"Let's get some pizza," Abby said firmly, plopping onto the couch in one move.
Carter shook his head in the midst of the newspaper. "We've had pizza for the last four days. Wouldn't you rather have anything else?"
"Lasagna?"
Carter laughed as Maggie sat up across from the two. They both looked over at her as she started talking excitedly again.
"When I was pregnant with Abby," she pointed out from behind her magazine, "all I wanted was Italian food."
"I thought you said you ate burgers and fries everyday," Abby said stubbornly.
"No, that was with Eric," Maggie laughed. "You - all you wanted was Italian food. It was an expensive time for me."
Carter laughed, "I can imagine." Abby shot him a look when Maggie returned to her reading. Carter looked over at Abby, tilting his head sympathetically. "How about some pizza?"
Abby sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed."
"It's seven o'clock, Abby," Maggie said cheerfully. "Come on, let's sit out here for a while. Let's talk. It'll be fun."
Abby brought a phony smile and yawn and said, "No, I'm really tired."
Carter sat back into the couch as she walked to their room. Maggie frowned and threw her magazine onto the table leisurely. They sighed, a second apart, and Carter watched her cross her arms over her chest.
"You have to help me, John," she said. "I'm only trying to be her mother now." Her voice was quiet and sad. His frown deepened as she rubbed fingers over tired knuckles.
"You-you're not doing anything wrong," he whispered, further back into the couch. He was sitting in the corner now. His arm was draped cautiously over the arm of the couch, grasping the end of it in the middle of his heavy eyes' blinking. "She just doesn't know what to do. Given the past and everything."
"You've told me that four times."
"It's true, though," he suggested, raising his eyes a bit. "And she's pregnant. Everything's drama for a little while." He tried to bring a laugh to this, but failed. Instead, he changed his glance to that of the floor and breathed out, his throat suddenly raspier than usual. He swallowed and with a husky whisper he said, "I'm going to talk to her."
She nodded, her frail frown shifting to another phony smile. Just like Abby's. "Okay."
He nodded, too, and brought himself to his feet.
--
"I've said it a million times, Carter," she said. "It's impossible to know what I went through unless you went through it."
He shook his head. "I'm not saying I know what you went through."
She bowed her head and turned away from him to catch her appearance in the mirror, still shadowed from all of the exhaustion of the day.
He came closer to her, giving her a hug. He knew she would leave his hold, but he was wrong. She turned around and hugged him back. He suspected how trouble she had been since her mother arrived. That's how she had been each time her mother visited. He wished he could push it out of the way. He was worried about her. And he hated seeing her unhappy. But he also felt so sympathetic toward Maggie. He had the feeling that she was better now.
And perhaps this time it wasn't just based on a professional opinion. She had always shown how important Abby's relationship with her was, but she was stronger about it. She had explained to Carter about every major and minor step she had taken just to get to Chicago. He wasn't sure if she had told Abby, but she had even received permission from personnel of law and medicine to get here.
He turned her around his arms and peered down at her. "She loves you so much."
Abby closed her eyes and tried to walk away, but he wouldn't let her. "You really don't know, Carter."
"You don't know that she's still sick - "
"She'll always be sick," she snapped.
"But she's better than before," Carter said softly, running hands down her arms. She nodded, barely.
"You know that feeling," she said, scratching her forehead, "when you think you - "
He put a finger over her lips. "You're scared. I know *that* feeling."
She stared at his eyes. It wasn't that lust-enriched stare, it was the final understanding. She nodded, slowly more than ever before, and grasped his torso with weak arms. She fell against his body once more and said in one clouded voice, "I wish you could promise me something."
"I wish I could," he whispered back. "But I know it's gonna be good if you help her a little. Otherwise, nothing's going."
All she could do was nod again. He felt his heart tear from the sides and he held her snug to his side.
"Fine," she said. "I'll talk to her if that's what you want me to do."
"It doesn't matter what *I* want you to do," he said gently, rubbing a finger over the corner of her eyes. "You should mend this with your mother; it's not right. She's your mom."
She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"And I should want her to be here."
He sighed. He kissed the top of her head, which she clearly embraced, and went on to reason, "All you've ever said you wanted her to be was a normal mother. Well, here's your chance. She can be a grandma to this baby, a mother to you."
She nodded. "You're right."
Carter shook his head in the midst of the newspaper. "We've had pizza for the last four days. Wouldn't you rather have anything else?"
"Lasagna?"
Carter laughed as Maggie sat up across from the two. They both looked over at her as she started talking excitedly again.
"When I was pregnant with Abby," she pointed out from behind her magazine, "all I wanted was Italian food."
"I thought you said you ate burgers and fries everyday," Abby said stubbornly.
"No, that was with Eric," Maggie laughed. "You - all you wanted was Italian food. It was an expensive time for me."
Carter laughed, "I can imagine." Abby shot him a look when Maggie returned to her reading. Carter looked over at Abby, tilting his head sympathetically. "How about some pizza?"
Abby sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed."
"It's seven o'clock, Abby," Maggie said cheerfully. "Come on, let's sit out here for a while. Let's talk. It'll be fun."
Abby brought a phony smile and yawn and said, "No, I'm really tired."
Carter sat back into the couch as she walked to their room. Maggie frowned and threw her magazine onto the table leisurely. They sighed, a second apart, and Carter watched her cross her arms over her chest.
"You have to help me, John," she said. "I'm only trying to be her mother now." Her voice was quiet and sad. His frown deepened as she rubbed fingers over tired knuckles.
"You-you're not doing anything wrong," he whispered, further back into the couch. He was sitting in the corner now. His arm was draped cautiously over the arm of the couch, grasping the end of it in the middle of his heavy eyes' blinking. "She just doesn't know what to do. Given the past and everything."
"You've told me that four times."
"It's true, though," he suggested, raising his eyes a bit. "And she's pregnant. Everything's drama for a little while." He tried to bring a laugh to this, but failed. Instead, he changed his glance to that of the floor and breathed out, his throat suddenly raspier than usual. He swallowed and with a husky whisper he said, "I'm going to talk to her."
She nodded, her frail frown shifting to another phony smile. Just like Abby's. "Okay."
He nodded, too, and brought himself to his feet.
--
"I've said it a million times, Carter," she said. "It's impossible to know what I went through unless you went through it."
He shook his head. "I'm not saying I know what you went through."
She bowed her head and turned away from him to catch her appearance in the mirror, still shadowed from all of the exhaustion of the day.
He came closer to her, giving her a hug. He knew she would leave his hold, but he was wrong. She turned around and hugged him back. He suspected how trouble she had been since her mother arrived. That's how she had been each time her mother visited. He wished he could push it out of the way. He was worried about her. And he hated seeing her unhappy. But he also felt so sympathetic toward Maggie. He had the feeling that she was better now.
And perhaps this time it wasn't just based on a professional opinion. She had always shown how important Abby's relationship with her was, but she was stronger about it. She had explained to Carter about every major and minor step she had taken just to get to Chicago. He wasn't sure if she had told Abby, but she had even received permission from personnel of law and medicine to get here.
He turned her around his arms and peered down at her. "She loves you so much."
Abby closed her eyes and tried to walk away, but he wouldn't let her. "You really don't know, Carter."
"You don't know that she's still sick - "
"She'll always be sick," she snapped.
"But she's better than before," Carter said softly, running hands down her arms. She nodded, barely.
"You know that feeling," she said, scratching her forehead, "when you think you - "
He put a finger over her lips. "You're scared. I know *that* feeling."
She stared at his eyes. It wasn't that lust-enriched stare, it was the final understanding. She nodded, slowly more than ever before, and grasped his torso with weak arms. She fell against his body once more and said in one clouded voice, "I wish you could promise me something."
"I wish I could," he whispered back. "But I know it's gonna be good if you help her a little. Otherwise, nothing's going."
All she could do was nod again. He felt his heart tear from the sides and he held her snug to his side.
"Fine," she said. "I'll talk to her if that's what you want me to do."
"It doesn't matter what *I* want you to do," he said gently, rubbing a finger over the corner of her eyes. "You should mend this with your mother; it's not right. She's your mom."
She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"And I should want her to be here."
He sighed. He kissed the top of her head, which she clearly embraced, and went on to reason, "All you've ever said you wanted her to be was a normal mother. Well, here's your chance. She can be a grandma to this baby, a mother to you."
She nodded. "You're right."