Instant Attraction, Part 8
Double-Take
By Miesque
miesque@looksmart.com

Disclaimer: the characters of Luka Kovac & Kerry Weaver do not belong to me. I promise to return them to NBC, Warner Bros. & Amblin quite unharmed.

Follow-up to “Abby Road” (In a way.  Abby gets a brief mention but no lines...)

Previous installments: Instant Attraction; Room For Rent; Fired; Blackout; On The Line; Point of Refuge; Heart to Heart

Thanks again to Canada for editing and nit-picking *G*



Luka sat in the lounge, reading over an article on Munchausen’s Syndrome. He had never seen a case of the condition before, particularly a case of Munchausen’s by proxy, and it fascinated him. He wasn’t sure of what to make of it, really. He was glad that the little boy had been rescued from such a difficult situation, but he hated taking any child from it’s parent. A bad parent is usually better than no parent at all. But that woman had been poisoning her own child, and it was simply incomprehensible to him.

Lying beside the article was a small card bearing the telephone number of a Dr. Benjamin Reed, a clinical psychologist who specialized in victims of PTSD and violent crime. Several times during the day, Luka had tried to gather up enough nerve to dial that number, but various circumstances had kept him from it so far. Kerry had given him the card that morning, after he had cautiously approached her about it.

Luka was no good at beating around the bush, so he had asked her directly. In a matter of moments, he found himself in her office, standing in front of her desk, feeling uncomfortable. He watched as she dug through a large rolodex of cards until she found the right one.

“I think Dr. Reed could really help you. He has the most experience in this area, and he’s written many articles on PTSD,” Kerry had said. It was strange how excited she seemed. “You’ll like him.”

“You know him?” Luka had asked, feeling suspicious. “You talked to him?”

“No!  No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that, Luka,” she said softly, her voice even, staring up at him for a moment before continuing. “I went to college with him...”

“Oh...”  Luka shifted uneasily on his feet.

“I mean, Ben could really help you, Luka, if you’d let him. He’s a very good psychologist but he’s also a good man.”

A good man, Luka thought. Well, he’d have to see about that for himself. He still hadn’t called, but it was four o’clock now, and his shift was almost over. As he scanned the article again, Randi came in to the lounge, and smiled at Luka.

“Hey, Dr. Kovac. How’s it goin’?”

“I’m still alive, if that’s what you mean,” Luka answered. He and Randi often joked with each other, finding-to their surprise- that they possessed similar senses of humor.

“Good. I heard about that woman that was poisoning her kid. Musta been terrible...” She shook her head and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “I guess the caseworkers are handling it now, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be quite a shock for you, in some ways. I mean...Croatia’s a pretty small country. Catholic, right?”

“Right.”

“So that kind of thing...you probably didn’t see it very often, huh?   Munchausen’s, I mean.”

He nodded, looking up at her for a moment, waiting to see where she was going with this. He hadn’t seen any cases of Munchausen’s in Croatia, and had only read about it upon coming to America. It wasn’t like it was something you immediately recognize.

Randi sat down opposite Luka, and didn’t notice him quietly snatch up the card and put it back in his breast pocket. “I mean, this all must be a shock to you. Coming here and seeing shootings going on in the halls, then parents poisoning their own kids...”

Luka shrugged. Shootings in hospitals...he had found himself quite prepared for a situation like that. It had shaken him, but his first thought had been to protect Loren Johnson and Lucy Knight. He knew what fear was; a terrified kid with a pistol wasn’t much to worry about, as far as Luka was concerned. That was but a small and passing evil.

“Culture shock isn’t the right phrase for it,” Luka said at last. “Though it was a little strange at first,” he smiled wryly. “For a while there, people were calling me ‘Vlad the Impaler’ and thought I was from Transylvania.”

Randi eyed him warily then. Had he heard about that conversation about him when he’d first started working at County? She supposed that even if he had, he wouldn’t have said anything about it. How stupid, Randi thought. We all sounded like a band of idiot xenophobes.

“Musta been frustrating,” Randi said. “I mean, us Americans think of ‘foreigners’ as the sorta people who should be mopping floors, not saving lives. We don’t like the idea of reporting to someone from another country. It kinda stinks if ya ask me...”

Kerry came in just then, and Randi got up, grinning at Luka. “See ya, Dr. Kovac.”

He nodded and watched her leave, then turned his attention to Kerry, who seemed to be trying to find the right words to say. Finally, she cautiously sat down opposite him and began. “Did you call Dr. Reed yet?”

“No. Not yet.”

“It has been busy today,” she nodded. “So what do you think of our new med student?  Abby Lockhart?”

“She seems to know what she’s doing. She was an OB nurse, I hear.  And she helped us with Mrs. Grant.”

“Yes. I’m glad she did.” Kerry popped open a can of Dr. Pepper and leaned back in her chair a little. “And how is your mentoring of Lucy going?”

“I like her enthusiasm,” he answered, smiling. “She seems almost too young to be graduating this June.”

“I’m glad you’ve been working with her, Luka. She was just telling me yesterday that she enjoys working with you.” She paused for a moment. “She really looks up to you.”

He smiled that modest smile of his. “She’s a good kid. In fact, I think she’d be a really good psychologist.”

“Really? Did you tell her that?”

“Yeah, but she wants to work in emergency medicine. She was really down about that heart transplant patient of hers, but...everyone needs encouragement once in a while.”

“That’s true. You’re still just...thinking about it, huh?” she asked. “Seeing the therapist, I mean.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a...a big step, that’s all. I’m not sure I can do it.” To hear himself saying that-admitting that he was a little scared of jumping out into unknown waters-startled him a little and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Promise me you’ll try, Luka,” she said, looking right into his eyes.

He wondered, for a moment, why she should be so concerned. She was his boss, of course, but he had yet to sense that she thought he was just a minion in her little ER kingdom. That was how she treated everyone else, including Mark and Carter, to a certain degree. It seemed strange that Kerry would act differently around him. His intuition told him that she respected him, and that was something he hadn’t experienced a lot lately.

“All right,” he said.  “I promise.”

She smiled, obviously pleased. “Good. I’m your supervisor and I have to be concerned for my employees,” she said evenly.

Just then, Malik burst into the room. “Dr. Kovac, we’ve got an MVA and a GSW comin’ in. Road rage.”

Luka got to his feet, groaning wearily, and walked out. Another delay, at least, to making that phone call.



Kerry was chopping up cucumbers in her kitchen, listening to Edith Piaf singing something in French, when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

“Who is this?” she asked

“I must have the wrong number,” said a thickly accented male voice.

“Who are you calling?”

“I’m looking for a Dr. Luka Kovac.”

“Well, this is his place of residence...sort of. Can I help you?”

“Luka lives with you?”

Kerry couldn’t figure out what to say in response to that question. “Who is this?” she repeated.

“I’m his brother, Davor.”

“Yes. Luka mentioned that he had a brother...”

“Yes. But he does try to keep it quiet, doesn’t he?”

A charmer, Kerry thought. Probably tall, like Luka. Sexy voice, she had to admit. “Well, I’m sorry, but Luka isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?”

“Oh, no, don’t bother. I’m at the airport, actually.”

“What airport?”

“O’Hare.”

Uh-oh, Kerry thought. “Does Luka know you’re in town?”

“No. It’s a surprise. Tell me... how is he doing?”

“Fairly well,” she answered cautiously, still uncertain.

“As well as can be expected, you mean? Heh...Luka isn’t a great talker, that’s for sure. That’s why I’m the lawyer and he’s the doctor. His clients are usually unconscious. Mine are usually wide awake, and won’t shut up.”

Kerry smiled, but she felt uneasy. Davor seemed awfully free with information about his brother. “Well, Mr. Kovac, can I assume you have some means of transportation, or should I page Dr. Kovac to come get you?”

“No, no, don’t do that. I’ll get a cab. I’m staying at a hotel, in fact. I’ll come by the hospital tomorrow...when is he on?”

Kerry wasn’t sure if she should tell him. After all, this guy could be some kind of crank...it was possible...  “Tell me, Mr. Kovac. Luka was involved in an incident in college involving a Mercedes-Benz...”

“Oh, yes. He put it on Professor DuLange’s roof with a cherry picker. Beautiful job, too. Not a single scratch. Precision is Luka’s forte.”

“Where did he get a cherry picker?” Kerry asked, incredulous but convinced that this man really was Luka’s brother.

“Eh...it’s a long story. I understand you being suspicious. Everyone seems to be protective of my baby brother.”

“Baby brother?”

“Yeah, two years younger.”

“Oh.”

“Uh...Luka...lives with you?”

“He rents a room in my basement,” she explained, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“Oh.” Davor stepped back from the phone and looked up and down the terminal for a moment. In her basement? That really threw him. Luka living in a basement again? No...certainly not. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask your name. What is your name?”

“Dr. Kerry Weaver. I’m chief of the ER where Luka works. I’m his boss.” That didn’t sound right to Kerry, for some reason. She had never really thought of herself, on a conscious level, as Luka’s ‘boss’.

“Well...yes...of course. Uh...” He searched his mind for the right English word for what he’d just heard, but it didn't come to him. “You spend a lot of with my brother?”

“I see him at work, of course, and we have been known to sit and talk...” Kerry admitted, but she felt defensive.

Just then, Luka came into the kitchen, tossing his keys on the table, nodding hello to her. He studied her for a moment, but
seemed uninterested in her conversation and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

Davor fidgeted with the telephone cord, then exhaled. “Well, I hope to meet you, Dr. Weaver.”

“Yes. Eight o’clock,” Kerry said quickly. “At eight o’clock.”

For a moment, he was confused, but then he caught what she was saying. “Oh. Yes. He’ll be there at eight tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.”

She was startled when Davor hung up abruptly, and she leaned against the wall for a moment, her mind racing. She really ought to tell Luka that his brother was in town, but Davor had said it was a surprise... however, it was also obvious that Luka hated being surprised. Wasn’t that why she had referred him to a psychologist?

“Kerry, was there any mail for me?” Luka asked, making her jump.

“Yes.  Bills...” She handed him the stack of envelopes, which he received without enthusiasm, and watched as he drank his orange juice and opened each letter.

“Hmmm...seems I’m getting a VISA Mastercard,” Luka said, glancing up at her. “It’s nice to know that upon coming to America you are immediately given a chance to go straight into debt.”

Kerry smiled.

“Have you eaten today, Luka?” she asked. It seemed like she was always asking him that. And nine times out of ten, he said ‘no’. So, Kerry always had something made for him. If she wasn’t at home, she’d leave him a note that there was something in the refrigerator for him to warm up. He seemed to appreciate her kindness toward him, because he would finish everything she served him. Either that, or he was able to get rid of it somehow without her knowing.

“What did you make?” he asked.

“Just a salad for now.  But...uh...” She stopped suddenly, seeing his vaguely disappointed expression. “Are you trying to get me to cook for you?!”

“Well, I am an old-fashioned Croatian. Women should be kept barefoot and pregnant, in the kitchen...” he joked.

She playfully whacked him on the wrist with the wooden salad spoon, and he pretended to be wounded. Suddenly, he winced and sat down, quickly removing his watch. At first, he didn’t really think she could see the scars - she was standing several feet away - but Kerry did see them and her smile at his feigned injury faded away when she saw the marks.

“What are those marks, Luka?” she asked softly.

He froze for a moment, then quickly put the watch back on. “I’m not hungry, Kerry. I’m sorry. I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

“No...Luka...” She quickly crutched toward the basement door, blocking his path. “Where did the scars come from?”

Luka looked away, clearly upset. “I’m tired, Kerry...please.”

“No! Where did the scars come from?”

“The internment camp!  The...they burned my wrist with cigarettes.” And my back, my arms, my shoulders, he thought. If you think my wrists hurt...  “Just let me go, all right?”

“Do the scars hurt?”

“Sometimes. Like now.”

“Let me see them,” she said. Grudgingly, he removed the watch again. Kerry examined the marks carefully, and suddenly she felt sick to her stomach. What had they done to him? she asked herself. They couldn’t just stop at scarring his soul, they had
to...

“I’m really tired, Kerry...I’m not hungry. Can I please just go?”

She couldn’t say anything, but she shook her head and nodded toward the bowl of salad.

“No salad...please,” he said. “I can’t eat salad.” Damn, but that song...that terrible song...was playing in his head again. “No salad.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“I’m very tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes.  “I...good night, Kerry.”

She flushed and backed away from him, and Luka took that opportunity to flee. She was left leaning on her crutch, dazed.



Kerry wanted to warn Luka about Davor all morning, but when he signed in he made a point of ignoring her and everyone else. He went right to work, grabbing several charts and rushing toward exam two. Kerry sighed and leaned against the admit desk for a moment, then headed down the hall to start her day.

Sitting in her office, she looked at Dr. Reed’s number a thousand times, arguing with herself as to whether she should just call him. Of course, she knew she couldn’t. It would be wrong-dead wrong-to call him up and discuss Luka. What could she say, anyway? “I have a friend who I think suffers from PTSD...has several symptoms...scares easily, nightmares, doesn’t sleep well anyway...doesn’t eat...” How clumsy, she thought. And how disrespectful.  I respect Luka too much to do that to him, she decided, nodding her head firmly. And it would ruin our friendship if I forced him into something he wasn’t ready for.

She didn’t want to lose that friendship. It had become so valuable to her.



He paused outside the ambulance bay doors, checking his reflection for a moment in the glass, straightening his tie and smoothing his hair back a little. Randi saw him come in, and at first he barely registered, then she did a startled double-take.

He was wearing a light-grey suit, with a red tie. He was tall, with wide shoulders and a strong build. His hair was dark, streaked with silver, and he had all-too-familiar Slavic/Mediterranean looks. He was handsome all right...

“Hello,” he said in a thick Slavic accent, smiling politely, but still looking slightly wary. That was familiar, too. “I’m looking for Dr. Luka Kovac.  Is he here?”

“Yeah,” Randi choked. “Are you...a friend of his?” She was examining his suit with interest. Armani. Luka usually wore Versace.

“I’m his brother. Davor.”

Randi closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head in amazement, staring at him intently. “Okay...I’ll...I’ll find him for you..” She picked up the phone.

Kerry was crutching down the hall, about to yell for Carter to tend to a bee sting in exam three, when she caught sight of him. At first, it failed to register with her either, but as she turned into the exam room, she stopped dead in her tracks, and began crutching toward him as fast as she could.

“Mr. Kovac?” she said quickly.

It seemed like every eye in the ER was on Davor. Randi was picking up all the similarities between him and Luka. Davor was a little heavier, but it wasn’t fat.  It was muscle. And he looked well-fed and healthy. The eyes were the real telling difference. They lacked Luka’s sadness-and beauty-as well as being a much more obvious green. Luka’s were smoky-green, and could become darker when he was angry. There was light and humor in Davor, along with wariness. He straightened and faced Kerry as she came toward him.

“Yes. We spoke yesterday?” he asked. His accent was much thicker than Luka’s. But he, too, possessed Luka’s manners and dignity. Only, he wasn’t as beautiful as the younger Kovac. Big, powerful, not ungraceful, only a little oafish by comparison. A grizzled lion to Luka’s hungry panther. But...he was very handsome, not doubt about it. Still, Kerry noticed a very slight crookedness to his nose.  It added to his charm. He had the same strong chin, high cheekbones, and olive skin. But the real beauty wasn’t there. Maybe tragedy really can make someone beautiful, if they don’t allow it to make them ugly and hateful.

“Yes. We did.  Uh...could I...”

Just then, Luka came around the opposite corner, and froze. Davor seemed to almost sense his brother’s presence, because he turned to face him.

“Luka!  I got my parole!”

“Very funny,” Luka answered, but Kerry could have sworn she saw a flicker of light in Luka’s eyes. Talk about self-control, she thought.

“Aw, come on, Luka, give your big brother a hug!”

Luka edged toward his brother, and Kerry took a deep breath. The two men embraced, and Luka lingered in his older brother’s hug, making Kerry wonder, yet again, if Luka craved human contact.

Finally, Luka pulled away.  “I have lots of patients to see, Davor,” he said.

Davor grinned. “Of course. We’ll talk later. In fact...” He turned to look at Kerry. “I’m rather interested in talking with Dr. Weaver here. But I look forward to talking to you.”

Kerry felt an urge to whack Davor with her crutch if he said anything about their conversation last evening. But Davor only smiled at her. He had Luka’s smile, but-again-it lacked something. It lacked Luka’s sweetness. Not that there was something leering in Davor’s looks or behavior.

“Good,” Luka said, passing his brother quickly. He gave Kerry a querying look, though. How did Davor know her? he wondered. But one of the nurses began shouting about a code blue and Luka had to run.



Davor sat opposite Kerry in her office, looking entirely comfortable. He looked around the tiny room with interest, which only unnerved Kerry more. Luka hadn’t looked much.

“So you’re the ER chief?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes. I am.”

“Guess that took a lot of work,” he said. “Lots of ambition.”

“Yes.”

He looked around, noting that there were no family photos on the desk. No crayon drawings taped to the filing cabinets. In fact, her office was rather stark, except for a photograph of what appeared to be a scene somewhere in Africa.

“You’ve been to Africa?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Is that all you say? ‘Yes’?”

“No.”

Davor laughed out loud. Kerry found herself comparing him, yet again, to Luka. The laugh wasn’t the same either. It was more out-loud and throaty to Luka’s soft chuckle.

“I guess I’m kind of a shock to you, Dr. Weaver. I’m not like my brother at all.”

“No, you’re not. Not really.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’ve ever tried.” He paused a moment, tracing the line of the crease in his tailored pants, clearly a little uneasy about discussing the matter. “I don’t really understand Luka very well. Even when we were kids, he was...how do you say in America?... ‘stand-offish’? We see everything differently. He’s very...uh...emotional. I’m the king of cold, hard facts.”

Kerry nodded. “Luka can be rather emotional sometimes, I agree, but his actions are usually fairly logical in the end.”

“To him they are,” Davor said. “How well do you...uh...know him?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kovac?” she asked icily, narrowing her eyes.

“No,” he laughed. “Let me apologize. Luka is still so much of a mess that I don’t think he’s even capable of...you know. But, in my opinion, he needs to get on with his life.”

“Get on with his life? How do you propose he do that, Mr. Kovac...?”

“Davor,” he said, giving her that charming smile again.

“Davor. How do you think he can do that? He was traumatized...”

“Yes, I know he was. But he’s got to move on. Tatjana and the children are dead, and he can’t bring them back by being alone and miserable, can he?”

Kerry had never heard anything so cruel in her life. She didn’t know what to say, so she just stared at Davor.

He continued. “I love my brother. I always will. But he can’t go on like this and be... healthy. He needs to get over it.”

“Then why aren’t you telling him all this encouraging information?” Kerry asked with a cold smile.

“Because the last time I tried, he did this to my nose.” He touched the slightly crooked bridge of his nose with his index finger. “See? No man wants to be punched by Luka. Maybe he doesn’t look like it, but he can be pretty dangerous when pushed.   He’s like a piece of dynamite. One little spark and boom!”

“Yes. I know Luka does have a bit of a temper.”

“And more than his share of scars,” Davor said. “Like the scars he has on his body...” He shook his head, closing his eyes. He had seen them. The doctors had been ‘relieved’ to see that the soldiers hadn’t done even more.

Kerry swallowed. “He was...he was tortured?”

“You can’t expect kindness from monsters.” Davor fumbled in his pocket for a moment and extracted a pack of cigarettes. “He’s not eating well, is he? Or sleeping?”

“No...” she whispered. “Not enough, from what I can tell.”

Davor sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t guess I’m allowed to smoke, eh?”

“No, not in here.”

“Luka allows his emotions to run his life... far too much. It gets him in trouble all the time.”

“We all have emotions, Davor. Without them I think we’d be pretty boring, wouldn’t we?”

Davor’s eyes flickered slightly, like light shining through green ice. “It isn’t healthy for him. He wears his heart on his sleeve.”

“Is that entirely bad?” Kerry challenged.

“Yes! For him, it is.” Davor smiled to soften his words. “He needs to toughen up a little. Get past all this...misery. He’s punishing himself because of what happened. Only he doesn’t seem to realize that it wasn’t his fault.”

“Well, we can agree on that,” Kerry said.

“No, it wasn’t. See how illogical it is for Luka to think it is his fault?”

Kerry swallowed. “Logical or illogical, Davor, it’s still there. As a lawyer you would certainly have to know about the guilt reflex. He can’t help it. It’s because he’s so emotional...”

Davor glared at Kerry for a moment, and she thought again of how different he and his brother were. A lion and a leopard. Lions are bold. Leopards are cautious. But both are dangerous and powerful creatures, capable of inflicting great harm.

“Then he needs to stop being so emotional. It’s not good for him. He doesn’t have any kind of...of...defense mechanism. My brother has always been a lone wolf, but the wolf walks with a limp, you know?” Davor said, his voice flattening out into something Kerry figured he used in closing arguments. That made Kerry smile. It’s funny...when we were teenagers, all the girls were after Luka. They just melted when he looked at them. But he never noticed them.” Davor flinched slightly, then continued. “I remember one of the girls... Tatjana’s older sister, in fact...who said that Luka just doesn’t know. Women see him and go crazy.” Davor could see she was a little uncomfortable now, and shook his head, sighing.

Kerry didn’t know why he was telling her this, but Davor was looking at her with something like curiousity in his eyes. He cleared his throat and continued. “Tatjana was the only girl who caught Luka’s eye. When she died, I was pretty sure it’d take him a while to notice someone again.”

Yeah, Kerry thought. He’s noticed Carol Hathaway.

“I don’t guess Luka goes for any specific type,” Davor continued. “He never had a preference for blondes, redheads, or brunettes. Tatjana just happened to be very dark...”

Kerry shrugged and picked up a pen, drawing a circle on a pad of paper.

“He never liked blondes very much. And there aren’t many redheads in Croatia...” Davor frowned, finding it frustrating that Kerry wasn’t looking up at him. He wanted to try to read her expression, but so far, she wasn’t giving him any clear signals. This was an interesting woman. Rather pretty, in a pinched kind of way. Delicate bones, nice figure, interesting eyes. Not beautiful in the stricter sense of the word, but interesting.

Suddenly, Mark opened the door and poked his head in. Kerry dropped the pen on her desk. “Yes?”

“We’ve got a five-car pileup, lots of patients coming in.”

“I’ll be there.”

Mark left, and Davor stopped Kerry before she made it out the door. “How about we have dinner tonight? Luka won’t be off until...?”

“Ten tonight,” she said, keeping her eyes down.

“Good. Then we can have dinner, talk a bit more... about other things.”

“You’ve only been in Chicago for, what, twenty-four hours, and you’re already asking an almost perfect stranger on a date?” Kerry had to admit-he had nerve.

“You’re no stranger. Luka has mentioned you a few times when we’ve talked. He called me for the first time at Christmas.”

Kerry got up, straightening her blouse carefully, and he quickly rose to his feet as well. Somehow, Davor wasn’t as impressive as Luka-there was something rough-hewn about him, though he did seem like a likeable fellow. Still, she thought it would be   interesting to get to know this man a little better. Maybe he could give her some insight into how to handle Luka.

“All right,” she said. “Dinner it is.”

“I saw a restaurant across the street...”

“Not Doc Magoo’s. Someplace that serves food with some flavor.”

“Sure,” Davor smiled. “I’ll pick you up here...when do you get off?”

“Five o’clock.”

“Okay.” He gave her a little bow that had a shade of Luka in it. She had seen him do that on occassion. A sign of respect that seemed so sincere and honest in Luka, yet so... well, more of an affectation than anything else when Davor did it. She smiled at him, though, and quickly left.



Davor was more than a little disappointed in his ‘date’ with Kerry Weaver. Through the entire meal, she had found sly ways of turning the conversation back to his little brother, but he was experienced enough with women to see right through her business-like ways when she talked about Luka. It had begun to annoy him, and when he brought her home, he wasn’t sure of what to say to her. It was obvious, to Davor, that Kerry was interested in Luka not as a colleague but as a man. Why not? Davor thought as he walked her to her front door. She was a pretty, intelligent woman, and Luka certainly had a lot to offer to the opposite sex. As far as Davor was concerned, Luka needed to move on with his life, and if he could find happiness with someone like Kerry, he was all for it.

She was fumbling for her keys, and Davor leaned lazily against her door.

“I take if you’ll be around tomorrow to see Luka?” she asked. “He gets off at four in the afternoon.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, I’ll probably see you again tomorrow. Good night, Davor.” With that, she unlocked her door and went inside.

Davor stood there a moment, shaking his head, laughing to himself. Just the same as always, he told himself as he walked back to his rental car. Women just go to pieces over Luka.



Luka wasn’t exactly thrilled to be sitting with Davor on a bench by the lake, looking out at the water. This was his place, and he felt uncomfortable bringing anyone out here. But Davor had insisted on going for a walk, despite the icy blasts coming off the water.

“So are you enjoying your new life here in Chicago?” Davor asked, blowing on his hands.

“I’m getting used to it,” Luka answered.

Davor ran a hand through his greying hair and looked at his brother. Luka stood up and began pacing. Like a wolf in a cage, just like always, Davor thought. He’s still a wreck.

“Yeah, I guess you have plenty to get used to. Strange thing is, you’re allowing yourself to be alone when it isn’t even necessary. You live in that woman’s basement when you could upstairs...”

“Upstairs?” Luka looked at his brother, pausing in his tracks.

“Yeah. You know...you could be...I mean, you could...never mind.” Luka would only get angry, he figured. “Kerry told me about Carol Hathaway. That she’s become a good friend to you.”

Luka shrugged. Davor watched him, then continued. “Is she a blonde or a brunette?”

“Who?”

“Carol Hathaway!”

“Oh. Brunette.”

“Luka, don’t you know how unhealthy that is for you?! What are you doing, trying to drive yourself nuts?”

That was the wrong thing for Davor to have said. Luka glared at his brother, then he turned and stalked away. But Davor was made of sterner stuff than that. He got up and followed his brother.

“So it’s just like always, eh, brother? You have to face the facts, Luka. They’re dead. It’s time to move on, to get over it. It wasn’t your fault!”

Davor kept a distance from Luka just the same-out of striking distance. It never really occured to Davor that he was bigger and heavier than Luka. He knew his younger brother wasn’t in good shape, but that hardly mattered.

“Go back to Split, Davor,” Luka snapped. “I don’t need you lecturing me again. What, are you going to put me in a mental hospital again? Have them serve me tapioca pudding and tell me everything is okay?”

“I would do whatever was necessary. Damn it, Luka, this can’t go on. You can’t keep torturing yourself.”

Luka stood for a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was staring out at the water, almost oblivious to the cold. “Remember when we were kids, Davor? When we’d sail out for hours, sometimes for days at a time. Remember that time we got into that storm?”

Davor nodded. He had been terrified, but too proud to show it. Luka had been cool-headed through it all, never flinching against the lightning and the rough waters. He had simply kept working, challenging the seas to consume him, fighting every inch of the way until the storm passed. If he had been afraid, there had been no evidence for Davor to see. But that was Luka. So stubborn, so determined to survive. Davor had to admit that he probably wouldn’t have been able to survive Vukovar. That he would still be in that mental hospital in Pescara...

“You were scared, weren’t you,?” Luka asked, looking at him.

“I was,” Davor admitted.

“I’m just tired now,” Luka said quietly. “I’m so tired it’s a wonder I can get out of bed in the morning. It’s a wonder I can stand up to shave and take a shower.”

“Then for God’s sake, Luka, get some help,” Davor said, desperation in his voice. He felt so awkward, so clumsy, around Luka. And as sensible and logical as he was, Davor still loved his brother, and earnestly wanted to help him and see him happy again. “You’re going to die if you don’t do something. Please, Luka...just do it, okay?”

Luka looked away again, staring out into the water. “I promised Kerry I would.”

“Then do it. Do it for Tatjana. Do it for Croatia or God or the American way or whatever. Just do it.”

“I’ll try, Davor,” Luka said wearily. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” He exhaled slowly. “Now...how ‘bout we go see a movie, eh?”

“It’s expensive,” Luka said. “Six bucks to get in, three and a half for popcorn, another three for a Coke...”

“Are you kidding?!”

“No.  I’m quite serious.”

As usual, Davor thought. “For a lousy movie?  Twelve dollars for a movie?”

“Yeah.”

Davor burst into laughter, clapping his brother on the back. “Maybe we can find one of those cheap places.”

“You mean a porn theater? I’m not interested.”

That only made Davor laugh harder. He hugged his brother again, and for a moment, Luka rested his head on Davor’s shoulder, closing his eyes. It had been too long since he’d been around his over-protective brother. It was good to have him around now.

The two brothers walked along the water’s edge, talking and even laughing together, slipping easily back into Croatian, letting the pain of their past disagreements slip away into the cold, early February afternoon.


To be continued...