Abby's standing out here. She's shaking in spite of the warm weather. A cigarette dangles from her long, thin fingers.
"That'll kill you, you know."
She jumps at my voice, but she seems to calm herself with a long, slow inhalation of smoke, tar and nicotine.
"So what? We're all dying. Some people just take too long about it."
I've never known Abby to be such a cynic. Not this bad. Never. "Abby, come on. It's 80° out here and you're shivering. Tell me...talk to me."
"She really did it this time."
"Maggie?"
"Yeah. She did it right this time."
"Abby, I'm so sorry." Figures. She only smokes when she's really upset, usually about her mom.
"Don't be. We all knew it was only a matter of time. She never wanted help. But in my house...with my knife." Abby's eyes begin to tear and she takes a drag from her cigarette.
"Pass that over here."
"No way, Carter, this nicotine's all mine. I need it." This starts her tears falling. She lets the cigarette drop to the ground and I stamp it out with my foot. It's a relex. Her shoulders are shaking violently with her sobs. I slip my arms around her and hold her close. Her tears are falling on my back. My face is in her hair. She grew it out long again and I can smell her shampoo. Her legs press against mine, and I feel something in her coat pocket. I pull away from her and reach in, pulling out a small bottle of...something. It has no label.
"Abby, did you..."
"No." She points to the unbroken seal. "I...I don't know..."
"Abby, you worked too hard for this. I'm not gonna let you ruin all these years for one drink." I toss the bottle in a nearby garbage can, hearing the glass break when it hits the side. She begins to sob again, crying harder.
"Thank you, Carter." She mutters. I hold her closer, then reach up. I wipe her tears away with my thumbs. She smiles weakly at me, but her tears continue to fall. I reach up to wipe them away again, and find myself leaning closer to her. My lips rest on hers, and miraculously she doesn't pull away. Rather, she puts her arms around my neck and pulls herself closer. I stop. This is wrong. She's too upset...to vulnerable.
"I'm sorry, Abby. I shouldn't have... you're with Luka. I know that. I'm sorry."
"Carter, it's OK. I...if anyone should have stopped it, it should have been me."
"Yeah, but you didn't. And you should have. And I never should have started it."
"John...it's OK." She puts a hand on my arm. "It was...nice."
"So you mean you're not mad?" She shakes her head.
"You've always been there for me, John. Thank you."
I swallow, my mouth is dry. "Abby...I have a shift...I have to go inside...I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have..." She silences me with a finger to her lips.
"Carter, don't apologize. I'm not sorry. You don't have to be either. There are circumstances...and there are things we do that seem wrong but end up right. So we'll just wait and see. I have to go too...the funeral home called. They want me to go pay them. Damn money grubbing...I have to go."
"Want some company?" She nods. I put an arm around her, walking her to my Jeep. She has stopped shaking now. We get in and drive away. When we pull out from the next red light, she puts a hand on my arm.
"Thank you, Carter. For being there for me. It means a lot to me."
"That's what friends are for." I reply, my heart breaking, sure my voice will crack before I can get out the words. But it doesn't, and she smiles at me. I swallow the lump in my throat and fix my eyes on the road as we drive. I can't look at her smiling anymore. It hurts too much to see her and know that she's with Luka, and that I am just her friend. But friends forever, that's for sure.