I realize the best part of love is the thinnest slice
And it don't count for much but I'm not letting go
I believe there's too much to believe in
So lift your eyes if you feel you can
Reach for a star and I'll show you a plan
I figured it out
What I needed was someone to show me
In the Versailles Room of the Port Charles Hotel, Dr. Alan Quartermaine led his wife onto the dance floor as a familiar tune by Air Supply started to play. As he took her into his arms and started an understated waltz he whispered, "I think they might be playing our song."
Dr. Monica Quartermaine offered her husband a coy but tired smile. "Yes, I can see why you might say that," she said.
They would celebrate twenty-two years in December. For better and for worse had played out quite literally over that time. Yet somehow, they were both still standing, and even standing together. As they waltzed the light caught the pink diamond ring on Monica's right hand. Alan remembered the day he had given the ring to her, or rather had it delivered by courier service. The latter had almost created a calculated disaster.
February 14, 1997
Dr. Alan Quartemaine took a deep breath as he walked into the PCGH physician's lounge at the end of another long day. He was surprised to see his wife going through the trash. "Umm Monica?" he began.
Monica mumbled something he couldn't quite understand and continued pawing.
Alan watched her for a few more moments as he wondered if she had lost a contact or something. But then he realized it couldn't be that because who would put a contact lens which they had fished from the trash back in their eye? "Can I help you find whatever you're looking for?" he finally asked.
Monica pulled a small black velvet box from the trash set it down on the table and began picking coffee cups and napkins from the floor.
"So, I guess you didn't like the ring," Alan said. He tried to couch the dejection in his voice. Maybe they really didn't know each other anymore. Maybe he should have taken Bobbie's advice on what to purchase but he had trusted his instincts. In medicine they rarely failed him. He had removed the lowest percentage of healthy appendices in the facility for ten years running. Plus, he didn't just knee jerk to the CT scan either like his residents seemed to always want to do. Yet, none of that seemed to help him when it came to his wife.
Finished picking up the trash, Monica peeled off her gloves, tossed them on the top of the barrel, and turned to face him. "Actually, I haven't seen the ring yet. If you must know, I thought it was a gift from Dr. Dorman."
"But then his flowers arrived and tipped you off."
"That and I ran into Bobbie," Monica said.
"Aaah yes it wouldn't be a gift giving event for us without Bobbie spilling the beans."
"In this case consider yourself fortunate. Had I not run into Bobbie when I did this gift would have been in the bottom of the trash compacter. Hector was just coming to collect the trash when I came in here. He's coming back after he makes the rest of his rounds," Monica said as she picked the box up off the table. Slowly she opened it and smiled. "Oh my!"
Alan smiled back. Maybe his instincts weren't so bad after all.
"I know it hasn't always been easy. Frankly it's been incredibly hard at different times, but I can't imagine doing this with anyone other than you," Alan said.
"We've certainly been through a lot, but I love you. I do!"
XXXXXXXX
You know you can't fool me
I've been loving you too long
It started so easy
You want to carry on
Lost in love and I don't know much
Was I thinking out loud
Fell out of touch
But I'm back on my feet
Eager to be what you wanted
Dr. Ryan Grabler wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulder and then reached for her hand. She looked exhausted; he knew she was concerned about Ned's wife and unborn child, but he was starting to be concerned about her. "How about if we call it a night? I know you haven't been sleeping well," he suggested.
"Ned said Carly was almost thirty-one weeks," Tracy said absently.
The comment wasn't as much of a non sequitur as it might seem. Their son Dylan had been born at thirty-three weeks after Tracy initially had pre-term labor at twenty-seven weeks. Back then they had still believed in pretty strict bedrest being a good thing, so Tracy had spent all of those six weeks actually in the hospital connected to monitors. That had made her vulnerable in a way Ryan had never seen her before, or since.
August 14, 1986
Dr. Ryan Grabler exited the stairwell on the second floor of the North Wing of Port Charles General Hospital and turned down the central corridor to the Labor & Delivery Unit. His wife had been admitted there almost three weeks earlier when she went into pre-term labor moments after finalizing the Archer divorce. That case had certainly taken a toll. Because Tracy appreciated the limits of confidentiality, she hadn't shared any details at home. However, from what had been covered in the press he suspected the case had reminded her of far too many painful memories of her time with her first husband, Lord Lawrence Ashton.
"How are you feeling?" Ryan asked when he stepped into Tracy's room.
"Defective," Tracy said a bit despondently. She didn't meet his eyes.
Ryan wasn't sure how to respond to that. He couldn't imagine what Tracy was going through, but every day gave their son a better chance at survival. On Monday she had reached the once seemingly elusive milestone of thirty weeks when retinopathy of prematurity and intraventricular hemorrhage risk seemed to drop almost precipitously. "Oh, Tracy, that just isn't true," he finally said.
"You know I hate it when people lie to me!"
Ryan sat down beside his wife's bed and took her hand. "Yes, but I'm not lying to you. You and the baby have both come so far. Dr. Lansing was even able to stop the Terbutaline infusion and the contractions haven't restarted," he said. Once the words were out, he realized that perhaps that was the issue. Had the contractions restarted?
"Tracy, did something happen?" Ryan asked with trepidation. He squeezed his wife's hand. Whatever it was they would get through it. He believed that so he needed to help her believe that.
"The baby is fine, or at least fine for now. Eventually though, I'm sure I will mess everything up for him like I did with his brother," Tracy said.
Ryan took a deep breath. By outside appearances it appeared that Tracy had done a fine job with her elder son. Three months earlier he had graduated at the top of his class from Ethan Allen Academy. He was about to head off to Duke University where he would play tennis and lacrosse. Unfortunately, beneath the surface, Ryan knew his wife still held a lot of guilt about sending Ned off to boarding school in the first place. Ironically from more recent conversations with his stepson he was starting to believe that Ned understood his mother's choices and didn't fault or resent them. "Again, I think even you know that isn't true," Ryan said.
"Isn't it? I'm supposed to be taking Ned to college this weekend. Fortunately, Alan is a better brother than I deserve so he's stepping in but even he can't fly out until early Monday morning because he has trauma call on Sunday."
"Which should actually work out pretty well since Ned got a noon-two slot for move into the dorms anyway, right?" Ryan asked.
Tracy raised an eyebrow. "He did? Well, I guess it's not like anyone told me that," she said.
"I think Ned was planning on coming tomorrow. He probably planned to bring all of his orientation materials then," Ryan suggested.
Tracy didn't say anything. Her eyes took on a distant experession.
Ryan gave her hand another squeeze. "I love you and we're going to get through all of this together, I promise," he said.
Tracy's eyes filled with tears. "I think I had post-partum depression after I had Ned. I couldn't do anything except for sleep. I thought I was exhausted and then after the divorce when Ned and I moved in with Mother and Daddy, Dr. Hardy was sure I had iron deficiency anemia. He prescribed iron and well Daddy reminded me I had a college fund not a trust fund and I guess I kind of pulled myself out of it. Or maybe I did," she said as her words gave way to sobs.
Ryan pulled his wife into his arms. "It's ok, Tracy, it's ok, if that is a problem when Dylan is born, we will get through it together," he said.
Ultimately the end of that pregnancy had been complicated by premature and prolonged rupture of membranes which had led to chorioamnionitis and sepsis. Tracy had labored with IV antibiotics and through chills and a high fever. After Dylan's birth she had remained septic and developed a deep pelvic abscess which had required CT guided drainage. Despite that, once the infection was under control, Tracy had been energetic, enthusiastic and completely enamored with their little fighter. Dylan had been a fighter too! He had only spent two weeks in the NICU.
"That is only a few weeks younger than Dylan was and look how well he did. I promise you, Tracy, we will get through this together," Ryan said.
XXXXXXXX
So lift your eyes if you feel you can
Reach for a star and I'll show you a plan
I figured it out
What I needed was someone to show me
You know you can't fool me
I've been loving you too long
It started so easy
You want to carry on
AJ Quartermaine refrained from rolling his eyes at the wink his father passed him as his parents waltzed past them.
"Your parents are really good at this. Did they take ballroom dancing?" his girlfriend, Keesha Ward asked.
"When my parents were our age, dancing only happened in ballrooms," AJ said.
Keesha laughed. "You know that isn't really true, right? Because my father is older than yours and he has at least a decade on your mother and he would dispute that," she said.
"Maybe that is just what Grandfather wants us to believe," AJ said.
"Our grandparents were connected through the blues, their Episcopal Faith, and I suppose in some ways the concept of humanity and equity so even that might be a hard sell," Keesha said.
"Suddenly I think I'm understanding why my grandfather likes you. If the social work thing doesn't work out, I'm sure we can find an opening in PR at ELQ," AJ said.
"I like your grandfather, but I think the sentiment comes across more genuinely if I'm not being paid," Keesha said with a smile.
AJ figured she had a point.
XXXXXXXX
Lost in love and I don't know much
Was I thinking out loud
Fell out of touch
But I'm back on my feet
Eager to be what you wanted
You know you can't fool me
I've been loving you too long
It started so easy
You want to carry on
Lost in love and I don't know much
Was I thinking out loud
Fell out of touch
But I'm back on my feet
Eager to be what you wanted
Now I'm lost, lost in love, lost in love, lost in love
Now I'm lost, lost in love, lost in love, lost in love
Lost in love, lost in love, lost in love
Lost in love, lost in love, lost in love
As the song came to an end and couples started to leave the dance floor, Hugh Lars Quartermaine was surprised at the way Marla seemed to cling to him. As much as he longed for things to be different, physical intimacy had really been lacking in their relationship over the past few years. But just as he was about to kiss his wife her body went completely limp in his arms. It was then he realized he didn't think she was even breathing.