Part VII
She'd put it off for too long she knew, but Abby was dreading the encounter, the explanations, the reproach which she knew would be in Carter's eyes. It had been obvious when she rang that he had been waiting for her call, and he had rejected outright the idea of talking over lunch somewhere. She knew he didn't have a shift the next day and groaned inwardly at the idea that this might go on into the night. Not of course that they had the option of going to his place, she thought bitterly. The few visits she had made to his family home had not been encouraging, his grandmother perfectly polite but evincing no warmth toward her. She'd wondered then about his family, the opulence of their surroundings in stark contrast to the frigidity she knew existed between him and his parents. At least her early years had been peppered with the excitement of her mother's manic episodes, with thrilling escapades into the ludicrous. It was only later when the sinister nature of these episodes had become clear and she had learned to expect the inevitable aftermath that she had come to dread them, to draw closer to Eric and to hope that perhaps this time would be different. It never was, of course and in the end she learned to regard her mother as a collection of symptoms to be managed and, when that was not possible, to be avoided. She'd often wondered whether that was really why she'd decided to become a doctor; to foster the belief that people could be fixed. They can't be fixed; she wasn't fixed herself, even now.
Carter had spent increasing periods of time at her apartment in the year that they'd been together. She never felt able to ask him to go, to tell him that she needed her privacy. It struck her as ironic that Luka had always known when to make himself scarce, because they'd guarded their privacy so well even when they were together. In the past year she'd found most of her privacy at work, at least when her shifts hadn't coincided with Carter's. His need to have her near him was becoming claustrophobic and she sometimes felt as though she was under surveillance. It wasn't that she didn't want him there, only . She remembered the time she had spent at Luka's apartment after Brian. She'd surprised herself by taking him up on his offer knowing only that she would feel absolutely safe with him. It had been awkward for her at first, not least because she remembered the last time she'd been there, with Carter. Then the place had been largely empty; now it was his home, comfortable, stylish. Another surprise. She liked it, she liked being there and had been taken unawares by the regret she felt when the time came for her to leave. Shame nagged at her at the thought that she'd been drinking under his roof. He'd never questioned her about why she, who never drank before, was drinking now; perhaps he assumed it was just to get her through a bad patch; perhaps he thought he hadn't the right. And she couldn't tell him, not then.
There had been times, during those weeks, that she'd lain awake, knowing he slept upstairs, wanting nothing more than to have him hold her, to find again the forgetfulness that she had found in his body before. She couldn't do it of course.
"You don't have to talk" she'd told him that first time. And he hadn't, not then and not later. She wondered now whether he had felt she didn't want him to. He'd have been right. She didn't want to hear him speak about his wife, their children, the war. After their first night out she felt that she knew as much as she wanted to. Sometimes, after they'd made love she'd feel able to venture a question and Luka, his guard down, would talk a little, tell her tiny inconsequential things about his life. She knew he'd been happy, had loved and been loved. It was more than she could say and she'd felt a kind of shame in the comparison.
Well, what was the point thinking about it now? They'd settled into a more distant friendship since she'd been with Carter, cordial, cheerful, nothing more. What more could there be, she wondered. She had wondered. Abby sometimes felt as though a distorting glass has been removed from between them, as though she saw him clearly for the first time and sometimes she could not bear to look, fearful of what she might see, what she might feel. She remembered an incident, before she and Carter were together. A lab technician had come down with some test results - she was new and had been sent out to see where the ER was and what it did. She'd been chatting amiably with Abby when she stopped abruptly and said under her breath.
"And who are you?"
Abby followed her gaze to where Luka sat in chairs, speaking softly to an elderly woman brought in by her daughter, confused and frightened. Luka often got those patients.
"Dr. Kovac. Luka." she said, amused.
"Luka. Married?" The tech was looking at him as though he were a menu.
"Nope"
"Attached?"
"No" The technician grimaced a little. "Gay?"
"Er .no" Abby had laughed, absurdly proud of knowing that for a fact.
"Then what?"
"What do you mean?"
"Nasty piece of work? There must be something wrong with him."
"No, no he's a nice guy. It's just that he's a little . complicated."
"Complicated? Well, complicated can be good. Interesting at least."
"Oh, he's that alright." Another laugh, more ambivalent this time. The technician turned to her suddenly
"You seem to know a lot about him."
"We, well we dated for a while"
"Wow. Lucky you. Still, must be tricky."
"What?"
"Working with him."
"No, not really. Like I said, he's a nice guy." And I don't want to talk about this anymore. It was Luka himself who came to her rescue, motioning to her to assist with his elderly patient. And Abby had felt a couple of inches taller as she'd left with him, feeling the technician's appreciative gaze on them.
Ah, well, that was then. She was with Carter now. She remembered how awkward she had felt when knowledge of their relationship became common currency in the ER; had registered Luka's look of mild surprise and felt his almost immediate distancing of himself from her. Cordial, cheerful. Cool.
She'd expected things to be easier with Carter, had thought wistfully of the possibility when she was with Luka, had even approached him, only to be turned down. He'd been right of course; she still had Luka in her blood then. But her and Carter, they'd understood each other so well, and at the beginning it had been a delight. It was only later as she felt herself pulled into the undercurrent of his need that she had started to panic. It hadn't taken long for her to realise the magnitude of his need for her to succeed in weaning herself from the bottle again, and initially it had provided her with the impetus she needed. But it wasn't enough. The meetings, the endless mind numbing meetings, sometimes with him, sometimes not, but always playing a part, feeling the need to smile reassuringly and to accept his reassuring smiles in return. She had wanted to scream. And she had wanted a drink.
Carter's knock at her door made her start.
"How are you feeling?" No kiss. No hug of greeting. He was wary of her.
"Fine. Now. Not so hot yesterday." His look said "Are you surprised?" more eloquently than his words would have.
"Look," she said, "it was a stupid thing to do. I thought I had it under control, but - " she faltered
"But?"
"I was angry."
"You were angry?"
"I felt pressured"
"Which is why you should have gone to the meeting."
"Should doesn't help anyone." she said, exasperated. Neither of them had sat down, but stood in her kitchen, not touching, not really looking at each other. "Do you - do you want some tea?" Absurd.
"No! I do not want any tea."
"The thing is . the thing is that I think I need to be on my own for a while."
"You've been talking to Kovac."
"What?"
"Haven't you?"
"Yes. Yesterday. I thought I owed him an apology."
"You don't owe him anything. I've been talking to him too." Oh, God. Abby had a bad feeling about this. "I told him to keep out of it."
Abby laughed. "I don't think he needs you to tell him that actually."
"You don't? After what you said at his place, you don't think that maybe I should just make sure?" Abby was stunned; Luka had told him.
"What I said?"
"When I tried to pick you up to get you home. You said his name. Clear as day."
Abby was shocked to learn this but simultaneously ridiculously happy. He hadn't told Carter. "I'd just then been talking to him is all." You don't know the half of it.
"Really? How helpful had he been to you?"
"Don't be disgusting."
"You'll forgive me for wondering."
"I was wasted! God, Carter, I know you don't like the guy, but he'd never -" she stopped, realising that she was shouting. "He'd never do that. Why would you even think that?" "Because he doesn't like me any more than I like him."
"So this is about you again? Thank you." Carter recognised that her voice was now dangerously low, and he was a little ashamed of what he'd said.
"I worry Abby."
"I don't know where you're going with this. He didn't make anything of it did he?"
"He doesn't know." Thank God.
"Then ."
"You should stay away from him."
"There you are with should again! He's my friend."
"He's your ex boyfriend! He's like a bad habit. Abby, he's part of the problem."
"No, he's not."
"He is! Have you forgotten? He was never there for you; how many times did you tell me he didn't understand you?"
"I didn't understand him either."
"So why should he be involved; what has he to do with any of this now?"
"Nothing! You can't blame him for any of this! I didn't drink when I was with him." Carter looked at her sharply. Kovac's words. She forged on. "He didn't make me drink. I made me drink."
"You were living with him!"
"He didn't know!"
"No, great relationship you two had there." Abby wanted him to stop because if he continued she'd be forced to defend Luka again.
"Can we stop this?" Carter reached for her but she turned away, pretending not to notice.
"I've thought about this, I really have, and I need to do this on my own now."
"Why?" Her heart sank at the desperation in his voice.
"Because if I get straight while I'm with someone I'll never know that I did it myself! And if I don't make it I'll - "
"Blame me."
"Not exactly."
"You're blaming me now." She didn't answer.
"So that's it?" She nodded, not meeting his eye. "Should I - should I wait?" A shake of her head. "No?" he said incredulously.
"I don't know what I'm going to feel."
"But apparently you know now."
"I know what I have to do."
"Do share."
"Rehab. Or therapy. Maybe both."
"Rehab?"
"Maybe. I have to figure it out. It'll mean time away, three months."
"I know." he said, sourly. Been there, done that, got the souvenir baseball cap. "Jesus Christ, no good deed goes unpunished."
"Good deed?"
"I've only been trying to - "
"You're not my sponsor, and I'm not a charitable cause! See, this is too much about you for it to work for me."
"So, what, I just go now and pretend we never happened? Adopt a kitten?" "We can't do that."
Carter laughed. "No Ma'am, we can't."
"I don't know what else to tell you. "
"Kovac know about this?"
Abby wanted to scream at him that the man had a Christian name "About what?"
"Rehab. You and me."
"No."
"But he will though."
"He'll have to."
"Sure. Well," he said, making for the door, "that's going to be fun."
"What?"
"Watching the bastard trying not to gloat."
"He won't. He doesn't. " He loves me, she wanted to add. "When did he ever give you a hard time about me?" Carter shook his head laughing.
"Boy, you've really bought into it, haven't you? Saint Luka."
"He didn't need to give you a hard time because you did that all by yourself! You need to let if go, John, it'll kill you."
"You would know."
"Of course I would. You need to do the same as me, and you need to do it for yourself and you need to do it soon."
"Whatever" was his final word as he closed the door behind him.
Abby sat in the half light of the summer's evening, terrified of what she'd just done, trying to understand what she felt. She was ashamed to admit that right then what she felt was overwhelming relief. She remembered the crushing, gnawing anguish of defeat which had followed her break up with Luka, and realised that she had fallen into the habit of comparison.
She reached for the 'phone ready now to call her sponsor to whom she had not turned in so long - not since she'd been with Carter. She was half way through dialling when she stopped herself, realising that it was Luka's number that she had started to dial.
She'd put it off for too long she knew, but Abby was dreading the encounter, the explanations, the reproach which she knew would be in Carter's eyes. It had been obvious when she rang that he had been waiting for her call, and he had rejected outright the idea of talking over lunch somewhere. She knew he didn't have a shift the next day and groaned inwardly at the idea that this might go on into the night. Not of course that they had the option of going to his place, she thought bitterly. The few visits she had made to his family home had not been encouraging, his grandmother perfectly polite but evincing no warmth toward her. She'd wondered then about his family, the opulence of their surroundings in stark contrast to the frigidity she knew existed between him and his parents. At least her early years had been peppered with the excitement of her mother's manic episodes, with thrilling escapades into the ludicrous. It was only later when the sinister nature of these episodes had become clear and she had learned to expect the inevitable aftermath that she had come to dread them, to draw closer to Eric and to hope that perhaps this time would be different. It never was, of course and in the end she learned to regard her mother as a collection of symptoms to be managed and, when that was not possible, to be avoided. She'd often wondered whether that was really why she'd decided to become a doctor; to foster the belief that people could be fixed. They can't be fixed; she wasn't fixed herself, even now.
Carter had spent increasing periods of time at her apartment in the year that they'd been together. She never felt able to ask him to go, to tell him that she needed her privacy. It struck her as ironic that Luka had always known when to make himself scarce, because they'd guarded their privacy so well even when they were together. In the past year she'd found most of her privacy at work, at least when her shifts hadn't coincided with Carter's. His need to have her near him was becoming claustrophobic and she sometimes felt as though she was under surveillance. It wasn't that she didn't want him there, only . She remembered the time she had spent at Luka's apartment after Brian. She'd surprised herself by taking him up on his offer knowing only that she would feel absolutely safe with him. It had been awkward for her at first, not least because she remembered the last time she'd been there, with Carter. Then the place had been largely empty; now it was his home, comfortable, stylish. Another surprise. She liked it, she liked being there and had been taken unawares by the regret she felt when the time came for her to leave. Shame nagged at her at the thought that she'd been drinking under his roof. He'd never questioned her about why she, who never drank before, was drinking now; perhaps he assumed it was just to get her through a bad patch; perhaps he thought he hadn't the right. And she couldn't tell him, not then.
There had been times, during those weeks, that she'd lain awake, knowing he slept upstairs, wanting nothing more than to have him hold her, to find again the forgetfulness that she had found in his body before. She couldn't do it of course.
"You don't have to talk" she'd told him that first time. And he hadn't, not then and not later. She wondered now whether he had felt she didn't want him to. He'd have been right. She didn't want to hear him speak about his wife, their children, the war. After their first night out she felt that she knew as much as she wanted to. Sometimes, after they'd made love she'd feel able to venture a question and Luka, his guard down, would talk a little, tell her tiny inconsequential things about his life. She knew he'd been happy, had loved and been loved. It was more than she could say and she'd felt a kind of shame in the comparison.
Well, what was the point thinking about it now? They'd settled into a more distant friendship since she'd been with Carter, cordial, cheerful, nothing more. What more could there be, she wondered. She had wondered. Abby sometimes felt as though a distorting glass has been removed from between them, as though she saw him clearly for the first time and sometimes she could not bear to look, fearful of what she might see, what she might feel. She remembered an incident, before she and Carter were together. A lab technician had come down with some test results - she was new and had been sent out to see where the ER was and what it did. She'd been chatting amiably with Abby when she stopped abruptly and said under her breath.
"And who are you?"
Abby followed her gaze to where Luka sat in chairs, speaking softly to an elderly woman brought in by her daughter, confused and frightened. Luka often got those patients.
"Dr. Kovac. Luka." she said, amused.
"Luka. Married?" The tech was looking at him as though he were a menu.
"Nope"
"Attached?"
"No" The technician grimaced a little. "Gay?"
"Er .no" Abby had laughed, absurdly proud of knowing that for a fact.
"Then what?"
"What do you mean?"
"Nasty piece of work? There must be something wrong with him."
"No, no he's a nice guy. It's just that he's a little . complicated."
"Complicated? Well, complicated can be good. Interesting at least."
"Oh, he's that alright." Another laugh, more ambivalent this time. The technician turned to her suddenly
"You seem to know a lot about him."
"We, well we dated for a while"
"Wow. Lucky you. Still, must be tricky."
"What?"
"Working with him."
"No, not really. Like I said, he's a nice guy." And I don't want to talk about this anymore. It was Luka himself who came to her rescue, motioning to her to assist with his elderly patient. And Abby had felt a couple of inches taller as she'd left with him, feeling the technician's appreciative gaze on them.
Ah, well, that was then. She was with Carter now. She remembered how awkward she had felt when knowledge of their relationship became common currency in the ER; had registered Luka's look of mild surprise and felt his almost immediate distancing of himself from her. Cordial, cheerful. Cool.
She'd expected things to be easier with Carter, had thought wistfully of the possibility when she was with Luka, had even approached him, only to be turned down. He'd been right of course; she still had Luka in her blood then. But her and Carter, they'd understood each other so well, and at the beginning it had been a delight. It was only later as she felt herself pulled into the undercurrent of his need that she had started to panic. It hadn't taken long for her to realise the magnitude of his need for her to succeed in weaning herself from the bottle again, and initially it had provided her with the impetus she needed. But it wasn't enough. The meetings, the endless mind numbing meetings, sometimes with him, sometimes not, but always playing a part, feeling the need to smile reassuringly and to accept his reassuring smiles in return. She had wanted to scream. And she had wanted a drink.
Carter's knock at her door made her start.
"How are you feeling?" No kiss. No hug of greeting. He was wary of her.
"Fine. Now. Not so hot yesterday." His look said "Are you surprised?" more eloquently than his words would have.
"Look," she said, "it was a stupid thing to do. I thought I had it under control, but - " she faltered
"But?"
"I was angry."
"You were angry?"
"I felt pressured"
"Which is why you should have gone to the meeting."
"Should doesn't help anyone." she said, exasperated. Neither of them had sat down, but stood in her kitchen, not touching, not really looking at each other. "Do you - do you want some tea?" Absurd.
"No! I do not want any tea."
"The thing is . the thing is that I think I need to be on my own for a while."
"You've been talking to Kovac."
"What?"
"Haven't you?"
"Yes. Yesterday. I thought I owed him an apology."
"You don't owe him anything. I've been talking to him too." Oh, God. Abby had a bad feeling about this. "I told him to keep out of it."
Abby laughed. "I don't think he needs you to tell him that actually."
"You don't? After what you said at his place, you don't think that maybe I should just make sure?" Abby was stunned; Luka had told him.
"What I said?"
"When I tried to pick you up to get you home. You said his name. Clear as day."
Abby was shocked to learn this but simultaneously ridiculously happy. He hadn't told Carter. "I'd just then been talking to him is all." You don't know the half of it.
"Really? How helpful had he been to you?"
"Don't be disgusting."
"You'll forgive me for wondering."
"I was wasted! God, Carter, I know you don't like the guy, but he'd never -" she stopped, realising that she was shouting. "He'd never do that. Why would you even think that?" "Because he doesn't like me any more than I like him."
"So this is about you again? Thank you." Carter recognised that her voice was now dangerously low, and he was a little ashamed of what he'd said.
"I worry Abby."
"I don't know where you're going with this. He didn't make anything of it did he?"
"He doesn't know." Thank God.
"Then ."
"You should stay away from him."
"There you are with should again! He's my friend."
"He's your ex boyfriend! He's like a bad habit. Abby, he's part of the problem."
"No, he's not."
"He is! Have you forgotten? He was never there for you; how many times did you tell me he didn't understand you?"
"I didn't understand him either."
"So why should he be involved; what has he to do with any of this now?"
"Nothing! You can't blame him for any of this! I didn't drink when I was with him." Carter looked at her sharply. Kovac's words. She forged on. "He didn't make me drink. I made me drink."
"You were living with him!"
"He didn't know!"
"No, great relationship you two had there." Abby wanted him to stop because if he continued she'd be forced to defend Luka again.
"Can we stop this?" Carter reached for her but she turned away, pretending not to notice.
"I've thought about this, I really have, and I need to do this on my own now."
"Why?" Her heart sank at the desperation in his voice.
"Because if I get straight while I'm with someone I'll never know that I did it myself! And if I don't make it I'll - "
"Blame me."
"Not exactly."
"You're blaming me now." She didn't answer.
"So that's it?" She nodded, not meeting his eye. "Should I - should I wait?" A shake of her head. "No?" he said incredulously.
"I don't know what I'm going to feel."
"But apparently you know now."
"I know what I have to do."
"Do share."
"Rehab. Or therapy. Maybe both."
"Rehab?"
"Maybe. I have to figure it out. It'll mean time away, three months."
"I know." he said, sourly. Been there, done that, got the souvenir baseball cap. "Jesus Christ, no good deed goes unpunished."
"Good deed?"
"I've only been trying to - "
"You're not my sponsor, and I'm not a charitable cause! See, this is too much about you for it to work for me."
"So, what, I just go now and pretend we never happened? Adopt a kitten?" "We can't do that."
Carter laughed. "No Ma'am, we can't."
"I don't know what else to tell you. "
"Kovac know about this?"
Abby wanted to scream at him that the man had a Christian name "About what?"
"Rehab. You and me."
"No."
"But he will though."
"He'll have to."
"Sure. Well," he said, making for the door, "that's going to be fun."
"What?"
"Watching the bastard trying not to gloat."
"He won't. He doesn't. " He loves me, she wanted to add. "When did he ever give you a hard time about me?" Carter shook his head laughing.
"Boy, you've really bought into it, haven't you? Saint Luka."
"He didn't need to give you a hard time because you did that all by yourself! You need to let if go, John, it'll kill you."
"You would know."
"Of course I would. You need to do the same as me, and you need to do it for yourself and you need to do it soon."
"Whatever" was his final word as he closed the door behind him.
Abby sat in the half light of the summer's evening, terrified of what she'd just done, trying to understand what she felt. She was ashamed to admit that right then what she felt was overwhelming relief. She remembered the crushing, gnawing anguish of defeat which had followed her break up with Luka, and realised that she had fallen into the habit of comparison.
She reached for the 'phone ready now to call her sponsor to whom she had not turned in so long - not since she'd been with Carter. She was half way through dialling when she stopped herself, realising that it was Luka's number that she had started to dial.