It was just getting dark when Carolyn Belden pulled into her own driveway at 1833 Lilac Drive. It had been a long and draining day with her grandson's funeral and burial. Then she had needed to take her younger son Adam, a fourth-year medical student at Mt. Sinai, to the train station so he could take the train back to the city. She had hoped for a quiet dinner with her husband but apparently, he was enroute to the OR at PCGH with some patient with penile trauma. Port Charles was far too small a city for her to know the details of that.
After pulling into the garage, turning off the ignition, and activating the garage door, Carolyn decided that if Arthur was really going to spend hours in the OR doing some complicated repair she was going to give into her own guilty pleasure and eat a tv dinner while watching a movie from her collection. Arthur hated those movies, so it was all working out. Except how could anything work out on a day where she buried her grandson?
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Dr. Julie Devlin was a bit surprised to see her boyfriend step off the elevator on 5 East as she was putting in admission orders for an adolescent with an asthma exacerbation. Internally she debated whether she thought it was sweet or overhanded that he was checking up on her and was left wondering if it could be both when he stopped in front of her.
"Hi Julie," Detective Frank Scanlon said.
"Hi Frank, I told you I'm fine, but if you insist on checking up on me, I hope you at least brought dinner," Julie said.
Frank appeared confused. "I truly came over here to interview a victim but, uhh, maybe when I finish up, I could bring back dinner," he said.
"Do you usually interview victims after your shift?" Julie asked.
"If I'm trying to avoid letting my partner traumatize them further, sure," Frank said.
"Maybe, you need a new partner," Julie said.
"Oh, I definitely do. At this point, I think that goes without saying, but as my mom would say, it is what it is," Frank said.
Julie considered the deeper meaning behind the cliché from Mary Scanlon's perspective. In a way it fit since she could imagine that much of her past twenty years had been about her reaction to events swirling around her and other's choices. Ironically for the first time she saw some parallels to her own mother. She hadn't really expected that, and it seemed like far too much to unpack in the middle of Pedatrics call so she instead asked, "What victim are you coming to interview?"
"Lark Madison," Frank said.
"Ok so she is in 5532 but I doubt she is going to be able to give you much information. The ultrasound didn't show a tubo-ovarian abscess, but she is still spiking fevers up to 103 so we probably need to get a CT in the morning," Julie said.
"Did any family show up?" Frank asked.
"As far as I know, no. I think her mother is still intubated in one of the ICUs and CPS assumed custody some time over the weekend," Julie said.
"Ok, so in that case, what do you think about dinner?" Frank said.
"I guess that depends on what you bring, and exactly how many more patients Dr. Larmon plans on admitting tonight," Julie said.
"So, how about ribs from Eli's and if you're super busy when I come back, I'll just leave them in the resident lounge," Frank suggested.
"That sounds good, thanks!" Julie said. She gave Frank a smile and tried to not to think about the parallels she was afraid she could draw from Lark Madison's life to her own life at age twelve.
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In the Lockup/Holding Unit in the Basement of the PCPD, Girolamo Palerno walked back into his cell like a model prisoner. It appeared that the PCPD had no idea of his ties to the De Rossi Crime Family and it was likely in his best interest to keep it that way. Back in his cell he sunk down onto his bunk and considered what role Marco Dane had played in his arrest. It was all far too convenient in his opinion.
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In his suite at the Port Charles Hotel, Trevor Lansing reviewed the notification from the current Chapparal County DA, Abigail Mitchell. She was presenting felony patronization of a minor to the grand jury on Wednesday because apparently the prostitute his client had been caught with was only twelve years old. That was bad, but he was afraid there was more. He had spotted her talking with DOJ Prosecutor, Abigail Donely Quartermaine, outside the Uncommon Grounds coffee shop. He had been on his way to Cetano's Bakery next door. Their hermits were about the only fond memory of Port Charles he held. That alone should have caused him to thwart Palerno's plan to take action in Port Charles. Except it hadn't because the plausible deniability and the potential to pin everything on the Corinthos Organization had trumped all of that. He had let it get personal and now he was going to need to work overtime to keep that from being his undoing. If only he could go back in time and just hold his own with Joe Augustino.
July 14, 1997
"You can't be serious, Joe!" Trevor Lansing chortled into the phone after Mancusi Family Underboss, Joseph Augustino laid out his request. Salvatore Mancusi was delusional if he believed his son's marriage to Anthony Zacchara's daughter constituted any kind of alliance between the Zacchara and Mancusi Families. Trevor usually took the man for smarter but why else would he think they owed him any kind of a favor?
"Salvatore said it wasn't a request," Joe Augustino offered.
Despite his bravado, Trevor heard the insecurity in the other man's voice. He laughed again. "Just hypothetically, what could possibly be in this for us?" he asked.
Joe Augustino chuckled. "If you aren't smart enough to figure that out then perhaps Salvatore has overestimated your intellect," he said.
Trevor bristled at the insult. For just a moment, he was back in 1960 trying to explain to his father, esteemed surgeon Dr. Arthur Lansing, how he had failed to secure a medical school acceptance for the second year in a row. "Or perhaps he overestimates his own importance," he said slyly.
"Suit yourself, just remember, turnabout is rarely fair play. Assets can quickly become liabilities," Joe Augustino said and then he abruptly disconnected the call.
The dial tone buzzed in Trevor's ear like an annoying gnat. As much as he didn't want to admit it there would be consequences for all organizations if Abigail Donely Quartermaine was able to prosecute Mancusi hitman Joey Lombardo. It was time for him to reach out to someone who did owe him a favor…Girolamo Palerno. He just needed to appropriately time his request.
In retrospect timing was everything. Or it could be. Palerno had decided that striking away from DC would distract from the ties to Lombardo and the Rome trial. Striking in Port Charles provided relative anonymity. Or it might have if he hadn't gotten arrested for solicitation the night before he was supposed to assassinate his victim. But he had so Trevor was back at square one, wishing he had just refused Mancusi's order. He had let that turn far too personal and had lost his objectivity. Those days had to be over. With that thought he signed the form that waived his client's right to testify before the grand jury. He didn't see Palerno doing himself any favors on the stand. He definitely didn't see Palerno doing him any favors on the stand so that would not be happening.
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Ned Ashton crept into his bedroom suite. If Carly had managed to fall asleep, he certainly didn't want to disturb her. Unfortunately, as he came through the sitting area into the bedroom, he saw that Carly still lay on her left side clutching a pillow, looking exhausted and uncomfortable but still very much awake. As he lowered himself down onto the bed and started rubbed expanding and contracting circles on her back, he wondered how he diplomatically conveyed to Dr. Meadows that Carly needed to be readmitted without making Carly feel like she was a burden. "Can I get you anything else, honey?" he asked instead.
Carly started to instinctively shake her head, but she stopped abruptly and then more tightly gripped the pillow.
Ned reached up and gave Carly's shoulder a squeeze. "You're still feeling dizzy?" he asked.
"It's not so bad if I don't move," Carly said.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Is the nausea any better?" Ned asked.
"Not really. I'm sorry," Carly said.
"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry you're so miserable. You feel warm again, I'm going to get you a cold cloth for your head," he said.
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As Ned laid the folded washcloth over her forehead, Carly struggled to take a deep breath. It was just all so hard. Her body felt unsteady, clammy, shaky and heavy as if each limb weighed one thousand pounds, her heart was racing, and her muscles ached. "What if I can't do this?" she finally asked the question aloud.
"Oh, honey, I am right here, and you are doing so great. Would you feel more comfortable in the hospital? I can call Dr. Meadows," Ned offered. He readjusted the cloth and then stroked her hair.
Carly debated that. If she went back to the hospital, it was likely she would bump into Tony again. She couldn't quite face that. "I think I will rest better here," she finally said. The reality was she likely wasn't going to be able to rest anywhere so she might as well not have to deal with Tony.
"Ok," Ned said. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'm right here, if you need anything," he added before he started rubbing her back again.
As Ned rubbed her back, Carly tried to just breathe which was so much harder than it should be.
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Dr. Monica Quartermaine sighed as she pulled the door to Emily's room closed. Four-sixths of their respective children and charges were asleep. Emily was whispering on the phone with Liz, which hopefully meant that Alan must have managed to get off the phone with Liz's grandmother who had called to discuss Sarah's feigned illness, and AJ had returned to his fraternity for the evening, so she was about to slip into a bathing suit and then the jacuzzi on the East Patio for a long overdue soak with her husband.
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Ned Ashton freshened the cold cloth on his wife's head and adjusted the sheet covering her. Even in sleep she appeared uncomfortable, and her breathing seemed even more labored if that was possible. "Oh Carly, I'm sorry you're so miserable. I am going to make sure you and the baby are taken care of. I promise," he said before he leaned down and gently kissed her cheek again.
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In the Quartermaine Jacuzzi by the outdoor pool on the East Patio, Dr. Alan Quartermaine pulled his wife into his arms and then laid her back against his chest. "This has definitely been a rough couple of days, perhaps even moreso for you," he said.
"Somehow, I think both Ned and Hugh Lars would dispute that," Monica said.
"Good point, and I know that ideally you wouldn't have admitted Marla to your service but I'm so glad you were able to be there for her," Alan conceded.
"I just kind of leapt into action out of habit, I guess. But the combination of Dr. Larmon in the ED and Dr. Devlin on call for Cardiology isn't a great one anyway"
"No, and that is another issue, but not one I have the energy to address tonight," Alan said.
"Then there is the issue that it can't really be considered a conflict of interest because we basically barely know Marla at all," Monica said a bit wistfully.
"I think that is also an issue I can't possibly address tonight but I agree with that as well. I'm not sure if that is Marla's issue or just more of the Quartermaines we eat our young, concept.
"I think it is some of both. Which brings us to the next Elephant in the room," Monica said.
"Dr. Tony Jones?" Alan asked.
"I was actually going to say Carly but sure, let's go there," Monica said.
"Unfortunately, I think Tony fits in the same category as Bennett and Roger not a problem we're solving tonight," Alan said.
"Ok, fair enough. So, Carly?" Monica asked.
"If this is your diplomatic way of suggesting I was being unfair before, I see that. You're right it isn't my place to judge, and Carly seems to be putting some pretty herculean effort into doing what she can for the baby," Alan admitted.
"I'm glad you see that and you're saying that because I think she and Ned definitely need all of our support. But that kind of brings the issue with Dr. Jones back to the forefront. I told you about the scene on L&D during her first admission and one of the nurses anonymously reported seeing him screaming at her last Monday. It seems like it was likely after her non-stress test while she was waiting for Ned to bring the car around," Monica said.
"Do you think that is why Dr. Meadows is trying so hard to keep her at home?" Alan asked.
"I think Dr. Meadows generally tries to manage as much outpatient as possible because she believes that bedrest increases clot risk without improving fetal outcomes. Unfortunately, in Carly's case, I think she is just too ill to be out of bed for any significant period. I was a little surprised Helene didn't just readmit her on Sunday when Ned called."
Alan had wondered about that himself. Carly had just looked scared, pale, and very ill at church on Sunday and even later at their home after church. "So, you anticipate that she will get readmitted for the third time tomorrow?"
"I would imagine so. I suspect Helene was hoping she would improve if given a little more time at home. Since Ned called AJ to take Simone back to the train station this afternoon because he didn't feel comfortable leaving Carly to do it himself, I doubt that happened."
"I was afraid of that. She definitely seems to be struggling, I know that bedrest is not evidence-based practice in obstetrics but as you pointed out when patients are too ill to get out of bed an escalation of care is needed."
Monica nodded. "I'm glad we're on the same page on this," she whispered.