~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~
Title - Help Me
Author - Lydia En. E. Ways
Email - ERKeff@aol.com
~*~o~*~
CHAPTER ONE
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Abby gazed out the fogged window of the train, letting her eyes skim the poverty stricken houses. The houses (if they could be called houses at all) had pealing paint and roofs that caved inward. The lawns had uncut grass that had grown to half the height of the rusted pick-up trucks that sat in the dusty yard. Abby turned away from the window, and tried to focus on why she was making this trip.
It started last night with the phone call, a simple phone call. She and John were enjoying a nice dinner together. There were candles on the table, and she and John had whipped up some recipe from "Bon Appetite". They had just sat down for their dinner, when the phone rang. Abby ignored it, letting the machine take a message.
"Umm. My name is Pete, and I am looking for an Abigail Lockhart? Your mother, Margaret W- Wyczenski, is in my hotel."
Abby's eyes grew wide with dread at the mention of her mother's name. She stole a glace at Carter, then leapt from the table and grabbed the phone. "H- Hello?"
"Umm. Are you Abigail?"
"Yes, it's Abby. What is it about my mother? "
John stared at Abby as she clutched the phone, absorbing every word the man muttered, her face turning more and more pained every second that passed. After five or so minutes, Abby returned to the table and buried her head in her hands.
"She's sick again, John. She is sitting in a hotel room somewhere in Massachusetts."
"What happened?"
"God, I hate this shit!" Abby muttered to herself as she wiped the tears off her face with her palms. She picked up her face and stared at Carter, "I don't know what happened; the man wouldn't tell me, but I have to go out and get her."
"Abby, my mother lives on the Cape. Do you want to stay there with me? So you don't have to pay for a hotel?"
Abby started to chuckle, until she saw he was serious. "John, we are dating, not living together... Besides, I can manage by myself."
"Don't be silly! Let me come with you! For support, or whatever..."
"I'm not weak, John!" she interrupted, growing more aggravated with every second that passed. "I grew up with this, I can handle it!"
"I didn't say that you weren't strong, but."
"I'm fine, Carter." Abby snapped. John looked up, and met her fiery gaze.
"Damn it! I pushed too far...step back..." John thought to himself.
"When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"Do you want me to get you a plane ticket or anything?"
"No," she answered coldly, signaling the end of their dinner.
John stared at her sympathetically. He wanted to help her. Why wouldn't she let him? They had been friends for so long. He got up from the table, and grabbed his coat.
"I'm really sorry about Maggie. Have a safe trip out, and here is my cell phone number if you need me."
He walked up to her, and planted a kiss on her forehead, like a father would kiss a relentless angry child. He dropped a sheet of paper next to the telephone with his number on it, and left her apartment.
Abby continued to stare at her plate of uneaten food as John kissed her, and as he solemnly walked out of the apartment. When she heard the door close, she lifted her face as a single tear drifted down her face.
~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~
I just wanted to thank my two wonderful betas, Katie and Anne, who have been extremely helpful, and have put up with the worst spelling and grammar mistakes ever! If you read this, can you please, PLEASE email me and let me know that you read my story. I love criticism, cause any criticism is constructive! So, please just let me know if you read it.
Lydia
Title - Help Me
Author - Lydia En. E. Ways
Email - ERKeff@aol.com
~*~o~*~
CHAPTER ONE
~*~-o-~*~
Abby gazed out the fogged window of the train, letting her eyes skim the poverty stricken houses. The houses (if they could be called houses at all) had pealing paint and roofs that caved inward. The lawns had uncut grass that had grown to half the height of the rusted pick-up trucks that sat in the dusty yard. Abby turned away from the window, and tried to focus on why she was making this trip.
It started last night with the phone call, a simple phone call. She and John were enjoying a nice dinner together. There were candles on the table, and she and John had whipped up some recipe from "Bon Appetite". They had just sat down for their dinner, when the phone rang. Abby ignored it, letting the machine take a message.
"Umm. My name is Pete, and I am looking for an Abigail Lockhart? Your mother, Margaret W- Wyczenski, is in my hotel."
Abby's eyes grew wide with dread at the mention of her mother's name. She stole a glace at Carter, then leapt from the table and grabbed the phone. "H- Hello?"
"Umm. Are you Abigail?"
"Yes, it's Abby. What is it about my mother? "
John stared at Abby as she clutched the phone, absorbing every word the man muttered, her face turning more and more pained every second that passed. After five or so minutes, Abby returned to the table and buried her head in her hands.
"She's sick again, John. She is sitting in a hotel room somewhere in Massachusetts."
"What happened?"
"God, I hate this shit!" Abby muttered to herself as she wiped the tears off her face with her palms. She picked up her face and stared at Carter, "I don't know what happened; the man wouldn't tell me, but I have to go out and get her."
"Abby, my mother lives on the Cape. Do you want to stay there with me? So you don't have to pay for a hotel?"
Abby started to chuckle, until she saw he was serious. "John, we are dating, not living together... Besides, I can manage by myself."
"Don't be silly! Let me come with you! For support, or whatever..."
"I'm not weak, John!" she interrupted, growing more aggravated with every second that passed. "I grew up with this, I can handle it!"
"I didn't say that you weren't strong, but."
"I'm fine, Carter." Abby snapped. John looked up, and met her fiery gaze.
"Damn it! I pushed too far...step back..." John thought to himself.
"When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"Do you want me to get you a plane ticket or anything?"
"No," she answered coldly, signaling the end of their dinner.
John stared at her sympathetically. He wanted to help her. Why wouldn't she let him? They had been friends for so long. He got up from the table, and grabbed his coat.
"I'm really sorry about Maggie. Have a safe trip out, and here is my cell phone number if you need me."
He walked up to her, and planted a kiss on her forehead, like a father would kiss a relentless angry child. He dropped a sheet of paper next to the telephone with his number on it, and left her apartment.
Abby continued to stare at her plate of uneaten food as John kissed her, and as he solemnly walked out of the apartment. When she heard the door close, she lifted her face as a single tear drifted down her face.
~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~
I just wanted to thank my two wonderful betas, Katie and Anne, who have been extremely helpful, and have put up with the worst spelling and grammar mistakes ever! If you read this, can you please, PLEASE email me and let me know that you read my story. I love criticism, cause any criticism is constructive! So, please just let me know if you read it.
Lydia