A Family Matter
Part One - A Chance Encounter
By Martha Mills
martheeny@yahoo.com

Thanks also to Sharon, Debbie, Cathy and Ally for their invaluable feedback, encouragement and support. And to everyone else who sent along a kind message, or enjoyed this story.

Note: This story was somewhat inspired by a movie called "Liar’s Moon." I highly recommend it.

It had been a long shift. John Carter was getting his jacket from his locker and looking forward to a quiet evening alone. He had been staying with his grandmother since he was released from the hospital after the stabbing. Now that she was going to be out of town for three days, he could relax a bit, not having to worry about how to dodge her questions, or how to put her mind at ease about his mental status. "Gamma" had many strong qualities, but minding her own business wasn't one of them. John knew that he would have to get his own place soon. Very soon.

As he stepped out of the lounge, Haleh caught his attention. "Dr. Carter, I know you're on your way out the door, but there is a patient in curtain two with a nasty cut..."

He interrupted her, "Okay, fine. But then I am off." He grabbed the chart.

"You're always `off,' Dr. Carter," she grinned.

John gave Haleh a wry look. "There's nothing like having my own cheering section."

She sauntered on down the hall. "Mmmm-hmmmm. Whatever."

He noted the patient's name on the chart. Abbie Carmichael. Flashes of Dr. Abbie Keaton ran through his mind. John sighed heavily. What a long day.

Abbie Carmichael sat patiently, waiting for medical attention. Her mind wandered to the brief she had been working on in her hotel room, when she had dropped and shattered her water glass. While cleaning up the broken shards, she had accidentally sliced open the back of her hand. "This is just what I needed today," she thought. "A trip to the emergency room for stitches. What a long day.

Since arriving in Chicago a week ago on a three-month exchange program between the Chicago and New York City District Attorney's Offices, Abbie had finally started to feel somewhat comfortable in her new surroundings. Comfortable, that was, until she cut her hand and had to journey to the County General Emergency Room.

"Oh, Haleh, I owe you....I owe you.....I owe you," John thought to himself as he caught his first glance at the patient in curtain two. She had long black hair and eyes he knew he could swim in. The only imperfection he could see was a red gauze bandage wrapped around her hand...which snapped him back to reality, and the task at hand. He approached her.

He glanced at the chart he was holding. "Ms. Carmichael. I'm Dr. Carter. May I take a look at your hand?"

Abbie held it up as he unwrapped the bandage. "I think the bleeding has stopped. I don't know how I could be so clumsy." He examined her hand carefully. Their eyes locked, for a moment, and both knew that the attraction was mutual. "So am I ever going to play the violin again?" she joked.

"Hmmm. It's a clean, even cut. You'll be as good as new in no time. I just need to get some supplies, and I'll fix you right up. It shouldn't take more than ten stitches." He winked at her and walked out into the hall. It was then that she was aware of her heart pounding.

John made quick work of stitching Abbie's wound. He asked her the standard questions he'd ask all his patients when trying to distract them from an unpleasant procedure.

"So, what do you do for a living, Ms. Carmichael?"

"It's Abbie, please. I work for the District Attorney's office. In New York." She had a deep, sensual voice. She cleared her throat and said, "I'm a lawyer, but please don't hold it against me."

John smiled. "I'll try not to. My dad's a corporate attorney. I know the type." Hoping that didn't sound way too harsh, he tried to soften the conversation. "What are you doing in Chicago?" He was almost finished with the stitches, and was trying to think of a way to ask her to dinner. "Are you visiting family?"

"Oh, no. I was volunteered for an exchange program. I come out here for three months, compare our strategies and resources to those in Chicago. I go back with constructive ideas for improving our office. And our conviction rate."

He was listening, intently. In fact, he had finished with her hand. He realized he was staring at her.

Embarrassed, he picked up her chart. Scribbling some notes, he mumbled, "Okay, Abbie. Keep the stitches dry, and come back in about a week. Ask for me and I'll take them out for you." He handed her a card. "This has my cell phone number on it. If you have any questions, just call me." Again, he flashed her his "ladykiller" grin. He realized it was the first time in months he had even thought about flirting with anyone.

She looked at the card, looked up at him, and said, "I have a question, Dr. Carter. Where can a girl get a good meal around here?"

John had to do a double take. Did this beautiful woman just ask what he thought she asked? He mentally pulled his jaw up off the floor and took a leap of faith. "I could tell you, but it would be better to show you." He looked at his watch. "Well, how about that! It's the end of my shift. Are you hungry?" This time it was John who could feel his heart pounding.

Abbie thought again about the brief she needed to complete. The deadline was looming in her mind. Screw it, she thought. One thing was sure, it would be there later. Dr. Carter, however, might not. "Getting sewn up does give me quite an appetite....sure, let's go."

He beamed, "By the way, please call me John."

They ended up at Toque, a trendy eatery on West Randolph. John hoped he wasn't going overboard, that he wouldn't scare her off, but she seemed to be at ease and enjoying herself. He noticed that since they left the hospital, there hadn't been any awkward silences. They had lots in common. They were both Geminis. They both loved jazz. John was relieved that he slipped so easily back into the dating game.

Conversation drifted toward family. Abbie was born and raised in Quail, Texas. Small town. Good people. Her mom was a legal secretary. No brothers or sisters. Her parents had divorced when she was three, and she hadn't heard from her dad since. "Not that I care." She took a sip of her wine. "The only thing I ever got from him was my last name. And in Quail, it doesn't count for much. So I decided to rise above it. Being poor is a great motivator. I worked my hind-end off to get a law degree."

John was fascinated. He could only imagine what it would be like to grow up in those conditions. "How did you end up in New York? That's a long way from Texas."

She continued, "I had received a sizable grant to pay for my schooling, and there was enough left over after graduation to relocate. I took a train to Grand Central Station, got a small apartment, and started looking for a job. I had enough left over to live on for four months, give or take. Luckily, the D.A.'s office hired me after only two. And I love it, working for the `good guys.'" A connection zapped in her head. She laughed, "You know, that grant I mentioned? It was from an organization called the Carter Foundation. Funny, huh? You got any wads of cash there you're not telling me about?"

John's heart sank. He knew it was inevitable. She would find out his family was wealthy beyond imagination. She would think he was a spoiled rich kid. A Carter. The image burned in his mind. He took a deep breath. "Actually, I'm very familiar with the Carter Foundation. It's a family thing." He watched her face, waiting for her jaw to drop. Waiting for her eyes to narrow. Waiting for her to make some kind of excuse to leave.

Oddly, Abbie was still smiling. "No kidding? Are you really one of those Carters? What a small world we live in! I should really thank you, because if it weren't for that grant, I'd be a stenographer, or something, still stuck in Smalltown, USA. There is no way I could have gone to law school without it." She took another drink of her wine. "It's great that you can help people that need it."

John shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't have anything to do with me, really. My grandmother and my father are the administrators." He was embarrassed for the second time in her presence. "Can we change the subject? How's your dinner?"

Abbie sensed that she had hit a nerve, so she complied. "Delicious, thank you. You have excellent taste. And I don't know when I've had wine like this." It dawned on her that she was getting tipsy. And she knew that when she got tipsy, she got loose lips. Mental note, she thought, easy on the wine!

John saw her back to her hotel. Outside her door, they stood, close, each waiting for the other to say or do something. He took her hands in his, careful not to bother her injury, and very... slowly... eased... in... for... a ... kiss. Abbie closed her eyes and enjoyed it. Ooooh, Dr. Carter, you are a very good kisser, she thought.

"Thank you, so are you!" he whispered in her ear. She was mortified when she realized she had said out loud, rather than thought to herself, that he was a wonderful kisser.

"Too much wine," she muttered. But one look into his eyes, and she knew John was glad she had said it.

He still had her hands in his. He squeezed them ever-so-gently. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"I really have some work to catch up on. But I'll try to get it done early. What do you have in mind?" Work was the last thing she wanted to think about.

"Oh, I thought maybe dinner and a movie." Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes. He hoped his desperation wasn't showing. He squeezed her hands again.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Call me tomorrow, John." They kissed again, and she pulled back, opened the door.

"Thank you for dinner." Then the door was shut and she was gone.

He stood there for a good ten seconds, trying to regain his composure. Then he skipped down the hall of the hotel, happy for the first time in a long time.

END PART ONE.