Nothing Endures But Change
Part Ten
By Miesque
miesque48@hotmail.com
RATING: PG (rather unusual sexual references)
SETTING: End of S7...whatever.
CATEGORY: A Luka Kovac/Kerry Weaver Story (10/?) Humor/comfort/angst/romance
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Luka and Kerry. If I did, they would currently be married
and expecting their first baby. ;) Warner Bros., Amblin Entertainment, NBC and
several other guys in $uit$ do own them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
NOTE: I had originally selected a song called 'Innocent Journey' for the story, and as the title, but it sounded too romance novel-ish.
SONG: "Eight Days A Week", by The Beatles
SYNOPSIS: First impressions, girl talk, man-eating leopards, horrifying party tricks and
Luka attempting to eat a coffee cup.
SPOILERS: Maybe a hint or two of stuff that happened in S6, and hints of stuff seen in
spoilers and on the show for S7.
THANKS TO: My three wonderful friends (and editors) for constant and steady
encouragement. And thanks to Ellen Hursh for much-needed inspiration and suggestions
(particularly the glass eye anecdote).
Kerry was becoming a little nervous. Well, she supposed that was normal. She
had been nervous before meeting Ben's parents. A tiny red-head with a limp would
certainly be a little out of the ordinary for even the most open-minded future in-laws.
But now, Kerry was about to meet her second future father-in-law, and she wasn't
sure what he'd be like. She had various scenarios running around in her head.
He would be like Luka-sweet, gentle, a bit of an old fogey, incredibly
good-looking. Or he'd be Luka's opposite: outgoing, the kind of guy who says what
he's thinking and damn the consequences.
She was sitting at a table at a new, 'chic' restaurant (which meant that the prices on the
menu was directly proportional to the cost of the decorations), sipping water while she
waited for Luka, Dragan and Alicia. The first time she saw them, Kerry thought,
could very well be a heart-stopping moment.
Glancing up, she saw Luka threading his way through the maze of tables. He looked
down at her, expression unreadable. "They're on their way. And if Alicia
is a grandmother, I will eat that coffee cup." With that, he sat down and
grabbed a menu from a passing waiter.
Kerry gaped at Luka, stunned. He looked amazing-and, to her utter surprise, he was
wearing a light blue shirt instead of the customary darker tones...but what truly left her
breathless was how good he looked. Even on his best days, he had at least very tiny
bags under his eyes, and looked slightly pale beneath his olive skin. Today,
however, he looked rested. It was as if all the weight had been lifted off his
shoulders. What was going on?
"What happened to you?" she asked. "Did everything go well?"
"I'm not exactly thrilled about this," Luka answered, brushing his fingertips
against hers, re-establishing contact. "But...she's a nice woman. She's
very kind."
"Well, I'm even more curious now!" Kerry said. She straightened the
boat-necked collar of her dress, checked to make sure her jewelry was arranged correctly,
and glanced down at her little diamond engagement ring. Luka eyed her
contemplatively. She looked as lovely as a rose. Last night had been the first time
in quite a while that he'd slept alone, and he had missed Kerry something awful.
Waking up without her had been even worse. Was it any wonder he'd been in a
bad mood, right up until Alicia gave him those photographs?
"What?" she asked, realizing her was staring at her. "Is the dress
wrong?"
"Hardly. But it'd look better off..."
She giggled and resumed scanning the menu. A movement to her right caught her eye,
and she looked up. For a moment, she could have sworn Luka was coming toward her
again, except that this version had silver hair. She looked at her fiancé, then at
Dragan, astonished. The resemblance was almost frightening. Well, she thought,
at least I know Luka will age well. Not well. Spectacularly.
For a moment, Kerry barely even took note of Alicia, being so stunned by the sight of her
future father-in-law coming toward her. When she finally did examine the woman, she
was pleased to see an elegant beauty in a light peach-colored dress and real pearls.
It was as if she'd stepped out of 'Town and Country', except that she exuded warmth
and kindness. Not only that, observing just one glimpse between Alicia and Dragan
told Kerry that they were in for the long haul.
Luka stood up. "Papa, this is my fiancé, Kerry Weaver. Kerry, this is my
father...and his...uh...girlfriend, Alicia Barrington."
Dragan shook hands with Kerry, and Alicia did the same, smiling warmly at Kerry before
letting Dragan pull out her chair and help her sit. Kerry was amused by this. Not
only did Dragan look like Luka, but he had the same manners, the same dignified way of
carrying himself. Dragan had been a train conductor for more than thirty-five years, but
he had the regal bearing and manners of a king. Kerry smiled to herself. She
had always thought of Luka as something of a prince-albeit, not some effete European
layabout who only spoke to the common people to give them orders.
"It's so nice to meet you, Mr. Kovac," Kerry said, smiling across the table at
Dragan.
The older man studied her for a long time before speaking. "Thank you. So
you and Luka are getting married?"
Well, at least his English is fairly good. A bit stilted, perhaps. "Yes.
We are." She turned her gaze back to Luka, picked up a coffee cup and a
salt shaker, and handed it to him. He stuck his tongue out at her.
"Ah," Dragan answered, watching Luka contemplate the cup and shaker.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, no one knowing what to say. Finally, Alicia
cleared her throat. "What's with the coffee cup?"
"Nothing," Luka said.
Dragan picked up the menu and Luka stared at his father. He glanced across at Kerry,
who didn't appear to be upset by Dragan's rather brusque manner.
Kerry felt like she was being sized up, but she refused to allow it to hurt her feelings.
But she sure as hell wasn't going to be pushed around, even by the father of the
man she loved. She steeled herself, dug her heels into the carpet, and smiled.
"Mr. Kovac, Luka and I are very happy together. Just as you and Alicia
seem to be happy together...and I look forward to be being a member of your family."
Luka's attempt to kick Kerry in the ankle failed, and she smiled at Dragan, who stared at
her, wide-eyed. He had not been prepared for Kerry to speak to him that way.
Jadwiga had never talked back to him in any way. Who was this woman?
Dragan looked at Alicia, who studied Kerry, eyes sparkling with amusement. Finally,
she stood up, causing both men to rise, glasses and cups clinking together on the table.
"Gentleman, Kerry and I need to go to the ladies' room." She
glanced at Luka, smiling. "You know that women always do this in groups.
Kerry?"
Vastly relieved to be provided an escape, Kerry stood up. When Dragan saw her grab
her cuff crutch, he stared at her, eyes widening briefly before looking away. Kerry
felt a powerful urge to do what she often did with people who stared at her because of her
handicap but claimed it was no problem. She wanted to yell "Boo!" at him.
Actually, she just wanted to yell at him. But she saw Luka standing there,
looking stricken, his expression almost pleading with her to be calm. She smiled,
nodded, and crutched away behind Alicia.
"So you're from England?" Kerry said. She didn't need to use the bathroom,
so she just stared at her image in the mirror, checking her lipstick and wishing yet again
that she didn't look so pale. Luka told her every day that she looked beautiful, and
on some days she believed him. Today, however, under these circumstances...
"Yes, I am. West Riding, in fact. Where are you from?"
"I was born in Michigan," she answered. "But I grew up in
Africa."
"Africa? Really? Where?"
"Kenya. My parents were missionaries."
"Oh, what a small world! I spent almost every summer in Kenya as a child. My
uncle owned a safari company."
"Really? Which one?"
" 'Clarke's Guided Safaris and Expeditions'. It's because of my rather
eccentric uncle that I ended up writing tour books for a living."
"I remember that safari group!" Kerry said with a laugh. "There was
an old man from Boca Raton, Florida who didn't listen to the guide's instructions about
not leaving the camp after dark..."
Alicia giggled. "Yes. I believe Uncle Philip found him in a tree a few
days later...or, shall I say, what was left of him. I think all that remained were
dentures and prescription glasses."
Kerry sniggered slightly at the morbid story. "That was in all the newspapers,
along with warnings to the public to keep an eye out for leopards wearing pith helmets.
I hope your uncle came out of it okay."
"Oh, he did," Alicia giggled. "The old man just didn't follow
instructions." Alicia checked her makeup in the mirror. "Getting
Dragan to follow instructions is difficult enough. I've managed to get him on a good
diet, to exercise, but he still tries to eat 'no-no' foods and laze about on the couch
watching sports on the telly."
"Don't tell me...he's a bit stubborn?" Kerry smiled.
"Oh, yes. But they're wonderful men, aren't they? Mule-headed, but so
sweet...gentle, affectionate, totally guileless. Something of a dinosaur when it
comes to how a man should treat a woman, but then again...the world could use a few more
dinosaurs. If more men treated the women in their lives with that much respect and
deference, the feminist movement probably wouldn't have had so much of a following. Though
I'm sure Dragan will allow me to vote and work for a living!"
"Very true," Kerry agreed. "Luka is the ultimate dinosaur. He
won't let me carry anything, worries about me going into town alone, insists on walking me
to my door...it's wonderful. He's wonderful." She grinned.
"Don't tell him I said that, or he might start to get ideas."
"And they're totally clueless, aren't they?" Alicia laughed. "Can I
use a word like that? My son uses it all the time."
"Your son?"
"Yes. I have a son, Matthew."
Kerry wasn't sure if she should ask too many questions. Maybe that was Luka's
prerogative, but then again, Kerry was extremely curious. "How long were you
married?"
"Fourteen years," Alicia answered. "My husband died nine years
ago."
"Oh...I'm sorry." My God, Kerry thought. My husband died nine years
ago, Luka's wife died nine years ago. Nineteen-ninety-one was a rotten year.
"Yes, so am I," Alicia nodded, a bit of sadness clouding her cheerful blue eyes.
"But I never thought I'd find someone like Dragan. I mean, there I was
at the Dubrovnik Summer Festival, watching a production of 'Hamlet'...oh, you should have
seen it, Kerry! The lead actor was marvelous!...and I look over and see this
incredibly handsome gentleman. I thought he was about fifty or so. Had no idea
he'd be sixty-seven. And by the time I found out he was that 'old', it was too
late...I had fallen for him like a ton of bricks."
"Age is pretty relative," Kerry said with a shrug. "And love usually
doesn't take a hard look at how old you are." She laughed. "Unless
you're sixteen and claim you're in love with a fifty-year old three-times-divorced
ex-convict named Vinny. Then perhaps love should take a few therapy sessions."
Alicia nodded. "I think Dragan expected you to be...much younger. Just as Luka
expected me to be much older."
"I think he did, too."
"I take it you and Luka didn't have a chance to talk before this evening,"
Alicia grinned. "Otherwise, I'm sure he would have prepared you a little
better."
"We played phone tag all day today, but never managed to connect," Kerry sighed.
"Every time he'd call, I'd be in with a trauma, then there was a meeting I had
to attend...God...it was an awful day, and I have to admit, I was pretty nervous. I
am nervous. I was hoping to make a good impression..."
"I was having the same problem when I first met Luka. It's very hard, though,
isn't it? Joining a family. You have to make all kinds of adjustments, catch
on to all the inside jokes...but don't worry. Dragan just takes a while to adjust to new
things. I had to chase him 'til he caught me, you know. But with a Croatian
man, a lady does not actively pursue. It's always best to let him think he's the one
doing all the chasing. Otherwise, his heart isn't in it."
Kerry snickered. "I take it Dragan kissed you first?"
"You bet! One of the happiest moments of my life."
"I know the feeling," Kerry smiled. She remembered how hard her heart had
pounded when Luka had kissed her for the first time. Do strong, independent women
commonly swoon when kissed by a gorgeous, sweet, intelligent man? She didn't know
about other women, but she had wished she carried smelling salts.
"Kovac men are rather clueless, aren't they? It can be so frustrating
sometimes, getting them to act." Alicia was actually blushing now.
"So, when did you two...uh...oh..." she laughed. "Never mind.
None of my business."
"We haven't yet," Alicia answered with an enigmatic smile. "And it's
driving me crazy!"
Kerry was surprised to hear this bit of information. "Really? I...well, that is
a surprise."
"Well, Dragan is very old-fashioned." She eyed Kerry for a moment, and
smiled. "But I suppose Luka is a bit more...mmmm...modern?"
Kerry blushed. "We are engaged," she said, holding up her hand, showing
off the small diamond ring.
"Dragan didn't even kiss me 'til the sixth date," Alicia said. She checked
herself in the mirror, sighed and laughed at herself. "I was starting to think
he wasn't interested...that it was just bloody platonic, then one afternoon we got
stranded in a gazebo during a thunderstorm near Split...it was all very sweet and
romantic...and frustratingly chaste."
That made Kerry blush. She and Luka had made love in a gazebo during a thunderstorm.
Her knees had hurt a bit afterwards, but she hadn't minded. There had been
nothing chaste about their kisses that day. It still amazed her, how restrained and
tightly controlled Luka could be, and yet there was so much heat and passion burning just
beneath the surface. He smoldered.
"Luka kissed me for the first time while we were stuck in an elevator," she
explained. "Unfortunately, we were being filmed at the time...security cameras,
I mean. We put on quite a show, apparently."
Alicia giggled. "Oh, how embarrassing!"
"I was more embarrassed for Luka. His life has been so hard, I didn't want him
to be the brunt of jokes and rumors. But from what I can tell...I think everyone has
accepted it pretty well. The nurses all seem to be delighted about it, and since
they rule that ER... Now, I just hope Dragan will accept me."
"Kerry, one thing I know about the Kovac men, having met several of them now, is that
they have spines of iron and hearts of gold. Dragan...and I assume, Luka...is a stubborn,
hard-headed man who often has great difficulty with change. This is a momentary
bump, and Dragan'll accept you. I guarantee it."
Kerry hoped Alicia was right. The last thing she wanted-the very last thing-was to
be the cause of a rift between Luka and his father.
"So, you and Kerry are getting married?" Dragan asked. Luka had been
fiddling restlessly with a napkin ring. The sudden break in the silence surprised
him so much that the ring went flying into the air. Luka caught it and nervously put it
back on the table. It rolled away from him, but he wasn't fast enough to stop it and
it rolled off the table. Luka watched, wincing, as a tray-laden waiter just barely
avoided stepping on it before it disappeared under another table.
"Yes. We are," Luka breathed out. He turned his gaze on his father
for a moment, trying to read what his father was thinking. It was impossible,
though, as his own nerves were a bit jangled. Kerry and Alicia had been in the
ladies' room for quite a while. Probably giggling and critiquing each other's
hairdos, or building nuclear warheads, or whatever it was that women do in ladies' rooms.
Why did they always go in there in packs? What was the big deal? No
wonder the lines at the bathrooms at the movie theaters are always so long. Are they
afraid to go in there alone? What's in there?
"Stop fidgeting," Dragan reprimanded his son, watching as Luka began playing
with his napkin. Luka finally fixed his gaze on his father and waited.
"When are you getting married?" The older man watched as the waiter poured him
another cup of coffee.
"Uh...soon, I think."
"You and Jadwiga waited a full year before you married."
"That was because she was eighteen when I proposed," Luka answered sharply.
"And also because our parents insisted we wait a year. Kerry is not
eighteen, and I'm too old to waste time."
"How old is she?"
Luka's mouth twitched slightly. "She's a little younger than me."
"How 'little'?"
"A year or so."
"Does she have children?"
"No. She was married once though."
Dragan drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, looking around the restaurant.
He didn't like the place's decor very much. Odd angles everywhere, and
strange things hanging from the ceiling. The whole place reminded him of a
construction site. He wished he had a hardhat.
"Really? Divorced?"
"A widow."
The older man was surprised again. He hadn't quite expected that. He was
watching Luka carefully, gauging his expressions, his gestures. While Luka was talking
about Kerry, his eyes lit up and he looked genuinely happy and at peace. This,
Dragan knew, was a man in love. Now, all Dragan had to do was make one-hundred percent
sure Kerry felt the same way about Luka. He wanted his son to be happy-no one he
knew deserved it more. He would not condone any marriage for Luka that would not
bring him the kind of joy and contentment Jadwiga had so obviously brought him.
"So she is a doctor?"
"Yes. In fact, Papa, she's my boss in the ER."
"Your boss?" Dragan raised an eyebrow.
"In the ER," Luka countered, knowing exactly what Dragan was thinking.
"But at home...well, it's just...different. This isn't Croatia, Papa.
Kerry isn't Croatian. I can't expect her to behave like a Croatian woman...be
a housewife, that kind of thing..."
"Women in Croatia have more power than you think," Dragan answered.
"After all, 'the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world'. Remember
how your mother was? She raised two sons to treat women with respect. And she
got respect from her husband...that's how she left her mark on the world. Besides,
accomplishment is Mother Theresa. Fame is Madonna. There's a big
difference." He paused for a moment. "Elena was so proud of you and
Antin."
Luka looked down. "I was worried you were letting yourself forget her," he
admitted.
"I'll never forget Elena. Any more than you'll forget Jadwiga. Alicia
doesn't expect me to forget your mother. Any more than Kerry should expect you to
forget your wife. And...I can see you love Kerry."
"I do. She makes my life good."
Dragan nodded in agreement. "And Alicia makes my life good. I suppose
your mother was right. Life is about changes...nothing ever stays the same."
"And yet the two of us have never been good about change, have we?"
The older man chuckled. "They say we're old-fashioned."
"Sticks in the mud," Luka countered, raising his glass in a mock toast.
"Dinosaurs," Dragan muttered. "Alicia calls me a dinosaur all the
time. But I can't see how that's a bad thing. Women are always saying they
want us to respect them and treat them well, yet when we do, we're called dinosaurs!
Sometimes, I wish they'd make up their minds."
Luka chuckled. "Kerry is getting used to it." He shook his head.
"Though it does cause a few conflicts at home sometimes. But at least
it's never boring."
"Are you living with her?"
"Sort of," Luka hedged. "But you and Alicia have been together for a
year now..."
"We don't live together, though." There was a slight tone of disapproval
in Dragan's voice, but Luka decided to let that slide.
"But you do...I mean...you are...? Oh, God, never mind." He pinched
the bridge of his nose, between his eyes, warding off a sudden headache.
Dragan glared at Luka. "Alicia and I are taking this...slowly. Surely you
noticed that I slept on the couch last night, Luka."
"No, I didn't notice. I was too busy eating my Cheerios and trying not to have
a stroke. It's not like I was gonna check the guest bedroom...if I had seen the two
of you..." He winced, closing his eyes tightly. He had warmed to Alicia,
and was coming to terms with the idea, but he was still in mild shock over the entire
thing. "Remember when I was five and I walked in on you and Mom?"
Dragan put his head down, hiding his smile.
"I asked you what you were doing, and you claimed you were changing the lightbulb.
And so I ask, 'Why are you naked?' And, if I recall correctly, you claimed
you were naked so that in case there was a spark, your clothes wouldn't catch on fire.
'Safety, son, safety,' you said."
"You were just a child. You wouldn't have understood the truth."
"I'm fairly certain I wouldn't have wanted to understand. I sure didn't want to
understand five years later, when I realized what was really going on. But I ended
up with a complex about lightbulbs for three years, Papa! Or don't you recall that
time we were at the parish priest's house for dinner and the light burned out and I
reminded him to take off all his clothes before he changed it?"
Dragan couldn't keep from laughing now. "Luka, parents lie to their kids all
the time. I mean, would you have preferred the truth at the time?"
"I know, I know. You've been messing with my mind all my life," Luka
chuckled. "Papa, you'll like Kerry. Give her a chance, okay? She's
a wonderful woman, and I love her. She loves me. She makes me happy."
Dragan clapped his son on the shoulder and grinned. "Well, if you put it that
way...I just want you to understand my feelings on this, Luka. I want you to be happy.
I need to know that you're okay, that someone's taking good care of you. You
were never good at being alone...the Kovac men never were good by themselves."
"Yes, I know," Luka answered, snickering. "Remember that time you
accidentally left me alone at that petrol station?"
"Oh, dear God, don't remind me. Your mother never let me live that one
down."
"Of course, there was that other time, when you left her standing in the middle of a
street in Madrid. In a rough neighborhood, at that."
"Now that was an accident. Both incidents were accidents. I thought she
had climbed into the back seat...and we had been arguing, if you recall. I heard the
door close and was sure she was back there."
"For years, Antin and I always got very nervous whenever Mom got out of the
car."
Dragan burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Are you and
Kerry...uh...well...you know."
"Papa!"
"Well, I just wanted to know. You and Jadwiga never..."
"Oh, we gave it a few valiant tries, Papa. Just that her father was always
hovering nearby with a pistol and a shovel, claiming that, and I'm quoting him directly,
'Nobody would miss you'. But you're right. We never did, before we got married.
But it's different now. I'm not going to wait around. I'm tired of
waiting. I proposed to Jadwiga three months after our first date, and would have
married her the next day had it not been for our respective families insisting on a long
engagement and all the banns and announcements and dinners and breakfasts and...good God,
I think I gained ten pounds prior to the wedding. Kerry and I have only been
together for three months now, but we know we're in this for the...how do you put it?
Long haul? We aren't going to waste time...oh, hi, Kerry."
Kerry and Alicia had returned at last. The two men stood up, and Kerry eyed Luka
with interest.
"What are you two talking about?" Kerry asked as Luka helped her into her seat.
"Lightbulbs," Dragan said, smiling mischievously at Kerry, who instinctively
smiled back, though the reference was lost on her.
Kerry and Alicia looked at each other, intrigued, and shrugged.
"I remember him vaguely. He had a very interesting talent, didn't he?"
"Yes, indeed," Alicia smiled. "He was the king of practical
jokes."
"My mother told me about something he did at a dinner party...should I tell the
boys?"
The two women glanced at Luka and Dragan, who were sitting there, digging resolutely
through their respective meals. Considering how overcooked his steak was, Luka
figured he'd have better luck eating the coffee cup. He was contemplating asking the
waiter for a blow torch. He didn't even glance up.
"Tell us what?" Dragan asked, giving up on his veal parmesan and pushing the
dish away. He could taste the unhappiness of the animal in every bite.
"About my Uncle Philip Clarke."
Dragan glanced at his son. Luka was well-known for his rather uncertain stomach.
But he nodded to Kerry, who grinned.
"Philip liked to demonstrate his talents in somewhat inappropriate fashions
sometimes," Kerry explained. "One evening, at a dinner party, he took out
his glass eye and put it in Sir Charles Griffith's drink."
"Caused quite a brou-haha, if I remember correctly," Alicia said. "I
never would have thought Sir Charles screamed like a girl, but...you know, Philip had a
whole collection of glass eyes for any occasion. Blood-shot eyes for when he was having a
hangover..."
"Enough!" Luka interrupted. He was already turning green. "He
put his glass eye in...?" He tried to swallow the broiled shoe he was
attempting to eat, but almost choked.
"I think I'd do a bit of screaming myself, if someone put a glass eye in my
whiskey," Dragan said dryly. Having already heard this story, he rolled his
eyes and handed Luka his glass of water.
"Here, drink."
"Something stronger!" Luka gasped. "Eighty-six this steak. I
want a double Jack Daniels on the rocks!"
"So what do you do for a living?" Luka asked Alicia. They were dancing-or
attempting to dance-to some rather disjointed music that went right along with the
restaurant decor. Luka glanced across and saw Dragan and Kerry dancing, too.
He was instinctively supporting the much shorter woman so that she put little
pressure on her bad leg. That made Luka smile.
"I write travel books. I've been everywhere."
"So you were at the Dubrovnik Summer Festival for...?"
"Updating travel guide books for 2001 editions...they're coming out in the spring.
The war having ended and Croatia rebuilding, we thought it'd be a good idea to give
the country a much-needed lift amongst tourists. I was snapping pictures of
everything, writing anecdotes about the people I met and the things I saw...it's a
beautiful country. I met up with some good friends of mine who had always summered
at Dubrovnik, and so we all went to the Festival to see if things were much changed.
The exhibitions were just as beautiful, the artists just as talented...even more
so. And the production of 'Hamlet' was out of this world. The young man...oh
dear, I can't recall his name after drinking this much wine!...was amazing, and it was a
sold-out performance. His final as the Melancholy Dane, I think. And I must
say, Shakespeare translates beautifully into Croatian. Some snooty little purist at
Oxford can argue all he likes, but it was amazing."
Luka had only attended the Summer Festival once, and he'd spent much of his time staring
into the depths of Jadwiga's eyes, so he had little memory of the art exhibitions or
performances. He did remember seeing a metal sculpture of something that looked like
a bicycle that had been run over several times by a very determined locomotive, and
marveling at the absurdity of government-sponsored 'art'. As if Luka would willingly
give his money over to pay for some nutjob to stand on a stage wearing nothing but a
lampshade on his head and talk about the impact of global warming on the world's rain
forests. A friend of his had gone to one of the Festival exhibitions and had bought
a God-awful sculpture of some weird-shaped thing with holes in it, and all Luka recalled
of it was the fact that his brother Antin's dog had taken an intense dislike to it-sitting
in front of it for hours and snarling. That dog, at least, had taste.
"How did you learn Croatian?" Luka asked. Dragan and Kerry were chatting
quietly, and Luka breathed a sigh of relief.
"I studied the language at university," she explained. "When I was a
girl, I discovered that I had a Croatian ancestor...Milos Kuprejanov...and was utterly
fascinated."
"Mmmm...I knew a Filip Kuprejanov...didn't like him much."
Alicia laughed. "I was quite a shock to you, wasn't I, Luka?" she asked,
meeting his gaze without flinching.
"I'll admit, I wasn't too happy about it. But...Papa seems happy with you, and
you seem to love him, so..."
"I do love him, Luka."
"Good. Then it's settled, huh?"
She nodded.
"Now...any guesses what this song is they're playing?" he asked, tilting his
head slightly, trying to pick up a tune. Or even a real note.
"I'm not entirely sure it's music. Sounds like a piano being tuned."
"So do you love my son?" Dragan asked Kerry.
"Yes. I do," Kerry answered directly.
"You'll make him happy...make sure he's okay? He has depression...he's always
been very...what's the word?"
"I know." Kerry drew in her breath slowly. Sensitive was
the word. "And I have no illusions about his situation. I used to think
people should suck up their pain and move on. But I don't believe that any more.
Nobody's made of steel. We're all breakable."
"You seem to have some steel in you," Dragan admitted. "I wouldn't
let Luka marry a shrinking violet. He's my son. I want the best for him. I
think you understand that...I can't help it."
"I am no shrinking violet, Mr. Kovac"
"Good. Then it's settled. You seem to have what it takes to live with a
Kovac." Dragan looked down at her, right into her eyes. "Welcome to
the family, Kerry. And you can call me Dragan."
"Now," Luka was saying as Kerry entered the exam room. She had come in on
the pretext of looking for some latex gloves, but really to get a chance to talk to him
for a minute. "The important thing about changing a baby boy is to remember to
always point it south."
She couldn't resist. His back was to her, so she peered around his shoulder and saw
that he was in the process of changing the diaper on a newborn baby boy. Luka indeed
had 'it' pointed south, and was deftly-even gracefully-putting a new diaper on the baby.
A young couple was standing on the other side of the gurney, and Kerry quickly
assessed that they were both slightly mentally handicapped. Luka, however, was
chatting with them as though they were perfectly normal, keeping his voice modulated,
never condescending to them in the least.
Having showed them how to change the diaper, Luka scooped the baby up, smiling slightly.
He knew Kerry was standing beside him, and he glanced briefly at her.
"It's really like riding a bicycle. Well, a bicycle that is sometimes
wet, noisy and smells terrible."
"Thank you, Dr. Kovac," the father-Mike-said. Kerry smiled at the young
man, remembering the stories Luka had told her about his kids, and about his mother's
'parenting tests'. The couple collected their baby and quietly headed back toward
the elevators and the maternity ward.
"What were they doing down here?"
"I delivered that baby six hours ago, here in the ER," Luka explained.
"It was a pretty cut and dry delivery. And thank God for that, 'cause
the girl was terrified, and the father was in a total panic...they don't look old enough
to be parents, do they?"
"I've seen fourteen year olds become parents. I take it, however, that these
two have a support system of some kind?"
"Yeah. Both sets of grandparents will be spoiling that kid rotten for the next
eighteen years. I met them-they're very good people. And that baby has two
parents that love him and each other. You can't hope for much better than
that."
Kerry smiled, looking up at Luka, who was washing his hands in the sink. A shadow
had fallen across his face, but he looked at her and smiled. "It's all
right."
"I'll bet you were a wonderful Daddy."
"I was pretty damned good at it, I'll admit. We didn't get a chance to make
that many mistakes, though."
Kerry nodded, and Luka continued. "Marko had G.I. Joe figurines...hundreds of
them. He'd have them all over the house...the place usually looked like the beaches
of Normandy. He was only...only three at the time, so Jadwiga and I would pick them
up most of the time. Well, once we noticed that the bucket of soldiers wasn't
getting full any more. We forgot about that for a while, though, until one day when
I was helping her clean the kitchen. We moved the stove out away from the wall and
found a whole bunch of G.I. Joe figures. The cat had been playing with them, too,
and would knock them under the stove. It was a G.I. Joe prisoner-of-war camp."
Luka splashed some cool water on his face, wiping dry with a towel Kerry snatched
up for him.
The bittersweet memories that conjured up for Luka made him stop for a moment, his
expression distant, but he smiled at Kerry, who was watching him carefully.
"How are you doing, Luka?" she asked him softly.
"Okay." He looked like he was going to ask her something, but stopped
himself. Kerry noticed this, but instinctively knew that she shouldn't press the
issue. He would talk about it in his own time.
"Really?"
"Well, not perfect. The last couple of days haven't been easy, after all.
But I'm doing better than I would have had all this been happening last year.
Besides, I have you."
Kerry blushed, smiling. "Hey, are you getting off soon? Maybe we could
have dinner somewhere... somewhere better than that restaurant last evening. From
the rather off-color language you used, I surmised that you were not impressed with your
steak."
"I think it was actually a broiled workboot. But dinner'd be great," he
nodded. "I get off at six. How about you?"
"I get off at five," she answered. "That'll give me time to change
into something a little more... uh... appropriate."
"This isn't one of those theme restaurants, is it? I will not wear
leiderhosen."
She giggled and kissed him on the cheek. "It's not a theme restaurant.
Though, to tell you the truth, I think you could make liederhosen look dead
sexy."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm too sexy for my traditional Bavarian costume," he
dead-panned, parodying the infamous Right Said Fred song.
"Well," she said, looking contemplative. "I can agree there.
You are too sexy for most of your clothes. No wonder I prefer that you be in
the..."
The door opened and John Carter came into the exam room. He barely glanced at Kerry
and Luka.
"...must remember that hospital policy stipulates that you follow direct procedure
regarding intubations."
Luka was perfectly on cue. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down at
her. "I can understand your point of view, but..."
Carter grabbed a box of tongue depressors and left. Kerry went right back to what
she was saying before they were interrupted. "...buff."
"Buff?" Luka grinned. "Kerry, you have a dirty, dirty mind."
"Just you wait and see," she winked, and Luka shook his head, rolling his eyes
slightly. "I'll pick you up at six."
Kerry usually found Luka's driving to be terrifying. Tonight, however, he was
obeying most traffic laws, except that he was flipping through his CD collection, keeping
one eye on the road. Finally, he found the disc he wanted, slipped it in, and
shuffled to the particular song he wanted. Kerry was startled when he started
singing along, and before she knew it, she was singing, too, clapping her hands to the
familiar music. His singing voice wouldn't get him any recording contracts, but
neither would hers, and yet both blended perfectly as they sang.
She had always regarded this as one of those 'soundtrack of my life' kinds of songs.
This one had always made her feel young and happy. Ah, innocence. A song
recorded before the sheer insanity of the 1960's took over. Before John Lennon met
Yoko and became even weirder than he was in the first place; before Paul McCartney was
taken over by the Pod People, Ringo Starr made "Cave Man", and George Harrison
started inflicting sitar music on an unsuspecting populace.
Ooo I need your love, babe
Guess you know it's true
Hope you need my love babe
Just like I need you
Hold me, love me, hold me, love me
I ain't got nothing but love, babe
Eight days a week
Love you every day, girl
Always on my mind
One thing I can say, girl
Love you all the time
Hold me, love me, hold me, love me
I ain't got nothing but love, girl
Eight days a week
Eight days a week
I love you
Eight days a week
Is not enough to show I care
Ooo I need your love, babe
Guess you know it's true
Hope you need my love babe
Just like I need you
Hold me, love me, hold me, love me
I ain't got nothing but love, babe
Eight days a week
Love you every day, girl
Always on my mind
One thing I can say girl
Love you all the time
Hold me, love me, hold me, love me
I ain't got nothing but love, babe
Eight days a week
Eight days a week
Eight days a week
"Luka," Kerry said, laughing, having truly enjoyed herself. "You are
a true original."
TO BE CONTINUED...
--
Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.
~P.J. O'Rourke, "Parlaiment of Whores"
You can't have everything. Where would you put it?
~Stephen Wright
Eclipse, all nags compared to thee
Excite contempt and laughter
There never was a horse, I do believe
So much run after.
~18th century English doggerel
