Previously on ER, there was a sick Croatian boy and a sick Am"Eric"an boy. Luka and his friend Gordana were waiting for the former to arrive in the States, while Abby fled to attend to the latter when he showed up in Des Moines. This upset Carter, whose grandmother had just taken a nap and been nailed to her perch.
We open with Gallant, who's pulling the old "turn your head and cough" in the hallway with some guy who'd probably rather get a private room for this kind of ball-juggling, except that the last time he did that he paid by the hour for a nasty case of crabs. Gordana rushes toward him in search of Luka. "Try Trauma One," Gallant says. And since Gordana's only been there for one day and wouldn't know what the hell that means, she naturally immediately goes to the correct room. Luka is paddling some poor Joe whose heart stopped. "Back for more punishment?" Luka Croatians pleasantly. Gordana urgently exposits that Ante's condition got so much worse that his panicked mother smuggled him onto a plane by himself. Luka pauses to consider this while Joe Heartbeat struggles to find one. "Clear," he finally says, shocking his patient. Gordana adds that Mercy can't set up for the surgery for another two weeks. Luka stops again and all but scratches his balls. "Some juice, please?" Joe Heartbeat begs. "BEEEEEEEP," his machinery counters. Sorry, Joe. No more paddling today. Luka casually calls the time of death and leaves with Gordana. "He can't wait [two weeks]," Gordana breathes.
Stephen Keaton trots down the stairs of Gamma's mansion. The closed-captioners give us a voice-over lead-in to the scene that the editor decided to mute: Carter is talking to the family lawyer about checking over the will before it's read, so that he can absorb it. They emerge into the hall. "I didn't realize you were here, [Stephen]," the lawyer says, surprised. "I flew in three days ago," Stephen says pleasantly. The lawyer awkwardly stammers that he'd called New York to offer his condolences, to which Stephen replies that Eleanor lives there alone now. The lawyer coughs up a toenail and takes his leave. "I didn't realize estate lawyers made house calls," prods Stephen, pouring himself a drink. Carter stiffly shares that the Foundation called an emergency meeting for next week and the lawyer was preparing him for it. Then he drops the bomb: Gamma's will appoints Carter president of the Foundation. Stephen slowly turns around, trying not to gape and failing. "I see," he finally spits. "I think that would be a good thing." Carter clearly doesn't, but only because he is allergic to money -- unless, of course, it pays for a car and an apartment and nice clothes and a rented restaurant. "It should be you, Dad," he offers, not too convincingly. "I guess that's not what she wanted," Stephen simmers. Carter tries to pretend that it's just a convenience issue, what with him living in Chicago, but Stephen knows he's just been rodgered with a hot poker. "She put you in charge of the family fortune and left me with a bachelor's trust fund," he says coldly. "I don't think it was a question of geography." Carter feeds his high horse some sugar cubes and explains to Stephen that Gamma was completely disappointed in him as a son and as a father, and figured he was too pathetic and spineless to run to the store, much less run a foundation. "You could sugar-coat it a little," Stephen says, wounded. Carter nods. He looks pasty and puffy today. Stephen suggests that this is a good opportunity. "Not one that I wanted," Carter whines. "Now I'm stuck having to run the damn thing, or walk away." Okay, yeah, Gamma's flipping you the bird from the great beyond, but you could at least act a little less whiny about it, Carter. Stephen shrugs that Gamma basically screwed them both from her perch at the pearly gates. Then he checks his watch and notes that it's almost time to leave. "We waiting on Abby?" he asks. "She's meeting us there," Carter replies.