Abby Lockhart and John Carter continued to stare at one another in the
midst of the companionable silence that had formed. She had said so much in
such a short amount of time. Carter felt his heart beginning to beat faster
as he tried to collect his thoughts and gather together his emotions for
all that he wanted to say to her.
Abby got lost looking in his eyes there was some sort of light there she had never seen before. She was a bit taken back that her story had rendered him speechless, and his silence in turn made her silent. She loved this. Moments like these, when all she had to do was look at him and she could feel that swelling of her heart and the flush rise to her face. She felt healthy when she was with Carter; just being near him was such a great thing. They connected in speech, and they connected in silence. More important was the silence she thought, because they could say it all, but just the holding onto one another without words or touching was the most powerful experience she had ever had. Her feelings for him had grown to this untouchable place, where before she had felt the connection in the beginning of their friendship, but as time passed no other relationship in her life could surpass the one that she kept with this man. Even in anger she'd rather be with him than anyone else in the world.
Carter gathered his wits about him and tore his eyes from hers to wake himself up. He looked down at the table. He rubbed his hand through his hair and he began.
"Abby I am a jackass. I didn't tell you about Susan and I should have instead of you walking in on us in the lounge that day. I thought my heart had jumped out of my body and a frog into my throat when you walked in. I would never intentionally create a scene to hurt you. It really was unexpected, the whole situation, I was devastated by our talk by the river, but I was angry too. I didn't want you to have feelings for Luka anymore, I wanted you to forget him and when I saw that you wouldn't forget him or that you still remained involved in his life, his issues, I needed to separate myself from you and from that hurt. I am sometimes selfish and arrogant and I wanted things to be a certain way, for you to be a certain way and they are not, you are not. I should have taken you up on your offer of coffee and pie the day that Sobricki was brought in but I was in a trance, I was so angry and confused and disgusted, I couldn't handle myself never mind another person.."
She interrupted him here, " John, I know, and I know reaching out to you after the fact was futile, I should've found you right away and let you know that he was there in the hospital so it wasn't such a surprise and a shock, but things were difficult at that time. I just thought that he might be treated without you ever knowing. I kept hope through the old sayings "out of sight out of mind," and "what you don't know can't hurt you type of thing.."
"That's not always true you know, Abby."
"What's not always true?"
"Out of sight out of mind."
He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head, and she understood immediately what he was implying.
Just then the waitress came to the table with the pie. Abby shook herself out of the daze and slid her plate near her fiddling with her fork. She was twisting it around and around, when she looked up he was grinning at her.
"I never said thank you, you know, for attempting to keep me from finding out. You didn't have to protect me from him but I do appreciate that you tried."
She shook her head up and down in silence and took a bite of her pie. She noticed that he had ordered his a la mode and his ice cream looked good. Carter caught her eyeing his scoop and slid it over to her. "Have some."
She scooped some ice cream up onto her spoon and ate it upside down, a little motion that Carter took note of because he had seen her do it before. Had he told her everything he had wanted to say? He thought hard while she was finishing off his scoop. When he looked up again he laughed out loud at the small puddle of ice cream she had left him.
"I guess this is your revenge for the puddle incident of earlier then eh?"
She laughed at him, then a sudden cloud of seriousness passed quickly through her eyes and over her face. She grew solemn and searched his eyes.
"I've missed you." she stated simply.
He saw that her eyes were clear and they did not plead or beg, her statement was bold, strong, and beautiful. He answered her without skipping a beat.
"I've missed you more." She ducked her head a little at this and even beneath her curls he could see her slight blush. She looked happy, was it what he had just said that made her happy? The surging feeling in his stomach told him of possibility. When she looked up again her bright eyes confirmed the potential that lay ahead of them.
"I want you to get better Abby. But I don't want you to do it for me. I want you to do it for you."
"John.."
"No, I'm not finished. I'm happy to be able to talk to you again like this, to come here with you, but I can't ignore the fact that you've been drinking again Abby, and I want you to recover. I have more things to say to you, things that I want to say so badly but I want to know that you've gotten your life in some sort of order first.."
"Some sort of order?" she snorted at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
She felt small palpitations and flutterings around her heart. Were those butterflies or ping-pong balls? She thought about this talk, their talk, and she started to doubt when she saw his pleading eyes. He was asking her to fix herself up, to pick up the pieces, and he was so busy in doing this he hadn't even asked her where she was in recovery or if she was in recovery. Didn't he know that she was okay? Couldn't he tell by the intensity forming between them at all of these new confessions and realizations? It was too much for her to bare, to think that he believed she were saying all of this to him not being in clear state of mind. He meant too much to her for it to be misunderstood. She fought back tears and allowed herself to focus on small things about her so that she would not break in front of him.
She put her hand on her jacket beside her in the booth tentatively. Should she explain what had happened in these past weeks? She didn't think that she could explain anything without him hearing desperation in her voice. She wanted to show him what she had done for herself, and how she had improved, not needing him as her sponsor, but by keeping him in her heart she had been inspired to get well again. She was desperate for things to be normal with him, she had cravings for a functional relationship, but she could hear expectations in his voice that she didn't think she could meet. How much better did he think she could get than where she was right now in her life? He was always raising the bar on her like this.
"Can we continue this later?" she asked him. " I think I need a breather."
"Abby," he started, but she was already up and walking toward the door.
"Don't walk away.." he spoke quietly and to himself because she was already gone. Her reaction to his pleas was typical denial for an alcoholic he thought to himself. He hadn't realized that she was this far-gone. He placed his head in his hands and rewound all of the conversation they had just had. He played the conversation over and over in his head like a broken record.
To be continued..
Abby got lost looking in his eyes there was some sort of light there she had never seen before. She was a bit taken back that her story had rendered him speechless, and his silence in turn made her silent. She loved this. Moments like these, when all she had to do was look at him and she could feel that swelling of her heart and the flush rise to her face. She felt healthy when she was with Carter; just being near him was such a great thing. They connected in speech, and they connected in silence. More important was the silence she thought, because they could say it all, but just the holding onto one another without words or touching was the most powerful experience she had ever had. Her feelings for him had grown to this untouchable place, where before she had felt the connection in the beginning of their friendship, but as time passed no other relationship in her life could surpass the one that she kept with this man. Even in anger she'd rather be with him than anyone else in the world.
Carter gathered his wits about him and tore his eyes from hers to wake himself up. He looked down at the table. He rubbed his hand through his hair and he began.
"Abby I am a jackass. I didn't tell you about Susan and I should have instead of you walking in on us in the lounge that day. I thought my heart had jumped out of my body and a frog into my throat when you walked in. I would never intentionally create a scene to hurt you. It really was unexpected, the whole situation, I was devastated by our talk by the river, but I was angry too. I didn't want you to have feelings for Luka anymore, I wanted you to forget him and when I saw that you wouldn't forget him or that you still remained involved in his life, his issues, I needed to separate myself from you and from that hurt. I am sometimes selfish and arrogant and I wanted things to be a certain way, for you to be a certain way and they are not, you are not. I should have taken you up on your offer of coffee and pie the day that Sobricki was brought in but I was in a trance, I was so angry and confused and disgusted, I couldn't handle myself never mind another person.."
She interrupted him here, " John, I know, and I know reaching out to you after the fact was futile, I should've found you right away and let you know that he was there in the hospital so it wasn't such a surprise and a shock, but things were difficult at that time. I just thought that he might be treated without you ever knowing. I kept hope through the old sayings "out of sight out of mind," and "what you don't know can't hurt you type of thing.."
"That's not always true you know, Abby."
"What's not always true?"
"Out of sight out of mind."
He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head, and she understood immediately what he was implying.
Just then the waitress came to the table with the pie. Abby shook herself out of the daze and slid her plate near her fiddling with her fork. She was twisting it around and around, when she looked up he was grinning at her.
"I never said thank you, you know, for attempting to keep me from finding out. You didn't have to protect me from him but I do appreciate that you tried."
She shook her head up and down in silence and took a bite of her pie. She noticed that he had ordered his a la mode and his ice cream looked good. Carter caught her eyeing his scoop and slid it over to her. "Have some."
She scooped some ice cream up onto her spoon and ate it upside down, a little motion that Carter took note of because he had seen her do it before. Had he told her everything he had wanted to say? He thought hard while she was finishing off his scoop. When he looked up again he laughed out loud at the small puddle of ice cream she had left him.
"I guess this is your revenge for the puddle incident of earlier then eh?"
She laughed at him, then a sudden cloud of seriousness passed quickly through her eyes and over her face. She grew solemn and searched his eyes.
"I've missed you." she stated simply.
He saw that her eyes were clear and they did not plead or beg, her statement was bold, strong, and beautiful. He answered her without skipping a beat.
"I've missed you more." She ducked her head a little at this and even beneath her curls he could see her slight blush. She looked happy, was it what he had just said that made her happy? The surging feeling in his stomach told him of possibility. When she looked up again her bright eyes confirmed the potential that lay ahead of them.
"I want you to get better Abby. But I don't want you to do it for me. I want you to do it for you."
"John.."
"No, I'm not finished. I'm happy to be able to talk to you again like this, to come here with you, but I can't ignore the fact that you've been drinking again Abby, and I want you to recover. I have more things to say to you, things that I want to say so badly but I want to know that you've gotten your life in some sort of order first.."
"Some sort of order?" she snorted at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
She felt small palpitations and flutterings around her heart. Were those butterflies or ping-pong balls? She thought about this talk, their talk, and she started to doubt when she saw his pleading eyes. He was asking her to fix herself up, to pick up the pieces, and he was so busy in doing this he hadn't even asked her where she was in recovery or if she was in recovery. Didn't he know that she was okay? Couldn't he tell by the intensity forming between them at all of these new confessions and realizations? It was too much for her to bare, to think that he believed she were saying all of this to him not being in clear state of mind. He meant too much to her for it to be misunderstood. She fought back tears and allowed herself to focus on small things about her so that she would not break in front of him.
She put her hand on her jacket beside her in the booth tentatively. Should she explain what had happened in these past weeks? She didn't think that she could explain anything without him hearing desperation in her voice. She wanted to show him what she had done for herself, and how she had improved, not needing him as her sponsor, but by keeping him in her heart she had been inspired to get well again. She was desperate for things to be normal with him, she had cravings for a functional relationship, but she could hear expectations in his voice that she didn't think she could meet. How much better did he think she could get than where she was right now in her life? He was always raising the bar on her like this.
"Can we continue this later?" she asked him. " I think I need a breather."
"Abby," he started, but she was already up and walking toward the door.
"Don't walk away.." he spoke quietly and to himself because she was already gone. Her reaction to his pleas was typical denial for an alcoholic he thought to himself. He hadn't realized that she was this far-gone. He placed his head in his hands and rewound all of the conversation they had just had. He played the conversation over and over in his head like a broken record.
To be continued..