A/N: Having pondered the positives and negatives of the last set of reviews, I reached some conclusions. First, it clarified for me my intent. I don't feel like I am writing a novel. My goal is to invoke specific characters as played by specific actors, and to evoke emotion in the reader. I do break rules, but with the intent to convey certain things about the way I feel the actors play their characters - the pregnant pause, the cadence of speech, the stop and start of something difficult. There are emotions, moments, thoughts, words I want to highlight. Those paragraphs were tortuous and with reason. That was exactly what I wanted to convey. Having said that, I will bring more awareness to my choices so that, I hope, I effectively use my misuses. . . so to speak. Because my true intent is for the reader to see the scene played in their head - as I see it played in my own as I write.
Whatever It Takes
This was it. He was either going to keep all the promises he had ever made her, or break them. All of them. "I've been a jerk."
She smiled at him. "No."
"I'm sorry about last night. I hurt you. I didn't mean to. . ."
She shook her head. "You didn't. . ."
The words came out raspy, whispered. "Did he. . .did he. . .hurt you?"
Abby looked at him with eyes full of sorrow. "I hurt myself."
"He shouldn't have. . ."
"No, he shouldn't have."
"I know you're hurting too. I just. . .I just. . .lost it . . . I thought I could handle it. . .but. . .it would be easier if I didn't love you so much."
"I feel the same way."
"It's hard for me to know. . . what happened and to know . . .how much I let you down."
"You didn't. I let myself down."
"So, what do we do now?"
"Remember what I told you about part of why I wanted to come here . . . to Croatia?"
Luka nodded.
"Because I felt. . .I realized that there is this whole part of who you are that I know nothing about, that I didn't. . .couldn't really understand why you had to stay here so long, and I've decided that I want to. I want to know you. All of you. Even the parts that haven't included me. So, maybe, if you think about . . . learning about my. . .about alcoholism. Understanding what alcohol does to me and why I drink . . . used to drink. We. . .we really read each other wrong. . .and. . .I think. . .I think we can make it better. . .even better than it was. . .if it's what we want. . .if we both try. . ."
Luka nodded again and leaned into her. She stroked his hair. "We have a lot to fight for Luka. . . each other. . .and. . ."
"Mama. . .Tata. . ."
They looked at each other. "Joe"
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They spent the next day wandering the city. He was at home. She could see it. Comfortable in a way she'd never seen him in Chicago. It was a beautiful place. It felt like everyone in the neighborhood knew Luka and Joe and were politely curious about his long MIA wife. The women in particular gave her long looks of assessment. Or was it envy? But they were kind and friendly, and most made efforts to practice their English with her. She had never really had a home, other than Luka and Joe. Luka had. And he'd had it again these past few months. After dinner, Abby put Joe down and found Luka sitting on the sofa, lost in thought. Abby watched him. It was different between them. How could it not be? God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change. Maybe it always would be. . . her eyes filled. . . of all the mistakes to make. The courage to change the things I can. She'd made the one most likely to blow up her life. . . she'd always had the knack for that. And the wisdom to know the difference. She couldn't go back. But she could try to move them forward. . .if it was right. He was a million miles away. Away from her. Go. . .go find him. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder, felt his hand reach for her arm.
"Luka. . .If I could. . .I would change what happened. . .take it back. . ."
"I know."
"Where are you?"
"I was just. . . just thinking. . .how we got. . .here. After I left Croatia, I wasn't with anyone for a long time. . .Then there . . .was. . .you. But I couldn't move forward not really, and I couldn't go back either, I tried that too. So. . .I was stuck - for a long time. Then. . .you came to my door one night when I thought nothing was ever going to work out for me again, and that maybe I deserved that. . .and you stood in front of me, Abby and you. . .you let me in. . .and it. . . . . .none of it mattered any more. I was done with all of it. . .everything in the past. I could move forward, but I couldn't go back. Then. . .when my father got sick. . .and we. . .were. . .settled. . .I just. . .I just. . .I wanted. . .I wanted him to know me again, and I wanted to know him again. I wanted to make it right . . .and I made . . .I made everything wrong. I don't think I've gotten anything right . . . except you . . .you and Joe - you're the only right things . . . and I . . .I made it wrong. . . "
"No, you didn't. It's not wrong, Luka. Not unless we let it be. I love you. I do. . .We can make it right. . ."
"Can we?"
"Yes . . .I know we can . . .I'm not good. . .I haven't been good at sticking with things, Luka. Not. . .not when it gets too hard . . .too scary. I'm fighting for you. . .for us. . .as long as it takes. Unless. . ." You have to. You have to love him enough.
"Unless?"
"Unless you tell me . . . to go. If that's what you need, I'll do that. . .I'll do that for you. . .I know. . .I know you want to get past this, but if you can't. If you ask me to leave you, if that's what you need. I'll go." If there was another plan for her life, she'd have to accept that. Please don't tell me to go.
"Don't go. I want it to work. I do."
There. She could breathe again. "Okay. Then I'll fight . .as long as you want me to." He finally turned to look at her. She cocked her head, smiled at him. "I'll even. . .I'll. . .keep track of. . . . your socks. . . . . . . . . " There it was. She could still make him smile. It wasn't wrong. She could feel it.
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Luka sat and listened. Abby had told him he didn't need to talk, to "share" his first time. Or really any time. He could just go and listen. Hear stories of lives torn apart by liquid fire. Abuse, neglect, gambling, infidelity, loss of work, you name it. When they drank. And when they were sober it was different. All different. Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. He wasn't sure if it was reassuring or terrifying - probably both. In some ways they were very lucky. She hadn't killed anyone. She could have. She had driven. She had worked. She'd had sex. One time. With someone that wasn't him. And he would have to get over it. If anyone should be able to understand, he should. It was utterly terrifying to realize that her whole life, his life, Joe's life . . .their future hung on whether she was strong enough not to open another bottle. . . ever again. He really had not understood. Had never understood. But he was beginning to, and he was determined to help her. Whatever it took. One "mistake" was nothing in the grand scheme of the nightmare that could become their life. That was clear. If you're not helping her, you're hurting her. But on our honeymoon, you'll be serving me martinis wearing nothing but this. Had he been insane? Blind? Stupid? Or all three? He'd just have to learn how to help her. This was the part they could do together. He knew it.
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They sat cuddled on the sofa after Joe was asleep. A few days had gone by. Better days. Luka had seen Abby reading her AA Big Book and asked to look at it. While a neighbor watched Joe, he'd gone to an open meeting with her and translated. He'd started watching how she was with his touch. Paying attention. She seemed quite content for him to take her hand or put his arms around her, kiss her lightly, but any gestures past that .. .she'd tense. It reminded him. . .taking care of women during the war. . .after the war. . .and in Africa, he'd go to touch them, to examine them, help them, and they'd just freeze, withdraw, pull into themselves. Some had been raped. For others it had been a "voluntary" violation. Sex in exchange for security or food or protection, something. Whatever. . .had happened. . . however it had happened, she'd been violated. She'd traded her body for something that night. Maybe for something he'd never understand. But he knew, he knew that if he'd come home when she asked, it would have never happened. He'd blundered in and handled it very badly. He wouldn't . . .couldn't make another mistake with her. But where did it leave them? There must be stand-by flights, you could get a red eye, fly home tonight. How had he missed the desperation in her voice? He had let her down, and they had both paid a price for that. If it came down to it, maybe she had paid the bigger one. She'd relapsed. It was a relapse, not an affair. That was what could do them in. Her drinking. They would live or die by her sobriety.
"Luka? I was thinking .. . Do you think Ana and Niko would take Joe for the weekend? You know, so we can maybe go somewhere, just the two of us. . .get away. . .be alone?" That part had always been so easy for them. Ironic that, somehow, this time they had begun to reconnect emotionally before they could physically. It was time though. Time to stop being afraid that it wouldn't be the same, that she would still feel tainted for him. Time to have some faith.
"I'll ask. You. . .you want to be alone?"
"Yes. . .I want to be alone. . .with you." She took a deep breath. They had to find a way through this and soon. It was getting old.
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Luka hesitated before picking up the phone. "Niko? It's Luka. Listen. . .I know you. . .I know you're not happy about things. But I need a favor."
"What?"
"Abby and I, we need to get away for the weekend. I was wondering, if you, if you would watch Joe for us?"
He heard a sigh.
"She's my wife, Niko. I love her. Do this for me?"
"I'll have to convince Ana. She's not very happy about the way you treated Tatiana."
"The way I treated Tatiana? What did I do to Tatiana?"
"You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"She was hoping . . ."
"Hoping what?"
"The two of you. . ."
"The two of us? She's my sister for. . .You've got to be kidding?"
"She hasn't been your sister for a long time, Luka. . ."
"Niko. . .look. . .I'll talk to her. . .I didn't know she thought. . .it was something it wasn't, but please. . ..convince Ana. . .take Joe. . .I don't want to leave him with someone who's not family for a couple of days. Please. I have to do this. I want this. Help me out."
"Okay, okay, I'll talk to her. I'll talk to her."
"Thanks."
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They'd made the drive, arrived, settled in . . . all with barely a word to each other. She was nervous. He was nervous. Abby bit her lip. This was never going to work. Maybe it was time to push the reset button, start over.
"You want to go out to dinner? I was thinking that place on the corner." Abby looked at him questioning, hopeful.
"Sure."
"Okay, go ahead. I'll meet you there."
"Why?"
"Just. . .you'll see."
Luka shrugged and followed orders.
He sat at their table, tapping his spoon nervously. What was taking her so long?
"Excuse me? This seat taken?" She was dressed in a long skirt, boots and a form-fitting sweater her long hair glimmered in the low lighting of the restaurant.
He raised his eyebrows reflexively as he stood. "What?"
"My name is Abby Lockhart. Nice to meet you." She put out her hand, and looked at him pointedly. It came under her breath. "Play along."
Luka eyed her. . .okay. . ."Luka Kovac." He walked over to pull out her chair. "Please, join me. It seems my date ditched me tonight anyway."
"Really? Not very nice of her . . ."
"No. . .but I see I've been rescued."
"So Luka Kovac. . .Are you from around here?"
He shook his head at her, took a sip of his water. . .Okay. She wanted a game. He'd play. "Originally. . . but I live in Chicago now. . ."
"Do you like Chicago?"
"It has its good points."
"What brings you here?"
"My father died."
"I'm sorry." She looked at him intently. "Tell me about him. . ."
She was earnest now, looking at him with those chocolate eyes, making him melt. So for the first time, Luka did. He told Abby about his father. What he was like in his last months, uncomplaining, brave, telling stories, all kinds of stories of his life and his parents' lives. How Luka and Niko had taken notes and recorded them for their children. How Josip had been both disciplinarian and guide when Luka was young. The time they spent at the ocean as a family, learning to swim. . . and by the grace of a friend with a boat, to sail. How he had loved to watch his father paint. To see the colors ebb and flow and what emerged. To watch his parents dance at parties. To hear his father sing.
She sat and listened, mesmerized. He'd never told her. . .but then again, she'd never asked. She hardly wanted to pause to order dinner lest the spell be broken. And when he ordered sparkling water instead of beer or wine, she could have kissed him.
When he had finished his story, he said, "So that's why I'm in Croatia. Why are you here?"
"I'm here . . .I'm here because. . . because for my entire life. .I've been one of those people who just gives up when something seems too hard. . . . . .or too scary. . . . . .but. . .I've decided I don't want to do that anymore, and so I'm here. . .to fight for what I want."
"What do you want. . .?"
"The good things." She said it wistfully.
"And they're here in Croatia?"
"Most of them. Don't you think so?"
"I think they're anywhere you look for them."
"Maybe that's true. You see I never. . .really believed that people could change. . . . . .but. . . . . .I'm starting to think they can. . . . . .if they can do the work. . ."
"I don't know. Change can be scary. It can be hard when someone you love changes. . . . . .even for the better."
"You think? Why?"
"Because if they aren't who they were when they fell in love with you. . . . . .then. . . . . .what?" Luka glanced down before meeting her eyes. Nervous.
"Maybe it just makes them love you better. . .the good kind of change I mean." She met his gaze. Sure.
"You think?"
"It's been my experience. . ."
"That's good to know."
There was nervous silence. Do it. "Do you feel like dancing?"
"Dancing?" He was surprised.
"I saw that club across the street."
"You want to go to a club?" Eyebrows up. " There'll be lots of. . ."
"Booze?"
"Yes." He still wasn't sure what the rules were in this new game.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
He stood up and moved to pull out her chair. "Well then. . .after you. . ."
She wanted to touch him without pressure. . .be in his arms with no expectation. . .see how it felt. It felt. . .like coming home. . . like the safest place in the world. . .like the place she never wanted to leave………. like they had way too many clothes on. She smiled.
They were slow dancing to fast music, his fingers laced low on her back, her arms linked around his neck. It was impossible not to think about the last time they'd danced. Their wedding day. When intimacy, when everything was easy. But the gestures, the touch, the whispers of lovers, those were habits too, firmly ingrained in their souls, and in their proximity, barriers dropped, they returned.
She looked up at him. "You ready to leave?"
"Sure. . .Walk by the lake?"
"That sounds. . .really. . .cold. I was thinking. . .of something more. . .physical. . ."
His eyebrows shot up. "I don't think we're going to find any foosball…………………"
"Who said anything about foosball?" She grabbed his hand.
"Abby Lockhart. . .what are you suggesting?"
She smiled. "About my name. . ."
"Yes. . .is that not your real name? Because I knew this Abby Lockhart once. . ." He shook his finger at her.
She hit him with her free hand. "It's been my name. . . but I'm actually. . . I'm thinking of changing it. . ."
"You are?" He was truly puzzled.
"Well. . .you know. . .sometimes change is good and Lockhart. . .has a lot of baggage attached to it. . ."
"Does it?"
"Oh yeah. . .and I'm. . .you know cleaning out the attic. . .and the basement and maybe even the garage. . ."
"Mmmm"
"So I was thinking. . .you know coincidentally, of course. . .and, you know, only if you think it's a good idea. . .that. . .Kovac . . .has a nice ring to it . . ."
"Kovac?" He stopped up short, which stopped her up short, and she was propelled around to face him.
"Yes. . .Kovac. . .Abby………Kovac. . .New woman. . ."
He shook his head. "It's a beautiful name. . .Abby Kovac. I like it." And he pulled her in to kiss her gently, more a question, than a statement.
She pulled back just a little. "Take me home, Luka. . ."
He said not a word, but put his arm around her and picked up the pace.
"I'll build a fire."
While Luka worked, Abby stretched out on the sofa watching.
"I'll just light some candles. . ." He was as interested in stalling as in setting ambiance, and Abby knew it. Finally, he reached to turn out the lamp.
"Don't"
"What?"
"Would you. . .would you leave the light on. I want to see you. I want to be able to see you."
He nodded. Well, she was willing. . .but. . .he'd have to take it slow. He went and sat under her feet, picking them up. Sliding one boot off, then the other. . ."You're a bit over dressed."
She smiled. "It was cold. . .Maybe you could. . .help me with that. . .?"
"I could." First the boots, then the socks, and the silky long underwear which he slipped off and shook his head at, and tossed over his shoulder, making her laugh. This would require patience. Hmmm. He looked at her toes. Toes. . .That would be a pretty safe way to begin. . .start there. . .and work his. . .way up so to speak. . .So he did. . .slowly. . .mouth, tongue, hands, fingers. . .slowly. . .always waiting to feel her tense. . .or relax. . .moan. . .shudder. Her. He would think about her and only her. Them. There was no one else, no one in the world. He'd make himself forget. He'd make her forget. . .forget everything, everyone. . .even her own name. But his name . . . that he heard. . .repeated. . .gasped. . .moaned. . .giggled. . .In time, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his neck. He smelled good. So good. He placed her gently on the bed, removed his own clothes as she watched. He slid in next to her and slipped off what little remained of her clothing. Touching, nothing between them now, feeling, tasting. He felt so good, so incredibly. . .right. It has been so long since they had. . . . . . He was gentle and slow. . . . . .tantalizingly slow. She wanted it, wanted him, she did. It had always been easy for him to lose himself in her . . . and that had not changed. As long as he could look into her eyes. See that she wanted him. . .only him. . .loved him. . . . . .only him. She couldn't take her eyes off him. Off his eyes. The eyes that had seen her through so much. Loss and triumph, birth and death, the heights of joy and the depths of misery. Always those eyes. They were the last things she wanted to see on this earth. His eyes. It was him. It was right. It was hard to imagine anything being more right. They moved together slowly, it was hypnotic. Trancelike. She shifted under him, moved her body, signaling she wanted to move. They could always read each other, and this was no different. She looked down on him now. Her husband. Holding hands, moving as one. . .no space. . .no distance. . .only ripples of pleasure. Every nerve firing. His name. Whispers in Croatian. Nothing in the world but the two of them. . . . . .and the most intense feeling rippling through them again and again. She shuddered with pure pleasure. . .His name. . .His eyes. . . . . .
Luka lay on the bed. . .his wife draped over him. . .the feel of her skin on his more luxurious than satin or silk. . .the sheet wrapped haphazardly around her waist and the tops of her thighs, twisted, tangled. He stroked her hair. . . and thought. . . .
Abby lay, languid, listening to his heart beat. It had started at a gallop, slowed to a trot and now was plodding quite contently under her ear. . .Maybe you couldn't un-ring a bell but you sure as hell could drown it out with a whole damn brass band.
She smiled, and he felt it. She lifted her head to look at him. "Penny for your thoughts."
"I was thinking . . . . . .I was thinking about Ames. . ."
Abby's forehead crinkled. What the. . .? "You've got to be kidding me. . ."
Luka smiled. "I was. . .I was thinking how I didn't get what he needed to hear from me till I had a gun pointed a foot from my heart. . .and you know, maybe it was the same with you. Maybe I just wasn't going to get. . .what you need from me. . .any other way. . ."
"Luka. . ." She kissed his chest, pressed her face into him.
"But. . .Abby. . .if you ever. . .If I'm not getting it again. . .what you need or want. . .Could you do me a favor? Could you just pull a gun on me?"
She looked at him as if he were crazy for a split second, before he smiled a rueful smile at her, shrugged, and she shook her head. She took her finger and ran it over his lips. "I'll start packing heat."
His eyebrows went up. "I don't know what that means, but it sounds. . .interesting. . ."
Abby smiled and rested her head on his chest again, and Luka sighed, content. She was his.
Again.
And again.