The walk to Shirley's Sandwiches was uneventful. Britta tried to keep the conversation light, focusing on movies and television. She had her suspicions about what had upset her friend, but kept them to herself, at least for now. Better to wait until they were sitting down with food in front of them to explore Abed's problems.
She found out that Abed wasn't a big fan of the latest regeneration of Inspector Spacetime ("too derivative") and that he was really looking forward to the Avengers 3 ("it's probably going to be better than the first one but not as good as the second"). Britta, who hadn't even known that the Inspector could regenerate and was only aware of what an Avenger was because of her husband, just nodded and tried not to let her ignorance show too much. Abed seemed happy carrying the conversation on his own, though, and she felt him relaxing as they made their way across Greendale's downtown.
Britta smiled as the familiar looking sign, complete with a grinning cartoon version of the owner holding a plate full of sandwiches, came into view. She ate lunch here most days ever since she'd opened her own practice, mostly alone but sometimes with her husband when he had the time. It was a part of her routine, a sign that a stressful day was almost over and that she would soon be free to go home to her family.
They'd beaten the usual lunchtime rush, an advantage of showing up early. The place was far more empty than usual, with only a couple of patrons munching away. Usually the place was packed, but right now there wasn't even a line to order.
"Bri-tta!" came a familiar lilting voice as they entered. Shirley stood behind the counter, an apron tied around her waist. "You're early today. Oh, and you brought Abed with you. That's nice!"
"Hi Shirley!" Britta said, grinning at her friend's enthusiasm. Shirley was always this welcoming, even though they went through this nearly every day. Occasionally, when the place was really packed and Britta couldn't hear herself think among the din of hungry, noisy people, Shirley would let her eat in her office in the back. A few, if Shirley was feeling particularly overwhelmed, the restaurateur would even join her there and they would spend Britta's lunch break just talking. That'd happened more often earlier in the year, after the death of her business partner. Pierce's death had hit Shirley particularly hard, even though the whole study group had mourned him.
One friend's emotional crisis at a time, Britta she thought to herself.
"I'll have my usual." Britta said.
"And I will have…" Abed said, his eyes raking across the large menu board behind Shirley, "the BLT, I think."
"Do you want fresh fruit, veggies, or French Fries with that pumpkin?" Shirley asked, already ringing up Britta's order.
"French Fries. And a Coke."
"Great! It'll be about ten minutes. Why don't you guys go grab a table? I'll bring your food out to you when it's ready."
Britta and Abed found a booth in the far corner of the shop, far away from the other diners. They sat opposite each other, Abed looking around the restaurant. Britta realized that he'd been here a lot less often than she had, and might not even have visited since Shirley had had the place redecorated. It was a homey looking aesthetic, and Shirley had been careful to balance the need for lots of places for people to sit with her desire to present an open, welcoming space. She'd done a pretty good job, Britta thought. Even though lots of people ate here every day, she always felt there was a place for her here, though of course a lot of that probably had to do with being best friends with the owner. But judging by how well Shirley was doing, business-wise, Britta guessed that other people thought the same way. The fact that the sandwiches were always delicious didn't hurt, of course.
"So… Abed," she began. "You seemed pretty upset earlier. What's bothering you?"
Abed looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact. "Annie and I… we had a fight." Britta had suspected right, after all.
"Couples fight, Abed. It happens." Britta said, keeping her voice low and sympathetic.
"I know, but… it got heated. Things were said… well. I woke up this morning on the couch, not that I slept much. And I just had to get out." He was beginning to tense up again, his face fixing into a frown. Britta noticed that his hands, laid out on the table in front of him, had begun to tremble. She reached out and grasped them with her own hands, stilling them. He seemed to be having a lot of trouble formulating his thoughts into words, and It hurt her to see him this upset.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Abed. Do you want to talk about what you were fighting over?"
Abed looked up at her then, and she could see the tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "Annie wants to have a baby."
Ah. Things were beginning to click for Britta. She knew Abed's childhood had not been a happy one, known it since their first year at Greendale, in fact, ever since he'd shown her that first student film. With all his fears relating to abandonment, it made sense why that prospect would terrify him. She knew from experience, though, that it was better to let Abed talk, and let him come to these realizations on his own. He'd always been able to sort through his emotions as long as he was given the room to talk about them. So she simply asked: "She told you that?"
"She's been dropping subtle hints for a while now and I guess… I've just been ignoring them. Then they started becoming… a lot less subtle. Then last night-" He cut himself off, looking away again.
When it became clear that he wasn't going to continue on his own, that that particular memory was still too fresh in his mind to talk about, Britta decided to go another route. "What do you feel, when you think about becoming a father?"
Abed seemed to consider this for a moment, but before he could answer, Shirley had arrived with their food. Britta hurriedly pulled her hands back to her side of the table.
"Here's one grilled Portobello sandwich with peppers and mozzarella for you Britta, with a side of baby carrots," she said, placing Britta's usual order in front of her, "And one BLT for… Abed? Are you alright?" Shirley was looking at Abed with a concerned look on her face.
"I… thanks Shirley." He said, avoiding the question and forcing a painful looking smile onto his face. "This looks delicious."
Britta looked between her two friends, unsure of what to do. In retrospect, maybe coming to a restaurant where they both knew the owner to have this delicate a conversation was a bad idea. It was conflicts like this that had lead her to discontinue therapy sessions with Abed in the first place. Despite her suggestions at the time, Abed hadn't sought out treatment from other professionals. Britta had tried to talk him into it, but eventually let it go. Maybe that had been a mistake, given Abed's current mood.
Thankfully, Shirley didn't press, though she cast a worried look back at their table as she walked away.
"Anyway, Abed," Britta continued once she was out of earshot, "How does the concept of being a father make you feel?"
"I don't know." Abed said, frowning again. "I guess… scared? Really scared. Like I felt back in junior year, when I thought Troy was never coming back."
Britta did not particularly like reliving that memory, or their first disastrous therapy session that followed. Still, she pressed on. "What do you think it is that scares you about it?"
"I think about a child… my child. And I wonder if he'll be like me. Broken." Abed looked down at his hands again.
"Abed," Britta said firmly, "You are not broken." Britta was starting to get really concerned now. She'd never heard Abed use that word in relation to himself before.
"And then I think… what if it's not genetics that does it? What if it's me? What if I don't- can't love him enough, and it… it breaks him."
Britta noted his use of the male pronoun for his speculative child. It definitely sounded like a lot of his issues with his own mother and father were coming into play here.
"Have you talked to Annie about any of these feelings?" Britta asked.
"No… no I guess I haven't. I hadn't really put them into words, before now."
"What would you do, when she brought up her desire for a child?"
"Ignore her, I guess? Change the subject." His frown deepens. "I guess I've been pushing her away lately, so that it'd come up less. I've been spending more and more time on my movies…"
He was silent again, staring down at his untouched sandwich.
"Abed? Do you think you were ignoring her because you were afraid of having a conversation about it?"
Abed nodded, but again said nothing, just sat there, blinking down at this BLT.
"What were you afraid of?" Britta asked. She was starting to get really worried again. Being this withdrawn was always a big warning sign with Abed. She decided she was going to have to press a little harder. "Were you… were you afraid that if you brought up these concerns you have, that she'd leave you?"
And that's when the tears that had been welling up finally broke through. Abed let out a long, strangled sob, covering his face with his hands and weeping openly.
"Abed!" Britta cried, shocked. She got up quickly and slid onto his bench, grabbing his trembling shoulders. She should never have brought him into a public place for this discussion. Wouldn't have, if she'd known he was this fragile emotionally. Thankfully the only other customers in the restaurant were seated far away, and either didn't notice Abed's outburst or pretended not to. Shirley was looking at them from behind her counter, her hand covering her mouth, but she kept her distance.
Britta held Abed for a while, rubbing his back and laying his head on her shoulder. The cries he was making were raw, almost primal, as if Abed didn't have the presence of mind to shape them into anything other than a formless wail. This fit wasn't as bad as some of the others he'd had, but it hurt Britta all the same, pulling her heart down into her stomach. She felt tears of her own building up, and she quietly shushed Abed, running her hand through his hair and rocking his body back and forth until his sobbing stopped. He was still shaking, and Britta could feel the raggedness in his breathing as he gulped at the air.
"Well…" Britta said, trying to come up with something to say to break the tension, "I think we hit on something there."
Abed straightened, pulling away from Britta. He ran the back of his hand over his cheeks, drying his tears. Britta handed him a napkin, and he blew his nose before giving her a weak smile.
"Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm feeling a little better now. I think I needed that."
"Abed, Britta said after a moment, one hand still placed on his shoulder. "I can't tell you whether you and Annie should have kids. That's a decision only the two of you can make. And I can't tell you whether your kid will be neuroatypical or not. Wherever you lie on the autism spectrum, it's going to be roll of the dice, just like it is for every parent. Yes, your chances might turn out to be a little worse than the average couples, but that's not a guarantee of anything." She paused momentarily, deciding if she should reveal something. "If it makes you feel any better, Troy and I worried about the same sorts of things, when we were talking about having Jules."
"Really?" Abed asked, sounding surprised.
"Really. I was worried that because of my age, she might be born with any number of problems, autism included. But Troy and I decided that it was worth the risk, and that no matter what we were going to take that baby and surround it with so much caring and understanding and acceptance that she couldn't help but grow up in this world knowing she was loved. And I know, between you and Annie, that any child the two of you have will have the same thing. I've seen the two of you together with Julia. I think, out of any of the rest of the Group, you're her favorites. I know your baby would never feel unloved.
"And Annie loves you Abed. I remember your wedding. I'd never seen her, or anyone, that happy. I don't think she stopped smiling the entire day. I know she's not going to leave you just because you admit that you're afraid of being a father. She probably has all sorts of anxieties about it too. And I know it must be hard to talk to her about yours, especially since it sounds like you don't fully have a handle of them yourself yet. But keeping these feelings bottled up can't be easy on either of you."
Abed sits there for a moment, not moving. He's not shaking anymore either, though. Finally he looks up at Britta and smiles, and even though his eyes are still a little sad, Britta can tell that what she said had gotten through.
"Thanks Britta. You're a good friend."
She smiles back, then draws him in for a hug.
"You always have people that love you, Abed. Never forget that. And you are not your mother." She holds onto him tightly for a moment, and then releases him. "Now, you better start eating those fries before they go completely cold."
Abed takes her advice, grabbing a fry and biting off the end of it. Britta got up and returned to her side of the table and her own plate of food. They sat in silence for a little while, both eating their sandwiches. Britta's Portobello had gotten a little lukewarm, but it was still soft and juicy. The side of carrots, with their crisp texture, provided a nice contrast.
"Did you take that picture in your waiting room?" Abed suddenly asked a moment later, breaking the silence.
"Huh? Oh, you mean the one with the flowers? No, I wish. I pretty much gave up photography after Greendale. No real time for it, what with grad school and then interning. Then with Julia and opening my own practice…" She shrugs. "Plus, I was never really that great at it to begin with. Did you like the photo?"
"Yeah," Abed nods, "It really resonated with me."
Britta snapped one of the baby carrots in half with her teeth. "It always reminds me of a certain kind of longing… and at the same time of the ability for life to be beautiful, even amongst pain."
"That's a good way to put it," Abed says, before taking another bite of his BLT.
"I'm glad you're feeling better Abed. Do you think you and Annie are going to make it to the dinner this week?" She leaned in, feigning a conspiratorial air, "I hear from Shirley we might finally get to meet Jeff's new girlfriend."
"I don't know. I hope so. I have to apologize to her first. I've been an ass."
Britta smiles. "Something tells me she'll forgive you."
"Maybe," he said noncommittally. "Thanks for talking to me Britta. I hope I didn't make you feel too uncomfortable."
"Abed, I will always be here to talk to you as a friend." Britta said. She pulled a pen out of her purse and began writing a name and number on the back of a napkin. "But it would really make me feel better if you called this number. It's another therapist, a friend of mine I met interning actually. I think she'd really be able to help you, especially if you and Annie consider this baby thing."
Abed takes the napkin, reading Britta's scrawled handwriting. "Cool. I'll do that. I don't think that I was as done with therapy as I thought I was, back when we stopped."
"I'm glad we talked too. Will you call me tonight, and let me know how you're doing?" Britta asked, taking his hand in hers again. Both of them had finished their meals by then, and the first wave of the lunch crowd was beginning to make its way into the restaurant.
"Of course. You ready to go?" Abed didn't seem particularly eager to be in a crowded space at the moment.
"You go ahead. I'm going to talk to Shirley really fast before I head back to the office. Is that okay, or would you rather me walk you to your car?" Britta asked, not wanting to abandon her friend if he still needed her.
"No, I think I'll be okay. I really am feeling a lot better. I'll call you tonight." And with that, Abed made his way out of the shop.
Britta breathed a sigh of relief after he was gone, resting her head on her elbows. That had been a lot more stressful than she had thought it was going to be, and she felt drained, exhausted.
She looked up suddenly as Shirley slid onto the bench that Abed had only a moment ago been occupying.
"He going to be alright?" she asked Britta, still looking worried.
"I think so. I'm sorry about that, Shirley." Britta answered, looking at her friend guiltily, "I shouldn't have brought him in here. I didn't know that was going to happen, but I should have respected your place of business and not brought a therapy session, or whatever exactly that was, in here."
"Oh pumpkin, don't worry about that. I've seen worse breakdowns in here, believe me. Last week a woman started crying in line when Denise told her we were all out of horseradish. And it was a lot busier then, too. I'm just glad to know he's gonna be okay."
"Thanks Shirley." Britta said, beginning to feel a bit better herself.
"Are you gonna be okay, Britta?" Shirley asked, meeting Britta's gaze and reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I know how complicated things got when you were working with Abed before."
Britta sighed. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I just thought today was going to be pretty light." She squeezed Shirley's hand back. "Thanks for looking out for me though."
"Anytime. I gotta get back to work though; things are gonna start getting crazy in here and its Eduardo's first week in the kitchen. You want to take anything to go, a brownie maybe?"
"No thanks. I should get back to the office, try and get a little work done before my next session. I'll see you tomorrow, Shirley, or if not at Jeff's on Thursday." The two friends got up and hugged. Britta was glad, and not for the first time, that their businesses were within walking distance of each other. Having a friend this close made her days so much easier.
