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E.R.
Union Station: Coming Home
By: Emma Day
Part Four
Susan retreated from the chaos into the relative quiet of the
doctor's lounge. She saw her old locker - it had a different
name on it now - and sighed. Walking to the window, she
leaned against the wall and stared out.
Everything had changed. He hadn't smiled when he saw her. He
looked like he wished he were a thousand miles away - or that
she was. She should have called. He hadn't even looked at
her, he just stood there fidgeting, and shuffling his feet.
This wasn't what she'd imagined.
WHAT DID YOU EXPECT? she asked herself. But she couldn't
answer that one. She couldn't understand why he had looked so
embarrassed. It wasn't like they hadn't spoken since she
left.
"Hey Dr Lewis, I heard you were back." Carter poked his head
around the door.
"Just visiting," she told him. "How's it going?"
"Good." He grinned. "Sorry, got to go, we're busy."
"I noticed."
"Want to lend a hand?"
"Oh no," she laughed. "But thanks for the offer."
"Anytime."
PERHAPS HE WAS JUST SHOCKED TO SEE ME. She thought as she
sank down into a chair. I SHOULD HAVE CALLED. THIS WASN'T
FAIR.
The chair was comfortable, and the long, sleepless journey was
catching up with her. She yawned, and considered going back
to the hotel. But, she was comfy where she was, and she'd
agreed to meet Carol. She yawned again, and closed her eyes.
Sleep drifted in quietly, and she sank into it with relief.
A sudden noise startled her, and she sat up with a jolt. Mark
was half way through the door, staring at her.
"Hi," she said. "I was asleep."
"I didn't know you were here, sorry...."
"That's OK," she yawned and stretched. "How's it going out
there?"
"Ok. It's pretty quiet now."
An awkward silence lengthened between them. Mark didn't look
at her, but walked over to his locker. He looked like he was
about to go home.
"So, how long are you in Chicago?" he asked, breaking the
silence. He stood at his locker, with his back to her. She
knew him well enough to recognise the strain in his voice.
"A week," she replied.
"That's...nice."
He grabbed his coat, closed the locker and turned to face her.
"Maybe we'll see you again while you're here?" His eyes roamed
about the room, looking at the floor, the door, anywhere but
at her.
"I hope so."
He nodded. "Good. Well, I have to go." He looked up at her
for a split second, and gave a tight smile, before he headed
for the door.
"Mark?"
"What?"
"I'm going for a drink with Carol and some of the others
later, do you want to come?"
"Tonight?"
She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. "Yeah, at about
ten."
"I'd love to, but I've already made plans."
"Can't you change them?"
He looked up at that, and she was surprised to see a flash of
anger in his eyes. "Just like that?" he said. "You turn up
out of the blue, and I'm expected to drop everything?"
"No!" She was taken aback at his tone.
He pressed a hand to his eyes, and shook his head slowly.
"I'm sorry, Susan," he said wearily. "It's been a long day."
"Aren't they all?"
He smiled slightly at that, and dropped his hand to his side.
"I'll try to make it if I can."
"Great," she grinned at him, and a smile crept, almost
reluctantly, over his face. "It's good to see you Mark," she
said, walking over to him.
"It's been a long time," he said. Even as the words left his
mouth, he dropped his eyes and she saw his face colour. She
knew they must both be thinking of their last parting. She
felt her cheeks get hot, and was glad she didn't have to meet
his eyes.
"Mark, I..."
The door flew open and Doug bowled in. "Susan...Hi. Carol
told me..." he stopped when he saw Mark. "Oh, am I
interrupting?"
"No!" they said together.
"I was just going," Mark walked quickly to the door. "See you
later," he said, and left without looking at her again.
Susan watched him go. "Is he Ok?" she asked Doug.
He shrugged. "I guess. He's better than he was. He took it
pretty hard when you left."
"He did? He never said anything."
"You know Mark." Doug poured himself a coffee. "But he
didn't need to say anything did he? You must have known,
after what happened at the station."
"He told you about that?"
"You broke his heart, Susan."
"Don't say that," she sat down heavily. "I didn't want to
hurt him, but what could I do? I had to go."
Doug drank his coffee in silence.
"Anyway," she continued, "that's all in the past now. We've
both moved on with our lives."
"I guess you have," Doug replied. "So, you mind if I drop in
on you and Carol later?"
"Sure," she said with a smile. "Why not?"
***
Mark sat on the train home, staring at nothing. He felt his
world turning upside down again. Just when he thought he was
moving on, putting her behind him, there she was staring him
in the face. It just wasn't fair. He could handle it on the
phone. He could make himself sound like he should, say what
he should. But not in person. Her presence was too strong,
his arms ached to hold her; their separation had done more to
strengthen than to quench the desire. His heart ached. There
was no other way to describe it, the pain was as real and
tangible as ever it had been. Eight months it had taken him
to reach this point of equanimity, and in one hour she had
overturned all his hard work. And in six days she would be
gone. In and out of his life, turning it upside down and
abandoning it again.
He closed his eyes. Perhaps if he'd had some warning, he
could have prepared himself. But the shock of just seeing her
there, so achingly familiar, had been too much. He shook his
head. If only she'd called first. But it was just like her.
She'd decided to leave without even mentioning it to him. She
did what she liked, without any thought for him or anyone
else. He frowned. YOU'RE GETTING BITTER, MARK GREENE, he
told himself. But so what?
By the time he got home it was nearly ten, and he decided not
to go meet Susan and Carol. He slumped on the sofa, and
watched TV. MY PLANS, he told himself, ARE TO EAT, DRINK AND
SLEEP.
The television burbled in the background, but Mark could think
of nothing but Susan. She had been going to say something
earlier, before Doug had walked in. He shuddered to think
what it might have been. I'M SORRY I HURT YOU. WE CAN STILL
BE FRIENDS. YOU'LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE. He groaned aloud. He
couldn't bare that. Of all things, he never wanted her to
look at him with that expression of pity he had seen at Union
Station.
He sighed. She was here for a week. It was too long, and it
was too short. Too long to suffer his reawakened hurt. Too
short to rebuild their friendship. He had to do something; he
had to protect himself.
At length, sleep claimed him, and Mark drifted into an uneasy,
restless slumber.
***
He woke late, stiff from sleeping on the sofa. The TV was
still on. He sat up, stretched, and hunted for the remote.
He was on a day off, and glad of it. After showering, he went
out for a paper, and came back to find his answer-phone
flashing at him. He played the message as he made breakfast.
"Hi, Mark, it's Susan. Just calling to say I'm sorry you
didn't make it last night, but Carol's having a little party
round at her place tonight, and I hope you can come to that.
I think it starts at eightish. Well, hope to see you there.
Bye! Oh, today's Wednesday, by the way."
He was glad he had missed her call. He didn't want talk to
her. Well, that was a lie. He longed to talk to her, but it
was just too painful. Carol's party was a problem, though.
He knew he would have to go. If he didn't, Susan would know
he was avoiding her, and then she'd want to know why. He
couldn't face another scene. JUST GET IT OVER WITH, he told
himself. Just play the part, and she'll be gone.
The thought struck him hard. GET IT OVER WITH. She used to
be a bright point in his life; even her name used to make him
smile. But everything had changed. Now she was a cause of
pain, a dark shadow best avoided.
"Damn," he whispered to himself. "Why did I ever do it? If
only...." But that was a dead end he'd been down a hundred
times. It was done. It had happened, and now he had to deal
with it.
The phone rang again, and he let it. Eventually his machine
picked up. "Hi this is Mark, I'm not here right now. Leave
a message."
"Hey Mark, it's Doug. Pick up. I know you're there. Pick up
the phone Mark."
Knowing he'd regret it, Mark did as he was asked.
"I was in the shower," he lied.
"Right," Doug said. "So, where were you last night?"
"Sleeping. I was shattered."
"Susan missed you."
"Oh," He kept his voice as even as he could. "That makes a
change."
"Come on Mark," Doug insisted. "I know what this is."
"What 'what' is?"
"You're avoiding her."
"What if I am?"
"She talked about you all evening."
Mark cringed. He could just imagine it. POOR MARK, I REALLY
HURT HIM. IS HE OK? He closed his eyes. "What do you want,
Doug?"
"Carol's having a party tonight. You should come along."
"I'll think about it."
"Just do it Mark. You think too much."
"Bye Doug."
"Be there."
"Goodbye."
Putting the phone down, Mark knew Doug was right. Maybe he
could just stay for half an hour, show his face and leave.
Suddenly a thought hit him, and a slow, dark smile crossed his
lips. Of course. It was obvious what he had to do. With a
thumping heart, he reached for the telephone again.
Part Five