These Questions
Carter had awakened early, as usual, and had done his parenting duties for the morning. He was concerned about Abby, who had woken up each time he had during the night. He wished she would get more sleep. Her eyes had dark circles under them when she smiled. It had only been one week with the birth of the baby, so he figured they would both adjust. She had said the same thing about his condition to him, so maybe it was just a temporary thing.
Lucky for them, their son wasn't as hyped up as some childhood tales were told to be. He was a quiet, calm baby. With the two of their genes, though, something was bound to bring out some wild curiosity sooner or later. For now, he was just the sweet baby that brought out the mother in every woman, the father in every man.
He had also been drinking a lot of coffee, something that had kept him clear at work. Clear, awake, whatever. Caffeine, luckily, does that. However, obviously Abby couldn't keep the same ritual as she was nursing the baby. Another reason he felt so sorry for her. Contrite, if he could. He had made sure she went to bed early each night, and had been sure to be alert during the night to wake up before she did. And to hush the baby before he woke her.
Walking through the ER doors for the first time in a week was odd. Technically, they weren't the ER doors. Only a door from a stairwell to the correct floor. There were guards posted all around the department and yellow 'caution' tape laced throughout the areas. Looking around, there were probably as many law enforcement officers as medical practitioners there. It was nearly bare there; few patients were sitting in chairs. The usual crew at the admit desk was lying lazily against the counter, elbows propped behind them. He saw that the only patients waiting were those of bleeding knees, nosebleeds, and earaches.
As Carter rounded the corner to the admit desk, the crowd of them perked up and smiled. They began to come around him and pat him on the back, Chen to hug him, and congratulate him.
"He's blushing," Chen said with a smile as he searched the board for something to keep him busy.
"Congratulations, Carter," Lydia said. "How is he? How's Abby?"
"He's good, she's good," he chuckled, erasing something and adding another. "Parenting's taking its swing for now, but it's only been a week."
"And his name is Jonathan Truman the fourth?" someone asked.
He shook his head and grinned funnily. "Jonathan Truman. What's wrong with that?"
Haleh waved her hand in the air and turned back around to the computer. "Nothing."
"You delivered the kid, then?" Pratt asked, scratching his head. When Carter nodded, he added, "What did you do with the mess?"
He shook his head again. "What do you mean? Why would that matter? She was having a baby."
"What did you do with the cord?"
"Cut it off with keys."
Their faces twisted, some of them laughed, and some of them groaned.
Conni had laughed. "Keys?"
"That's all I had," he chuckled in defense. "Now, if you'll excuse me." With a kind roll of his eyes, he walked off to another room, actually anxious to start his job for the day.
--
"How's he doing?"
The crying could be heard over the phone right outside the trauma room. Oddly, he smiled at the sound of it, but only because he missed the two of them. He would have frowned otherwise; he could imagine what a difficult time Abby was having. He knew she could have been happier during the pregnancy, and not being like she should have wasn't producing the best aftermath.
"He has a fever," she said. "I know he does."
Carter stood up straighter, away from the wall he had been leaning against. "What's the temp?"
"I was going to check," she began, "but it turns out we don't have a thermometer."
"Parents both work in a hospital," he said, "and the one thing we could forget is a thermometer?"
"Well, I don't think it's a fever," she reasoned, "but he's warm."
"You could bring him in anyway," he smiled. "I miss you guys as it is."
She laughed. "Ha. I'm in pajamas, and my hair... all I did was pull it up and tie it together. I look awful. I think he's okay. He's just tired."
"Just come in," he laughed back. "Maybe just to make sure."
She sighed. "I guess. Don't make fun of the way I look. Don't you dare."
"Just come in," he said. "I have to go." He nodded toward Chuny, who was gesturing toward the board, still with a few patients waiting.
"Okay," she conceded. "See you in... a while."
He nodded and shivered. "Bye."
She reciprocated, hung up, and he was walking through the ER again. He made his way over to the admit desk again with a smirk. Looking up to Chen and Chuny, he joked with a smile, "We have a one week old with a possible fever."
"Is this a Carter baby?"
He nodded. Clearly happy. "Yep."
"Oh!" Chuny cried. She turned around to Randi. "Carter's bringing his baby in."
"Abby's bringing him up here," he said, walking to the board again.
"He has a fever?"
He shrugged, trading charts, sketching a few notes in various places, and threw them back into the rack. "Abby's concerned. She's just protective."
"Protective?" Chen said, raising her eyes. "In a bad way? That's what you made it sound like."
He shook his head, and clicked his pen against the counter. "She's a great mother. She's just nervous."
"Yeah, I bet - oh, hey Susan!"
He turned around to where Chen had shouted and smiled at Susan. She was in a wheelchair, coming toward them.
"You have no idea how much this sucks," she said, sighing in exhaustion and ceasing with her arms next to the desk side.
Carter smiled. "How are you doing?"
Susan nodded as Chen was called away. Chen gave her a "get better" and walked off.
"Broken arm, broken leg, huh?" Carter asked. "You got hit by an ambulance."
"Seriously?" she asked, sarcasm to her chin.
Carter laughed back, folding his arms. "But you're good? We were a little worried about you."
She smiled, "You had delivered a baby in an elevator!"
He laughed again. "So you heard?"
"Hasn't everyone? How are you holding up?" She came a little closer to him and looked at his face. "You look a little tired."
"I'm afraid that she'll overwork herself if she gets up at night," he said. "I told her I'd work the night shift crib-wise, and she could take care of him while I was at work."
"And when she goes back to work..."
"...he'll be upstairs with Marcy and Dana."
"Marcy and Dana?"
"Don't they run the daycare center-thing upstairs?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't have kids."
He smiled. "I'm going to make some coffee. You want some?"
She nodded and her smile dropped slightly. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Quizzically, he agreed. "Sure."
They walked together toward the lounge, strutting easily through a near empty chair and lobby area.
"Why is no one here?"
"I'm guessing it's the bomb fear that has developed in the last few days."
"Kidding?" he asked in amazement. "People aren't coming because they're afraid of a bomb or something?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary."
"Where do they go?"
She shrugged. "That's just my theory. Could you get the door, please?"
"Oh, sure," he said politely. He opened the door for her as she came inside and thanked him. He nodded and threw himself to the couch.
"I need one of those electrical chairs," Susan complained comically. "This is just awful."
He laughed and laid his head on his hand. He could automatically detect how tired he was. The joys of fatherhood, he thought. As much as it was tiring, though, he had to admit he was enjoying it. Even when he was sleepless and lifeless, he was still so alive inside. He started to itch now; he wondered if it was really that normal for a father to be still this excited just to see his son. After all, he had woken up to his cries in the middle of the night to what seemed like hundreds of times.
Either way, he certainly was still enthusiastic.
"Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"If I'm infringing or anything," she said, throwing a hand or anything, "stop me."
He lowered his eyebrows, nodding again. "Shoot."
She swallowed, "So the baby's yours?"
He sat back against the couch and sighed aloud.
She took it as a sign, but before she could speak, he spoke. "He's my son. In all respect, it's still tender ground you're stepping on."
She shook her head. "Sorry. I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I don't even know why I asked - "
"Is everyone talking about it or something?"
She shook her head a little rapidly. "Not anymore." She realized what she had said and put her hand over her eyes. "Damn it."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"God, I'm sorry - "
"What did they say before?"
"They were suspecting things, the usual."
"Betting?"
"What do you think?"
He stood up and walked over to the coffee pot. "You know, it never bothered me before, but now - "
The door opened suddenly. Chuny walked inside proudly and said, "Carter, you have visitors."
[Part 33]