Maggie Carpenter rose to her feet along with the rest of the Trinity Episcopal Congregation for the closing hymn, "Be Thou My Vision". Her eyes became moist as the organist played the opening chords. She had last heard the hymn at her father's funeral in April.
Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
naught be all else to me, save that thou art -
thou my best thought, by day or by night;
waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.
Dr. Monica Quartermaine glanced across the aisle to the pew occupied by her parents, her brother, her niece, and the Chapparal County Social Worker whose presence allowed Serena to join her father for Sunday worship. She felt the silent vibration of her pager, made eye contact with her husband and then slipped from the pew and made her way out into the narthex to return the page to the hospital.
Be thou my wisdom, and thou my true word;
I ever with thee and thou with me, Lord.
Thou my great Father; thine own may I be,
thou in me dwelling and I one with thee.
Ned Ashton felt Carly's head drop onto his shoulder and extended his arm to wrap around her shoulders. He wondered how much of Carly's actions were for show and how much was actual vulnerability and the earliest fragment of trust. Their conversation on the walk to church suggested the latter.
Riches I heed not, nor vain, empty praise;
thou mine inheritance, now and always;
thou and thou only first in my heart,
high King of heaven, my treasure thou art.
Amy Elizabeth Morgan stood in between her boyfriend and her sister. She supposed that a shared faith was yet another thing to add to the list of reasons she and Craig were such a great match. Or at least Margaret Everett would add that to the list. In contrast, Amy feared that they actually shared very little because she had a hard time reconciling her faith against the reality of evil. Of course, that wasn't anything she was about to mention to the woman who hoped to become her mother in law.
High King of heaven, my victory won,
may I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
still be my vision, O Ruler of all.
Edward Quartermaine watched as his grandsons, Dylan Albert Quartermaine-Grabler and Kirk Edgar Quartermaine relit, then lifted their torches, and began their part of the coordinated recessional down the two center aisles of the church as the final hymn came to a close. It had been over twenty years since his first grandson, Edward Lawrence Ashton, had been part of the acolyte guild at Trinity Episcopal. He had brought that and the long lineage of Quartermaine acolytes up with Father Staunton and the man had merely reminded him that ritual had value only if it served to reinforce faith and consequent inspired works.
Blind faith had never been Edward's kind of faith. Trust but verify worked much better with his worldview, the way he ran his business, and even the way he tried to raise his children and grandchildren. His early morning conference call had certainly reminded him of the importance of the approach in business. The jury was still out on the method on a more personal level; although he had learned the hard way that it could be misinterpreted as a lack of trust or even as absence of care or love.
The recessional completed, Father Staunton stood at the back of the sanctuary, raised his arm and began to speak. "Go forth into the world this week in peace; be of good courage; hold fast that which is good; render to no one evil for evil. Love and serve the Lord, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit; and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with you always. Amen"
As refrains of amen echoed throughout the sanctuary Edward glanced to his right at his wife. "I'll leave you to invite Ned and Carly to join us for brunch. I need to catch Mark Everett since we canceled the finance committee meeting for this month," he suggested. Then he got up quickly to avoid his wife suggesting that perhaps Ned and Carly needed some time alone as newlyweds.
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Dr. Monica Quartermaine disconnected her cellphone in the narthex as parishioners started to walk out past. Apparently, her pulmonary embolus concern had been appropriate because the VQ Scan had been read as high probability.
"Since you're still standing here calmly, I'm guessing that wasn't a STEMI," Alan said when he joined her with Katelyn who had fallen asleep in his arms.
"No, radiology just wanted to let me know that the VQ scan on a patient was high probability, but I had started them on heparin last night when I went in for that STEMI so I just let Dr. Lambert know that the patient does indeed have a pulmonary embolus and it is imperative that the heparin drip remain therapeutic."
"Ok, good, or maybe not good for the patient but probably better than it getting missed and good that you aren't rushing back to the cath lab because father is busy inviting everyone for brunch," Alan said.
"Who is everyone?" Monica asked warily. Sunday Brunch with the Quartermaine extended family was pretty much the norm but she wasn't sure she wanted additional non family guests especially when she was possibly going to need to literally pry her niece away from her father to bring her home.
"Well, Ned and Carly and probably Chloe, Amy, and Craig Everett."
"Ned and Carly are family now and I sort of anticipated that Chloe might join us since she is only in town for a few more days. I can deal with all of those people, I could probably even deal with your father inviting Craig's parents or the Murdochs. I'm just not quite up to dealing with the Farnsworths or the Romeros, especially not with everything so up in the air with Scott and Serena."
"Yes, aside from the obvious one of these days we will have some say in exactly who we entertain in our own home, I know that today is a bit more difficult in general."
"I seem to recall that last year we vowed we would have some control over the guest list for the New Year's Eve Party. I am assigning that task to you, and now I am going to go check on my brother and niece. Could you find your younger son and make sure he put his acolyte robe away properly, please," Monica said as she started across the narthex to the east exit which opened into the church garden in the courtyard.
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As Alan started down the marble steps that led to the fellowship hall beneath the sanctuary, he remembered the conversation his wife was referring to. It was one he would always remember, because it was truly the beginning of real hope that they could, and would, get their marriage back on track.
December 31, 1996
Dr. Alan Quartermaine hung up the kitchen extension with a sigh after his conversation with one of the unfortunate nurses who had ended up with the New Year's Eve overnight shift in the surgical ICU at Port Charles General Hospital.
"Does that sigh mean you are about to abandon me to go back to the hospital or are you just looking forward to another exciting New Year's Eve with the Romeros?" Dr. Monica Quartermaine asked as she arranged canapés on a silver tray.
"The good news is that my patient's hematocrit is trending up so it looks promising that I will be kissing you at midnight not scrubbed in an OR at PCGH. The bad news is that not only did Father invite Simon Romero but somehow the Floyds were on the guest list as well," Alan said.
"Next year we're going to be less distracted and at least have some say in who comes to a party in our own home," Monica said.
Alan raised an eyebrow and then smiled at his wife. "Our home? You're sharing it with me now when did this change?"
Monica sent a stern look in his direction and Alan felt a bit remiss. He could see why his joke had fallen flat. The past few years had been hard on them and their marriage. Six months ago, he had accepted that perhaps he would just never be intimate with his wife again. He'd tried to accept that. She was an excellent mother and an amazing doctor. They could be colleagues and co-parents; it was better for their children and their colleagues if they didn't fight but, honestly, it had been lonely.
They had reached a point where their marriage was really in name only. Perhaps Dr. Pierce Dorman had sensed that. Although Alan really suspected the arrogant cardiologist was just brazen enough to not care about the vows that Monica had exchanged with him twenty-one years earlier. Monica had though and she had turned away from Pierce's advances and come home to him. She hadn't gone into details but Alan was afraid that perhaps Pierce had not been as accepting of her declination as she had led him to believe. He sensed that perhaps even a month later he hadn't really accepted that there was no way she would ever allow their relationship to become a sexual one.
"When I gave you this house it was a commitment to you and our family. It was with the hope that whatever happened somehow, when the dust cleared, we'd be standing together. Well, I'm not sure the dust is completely cleared and I know some of it has settled in ways we wish were different but I think we're standing together and we weren't really last year at this time so I think this is good."
"Alan, this may be my house, but I hope it will always be our home," Monica said.
"And hope springs eternal," Alan said as he took his wife into his arms.
Externally things had certainly deteriorated after their New Year's Eve conversation. Dr. Dorman had continued to harass and stalk Monica. When that had gotten him nowhere, he had attempted to file a sexual harassment claim. Fortunately, the investigating committee hadn't found any evidence of impropriety on Monica's part and the event had convinced Monica to finally agree to pursue a restraining order and press stalking charges. In retaliation, Dr. Dorman had sued the hospital. The court had found for the hospital and awarded Monica additional damages on her countersuit for harassment and slander. Port Charles General Hospital had revoked Dr. Dorman's privileges and they went back to court to renew the restraining order and Alan had started to believe the worst had been over. He had been wrong.
Unfortunately, security had never disabled Dr. Dorman's physician garage access after his privilege revocation. He had been lurking there with a loaded gun when Monica left after her morning cases to go help with the search for her niece who had been abducted from her preschool eight days earlier. Somehow his nephew Ned had been in the right place at a very wrong time and happened to witness the abduction. He called the police and even managed to follow the deranged Dr. Dorman to the Croydon Hotel. Recently returned PCPD Lieutenant Joseph Kelly managed to de-escalate the situation without casualty. Alan owed him and Ned both an immeasurable debt. He couldn't imagine life without his wife. Like everything, healing was a process, but he believed that they were paving their own path.
Katelyn was still fast asleep in his arms when he found his son and nephew in the large closet off of the choir room where the acolyte and choir robes were stored. "Your mother wanted me to make sure you were ok," he said when he joined them.
"We're fine, Chris Floyd needs to learn how to clean up after himself. Apparently, his parents never taught him," Kirk said.
Alan smiled. He supposed it was fitting that his son found Christopher Floyd almost as annoying as he and his wife found his parents. He also could imagine that neither Garrett nor Andrea Floyd had not taught their son simple tasks like hanging up his own acolyte robe because they had both made it clear on multiple occasions that those tasks were beneath them. "Sometimes it takes a village I suppose," he said.
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Maggie Carpenter stood at the edge of the church garden while Scott Baldwin sat on a bench with his daughter in the center of the courtyard. She was out of earshot of their conversation but from the visual cues and body language he seemed to be warm and loving and his daughter seemed comfortable with him. It was an intriguing concept but not one Maggie had ever known personally with her own father. She turned as she heard the door from the church atrium open and saw the blond woman who had been pointed out to her by Lee Baldwin as his daughter, Dr. Monica Quartermaine step outside. She had played the piano accompaniment for a flute and trumpet duet her daughters had played during the processional.
"Hi, I am Dr. Monica Quartermaine, I'm Scott's sister and Serena's aunt. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to speak to you earlier. When we put together the music ministry schedule, I had no idea how busy this weekend would be."
Her explanation was logical but almost too logical. Was she trying to express that she knew her brother would be arrested eventually? "Are you trying to say that you aren't really up to fostering your niece at this time?" Maggie asked.
"Of course not, if Serena can't be with her father she should at least be with family! I just meant that if I had known that all this would be happening, we would have chosen a different Sunday to provide processional music. My father thought that you might have some questions for me and then I will join Scott and Serena and pray that the transition is not as traumatic as I'm afraid it will be," Dr. Quartermaine said.
"Why would it be traumatic?" Maggie asked.
"I don't know how much background you were given but Serena's mother died shortly before her birth. My brother has raised her as a single dad. We're a close family but she is very attached to him. Don't misunderstand, I am not criticizing the decision to remove her while Scott is clearing his name, which he will. I understand that you have to make decisions from a global framework and you don't know that Scott could never, and would never, hurt a child. That said, if you've worked with children for any period, you must understand that any removal, even one where the parents might truly be abusive, can be upsetting to a child," Dr. Quartermaine said.
Maggie considered Dr. Quartermaine's explanation. She seemed confident that her brother was innocent but she wasn't defensive or angry. She wasn't sure if that was just more evidence that somewhere subconsciously, she believed he was truly guilty but couldn't face it, or if it was just that her years as a physician had a cultivated a calm, rational, detachment in a crisis. She decided to go with the latter and offer the benefit of the doubt.
Before Maggie could say more, she saw Scott Baldwin stand up and then reach for his daughter's hand. He led her across the courtyard and over to where they stood.
Scott Baldwin knelt down in front of his daughter. "I love you so much and I am going to miss you but you will be safe and loved with your aunt and uncle and all of your cool cousins."
"I will miss you more, daddy," Serena said.
The stoic smile on Serena's little face tugged at Maggie's heart. For half a second, she wondered if perhaps the Baldwins assertion that it was all a mistake actually had some merit.
"Bye applesauce," Scott said.
Serena flung her arms around her father. Quiet sobs seemed to emanate from the embrace. For a few minutes Scott hugged her and rubbed her back and then he picked her up, handed her to his sister, and quietly started back into the church.
Dr. Quartermaine wrapped the child in her arms. "I'm sorry, Serena, we're going to get this all straightened out, I promise. But in the meantime, Uncle Alan and I are here for you. Now, we should go home, and after brunch we're going to go on a hike at the state park. Doesn't that sound fun?" she whispered.
Serena picked her head up slightly from her aunt's shoulder and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You really promise?" she asked.
"Yes, I really promise, we aren't going to stop until you and your dad are back together," Dr. Quartermaine said.
Maggie tensed at Dr. Quartermaine's words. She didn't think anyone should promise reunification to a child. It seemed extremely unlikely if one considered that Serena's father had been with charged a Class B Violent felony. If convicted he could easily be in prison long past when Serena might have grown up, married, and even had her own children. Of course, she supposed all people, even accused child rapists, were innocent until proven guilty. Maybe Scott Baldwin really was innocent; Maggie decided for Serena's sake she hoped he was.