"Doctor Weaver?" Randi called, pushing open the door to the lounge. The subject of her search was half-sprawled across the lounge sofa, and she stifled a chuckle at the sight.
"Yeah?" Kerry replied, shifting to a more professional seated position.
Now that she’d found her, Randi wasn’t quite sure what to say. She stepped into the lounge and waited for the door to close behind her, then hesitantly shifted on her feet, finally moving closer and sitting on the other end of the sofa.
"I saw how you were, with the girl who’d been molested," she began, her words cautious but sure, "not many people could’ve handled a situation like that so…competently."
After a second of surprised examination of the younger woman, Kerry nodded, "Thank you, Randi."
"Yeah," she offered a small smile, "I mean it though, and I can’t help but… well, do you think they’ll find her? The little girl?"
The doctor sighed, her head bowed, "I don’t know, Randi. It’s like she and her father have just…disappeared. The police have yet to locate them, there’ve been no further records of her being admitted to hospitals anywhere in the county. DCFS has talked to anyone who might know where Hailey is…nothing."
With that, Kerry moved her hands to her lips, obviously as surprised as the clerk that she’d spoken so much about the child’s status.
Hesitance again obvious in her movements, Randi awkwardly patted her superior’s hand. "I understand."
When she received no response, the younger woman continued, "My younger sister…" she began, letting her words trail off.
"You have a sister?" Kerry began after a moment, then cocked her head to the side, "I’m sorry. I really don’t…"
"It’s okay," she waved her hand, "I had a sister; she was killed over a decade ago, by the same man that raped her," Randi shrugged. "It’s weeks like this one…"
The doctor nodded.
"Hey, Doctor Weaver?" Randi spoke again after a moment, standing to her feet and moving toward the door, still making an effort to catch the older woman’s gaze. When Kerry finally looked up, she sighed, "I hope they find her. I understand how it feels, to wait. And," she paused, continuing somewhat cautiously, "I think you do too."
Then, Randi passed through the door, left to ponder just what Randi had meant.
That Evening
Kerry’s Home
"Hi," Carter grinned upon entering the kitchen. Kerry was poised before the stove, balancing on one leg and the counter as she twirled her other ankle around several inches above the floor. It suddenly struck him that she looked like a little girl attempting some sort of ballet pose, and that only made him grin wider.
"And what are you so cheerful about?" she groused, placing bout feet on the floor and turning with spatula in hand, waving it in a threatening manner. "I didn’t cook dinner, so to speak, I’ve been craving pancakes," Kerry finished, as if it explained away all of the problems in her life.
Chocolate chip pancakes, at that.
"Mmm, well, you won’t hear me complaining," he chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning over the frying pan, shortly after she turned back to the meal at hand.
"Be careful, the oil is hot," she warned, leaning back into him.
Though he knew she wasn’t watching, he nodded and turned to head back to the bar, calling over his shoulder. "Hey, you said there was something you wanted to tell me, earlier today. It’s been nagging at me all day, actually, I have to admit I was kind of worried."
Kerry didn’t respond, flipping the pancake instead. "Just a minute," she finally said, turning off the burner and placing the pancake on the stack. She limped over to the table and placed the plate in the center, then urged Carter to take his seat. Ever the gentleman, he seated her first, then took the chair across from her.
"I’ve been dreaming lately," she began, taking several of the pancakes for herself, "and this really isn’t a dinner conversation," the doctor shook her head.
"I don’t mind. I’d like to know what’s on your mind." His eyes were filled with concern, the kind that made her feel as if she was caught between melting and crying. Whether it was the hormonal changes her body had yet to grow accustomed to or her nature, she wasn’t sure.
"I’ve been dreaming of things I thought I’d forgotten," she added, several seconds later, refusing to look at him, as she sliced through the pancakes. "Bad things, from my childhood."
"Your parents?" Carter asked, tilting his head as he observed her. Head bowed, eyes focused on her food – which wasn’t altogether uncommon, as she’d grown extremely food-oriented in the last few weeks – and a frown deeply etched into her face. He felt as if the bottom were about to drop out, and instead of following her lead, he dropped his knife and fork to the side, allotting her his full attention for however long the conversation took.
Whatever it was, he knew, it couldn’t be good, not if she seemed almost… afraid to face him. "You can tell me, you know."
"I know," she sighed, finally placing her knife on her napkin, glancing up at him, then reaching for the syrup. "This is difficult, I’ve never… talked about it, before. Except to mention it to Mlungisi almost thirty years ago, and he was there. I mean, he already knew." Again, Kerry glanced upward, a little unnerved by the way his eyes focused on her and nothing else. "Your food’s going to get cold," she gently chided him.
"My food’s not as important, right now."
"Hailey… I think I started remembering when I saw Hailey. I think that I never really forgot, just pushed it away, really," she paused, "And I think you’re already beginning to understand what I’m about to say, aren’t you? Mentioning her… gave it away. Not that it’s particularly big or anything. I just, I wanted to share it with you because I felt like you should know, should understand. I’m even less…" she struggled for her words, eventually opting to let the sentence drift off. She folded her hands over her lap, and looked down at them, but Carter refused to let her turn away.
"Look at me?" he requested, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but raised her head. "Whatever you say, it’s just between us. And I won’t judge you, or feel any differently toward you, Kerry. You know that."
Her head tilted to the side as she realized his words were quite true. Perhaps she wasn’t as afraid to tell him because she knew he wouldn’t judge, he wouldn’t be terribly disgusted – at least not as disgusted as the others would have been.
"When I was an infant, my parents left me at an orphanage in Adiare, near the border. In Africa," she clarified. "It was run by two women and a man, the Colonel he was called, I guess because no one knew what else to call him," she shrugged, "There were around four dozen children there, in five rooms – three bedrooms. No indoor plumbing, the bathroom was the same river the children bathed in. It was terribly unsanitary, disease was rampant," she glanced down at her leg meaningfully, and Carter caught the glare. "The Colonel had this penchant for hard liquor, strange weaponry, and little girls," she paused again, taking a sip of her water and setting the glass back down with shaking hands. "He always picked favorites."
"There was only one other Caucasian child, another girl, she was 6 years older than I was, and I remember her as very beautiful and kind. She was like an older sister, always protecting and sheltering. When I was five, he took her, made her his girl. She killed herself a little less than nine months later, never told me goodbye."
Shakily, she looked up and swallowed, and Carter’s hand came to rest above hers. "And then, when they said I’d turned eleven – I’ve never known my real birth date, did I ever tell you that? I chose my own, basically – or rather, right after I turned eleven, he took me to the back of the house and out to his quarters. It was a little," she waved her hands around, "cabin sort of thing at the corner of the property. It was cleaner than the orphanage but it smelled like scotch and… stale cigars. I’ve never forgotten that smell, I don’t think I ever will," Kerry’s pallor seemed to be shifting, and Carter’s eyes grew more concerned as she paled. "I was molested, ongoing for thirteen months."
The room grew quiet, and she again bowed her head, hands shaking even as Carter’s enveloped her own. Slowly, he dropped her hands and she flinched at the loss of contact, afraid he was disappointed or ashamed of her, but then he had walked around the table and was lifting her chin. "You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of or worried about. I don’t care what happened twenty-some years ago," he finally said, and her eyes flitted nervously around the room. "You’re a wonderful person who has so many gifts, and one of them is the gift of understanding," he smiled slightly, "And I think that… what you just told me, might have helped you understand Hailey, help her. And before you say anything, you did help her, as best you could."
She watched him, eyes wide and hazy with a coating of tears that she refused to shed. "Thank you."
"Thank you for trusting me," he added, then slipped his arms around her, wondering exactly how he could comfort her, and why it seemed that, though both possessed the skills of the greatest physicians, healing was beyond their grasp. He’d heard her words, but he knew they hadn’t settled in yet, hadn’t really affected him. When they did, he had a feeling anger would be the predominant emotion. He wanted to kill the bastard, wanted to scratch his eyes out and castrate him with a dirty scalpel, but it would get worse, he knew, because he’d felt that kind of rage before. And beyond the anger would be an even more intense hurt than he felt at the moment he’d enveloped her in his arms, the kind that would make his heart clench and his eyes water, for all that she’d endured and the things she could never forget. If he had, at any point, doubted his devotion to her, the words she’d spoken had reaffirmed it through the level of emotion he felt. Carter understood, though he didn’t truly understand her the way she did Hailey, and for that he was almost grateful. When it hit him, when it really sank in, he would hold her for his own comfort more than hers, and he’d hope she’d accept it for all that it was, and never fear him.
Somehow, the doubts she’d never expressed verbally but had emoted through her eyes seemed to make sense to him, and Carter wanted to cry, "Oh Kerry," but he would not.
Eyes squeezed shut as she nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder, Kerry could almost see the cabin, the older girl, and the blond hair that had fallen in a trail of blood. It had been she that found Jessie, but that was a story she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to tell, an image she’d never forget.
Just like she’d never forget the fear on the childlike face of Hailey, and the way she’d had to leave even her crutch behind to near her. "It’s okay," she’d said, but even she had doubted her words.
And looking back, it seemed she had good reason to do so.
