Author's Note: This is a shorty. Hope you enjoy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Casually draped in the hallway outside of Trauma Yellow, Luka stared at the words on the page in front of him. He was jealous. Jealous, once again, of Carter. This time, though, for entirely different reasons. And this time, the jealousy was mild; good-natured. Carter was in Congo, still, and Luka was at County. Suffering through the red tape, and the madness... With the exuberance of youth, Carter described to Luka the changes which were transforming him from a complacent, unaware citizen of one country to a globally aware citizen of the world. Chuckling to himself, Luka reflected on the parallel strangness of his developing friendship with a man he could barely countenance in the not-too-distant past.
"I never thought I would find myself, full-time, in any country other than the States, much less Africa. It's changing my life in all the right ways, Luka. And, I guess I have you to thank. You know, I always thought that you were trying to get me out of County, off to a foreign country, so that I'd be away from Abby, and you could make your move... I guess I owe you an apology for that, yes? Bygones, I hope... I owe you a debt of gratitude. I truly was lost. But I think I may have found my calling."
The sight of Abby's name caused Luka's eyes to dart up involuntarily, searching the hallway for her. He knew what no one else would see. She was happier than he'd seen her, ever. Back in med school, putting her family in proper perspective... all the things he'd wished for her; she and she, alone, was accomplishing. For herself, not for anyone else. But something fundamental had shifted in her eyes. Where once shone dissatisfaction, unhappiness, Abby's eyes now held the glow of something Luka recognized in his own eyes a lifetime ago. Bittersweet, and lovely, Abby's eyes displayed accepted loss. Grieving, silently and gracefully, cast her in lovely soft focus. Open, guileless -at least, he thought, with him -her face smoothed of care... Questions, he supposed, finally answered; put to rest. Taking the worry and stress from her bare face. She was simply ravishing. More beautiful than he had ever imagined her.
When he noticed her in the halls his heart swelled with pride for her. He truly was happy that she seemed happy... But, he knew, a part of her was hurt; open and bleeding. Yet she carried on. This image of her toiling away amidst her pain; bearing the heartache with grace, still able to laugh, even... toyed with his imagination. He was a romantic. Although he would never admit that to anyone. But deep down, where it really counted? He was his father's son. The son of a painter... Almost an actor, too -had the irresistable call of medicine not torn him from that passion... Yes... In his heart of hearts, he was a romantic. And Abby -who had long plagued his imagination anyway- bittersweet and softer, open and guileless... engaged his thoughts... inspired daydreams in him.... Shuddering a little, Luka determinedly went back to the letter.
"...may have found my calling. I don't know. For the first time in a long time, I feel I'm in a good place. No complications... No grey areas. Just -the needs and the needs fulfilled as best we can. No sleepless nights. No ethical dilemmas... It is good for the soul. Is this why you volunteer so often? As a matter of fact, the only aspect of this I am not completely comfortable with is the way I left things with Abby."
Involuntarily, Luka's eyes quickly darted up, again. This time, however, he noticed her in triage. He glanced back at the letter,
"...with Abby. I have no right to ask, and certainly no right to ask you, of all people... but you also know her better than anyone there. Luka, how is she? I don't really take the time to write anyone -Susan sent me some Halloween candy and a note. But, I haven't written her and asked and she's probably in solidarity with Abby anyway. Probably wouldn't tell me anything. I just want to know, I guess -is she okay?"
Reading between the lines, Luka suspected that Carter was asking after Abby's drinking. 'Dammit, Carter,' he thought, 'take care of your own life...' he looked at her again, smiling to himself, 'she can take care of herself, just fine. Even better alone, than she did with EITHER of us...' he mused.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Ramblings:
I hope you enjoyed... If you did, would you tell me? If you didn't... would you tell me? (Especially if you didn't! -constructive criticism is good; helps to become a better writer!) And thank you! In advance....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Casually draped in the hallway outside of Trauma Yellow, Luka stared at the words on the page in front of him. He was jealous. Jealous, once again, of Carter. This time, though, for entirely different reasons. And this time, the jealousy was mild; good-natured. Carter was in Congo, still, and Luka was at County. Suffering through the red tape, and the madness... With the exuberance of youth, Carter described to Luka the changes which were transforming him from a complacent, unaware citizen of one country to a globally aware citizen of the world. Chuckling to himself, Luka reflected on the parallel strangness of his developing friendship with a man he could barely countenance in the not-too-distant past.
"I never thought I would find myself, full-time, in any country other than the States, much less Africa. It's changing my life in all the right ways, Luka. And, I guess I have you to thank. You know, I always thought that you were trying to get me out of County, off to a foreign country, so that I'd be away from Abby, and you could make your move... I guess I owe you an apology for that, yes? Bygones, I hope... I owe you a debt of gratitude. I truly was lost. But I think I may have found my calling."
The sight of Abby's name caused Luka's eyes to dart up involuntarily, searching the hallway for her. He knew what no one else would see. She was happier than he'd seen her, ever. Back in med school, putting her family in proper perspective... all the things he'd wished for her; she and she, alone, was accomplishing. For herself, not for anyone else. But something fundamental had shifted in her eyes. Where once shone dissatisfaction, unhappiness, Abby's eyes now held the glow of something Luka recognized in his own eyes a lifetime ago. Bittersweet, and lovely, Abby's eyes displayed accepted loss. Grieving, silently and gracefully, cast her in lovely soft focus. Open, guileless -at least, he thought, with him -her face smoothed of care... Questions, he supposed, finally answered; put to rest. Taking the worry and stress from her bare face. She was simply ravishing. More beautiful than he had ever imagined her.
When he noticed her in the halls his heart swelled with pride for her. He truly was happy that she seemed happy... But, he knew, a part of her was hurt; open and bleeding. Yet she carried on. This image of her toiling away amidst her pain; bearing the heartache with grace, still able to laugh, even... toyed with his imagination. He was a romantic. Although he would never admit that to anyone. But deep down, where it really counted? He was his father's son. The son of a painter... Almost an actor, too -had the irresistable call of medicine not torn him from that passion... Yes... In his heart of hearts, he was a romantic. And Abby -who had long plagued his imagination anyway- bittersweet and softer, open and guileless... engaged his thoughts... inspired daydreams in him.... Shuddering a little, Luka determinedly went back to the letter.
"...may have found my calling. I don't know. For the first time in a long time, I feel I'm in a good place. No complications... No grey areas. Just -the needs and the needs fulfilled as best we can. No sleepless nights. No ethical dilemmas... It is good for the soul. Is this why you volunteer so often? As a matter of fact, the only aspect of this I am not completely comfortable with is the way I left things with Abby."
Involuntarily, Luka's eyes quickly darted up, again. This time, however, he noticed her in triage. He glanced back at the letter,
"...with Abby. I have no right to ask, and certainly no right to ask you, of all people... but you also know her better than anyone there. Luka, how is she? I don't really take the time to write anyone -Susan sent me some Halloween candy and a note. But, I haven't written her and asked and she's probably in solidarity with Abby anyway. Probably wouldn't tell me anything. I just want to know, I guess -is she okay?"
Reading between the lines, Luka suspected that Carter was asking after Abby's drinking. 'Dammit, Carter,' he thought, 'take care of your own life...' he looked at her again, smiling to himself, 'she can take care of herself, just fine. Even better alone, than she did with EITHER of us...' he mused.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Ramblings:
I hope you enjoyed... If you did, would you tell me? If you didn't... would you tell me? (Especially if you didn't! -constructive criticism is good; helps to become a better writer!) And thank you! In advance....