Strangely enough, Luka doesn't figure a great deal in this chapter.
Alexandra just kinda took over for this one.  :)

TITLE: New Year's Dissolutions
AUTHOR: Miesque
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; Crazy From the Heart; Danger;
Forty Black Balloons; Partied Out; Young Men Coming Aus; Price Check;
Going Once...; Check, Please; Eighteen Patients and a Dozen Roses;
Life Is Good; A Handful of Pebbles; The Horror...the Horror; Gumballs
and Gurneys; It's Not the Flu; Thud; Hvratska and Cymru Celebrate
Christmas; Snow Business
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Ellen Hursh for editing and several 2AM
brain-storming sessions.  :)



31 December 2001

7:45PM  After six hour shift (!!!) am attending New Year's Party at
Mark and Elizabeth's.  Before I leave, however, I am going to write
out list of New Year's resolutions, of which I have many:


WILL:

Become an attending in ER

Be beautiful, radiant bride at wedding (set for 23 February) and not
throw up on priest halfway through ceremony, like cousin Frances did
at her wedding (she was only nervous, not pregnant)

Be tasteful in decorating schemes (no lava lamps, cardboard cutouts of
film stars, velvet paintings of Elvis, disgustingly pretentious
paintings of strange gray shapes by obscure Danish artists named Lars,
etc.).  Shall instead make entire flat look like Laura Ashley and
Calvin Klein live here and are visited daily by photographers from
'Architectural Digest'.

See to it that Luka is well fed and happy

Learn to cook, or at least to make meals that will not kill anyone.

Stop worrying about exploded factories in distant lands.

Donate more time/money to charitable foundations like Red Cross, March
of Dimes, etc.

Be kind, helpful, caring and sympathetic, even to people I don't
necessarily like.

Be Responsible for Self.

Be less inclined to whine when things do not go my way.

Behave in demure and genteel manner in Public and like a slut in bed
w/ Luka.  Latter resolution much easier to keep than former.

Become an American citizen.  Have decided I shall give up British
citizenship.  Announcement of this fact to family will definitely be
interesting.  Rather like when cousin Julian announced he was gay.

Drink less, perhaps none at all (not that I am drinking now...just a
statement of intent for after babies are born)

Maintain smoke-free lifestyle, as is v. good for self and babies.

Have healthy babies.

Be good wife.

Be good mother.

Start taking some sort of medication (non-harmful to unborn babies) to
improve both memory
*and* temperament.

Watch less television that depresses me (e.g., Martha Stewart, who
makes me feel guilty because I cannot arrange flowers, cook, keep
potted plants alive, make covers fit on chairs, or hang curtains).

Learn how to speak Croatian.

Be more diligent about writing thank you notes, sending get
well/birthday/anniversary etc. cards.

Wear tasteful but nice clothes that make me look like respectable wife
and mother and not like The Tramp Who Ate Chicago.

Call Mum and Dad more often and not yell at them.

Call Alice and Johnny more often and not snipe at them.

Pay my portion of phone bills.

Get CDs in order and make master tapes of favourite music for when
feeling happy/blue/sick/
sexy/bloated/angsty/angry/dyspeptic/charming/PMS-psychotic (when
informed Luka of this particular intention, he told me the labels on
the tapes should be quite interesting).

Clean out Jane's flat and have it in perfect condition for when she
returns home in March.

Put Jakko in obedience classes, unless Luka kills him first.

Learn how to be patient, classy, kind, warm-hearted, generous and
altogether perfect person.

Learn how to face reality.


WILL NOT:


Complain because Luka is five minutes late coming home from work.

Whine incessantly about stupid bastard Tony Blair and entire Labour
Party in general (still hope they are all bitten by rabid foxes).

Gamble money away on horses.

Make references to British football players and cause everyone to
stare at me as though I am insane.  Mentioned Will Carling to Dr.
Weaver yesterday and she thought he was a jazz musician.

Eat or drink anything that will cause weight gain, bad breath or
stupid behavior.

Be impatient and bitchy when I begin to grow larger due to pregnancy
(who am I kidding?).

Be psychotic bitch during labour (again, who am I kidding?).

Purchase Great Classics of Literature, as I never read them.

Read 'Cosmo' magazine 'Is He the One For You?' tests any more.

Neglect my teeth.

Pick ridiculous names like Nigel, Mothra, or Moondripper for
childrens' names, despite suggestions of that sort from Dr. Malucci
(who is currently Doing the Dirty w/ Steve...bloody hell, they forgot
to put blinds down again!).

Forget to feed dog, turtles and canary, all of which live here in our
little menagerie at Luka's.  Forgot to feed Jakko yesterday and
suddenly Luka had small furry creature gnawing on his leg.

Become angry when cannot connect to internet.

Forget to clean up after animals before Luka arrives home.  He is
sweet, patient man but is not tolerant of the 'evidence' of their
existence and I suppose that he is not being v. unreasonable in
demanding that *one* thing of me.

Inform Mum & Dad that I am basically living with Luka.

Lose temper with dry cleaners again [v. long story involving
horrendous stain on dress, a sheet of ice on apartment building steps
and Jakko's penchant for yapping at strangers].

Flip bird to stupid drivers who cut me off on road.

Read diet, self-help, how-to-get-ahead-in-career books, as are useless
and make me depressed.

Lose sense of self after marriage.

Throw horrifyingly disastrous dinner parties at which boyfriends have
petulant fits in loo or colleagues Come Out of Closet.  Shall
subscribe to Martha Stewart "Living" magazine and learn how to be
Perfect Hostess.  Shall also learn how to build ocean liners from
scratch, train next Derby winner, and shall thereafter be elected
Prime Minister of Canada.

Be helpless and hysterical whenever I see a spider.

Forget to pay heating bill.

Forget to update chequebook.

Let lovely English accent slip away under influence of American
television.

Watch bloody "Friends" again (might be difficult).

Watch "Hannibal" again (easy enough).

Forget to turn iron off after ironing (ruined Luka's shirt yesterday
and *wish* he had yelled at me instead of shrugging it off).

Forget to put on deodorant; realise I am British but don't need to
smell like teamster.

Go outside flat while wearing nothing but curlers and bathrobe and
little bunny slippers because there is always danger of being locked
out in Death Cold and having to pound on door of little old lady who
lives in house a block away and beg to use phone.

Mention this incident to Luka, who might insist I start seeing
psychologist.

Throw sharp objects at Dr. Carter next time he smirks at me.

Drink anything but water and juice, even after babies are born (well,
perhaps *one* shot of bourbon immediately after birth).

Use profanity.

Be rude.

Be vulgar.

Behave as though I have done some grand thing because I am pregnant w/
twins.  Biblical Rebekah had twins and she didn't even have epidural.

Say stupid things to people.

Become hopelessly lost in hospital again (though it is inevitable that
I shall; really ought to make out personal map of the bloody place).


Ugh.  Bloody morning sickness.  Spend more time with head down loo
than late Princess of Wales.

(Meow)



1 January 2002

1:15AM  Mark and Elizabeth's party v. successful.  *She* knows how to
decorate place for party.  Not one disaster, no one ended up in
bathroom having tantrum, no one Came Out, and no one ended up in tears
(except me, but then I cry at the drop of a hat).  Everyone made a
toast at stroke of midnight and sang 'Auld Lang Syne' (muffling
through words until they got to 'Auld Lang Syne' again) and I was
allowed one sip of wine before Luka snatched glass from me.  I sat on
couch and held little Ella, who screeched for a moment but soon became
v. quiet and looked up at me and I got Weepy and Emotional and had to
be taken upstairs for peace and quiet.  Came back and Jing-Mei asked
me what was wrong.

Quick consult w/ Luka in kitchen.  Shall we tell everyone?  I lost
coin toss and we went into living room.  Luka cleared his throat and
looked at everyone.  "Well...uh...Alexandra and I are getting married.
 And...uh..."

"You're pregnant!" This in full stereo from *everyone* in the room.

"Well, *I'm* not pregnant, *she* is," Luka said, pointing at me.   

"How did you all know?!" I shout in frustration.  "With twins mind
you. We got engaged *first*."  Felt that to be necessary, but everyone
staring at me.  Then Jing-Mei screamed as though someone had struck
her with red hot poker and raced up to me and hugged me like
successful game show contestant.  Then she hugged Luka and burst into
tears.  Soon everyone jumping up and down, laughing, hugging me, Luka,
each other, giving each other high fives (what did they have to do
with it?!).  Many suggestions of baby names.  Dave (who was informed
of my pregnancy a few days earlier yet has kept his cakehole shut in
public) started in with names again.  "You could name them after
London surburbs...like Notting Hill, or Shoreditch...just like the
Clintons did with Chelsea."  I threatened to kill him and he went
away.

Party was still going on when Luka and I went home.  Made love in the
dark and lay in bed, v. tired and happy.  Told him about some of my
New Year's resolutions and he lay there a minute, thinking.  Then he
laughed.  "I hope you aren't resolved to become prudish in bed...you
know, 'Lie still and think of England' or nonsense like that."

"Yeah, *right*.  Bloody hell!"  One resolution already broken.  "Don't
you have any resolutions?"

"Hmm...I was thinking of joining an order of Trappist monks, just for
the heck of it.  Then I saw you coming out of the shower this morning
and my resolve kind of evaporated."

"Oh, I remember that," I giggle.  "I'm afraid you don't have much
willpower, Luka."

"I have plenty of willpower.  And incredible powers of concentration.
Not that you were much help, with all that screaming."

"Hey!"  I swat him on the stomach.  "I seem to recall you being rather
noisy yourself."

He gives me a sound kiss and says goodnight.  Love it when he squeezes
me like that.  Was falling asleep when phone began ringing.

4:15AM  Was Alice, calling from somewhere in South Africa.  Cannot
believe it.  Max left her.  Simply cannot believe it.  And he left on
bloody Christmas!  Alice hysterical, in tears, barely coherent.
Scramble out of bed and into kitchen, trying to calm her down.  Luka
(v. sleepy) follows me out and pours me cup of milk, then pads back to
bed, as he needs to be up at seven for work.

"What happened?  I thought everything was perfect with you two."
Reality hitting as image of Normal Family History being flushed down
crapper flashes through my mind.

"It was.  Or so I thought.  But he just...left.  I found out
yesterday-New Year's Eve!-that he's seeing a woman in
Johannesburg...and..." [loud sobbing ensues]

Well, then, the bloody bastard can be eaten by lions for all I care!
"Alice, I'm so sorry...is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know...I'm still down here in...in...where ever the bloody
hell I am, and the children are both sick with colds and fever and I'm
afraid Johnny might hunt him down and kill him..."

Not a good image.  Johnny does have an elephant gun, after all, and is
a dead eye.  Must keep sister calm and reasonable, and must think.
Alice is thirty-six, has two children, Niall and Edward, six and four.
 She can go home to England and stay with Mum and Dad or she could...
gulp...come here and stay w/ me.  Love Alice dearly and love nephews,
but idea of them living w/ me not appealing.  Prefer Niall and Edward
in small doses, not in one giant draught.
Also fairly certain that Luka would find the arrangement hard to take.

"What shall I do?" Alice wails.

"Well...ah...um...let me think."  Consider option of turning Johnny
loose on Max, which would mean Alice and children got all his assets,
but would also mean lengthy prison term for Johnny and not sure if
South Africa has death penalty.  Fairly certain South Africa does not
have death penalty for cheating husbands, though it should.

"H-how are you, Alex?" she asks between wet sobs. 

"I'm okay," I mutter miserably.  Feel it would be extremely
inappropriate to inform her that I am blissfully happy, engaged to
marvelous man and am carrying twins.  Tho' if she comes to stay here
in Chicago it will become rather *obvious*.  "Alice.  Pack your bags,
get the first flight to Chicago and...uh...we'll go from there.  You
can stay with me...somehow."

"How?  You only have that little flat and..."

"No, I won't hear a word of it.  Get out of South Africa ASAP and
we'll work something out."

"Isn't this Luka's number I dialed?  I tried your number but there was
no answer so I tried this one and..."

"Alice, I live with Luka now."

"Oh."

"But I still have the flat, technically.  I'll just...umm...move back
there for a while..."  Oh, bloody hell, Luka is going to *really* hate
this.  Hope he will be sweet tolerant self about this.  He worries
enough about me already, will become almost impossible when he learns
I'm going to be taking care of sobbing sister and energetic nephews
while pregnant with Luka's offspring and working...gah!  Damn, damn,
damn!  F***, f***...(am not breaking New Year's resolution entirely as
am not writing out entire f***ing word!).  *More* bloody delays to
attending position and possibly even delay for wedding.  Oh, dear,
what am I gonna say to Luka?  Hate to wake him up, he's v. tired.

What would I do if he left me for another woman? 

a) slash wrists and jump in tub with a toaster?
b) slash his wrists and throw him in tub with a toaster?
c) write to all major newspapers w/ tales of his impotency, penchant
for spending time w/ goats and general buggery?

No.  Luka wouldn't leave me.  At least I hope he wouldn't.  Getting
teary-eyed now and v. angry at general Male Sex so shall sleep on
couch.  Last time I was angry at Male Sex I spent all night kicking
him in my sleep.  This is not his bloody fault, after all, so no use
taking it out on him.  But cannot sleep anyway, because Alice still
talking (blubbering) about Max and how happy she was with him and what
a good husband he was.

Remembering when Mrs. Ellis' husband left her.  Entire neighbourhood
awakened by her screaming at him as he walked up path toward his car.
"You! Were! A! Lousy! Lover!" at ten in the morning on beautiful
spring day.  Everyone becoming v. quiet as they did lawn work
(lawn-mowers turned off, people snipping grass with fingernails,
*listening*).  Felt rather sorry for Mr. Ellis, but much sorrier for
poor Carolyn.  Back then, divorce v. rare thing in our Set.  She might
as well have painted the house chartreuse and converted to Islam,
being divorced in Chester Place, Ilfracombe.

"I thought your flat...<sob>...belonged to Jane Weston," Alice says,
sounding as though she is quite cried out, which is lucky because she
was beginning to annoy me.

"Yes.  It does.  But she won't be back 'til March and hopefully Luka
and I will be... umm... Be sure you don't let Max know where you've
gone, Alice.  Last thing you need is him showing up at my door one
morning, attorneys at his side, breathing threats about lawsuits and
custody.  Just get on a plane and fly here."  And please sedate Edward
and Niall while you're at it, because I'm not sure how I can deal with
you *and* two active children.

"What will you and Luka be by March?" Alice asks me.

"Uh..."

"What?"

"Alice..."

"Tell me."

"Alice, it's not important now."

"Tell me."

"We're getting married February the twenty-third," I finally tell her.

"What?!"

"Alice..."

"My husband just left me for a six-foot tall German slut and you're
getting married?!"

"She was six feet tall?  Good God, Max is only five-nine..."

"Tell me you're not marrying a man!"

"No, Alice.  I'm marrying an ostrich!"

Alice makes frustrated "grrr" sound and begins using language that
would make sailor blush.  She hates all men.  She will never marry
again, or go on another date, or have sex with man again.  She will be
a lesbian.  Or a nun.  Or both.  I remind her that most Orders do not
accept postulates that use such ripe language and are lesbians and she
becomes even louder and angrier.  Which frustrates me to no end.  I
begin shouting back.

"Besides which, you look bloody awful with short hair...rather like a
scalped greyhound!  And it's not my bloody fault that your husband ran
off with a six foot tall German slut!  I'm marrying a six-foot-four
Croatian that I love and I would think you'd be happy for me, despite
your own pitiable situation.  And yes, I do feel sorry for you, Alice.
 Otherwise I wouldn't be inviting you to come stay with me in f-ing
[broke resolution all to pieces] Chicago, while I've got a wedding to
plan and am carrying *twins*!"

Silence from somewhere in South Africa.  Then Alice bursts into tears
again and apologises profusely for bitchy behavior.  "Twins?
You're...you're having twins?"

"Yes."

"And so is Julia...my God, Alex, we're become Fertile Family Number
One."

"I know."  Am v. upset and wish I had a fag...um...cigarette.  Cannot
deal with this any more.  Must wake Luka.

7:45AM  Luka gone to work, I'm still on bloody phone w/ Alice, who is
still going between crying jags and shouting that Maxwell Hughes shall
have his testicles removed in graphic manner by rabid jackals.
Various methods of torture mentioned, one involving moth-eaten camel,
twisted nipples and elephant dung, and others involving things I
cannot bear to mention.  Alice always was dramatic in her reactions to
Crises.  Not that I am v. calm when unforseen situations arise.

Luka did not like having to speak w/ Alice.  Did so anyway, tho' I
detected mild irritation in his eyes when she started screaming in his
ears.  All he suggested was that she sit down and talk w/ Max (should
she ever find him again) and see if perhaps a reconciliation could be
hammered out.  "It can happen, you know.  People make mistakes..."  He
gave the phone back to me and muttered something about needing a
shower.  Swear I also heard him say he needed a stiff drink.  Don't
blame him.  Hope he is not having second thoughts about marrying me,
for he gets Morgan Package Deal as well-crazy Great-Uncle George who
thinks he's Winston Churchill, and Aunt Freida, who refuses to be in
same room with salt (making for v. difficult life).

8:15AM  Alice has finally hung up.  I totter off for a quick shower,
and emerge to phone ringing again.  Oh, dear God.

8:35AM  Was Max.  Would not tell him anything.  He is v. angry.  Went
back to his house and found Alice and children gone.  "All the bloody
crotches of my pants were cut out!" he yells at me, as though I had
done it.  Alice is an English major.  Symbolism is her life.

"Get thee hence to hell and damnation, Max," I tell future
ex-brother-in-law.  "You cheated on my sister with the Teutonic Slut
from Hell and no way will I give you even a bit of information as to
her whereabouts.  All the women in our family are going to gather
together and put a curse on you that will make you talk like a
ten-year old girl and become extremely attractive to violence-prone,
venereal disease-ridden homosexual men, you bean-wiggling bastard!"

"Now hold on!" Max yelled.  "Itke and I are only friends!"

Itke?  That isn't a name.  Sounds more like a German furniture brand.
"Friends that spend considerable amounts of time naked together?"

"Alexandra!  This is ridiculous!  I have never cheated on Alice.
Where is she, dammit?"

"I am not telling you a thing.  You're the one who spent a weekend in
Johannesburg with Hell Bitch, so you're the one who can pay the
consequences.  Not that Alice isn't already paying consequences.  You
filthy stupid jackass bastard.  Cheating on my sister.  I shall sic
Johnny on you, and possibly even my boyfriend if you ever show up
around *here*!"  Hang up on him and feel v. triumphant.

9:31AM  Splitting headache due to lack of sleep.  Have another
ultrasound today, which means I must take El to CCGH and endure more
goop being spread on belly and Luka looking nervous.

11:20AM  See Luka at front desk of CCGH, having conversation with
Jing-Mei, who looks up at me and grins.  "How're the munchkins doing?"

"The munchkins are doing great, as far as I know," I tell her.  "The
munchkins' aunt and uncle are another story.  Luka, can I talk to
you?"

Led him into lounge and I tell him about Alice and Max, and that Max
called and hell is currently breaking loose in South Africa and that
part of that hell is on her way to Chicago with her two sons.  Luka
looks vaguely dismayed, then he sits down and looks even more
dismayed.  "They're coming *here*?!"

"Yes.  For a while...not long, I hope."

"Can't she go to your parents?" he asks hopefully.

"In a while.  But she just needs...umm...to get away from Max and do
some thinking and hopefully some calming down as well."

Tell him about the crotchless pants and Alice's threats to put curse
on Max, and Luka leans back in chair and looks thoughtful.  "Remind me
to be *extra* nice to this woman.... and... uh...what are the chances
of *Max* showing up here?" he asks me, eyes narrowing ever so
slightly, an expression I know all too well.  He gets *that* look and
I know trouble is about to happen.

"I hope he doesn't. But if he does I expect you to be calm and
rational and not kill him immediately.  First torture, *then* you may
kill him.  But as for Alice...she's not so bad.  She's just very
emotional and can be very dramatic.  It runs in the family."

"It does?"

"Yes."

"So then I should prepare myself for high drama at around the end of
July?"

"I would take it under advisement."

He takes a deep breath.  "So where will we put them?"

"I was thinking my flat...uh...which means I'll have to move back over
there.  I feel obligated to Jane, you know.  I can't just dump
squatters there..."

He looks less than pleased with that idea.  But there are more
important matters at hand.  "We'll discuss that later.  It's almost
time for your ultrasound.  Come on."  He takes my hand and herds me to
the elevators, where I am harangued by Dave with further baby name
suggestions.  Harpo and Zeppo.  No thank you.  Siegfried and Roy,
then.  No.  Peanut Butter and Jelly.  No thank you!

1:45PM  Ultrasound went smoothly, babies growing, all well in the
world.  Working from 2PM 'til 8PM and overhear Luka giving Dr. Weaver
strict instructions to make me rest whenever possible.  I am to keep
off feet, eat good supper tonight and take a nap halfway through
shift.  "Is she allowed to think for herself?" she asked him, which
caused him to glare at her.  "So long as it doesn't make her tired,"
was his answer.

3:45PM  Worked w/ Abby Lockhart today on several cases.  Seems like
relatively competent student.  Not entirely sure I like her, though.
She seems a tad...I don't know.  Selfish.  She asked me about my
pregnancy and how I'm feeling, and I tell her I'm doing well.  "Luka
must be very happy," she says.  She can't pronounce "Luka" correctly,
I notice, which must have been extremely annoying to him.

8:10PM  In El, writing despite fingers freezing and headache.  Hope I
can make it home before I need to puke.  Toothless man staring at me.

8:20PM  Didn't know vomit bounces on ice.

8:45PM  Luka v. sweet to me and insists I take nice relaxing hot bath.
 Sits on edge of tub and reads story to me about a golfer who was
eaten by an alligator.  "That's one hell of a hazard," he tells me,
and I feel better.  Had bad day and feel lousy, but at least I wasn't
eaten by an alligator.  At least, not yet.


To be continued...