Sex Diaries
Part Eighteen - Crazy From the Heart
By Miesque
miesque1973@msn.com

RATING: PG-13 (mild language)
SETTING: Season Seven (aka "Season of the Pod People") into Season Eight. Luka has long since broken up with Droopy
McHangdog (a.k.a., Abby Lockhart) and is Alone Again (naturally...)
CATEGORY: Luka Kovac/cast. Romantic/comedy/drama, vague spoof of 'Bridget Jones's Diary'...may be rather humorous, may be angsty, may end with a nuclear bomb wiping out all of Chicago...who knows?
ARCHIVE: If you must, but please inform author. :)
SPOILERS: For Season Seven and Wishful Thinking for Season Eight
PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Starter Pistols and Sex Diaries; Fishin' for the Runnin'; Heat Stroke; Grocery Store Cowboy;
Cheesecake and Whine; Times Of Your Life; I Want A Cave Man, I Want A Brave Man!; A Bigger Mousetrap; Bless Me,
Father; For I Am About to Sin; Out On A Ledge; Have An Egg Instead; Charity; The Devil Cuts Loose; Toads and
Falsehoods; Ready to Go; Saying Goodbye
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Ellen Hursh for editing and several 2AM brain-storming sessions. :)



25 August 2001

Unable to go to airport w/ Luka, as I must work double shift.
He came by hospital this AM and saw him talking w/ Dr.
Romano, who was saying something about 'hospital policy'
and handing Luka a cheque. Luka looked v. confused, but
nodded and muttered thanks.

He came over to me and waited 'til I was through with
patient. Asked me how I was doing.

"How am *I*? I'm just fine. How are you?"

"Holding up pretty well so far," he said. Stares at his feet for
a few moments, then looks up at me again. "Alexandra, I
really appreciate your help. My father was...very fond of
you." He looks like he wants to say something more, but
looks away. "I'll be back on the second...and...I'll miss you."

Heart bursting. He'll miss me. Blurt out "I'll miss you, too,"
and before I can stop myself I am hugging him v. tight. His
arms around my waist, squeezing me, head on my shoulder.
Then he kissed me on my forehead and backed away. Notice
that several of the nurses were watching us.

"I'll see you again soon, Alexandra."

"Yes."

He is gone. Feel bloody miserable.



The flight attendant had to shake Luka pretty hard to wake
him up-he had taken a Valium somewhere between Heathrow
and Roissy Charles de Gaulle airport and had fallen into a
deep sleep.

"Mr. Kovak?" she said, shaking him again. Jing-Mei was
already standing up, poking Luka in the arm.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head. He had been
dreaming about Alexandra again, which made him feel
vaguely guilty. Here he was, transporting his father's body
back home and he was having erotic dreams. Well, he
supposed as he got his carry-on bag down, it could be
worse. He could be having nightmares again. Not like having
dreams about Alexandra was unheard of or unnatural. And
that particular dream had been very pleasant...

The flight attendant was still staring at him, which was
unnerving. "Yes?"

"Oh...umm...never mind." She fumbled with her clipboard for
a moment. "I hope you enjoyed your flight, Mr. Kovak."

"Kovac," Luka corrected her. "And I don't know if I did or not,
as I was asleep the entire time." He shouldered the bag and
headed toward the exit, relieved to finally be off this damned
plane. The reason he'd taken the Valium had been so he
wouldn't be suffering from any kind of panic attack during the
flight. He'd take one before leaving O'Hare for La Guardia,
and another for the flight from New York to Heathrow. "But
thanks just the same."

Jing-Mei gave him a slight hug. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted."

"Yeah, me too. We've got an over-night stay here, so we
should try to find something to eat and then get to the hotel.
I wish I had taken a Valium, too."

"No...no you don't," Luka said, rubbing his stomach. Valium
did a great job of knocking him out, but it also had a way of
making his stomach extremely unhappy. He had a feeling
he'd be losing his dinner before the night was over.

"Come on. Let's get going."



26 August 2001

6:30AM Phone ringing. Fell out of bed, hitting head on edge
of table. Ouch, ouch, ouch. Almost cannot find phone, and
am too late. TAM getting it. Scramble into kitchen, holding
towel to bleeding forehead. Hear Luka's voice on recorder.

"...idiots left my father's body in Paris, so I have to fly back
and get it..."

I pick up phone. "They what?!"

"They left his body in Paris!" Luka is shouting over v. loud
noise in background. "It's not like it was a little suitcase or
something. It was a big damned coffin! Six and a half feet
long, blue-grey metal...kind of hard to miss." He says a v.
bad word and I hear more shouting. Hope he has not
attacked someone-would be v. unpleasant to have boyfriend
incarcerated in Croatian prison.

"I'm sorry, Luka. Is there anything I can do?"

"Perhaps you could send me an Uzi and some grenades?" he
growls.

"I don't think that'd be helpful," I remind him.

"Yeah, well...I'm just pissed. Need to vent a little. God,
makes me want to take up smoking again."

"I wouldn't recommend that."

He laughs bitterly. "Hey, you sound strange. What's wrong?"

"I hit my head."

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

Long silence. "I'll call you after the funeral," he says
suddenly. "Vidimo se." Loud shouting in Croatian, sounds v.
angry, then I hear a click.



According to Luka's rough calculations-he had always been
pretty good at math-he had spent approximately ten hours on
the telephone alone, arguing with French flight officials, then
another five hours making phone calls to various relatives in
Zagreb, explaining this unexpected delay. Going from French
to Croatian proved difficult for Luka's already over-taxed
brain, and by the time he left the airport he had a splitting
headache. Jing-Mei was quiet-apparently she knew better
than to try talking to him right now.

At first, the officials were apologetic about the mistake, to the
point of giving Luka free airline passage to any destination Air
France would take him, any time. But things went downhill
from there when they left the airport. The rental car had a
flat. They were stopped by the police because of some kind
of tail light problem. Lunch was a culinary debacle that Luka
looked forward to forgetting. Then they got to the hotel.

Luka had a rather unpleasant memory of himself standing at
the front desk of the Hotel George V, banging on a bell, with
Jing-Mei behind him, trying to placate him. "I've been up for
nineteen hours! I haven't eaten, I haven't shaved or
showered, and I smell bad. My father is *dead*, and his
body is lost somewhere here in Paris. And yet you're here,
asking me how I intend to pay for the goddamned room. I
can take being shot at. I can take people screaming at me. I
can take war, death, pestilence...but as God as my witness I
will not tolerate rudeness from a sniveling little Frenchman
whose idea of a great meal consists of garden slugs and stuff
that looks like it came out of a cow's nose..."

It took Jing-Mei ten minutes to get Luka to shut up and sit
down. Then she took charge, grabbing Luka's credit card and
getting luxury suites for them both, both paid for by an
extremely repentant Air France.

"Papa never got to visit Paris 'til now," Luka told Jing-Mei over
breakfast the next morning. "Perhaps they're taking him to
the Louvre-he always wanted to see the Mona Lisa." He
picked restlessly at his eggs and toast. "What's worse is that
we had to delay the funeral because of these jackasses. How
does one go about losing a coffin?"

"I'm not sure," Jing-Mei shook her head. She knew not to
agitate Luka too much right now. He was already in a sour
mood. "But you really should try to
be...more...uh...reasonable. Things like this happen. Ever
see 'Forget Paris'? Billy Crystal's father's body was
accidentally misplaced by the airline and..." She saw the look
on Luka's face, and ducked her head. "Shutting up now."

"Thank you."

"Luka, have I told you yet that I'm so sorry about your father?
I wish it hadn't happened so fast..."

"It's actually good that it did happen fast," Luka said
quietly. "We got to say everything that had to be said, and it
wasn't...drawn out. He got to die quietly and in relative
comfort. We got to say goodbye to each other, and I think we
forgave each other...or, rather, he forgave me. He didn't do
anything that needed forgiving."

"What did you do?"

"I got his grandchildren killed."

"That isn't true, Luka, and you know it."

"I moved them to Vukovar, didn't I?"

Jing-Mei sighed. "How many times do we have to tell you that
it wasn't your fault? You had no idea the war would come to
Vukovar..."

"That's true. But I could have gotten them out of Vukovar
when the siege began," Luka snapped. "It seems like
everybody I've ever loved-everybody I've ever touched-has
died. Good thing I didn't love Abby or she'd be dead right
now."

Jing-Mei clasped her hands together and watched her friend
carefully. "Luka, you punish yourself far too much."

"At least I apologized to her. At least we've forgiven each
other. She'll be a good doctor."

"Yes, she will."

"Now...now I just wonder if I should really...really try with
Alexandra."

"Want me to answer that?"

"I think I know your answer, Jing-Mei." Luka threw down his
napkin and signaled for the waiter.

"Try, dammit! Just try. It'll be worth it! I can't stand seeing
you so lonely, Luka. It's unnatural."

He shrugged. It was unnatural. Luka knew he was the sort
of man who needed a mate-someone to share his life with.
He didn't like being alone, even though he knew that for the
time being, it was for the best. He still had so much to sort
out. But he liked having Alexandra to talk to. Liked the sound
of her voice, the way she felt in his arms, the softness of her
skin, her kindness and warmth. Her kookiness, if that was a
word. She was far from perfect, but he was starting to
realize that she was perfect for him. And he missed her
more than anything. As much as he appreciated Jing-Mei's
presence, he wished it was Alexandra sitting across from him
now.

Luka pushed those thoughts away for now. He had a body to
collect and a funeral to arrange. He couldn't think about
Alexandra now. What he had to think about, instead, was
how to pretend he'd liked his dinner of snails... umm...
escargot. *Snails*. Yech. This particular dish *had* to
have involved a drunken bet between two French
chefs. "What's the most disgusting thing we can make
English snobs eat, just by giving it a French name?"

Jing-Mei saw the expression on his face as he looked down at
his plate. "You shouldn't have ordered those."

"I just pointed at number twelve on the menu," Luka
snapped. "I speak French all right, but I'm not good at
reading it, and it's too damned dark in here. Which is actually
a blessing, when you think about it. Not like I really want to
see this crap."

Jing-Mei snickered. "It could be worse, you know. It could be
steak tartar."

"Augh," Luka rolled his eyes. "That was awful, wasn't it?
Hiding chunks of that stuff in the salt shakers, in the creamer,
and in the butter dish."

"I swear, Luka, there's a little bit of a Mr. Bean in you."

"Can't help it," he laughed. "But at least I kept you
entertained."

"Luka, you always keep me entertained. That particular
night...I think I did literally bust a gut, laughing."

He smiled and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. "What
would I do without you, Jing-Mei?"

"Go crazy?"

"Too late. I'm already crazy."

"Crazy from the heart, Luka. Crazy from the heart."



The funeral gave Luka the willies. He remembered that day
nine years ago, standing beside the freshly dug graves of his
wife and children, snow blowing around him, his shoulders
hunched, dry-eyed. He had been in a state of shock then,
disbelieving, unable to comprehend what had happened. He
had expected to wake up at any time and see them again.
Marko jumping on the bed, Jasna racing around, hugging his
legs and chattering. Danijela in his arms again, her warm
body lying beside his...

But Luka glanced over and saw Jing-Mei standing beside him,
dressed in black, looking uncomfortable, wringing her hands
nervously. She had received several quizzical stares from his
relatives, and he knew what they were thinking. But that
wasn't important. What was important was watching his
father's coffin being lowered into that six-foot-deep hole.

The priest began the rite of committal, but Luka didn't listen.
Hundreds of memories flooded around him. His father
holding his hand as they watched the boats in the Dubrovnik
port, Andrej telling him stories about where each one was
going. Of being about three years old and being tossed up
into the air and not feeling in the least bit afraid, because his
Tata would catch him. He remembered riding the train with
Andrej, from Sibenik to Zagreb, running up and down through
the cars. Vedran had been the one who talked to everyone,
while Luka kept back, too shy to speak. It had always
frightened him, to be stared at, and the tourists had always
stared at him, especially as he'd aged. He recalled Andrej
telling him "People will always be staring at you,
Luka...especially women. Just get used to it." He had so
many happy memories of his childhood. He knew he was so
fortunate to have had such good, loving parents. So many
people had been far less lucky.

He was burying his father today.

The priest said his final words, and Luka watched as the
coffin was lowered into the ground. He took the handful of
dirt-taken from the old Kovac farm in Dalmatia-and tossed it
onto the casket. Jing-Mei touched his shoulder, and Luka
drew in his breath. He had held himself together pretty well
all day, but now he felt empty. Drained of all his strength.
But there was more to come.

The funeral party began breaking up. Luka spotted various
relatives, including his aunt Klaudija, a tall, thin woman whose
severe looks belied a warm, caring nature. She made her
way to Luka and stood in front of him for a moment.

"Luka, it has been too long," she said quietly. She looked at
Jing-Mei. "Is this your...uh...?"

"No. Jing-Mei is just a friend. A very good friend," Luka
explained.

"I wish the circumstances were better for you coming back,"
Klaudija said sadly. "But maybe now you will be staying?
Surely you will not be going back to America..."

"I'm going back," Luka said firmly. "I have a new life there."

Klaudija stared at Luka for a moment, dumbfounded, then
nodded. "Yes...yes. I suppose you do." She pursed her lips
and looked down at her hands. Then she looked back
up. "You have found someone, yes?"

Luka took a deep breath, then finally nodded. "Yes. I have."

"Good. It's good to know you're happy, Luka. When you
were here at Christmastime you looked so...shattered. Your
life is better now, yes?"

"Much better."

"Good." She touched his arm for a moment, then turned and
walked away.

"That wasn't so bad," Luka said softly. Jing-Mei studied him,
seeing how tired he looked. It concerned her a lot, to see
him so drained. But there was a light behind his eyes...he
*was* getting better. Today certainly wasn't his best day,
but Luka was certainly on the mend. He was at peace with
his life and the world around him.

"You ready to go back to the hotel? Maybe get some rest..?"

"Yeah." He didn't tell her that as soon as he was alone, he
was sure he'd break down. "I'm ready. Ready for
everything." He looked down at the coffin for a moment,
made the sign of the cross, and smiled. "Goodbye, Tata. I'll
be seeing you again some day. Not soon, I hope. But some
day."



28 August 2001

11:30PM Dreadful awful day. Seemed like everyone in
Chicago was sick. Did triage today w/ You Know Who and
half-way through shift his Gay Partner shows up and gives me
terrible fright, asking for him-dropped several charts w/ loud
crash and spilled my coffee on desk, ruining several papers.
He recognized me and became v. embarrassed. Flapped
about and could not think of what to say, would be horrified if
should I 'out' You Know Who (YKW), esp. since he apparently
has not outted himself.

Directed Gay Partner (named Steve Pierce...horrible of me to
think this, but perhaps they were right in "Steel Magnolias":
that many gay men are named either Steve or Bruce and
have track lighting...but that is TOTALLY untrue and am
chastising self for thinking that at all) to exam two, where
YKW was treating Mr. Littlejohn (how approp.), who hits on
anything with two legs and breasts. Had grabbed my ass four
times during H&P and I have had quite enough. Do not wish
to be groped by anyone but tall Croatian, who unfortunately is
several thousand miles away burying his father, so now I feel
horribly guilty for thinking Sexual Thoughts about said
Croatian, who after all is in mourning. Came home at 6PM
and drank a beer, waiting nervously for 'phone to ring.

11:45PM Feeding Jack and Diane tomatoes and watermelon,
which they greatly appreciate. Have been neglecting my
tortoises a lot lately. They sit (stand? crouch?) in my living
room, watching 'Late Show with David Letterman', eating
their supper. Harold the canary sits on my finger and eats
feed out of my hand and I feel miserable. Hooray, 'phone!

1:15AM Was Luka. So relieved to hear from him. The
funeral went off without much trouble, once body was
retrieved from Paris. Luka informs me that Andrej greatly
enjoyed the Indiana Jones et le Temple du Peril attraction, at
EuroDisney, before he took his last train ride through the
Dalmatian mountains.

The funeral took place at same church Luka attended as a
child, where he was confirmed. "I saw cousins I hadn't seen
in...decades," Luka told me. "Saw my three of my brother's
old girlfriends, and my mother's sister. The church was
damaged during the war, but most of the damage has been
repaired..."

There were several v. long silences between us, then he'd
ask, "Are you still there?" As if I'd hang up on him. "I'm
here."

He tells me he is staying at a hotel in Dubrovnik. "It's where I
went on my honeymoon, in fact. My parents, grandparents,
and great-grandparents all came here, too...I think my older
brother was conceived here. Kind of strange, really."
Another v. long silence. "Uh...I hope I can find something to
bring you."

"You don't have to bring me anything," I tell him. Just
yourself, please.

"I want to. And...uh...I just realized how late it must be for
you. Sorry to have kept you up so long."

"That's all right. I couldn't sleep anyway."

"Really? Why?"

The man is charmingly clueless. "Just couldn't sleep, that's
all. I was thinking about...about you and how difficult this
must be for you."

"It wasn't so bad, besides being hugged and nearly suffocated
by cousins. I was thinking about you, too."

"You were?"

"Of course."

"What were you thinking?" I ask, knowing immediately that
this is a bit risque.

"Uh...I was just thinking about...about our date."

"Really?"

"Yeah. About how...how good it was to kiss you."

Heart pounding v. hard now. "It was nice, wasn't it?"

"Very."

"Alexandra?"

"Yes?"

"It must be very late where you are right now, huh?"

"Yes. Almost one-thirty."

"I should let you go to bed."

"Oh. Yes. I suppose. I do have to be up tomorrow for
work..."

"I'm sorry I kept you up so late. I tend to forget the time
difference..."

"That's all right. I don't mind at all."

"Alexandra?"

"Yes?"

"I miss you."

Heart really pounding now. Feel a little woozy and light-
headed. Like I'll ever sleep tonight. "I miss you, Luka."

"Good bye."

"Good bye."

Ahhhh...

To be continued...