes cloosed and then opening them again. She noticed his actions, and looked at him with a sort of worried concern.
"Aren't you off?" she asked, frowning.
"Yeah, just came to see that Grace was discharged safely."
"You should go home, get some rest. You on tomorrow?"
"The day after."
"Great, so go home, take a hot shower, and go to sleep. You look like you could use some R & R." Carter nodded. She was right, he did want to get out of the hospital.
"Yeah, I'll do that," he told her, rising from his seat. She gave him a small smile.
"Good." There was a pause as Carter collected his bag and keys from his locker, and hoisted the box from behind the couch into his arms. Abby caught his eye, watching with raised eyebrows.
"Just some stuff," he answered before she even got a chance to ask the questions. Looking as though she wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer, Abby nodded slowly, but seemed to decide to let it be. He shifted the weight of the box.
"Okay," she said. Carter turned to walk out of the room.
"Thanks, Abby, for all of your help with Grace," he said, throwing her a smile.
"It was fun, I really like her. And don't thank me yet, I have a feeling that I will be babysitting her in the future," she told him, grinning. He gave a soft laugh.
"See you later, Abby."
"Bye, Carter."
Some time later, Carter sat at his kitchen table, in his apartment, the box that the social worker had given to him earlier sitting in front of him. He wanted to open it, wanted to know its contents. He seized a pair of scissors from a drawer in the kitchen and held them in his hand, poised to strike. He hesitated.
What would he find? The last time he had opened an unknown package, he had found out that he had a daughter. What mystery lied within the corrugation?
Curiosity overcame apprehension, and Carter cut into the plastic tape securing the sides of the box with the edge of the scissors. As he inspected the sides, he noticed a tiny bit of handwriting near a corner in one of the sides.
'John T. Carter."
This must have been how they knew to send it to me, Carter thought, squinting at the tiny, perfectly written words. But what if the contents were not meant for him? That thought was chased out of his mind as quickly as it had appeared. Making sure that the flaps of the box were separated, he set the scissors down onto the table.
Taking a breath, he edged his fingers under the heavy cardboard flaps of the package and lifted. A faint smell of cardboard and old paper issued in a puff of air from the inside of the box.
All that he could see at first were pages of crumpled newspaper, probably used in packaging. Something in the box must be fragile, he thought. Carefully, he removed the densely packed wads of newspaper and tossed them aside. Shortly after, he found the first item.
It was a brown manila envelope, the sort with a metal brad to close it. He pried open the metal with his fingers and pulled out several thick sheets of paper. He held them ini his hands for a moment, fingering the top sheet curiously.
The top piece of paper was a birth certificate, the original, of which Carter had recieved a copy in the original letter. He looked over it, trying to take in the cursive writing filling in the blanks in black pen. There it was, he saw--his name written carefully in the space marked 'Father.'
Setting the certificate of birth gingerly aside, he leafed through the other documents. There was an array of different papers. He saw the certificate for the Sacrament of Baptism, records from the preschool she attended, doctor's bills, hospital bills, dentist records, and even an achievement award filled out to Grace for being the first child to be able to read in her class. Carter smiled to himself, filling with a strange new sense of paternal pride as he set the award aside. Slipping the pages back inside the envelope, he laid it down on the table near the box.
He looked back into the box and discovered more crumpled-up newspaper. He plucked a few out of the package and discovered a neatly wrapped item in smooth tissue paper. He lifted it out with his hand, surprised at the heavy weight of the thing. Unwrapping the tissue paper, he saw why it was so heavy.
It was a small square of white plaster. Turning it over, Carter saw a tiny handprint on the front side imprinting the plaster. Very neatly below the hand, the name 'GRACE' was printed in steady, capital letters, probably by a teacher. On the back was the date, Grace's first year of preschool.
Carter sat for a moment, marvelling at the size of the hand that had made the print. It was so small, but so perfect, he thought, as he ran his hand gently over it. re-wrapping it, he gently set the plaster handprint down on the table and turned back to the cardboard box in front of him.
Carter lifted a thin sheet of tissue paper out of the box to reveal a sort of book. Examining it more closely, he saw that it was a photo album. He lifted the album out of the package and set it on the table in front of him. He gingerly lifted its lavender cover.
The album was filled with photographs of Grace. He saw his daughter's first sonograms, which even with his knowlege could not understsand except that she was there. There she was on her birthday, her first real baby picture, red-faced, bald, and screaming, wrapped in a pink blanket. On the next page, Lucy was resting comfortably, hair slightly damp, holding her daughter in her arms and smiling joyfully.
Time seemed to pass with each page that Carter turned. He saw Grace's first smile, first locks of hair growing. He noticed that her first strands of baby hair had been a light brown, and had lightened into blond later. Her eyes became a strong, clear blue.
On the following page was his daughter's christening, Grace held placidly over a silver basin in a long, white gown as the priest prepared to pour water over her forehead. He saw Grace's first Christmas, in a tiny green satin dress with white trim, clutching a candy cane in her pudgy fist.
Then the page was turned again and there was a photo of Lucy and Grace taken outside in the snowy months, probably shortly after the new year. Both were bundled in warm clothes, pink-faced from the cold and smiling. On the facing page was a professionally taken photograph of mother and daughter, wearing soft smiles and a shade of blue that brought out their identical blue eyes. The photo was breathtaking.
After a moment, Carter realized sadly that this was the last picture that Lucy took together with her daughter.
Sure enough, the remaining photos were ones of Grace by herself, or else taken with Barbara Knight or another family friend. He saw the first Easter egg hunt, Grace in her Sunday dress clutching a basket in her tiny hands. photographs later was Grace's first swim, in a purple swimsuit with water wings on both arms and Barbara there supporting her.
Then there was her first birthday, but Carter noticed that Lucy was ominously absent from the scene. Things didn't seem the same without her there. Still, though, the pictures continued to be taken, as if Barbara hadn't wanted Carter to miss one moment of his daughter's growing up.
The entire photo album was devoted to Grace's first year and a half of life. After he had viewed the last photograph (Grace's second Christmas), he closed the book with gentle hands and reached, once again toward the box on the kitchen table. From its bottom, he pulled out one last photo album.
Turning the pages slightly faster this time, he saw his daughter really begin to grow up. He saw her second birthday, summer days at a beach, first winter romp in the snow, third birthday, first day of preschool, trick-or-treating in a princess costume. The last photo in the album was a more current one. It depicted Grace in a blue swimsuit buiding a sandcastle. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she smiled as she stuck a pink wildflower into the castle for decoration.
That was the last photograph. Carter knew that no more had been taken for the album, because its creator was no longer around to do that. Sighing, he closed the second book and set it on the table next to the first. The now-empty cardboard box was taken from atop the table and set onto the linoleum floor of the kitchen.
Carter carefully deposited the manila envelope of documents into a drawer of his desk in the living area. The plaster cast of Grace's handprint went on a shelf near the front door, in between photos of his grandmother and parents. Lastly, the photo albums were carried into his bedroom and set carefully onto the small shelf that served as a bookcase. Carter turned on the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of his bed.
He rose after a moment, and walked over to the shelf, removing one of the photo albums. He flipped through it, and carefully removed a photo.
It was one of his favorites. She was sitting on the grass outdoors, probably in the backyard of the house in Ohio. She wore a light-pink dress with darker flowers embroidered on the scalloped collar, little white sneakers and a tiny ribbon in her har. She must have been around four years old; her eyes seemed to sparkle with childhood innocence. In her hand she held a single white iris, probably picked from a garden nearby.
Gingerly, Carter set the photograph on his bedside table, propping it up against the lamp. He looked at it for a moment, satisfied.
Later that night, Carter put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth before getting into bed. As he shut off the light, he looked at the picture of his daughter.
It would be the first thing that he saw the next morning, and the last thing before going to sleep, that day, and the next, and the next.........
Okay! So that's chapter 16. I really hope it wasn't too disappointing. I had awful writers block during it, b/c I knew what I wanted to write, but not how to write it.
I'd also like to apologize for how long it took me to get this one up. After my exams, my brother went and got me and my sister banned from the internet for a week, and after that it was off to Boston for two weeks for a leadership conference (on medicine, what else?). That was totally awesome, definitely the highlight of my summer so far. After I got back, I had to finish writing this, and the rest is history.
Again, sorry for the delay. I'm not posting reviewer shout-outs (sorry), but I'm gonna do double after the next chapter.
Thanks for understanding
Snapdragon
After an extremely long wait (I need to apologize endlessly for that, there's an explanation at the end of the chapter), here's chapter 16!!!
SAVING GRACE--CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Yes," Carter said, finding his voice just in time. He politely stretched out his hand to her, and she shook it.
"Laura Goetz," she introduced herself. "Summit County Children's Services." Carter nodded; he knew who she was already.
"John Carter, thank you for coming here." Ms. Goetz nodded, smiling amicably.
"Well," she began, shifting the weight of the box and briefcase to keep her balance, "I was told to deliver this box to you, apparently someone's talked to you about it already, though." Carter nodded.
"Yes, thank you," he said, and he lifted the box out of the woman's arms. It was moderate in weight, not too heavy, but not exactly feather-light either. Ms. Goetz seemed relieved to have the weight out of her arms, and straightened her posture a bit.
Carter led her back to the lounge, where he dropped the box off before heading up to see Grace. Afraid that someone would go rooting through it, he shoved it behind one of the couches. As it was taped securely shut, he didn't worry too much; he would know if the tape was tampered with.
"So where's Miss Knight?" Goetz asked, adjusting her glasses. Carter held the door to the lounge open for her and she walked out, stopping to wait for him to lead the way.
"She's up on the pediatric section of the hospital," he told her, somewhat reluctantly. He stood stalwart for a moment, arms crossed over his chest. The woman raised her eyebrows.
"Would you show me?" she asked slowly, as if he wouldn't understand her if she spoke otherwise. Carter, now slightly annoyed, shrugged his shoulders a fraction of an inch.
"Sure," he said, leading the way across the hectic ER and toward the elevator. The doors closed on them, and Carter jammed his finger into the '5' button, leaning back on the wall of the elevator. He took the opportunity to observe Ms. Goetz.
She stood in front of him, tapping her foot in an impatient manner. She seemed genuinely kind to him, but he still resented that she was going to be leaving to take Grace back to Ohio. Away from him.
The elevator halted at the fifth floor and the doors opened. Again, the woman stepped out and to the side, waiting for Carter to show her the way to the right room. He walked down the familiar corridor for what seemed like the 50th time in the last two weeks. He found the room without hesitation and pushed open the door.
"Hi Dr. Car--" Grace started with a grin. Her face fell unbelievably quickly, though, when she saw Ms. Goetz walk in behind him. Carter could tell that the child was uncomfortable. Still sitting on her bed, crayon and paper in hand, dressed in the famiiar pink hospital gown, her eyes had a slightly pleading look to them.
"Grace," Carter began, taking a breath. He crossed the room and sat on her bed, laying a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. "I want you to meet Ms. Goetz. She's from social services." Ms. Goetz stepped closer to the child.
"Hi, Grace," she said,crouching down so that she was at eye-level with the child. "I am Laura Goetz, but you can call me Miss Laura." She said all of this with a friendly manner.
Grace, not being her usual ebullient self, looked at the woman skepticaly. Instead, she turned to Carter with question in her eyes, as if she was not sure that this woman could be trusted. Carter gave her a small, encouraging nod. Looking still askance at the strange woman, Grace, somewhat unwillingly, extended her right hand.
"Grace Knight," she said, shaking the woman's hand. Carter smiled at her. She withdrew her hand quickly. There was a very awkward pause.
"So," Carter began slowly, "I guess that all that is left now is to get you out of this hospital, Grace."
"Okay," she said, half-heartedly. Carter nodded encouragingly.
"Okay," he echoed. "I'll just get a nurse up here and you will be out before you know it.
Indeed, much faster than he would have chosen, Holly was up to the pedes floor, filling out a dispo for the young girl. While Carter co-signed the chart and wrote her prescriptions, and Holly helped Grace to change her clothes after her IV had been removed.
Carter, who had been standing in the hallway at the time, finished signing off on her chart with a flourish. He stared at the signature for a moment, not wanting what he had done to fully sink in. Grace was really leaving.
The thought, the reality, was further enfoced by the sight that met his eyes after he had reentered the room.
Grace was sitting in the chair at the bedside, where Carter spent so many hours watching over her. Her legs, one of which was in a cast, dangled from where she sat, not long enough yet to reach all the way to the ground. Her blond hair was neatly combed and fell to just past her shoulders, hanging free. She wore the dress given to her by the staff at the party earlier. The purple knapsack sat, packed and ready for a journey, on the floor at the side of the chair.
Carter couldn't stand the look that she had in her eyes then. A certain sadness filled the azure orbs; they almost plead out to him. Her eyes were round, like a puppy's, and there was no laughter in them now. She looked up at him as if it were her final moments.
Carter knelt so that he was at eye-level with his daughter, resting a hand comfortingly on her arm. She met his gaze with hers, this time, though, Carter could not decipher the message in it. He exhaled quickly in a sort of soft sigh.
"Grace," he began, but soon found his mind going blank. Unprepared for the moment, he did not know what to say. He took a deep breath. "I'll see you in no time," he continued, though not altogether certain in his words. "We'll be back together soon. Remember those things we talked about, the ones that I need to get sorted out before I see you again?"
"Yes," came the small, quiet voice. Carter nodded.
"As soon as that is done, I will come and tell you, okay?" Grace lowered her head slightly, perhaps in sadness, and nodded. A lock of her hair broke from behind her ear and fell in front of her face.
"I still have to go, though," she said heavily, more as a statement than a question. Carter sighed.
"Yeah," he said, the words weighing on his heart. Grace took in a sharp breath, her head hanging lower, as if she had altogether lost the will to hold it up.
A ray of autumn sunlight fell on the child's face, sparkling as it illuminated a tiny teardrop making its way down her cheek. Carter's heart left him; he seemed not to be able to breathe. He hated to see his child in pain.
"Hey," he said gently. "None of that, now." He gingerly pushed the stray hair out of her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. She lifted her chin up slowly, her eyes moist and sad.
"I don't want to go," she said quietly, barely above a whisper, voice quivering. Carter held out his arms to her in a hug, and she threw her arms around her neck like she never wanted to let go. Carter knew that he didn't want her to.
"I know, sweetheart," he said, stroking her hair softly. "I know, but you have to. I don't want you to go either." Grace sniffled, crying into his shoulder. Carter felt tears threatening in his own eyes, and blinked them back furiously. Father and daughter pulled out of their embrace. Grace wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
The social worker standing at the back of the room cleared her throat suddenly, making them both jump.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but we need to go relatively soon, or else we will miss our flight." Carter stood, turning to face her, nodding.
"Okay," he said. He swung his head around to look at Grace. She had dried her eyes and was sitting in the chair, pulling on and tying one of her shoes carefully. "She will be ready soon. She just needs to go to the bathroom and wash her face--" he raised his voice slightly to make sure that she had heard him, "--before she can be on her way." Ms. Goetz smiled slightly, nodding professionally.
"Okay," she said. "Come on, Grace, you heard him." Grace pushed herself up, rather reluctantly, and put her crutches under her arms, making her way carefully over to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Carter cleared his throat.
"Oh, here are her meds," he handed the social worker a small envelope containing several white tablets. "For the pain, she can take one every four to six hours. That should last her the week, until the pain subsides on its own. In about five or six weeks, have her foster parents call us and we'll send over her medical records, so that she will be able to get that cast off of her leg."
"I'll tell the Thompsons to call you, then, if there are any problems?" Carter nodded.
"Yes, I believe you have my home phone number, and the number of the ER. You can reach me any time, day or night; don't hesitate if there are any problems at all," he told her. She nodded, adjusting her glasses.
Grace emerged from the bathroom, her face clean and no longer pouting. Instead she seemed to be trying to block out her emotions, perhaps to make the parting easier. She hobbled over to where her backpack was lying, picked it up, and slung it over onto her back. The three of them, Carter's hand on Grace's shoulder, plodded out the door and down the hallway, toward the elevators.
The social worker craned her neck, looking over her shoulder at Carter as they trudged up the sidewalk to the nearest intersection.
"I'm going to flag down a cab to take us to the airport," she said simply. For an instant, her eyes got a strange glint in them; was it pity? Carter nodded, knowing that it was his last-minute warning. They stopped at a corner and Ms. Goetz stuck her hand out, briefcase dangling from the other.
"Grace," Carter turned to the child, kneeling on one knee and placing his hand on her shoulder, "Miss Laura is going to get a car to take you and her to the airport so you can go back home to Ohio, okay?" Grace nodded, from what Carter could tell, somewhat reluctantly.
A yellow taxicab appeared in front of them, and the social worker lowered her hand. She turned to Carter and gave him a look that clearly stated that they needed to go soon. He turned back to his daughter, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and smoothing it with his hand.
"I'll see you soon, I promise," he said softly to the child. She nodded, looking into his eyes. There was a short silence, and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Ms. Goetz gesturing at him, deciding to ignore her for the time being. "Be a good girl for Miss Laura, okay?"
"Okay," she said in a tiny voice, boring into Carter's eyes.
"Behave yourself," he added, with a hint of payfulness in his voice. The corners of Grace's mouth turned up in a shadow of a smile.
"I will." Carter removed his hand from the little girl's shoulder, pushing himself up from the ground. He bent over and kissed her forehead gently.
"I love you, sweetheart," he spoke softly. Grace gave a tiny smile.
"I love you, too." Before he knew it, Grace had thrown her arms around his waist, as high as she could reach, and Carter kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair again.
The taxi honked its horn and Ms. Goetz, with a sligh look of panic from worrying about missing the flight back to Cleveland, waved at Grace from her seat inside of the car to hurry.
Grace looked long and hard at Carter, as if she was committing his face to her memory. Carter saw the look in her bright blue eyes before she turned away toward the taxi. She lowered herself down onto the seat, handing the crutches wordlessly to the woman seated beside her. Grace buckled her seat belt, and pulled the door of the cab closed.
All that Carter could do as she stepped away, as she closed the door, as the driver of the cab sped away down the busy Chicago seat, as the child pressed her nose against the window and watched, with round eyes, as he disappeared, all that he could do was stand there, abandoned on the sidewalk, as a lump gathered in his throat and the autumn wind swept a lonely leaf along the pavement in front of him, was stare after them.
Carter didn't recall how long he had stood there after his daughter was swept away from him, like that leaf on the breeze. He didn't remember how long he had stood there, hands in his pockets, as a few stray rays of the sun's light fell upon his face. All he could remember was the feeling in the pit of his stomach, the center of his very heart: a strange sense of loss.
Finally, he took his hands out of his pockets and turned back to the entrance into the hospital. As he walked through the doors, so many people stopped and he felt dozens of eyes fixing their gazes at him. He was suddenly how foolish his arms felt, swinging awkwardly back and forth at his sides. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets, carefully keeping his gaze focused on the door to the lounge.
Once Carter had reached the safety of the lounge, he collapsed into a lumpy old armchair, a 'fwuump' noise issuing from it in protest. He massaged his forehead, trying to force the previous events to sink into his mind.
Strange, he thought, that his life could change so much in an instant. He never would have been able to guess that one patient, one child, could have such a drasticeffect on his outlook. Two weeks ago, just two weeks, he wouldn't have been able to fathom it.
On Lucy's birthday, her child--his child--was rushed into his life on a gurney. How ironic, he thought, laughing softly.
Quick footsteps jolted him from the reverie.
"Hey Carter," Abby said, in the softened tone that he himself used when speaking to a family with bad news. She hesitated, as if cautious that Carter's temper would flare up. It didn't. She came over and sat down in the couch across from him, crossing her legs.
"Hey," he said, in a would-be-cheerful voice. "What's up?" She ignored the question.
"So she's gone, then?" Carter nodded, looking up and meeting Abby's gaze.
"Yeah," he siad. He cleared his throat. "The family lawyers are on it, though. I'm filing for adoption." Abby raised her eyebrows.
"Wow," she said, seemingly surprised.
"What, you didn't think that I was going to find out that I had a child and then let her go back hundreds of miles away?"
"No, no, it's not that," she said quickly, "I think it's great." She gave him a small smile.
There was a long silence. Abby uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, and Carter massaged his forehead, squeezing his eyes cloosed and then opening them again. She noticed his actions, and looked at him with a sort of worried concern.
"Aren't you off?" she asked, frowning.
"Yeah, just came to see that Grace was discharged safely."
"You should go home, get some rest. You on tomorrow?"
"The day after."
"Great, so go home, take a hot shower, and go to sleep. You look like you could use some R & R." Carter nodded. She was right, he did want to get out of the hospital.
"Yeah, I'll do that," he told her, rising from his seat. She gave him a small smile.
"Good." There was a pause as Carter collected his bag and keys from his locker, and hoisted the box from behind the couch into his arms. Abby caught his eye, watching with raised eyebrows.
"Just some stuff," he answered before she even got a chance to ask the questions. Looking as though she wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer, Abby nodded slowly, but seemed to decide to let it be. He shifted the weight of the box.
"Okay," she said. Carter turned to walk out of the room.
"Thanks, Abby, for all of your help with Grace," he said, throwing her a smile.
"It was fun, I really like her. And don't thank me yet, I have a feeling that I will be babysitting her in the future," she told him, grinning. He gave a soft laugh.
"See you later, Abby."
"Bye, Carter."
Some time later, Carter sat at his kitchen table, in his apartment, the box that the social worker had given to him earlier sitting in front of him. He wanted to open it, wanted to know its contents. He seized a pair of scissors from a drawer in the kitchen and held them in his hand, poised to strike. He hesitated.
What would he find? The last time he had opened an unknown package, he had found out that he had a daughter. What mystery lied within the corrugation?
Curiosity overcame apprehension, and Carter cut into the plastic tape securing the sides of the box with the edge of the scissors. As he inspected the sides, he noticed a tiny bit of handwriting near a corner in one of the sides.
'John T. Carter."
This must have been how they knew to send it to me, Carter thought, squinting at the tiny, perfectly written words. But what if the contents were not meant for him? That thought was chased out of his mind as quickly as it had appeared. Making sure that the flaps of the box were separated, he set the scissors down onto the table.
Taking a breath, he edged his fingers under the heavy cardboard flaps of the package and lifted. A faint smell of cardboard and old paper issued in a puff of air from the inside of the box.
All that he could see at first were pages of crumpled newspaper, probably used in packaging. Something in the box must be fragile, he thought. Carefully, he removed the densely packed wads of newspaper and tossed them aside. Shortly after, he found the first item.
It was a brown manila envelope, the sort with a metal brad to close it. He pried open the metal with his fingers and pulled out several thick sheets of paper. He held them ini his hands for a moment, fingering the top sheet curiously.
The top piece of paper was a birth certificate, the original, of which Carter had recieved a copy in the original letter. He looked over it, trying to take in the cursive writing filling in the blanks in black pen. There it was, he saw--his name written carefully in the space marked 'Father.'
Setting the certificate of birth gingerly aside, he leafed through the other documents. There was an array of different papers. He saw the certificate for the Sacrament of Baptism, records from the preschool she attended, doctor's bills, hospital bills, dentist records, and even an achievement award filled out to Grace for being the first child to be able to read in her class. Carter smiled to himself, filling with a strange new sense of paternal pride as he set the award aside. Slipping the pages back inside the envelope, he laid it down on the table near the box.
He looked back into the box and discovered more crumpled-up newspaper. He plucked a few out of the package and discovered a neatly wrapped item in smooth tissue paper. He lifted it out with his hand, surprised at the heavy weight of the thing. Unwrapping the tissue paper, he saw why it was so heavy.
It was a small square of white plaster. Turning it over, Carter saw a tiny handprint on the front side imprinting the plaster. Very neatly below the hand, the name 'GRACE' was printed in steady, capital letters, probably by a teacher. On the back was the date, Grace's first year of preschool.
Carter sat for a moment, marvelling at the size of the hand that had made the print. It was so small, but so perfect, he thought, as he ran his hand gently over it. re-wrapping it, he gently set the plaster handprint down on the table and turned back to the cardboard box in front of him.
Carter lifted a thin sheet of tissue paper out of the box to reveal a sort of book. Examining it more closely, he saw that it was a photo album. He lifted the album out of the package and set it on the table in front of him. He gingerly lifted its lavender cover.
The album was filled with photographs of Grace. He saw his daughter's first sonograms, which even with his knowlege could not understsand except that she was there. There she was on her birthday, her first real baby picture, red-faced, bald, and screaming, wrapped in a pink blanket. On the next page, Lucy was resting comfortably, hair slightly damp, holding her daughter in her arms and smiling joyfully.
Time seemed to pass with each page that Carter turned. He saw Grace's first smile, first locks of hair growing. He noticed that her first strands of baby hair had been a light brown, and had lightened into blond later. Her eyes became a strong, clear blue.
On the following page was his daughter's christening, Grace held placidly over a silver basin in a long, white gown as the priest prepared to pour water over her forehead. He saw Grace's first Christmas, in a tiny green satin dress with white trim, clutching a candy cane in her pudgy fist.
Then the page was turned again and there was a photo of Lucy and Grace taken outside in the snowy months, probably shortly after the new year. Both were bundled in warm clothes, pink-faced from the cold and smiling. On the facing page was a professionally taken photograph of mother and daughter, wearing soft smiles and a shade of blue that brought out their identical blue eyes. The photo was breathtaking.
After a moment, Carter realized sadly that this was the last picture that Lucy took together with her daughter.
Sure enough, the remaining photos were ones of Grace by herself, or else taken with Barbara Knight or another family friend. He saw the first Easter egg hunt, Grace in her Sunday dress clutching a basket in her tiny hands. photographs later was Grace's first swim, in a purple swimsuit with water wings on both arms and Barbara there supporting her.
Then there was her first birthday, but Carter noticed that Lucy was ominously absent from the scene. Things didn't seem the same without her there. Still, though, the pictures continued to be taken, as if Barbara hadn't wanted Carter to miss one moment of his daughter's growing up.
The entire photo album was devoted to Grace's first year and a half of life. After he had viewed the last photograph (Grace's second Christmas), he closed the book with gentle hands and reached, once again toward the box on the kitchen table. From its bottom, he pulled out one last photo album.
Turning the pages slightly faster this time, he saw his daughter really begin to grow up. He saw her second birthday, summer days at a beach, first winter romp in the snow, third birthday, first day of preschool, trick-or-treating in a princess costume. The last photo in the album was a more current one. It depicted Grace in a blue swimsuit buiding a sandcastle. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she smiled as she stuck a pink wildflower into the castle for decoration.
That was the last photograph. Carter knew that no more had been taken for the album, because its creator was no longer around to do that. Sighing, he closed the second book and set it on the table next to the first. The now-empty cardboard box was taken from atop the table and set onto the linoleum floor of the kitchen.
Carter carefully deposited the manila envelope of documents into a drawer of his desk in the living area. The plaster cast of Grace's handprint went on a shelf near the front door, in between photos of his grandmother and parents. Lastly, the photo albums were carried into his bedroom and set carefully onto the small shelf that served as a bookcase. Carter turned on the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of his bed.
He rose after a moment, and walked over to the shelf, removing one of the photo albums. He flipped through it, and carefully removed a photo.
It was one of his favorites. She was sitting on the grass outdoors, probably in the backyard of the house in Ohio. She wore a light-pink dress with darker flowers embroidered on the scalloped collar, little white sneakers and a tiny ribbon in her har. She must have been around four years old; her eyes seemed to sparkle with childhood innocence. In her hand she held a single white iris, probably picked from a garden nearby.
Gingerly, Carter set the photograph on his bedside table, propping it up against the lamp. He looked at it for a moment, satisfied.
Later that night, Carter put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth before getting into bed. As he shut off the light, he looked at the picture of his daughter.
It would be the first thing that he saw the next morning, and the last thing before going to sleep, that day, and the next, and the next.........
Okay! So that's chapter 16. I really hope it wasn't too disappointing. I had awful writers block during it, b/c I knew what I wanted to write, but not how to write it.
I'd also like to apologize for how long it took me to get this one up. After my exams, my brother went and got me and my sister banned from the internet for a week, and after that it was off to Boston for two weeks for a leadership conference (on medicine, what else?). That was totally awesome, definitely the highlight of my summer so far. After I got back, I had to finish writing this, and the rest is history.
Again, sorry for the delay. I'm not posting reviewer shout-outs (sorry), but I'm gonna do double after the next chapter.
Thanks for understanding
Snapdragon