Title: "Taking Flight."
Description: Post-ep for "Hindsight." Third chapter in "The Long Way," a series of Season 9 post-eps beginning with "First Snowfall." Carter's POV.
Author: KenzieGal (a/k/a It's Always Something)
Disclaimer: Carter and Abby do not belong to me - they are the property of the wise and wealthy minds of TPTB at Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Unfortunately, not a wealth of carby material here, in keeping with the eppy's Lukacentric focus. I tried to keep it simple, just using the sweetest of strokes to touch up the edges. It'll be an interesting four- week hiatus - hope everyone enjoys their respective holiday seasons. Looking forward (with fingers crossed) to the promise of what the new year brings.
As always, props to Lanie (a/k/a Sunni) for her unmatched beta skills. And to her and Pemberley for keeping me in touch with my better angels.
Spoilers: Everything during Season 9 up to and including "Hindsight."
Credits: The song playing in the background is "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones, the title track on her critically acclaimed CD of the same name. Another track, "Shoot the Moon," provided the backdrop for Susan's solitary dinner and Luka's barstool encounter with the blonde prostitute in "Tell Me Where It Hurts."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Can I get you something to drink?"
A Boston-laced accent voice broke through the even drone of the engines, once again interrupting my forty winks.
I gazed out the window from my first class vantage point and checked my watch. By my calculations, we were somewhere over Ohio.
Déjà vu all over again.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I politely asked the flight attendant for bottled water.
Sleep deprivation aside, there were things that were different about this flight from the last one I had taken out of O'Hare. For starters, I had left Abby back in Chicago. And instead of a charming older woman, I had the misfortune of drawing a seat assignment next to a young overworked attorney complaining to everyone within earshot about being sent to Boston during the Christmas crunch to take his first deposition.
At least this time I had come prepared.
I pulled the familiar CD out of my satchel bag and popped it in my walkman.
I leaned back against the headrest, closed my eyes and dialed up the Abby channel.
I had a lot to think about.
* * * * * * * * * *
Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song
"So you'll come? I'm having a bunch of people over on Christmas Day. You know, the widows and orphans. Those who can't get home to their families. And those who don't want to."
"I'll try. I'm not sure what familial obligations Gamma is expecting me to fill this year when I get back."
Susan and I strolled along the sunny side of Michigan Avenue on a blustery December day sipping coffee through gloved hands. She carried a large shopping bag from Burberry.
"Still can't convince her to go with you?"
"Who?"
"Oprah. Duh.Abby."
"Nope. It probably isn't a good idea this year anyway."
I had repeatedly dangled an invitation to accompany me to visit my father in Boston where he was closing a major year-end deal. It was his first Christmas alone and he had sounded like he could use some company. She seemed pleased that I had asked her, but I could sense that her heart wasn't in it.
"How's she holding up?"
"OK, all things considered. She tends to talk about them in spurts. Not in the present tense, mind you. Just recollections from the ghosts of Maggie and Eric past."
"You're so good for her right now, Carter."
"Right. I feel like Dr. Phil minus the hysterical female fan base."
She giggled.
"Why? She talk to you?" I asked.
"A little. Her feelings are still pretty raw. She's just trying to get through it all the best she can. And the holidays certainly aren't helping."
"You'll keep an eye on her while I'm gone? From the evil predators who lurk among the Girls' Club?"
"Actually, you would have been very proud of our last Girls' Club outing. We all had a very nice grown-up lunch at the Ritz Carlton. I even got out my headband and pearls. Couldn't tell the difference between us and the mavens of Lake Forest."
I pointed at the shopping bag. "Think she'll like it?"
"What's not to like? It'll keep her warm all winter in this frozen hellhole I can't believe I'm calling home again."
"So what did she get me?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. Seriously though, I think it's nice how you both agreed not to go overboard in the gift-giving department."
I thought about the second gift I had stored in the bottom of my locker.
"Uh, yeah." I tried not to sound too distracted as the sun disappeared behind the clouds.
* * * * * * * * * *
I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In field where the yellow grass grows
Knee-high
So won't you try to come
I walked into the living room carrying my packed suitcase, amazed that everything I needed for my trip to Boston could be found in her apartment.
She was sitting on the couch clad only in her bathrobe, drinking a cup of coffee, her hair still damp from her recent shower.
"So much for not going anywhere," she said sardonically, her lips curling into a tight half smile.
"Still not too late to change your mind." I dropped my suitcase near the door and sat down next to her, inhaling a gentle whiff of apricot-laced shampoo.
"What, and leave all of this holiday cheer?" She gestured toward a tiny boxwood tree that she had brought home a couple of days ago in a moment of apparent weakness, her one concession to the notion that Christmas was happening at all this year.
"No, it'll give you some one-on-one time with your dad and me a chance to catch up on my sleep." She punched my arm playfully.
Despite the fact that I would be back in Chicago in time for Christmas, she had insisted on exchanging presents tonight before we attended Susan's holiday party, I worked the graveyard shift and then caught an early morning flight out to Logan. Something about needing something to hold onto in my absence. And so I indulged her. Surprise, surprise.
I glanced under my wrist to where my watch had slid into its familiar resting place. We were due at Susan's in less than an hour. I walked into her bedroom, reached under the bed and planted the oversized festively wrapped Burberry box at her feet.
"You know, you really should do something about the dust bunnies under your bed."
She looked at the box, then at me, and smiled.
"So how long has this been sleeping under me?"
"Since yesterday."
She had laid a small, neatly wrapped package on the coffee table in my absence.
"You go first."
She carefully unwrapped the box, taking great pains to undo the tape at either side of the package. She stopped for a moment, a faraway look crossing her face.
"On the few major gift-giving occasions - Christmas, birthdays - when Maggie had her act together, she'd always insist that we save the wrapping paper. She loved to line our drawers with it."
I covered her hand with mine for a moment, then withdrew it so she could fold the plaid paper into a neat rectangle.
She stared at the unwrapped box and shook it gently. "Bigger than a bread box."
Finally, she lifted the lid.
I had gotten her a cashmere blanket from Burberry. The sales clerk had described the shade as "eggplant plaid."
"Something to wraps its arms around you while I'm away."
She stroked its soft fringes, then reached over and brushed my lips with her own. "It's lovely. Thank you. I'll use it tonight. I may even share it with you when you get back." Her kiss was warm and sincere.
"Your turn." She handed me my box.
I quickly tore open the paper. "This is how we did it at my house."
Inside a white box, I pulled out a round pewter case, about six inches wide. It opened up to reveal a small travel alarm clock on one side and a picture frame on the other. She had inserted a photo that Eric had taken of the two of us on the steps of the art museum during his visit with Jody. I had one arm around her, her head resting lovingly on my shoulder.
"Get it? The timing thing," she said twirling her forefingers around in the air.
"Timing has always been a problem for us," I postulated, feigning seriousness.
"Not any more. Turn it over."
I closed the case and flipped it over. On the back, she had inscribed,
To JTC, From AWL
"Timing is everything."
Merry Christmas 2002
"Thank you. I'll try it out in Boston."
She got up, thrusting her hands deep into the pockets of her robe. "Well, this was fun. I guess I better go get dressed."
"Not so fast," I said pulling another box out of my jacket pocket. "I have one more."
"Carter, we agreed on only one present."
"Yeah, but rules were made to be broken." I thrust the box into her hands. "Go ahead, open it."
This time, she tore the package open, crumpling the shiny gold paper into a neat ball. She paused for a moment before lifting the lid of the blue velvet box.
She stared at the contents wordlessly.
"Guess it was too hard to find a tornado."
"Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful. Thank you."
She lifted the silver chain up into the light. Dangling from the end was a butterfly with a strand of tiny pearls running down the middle. She fumbled with the clasp, then handed it to me. I placed the chain around her, my fingers lingering for a moment at the nape of her neck.
"I've been rethinking my theory."
"So now, you're rewriting history."
"Something like that. You're not the chaos I originally thought you were. You're much more like the butterfly. Seems like once you flapped your wings, nothing has ever been the same."
"And when exactly did these wings take flight?"
"Hard to say." I stuck my tongue in my cheek, trying hard to find the right words without revealing too much.
"Give me a hint."
"Not now. We should go. But sometime soon we'll finish this conversation."
She fingered the butterfly that perfectly filled the hollow of her throat, then disappeared into her bedroom to get dressed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us
With their lies
We gathered in a circle in Susan's living room opening our Secret Santa gifts. Abby was seated in a club chair to my left, her legs crossed, nursing a cup of coffee, her face bathed in soft light. She looked beautiful tonight behind shining eyes and a kittenish smile, her hair delicately pulled back from her face.
For the first time, I felt like we were a couple. And judging from the looks Pratt was giving Deb and Gallant was giving Harkins, it seemed like we might soon have some company.
Though we had mingled among our co-workers, exchanging holiday pleasantries and playful banter in a comfortable milieu far removed from the hubbub of the ER, we were never very far out of each other's flight patterns. It was a moment I wanted to savor.
All at once, I was jerked back to reality as Chuny crossed the room to hand me my present.
"Well, this one is for Dr. Carter."
I shook the small square box before opening it.
"Toy handcuffs." I twirled them in the air. The group erupted into a chorus of whistles and catcalls.
"The gift that keeps on giving," Deb opined.
Abby leaned over toward me, suddenly anxious to leave. "Are we done?"
"No, you have to open your present," Susan chirped.
"Oh, I've still got the rubber sheets from last year."
Pratt handed Abby a clumsily wrapped package topped with a green bow.
"Let's see who it came from," I said.
"Earrings. I can tell it's earrings," she smirked as she stared at it.
"C'mon, c'mon, open it up." Chuny was growing impatient.
"Is it edible?" Susan wanted to know.
Abby removed the paper revealing a winter scene inside a snow globe.
From the crowd, a quiet round of ohs, ooos and hmms.
"A snow globe." She turned it upside down, seemingly nonplussed.
"Who gave it?" Deb asked.
Susan shrugged.
"Well, I guess your Santa will have to stay a secret," I said as we both stood up. Abby asked Susan where she'd put her coat.
"You're not leaving, are you?" Susan replied looking disappointed.
"I've got to work tonight," I said to a litany of groans. Abby chimed in that she had to work in the morning before disappearing into the bedroom.
I politely inquired about Pratt and Gallant's respective holiday plans. When Abby still hadn't reappeared after several minutes, I knocked twice on the bedroom door before entering.
In the middle of the room, I found her chatting with an obviously drunken Luka.
There was a time in the not too distant past when the sight of her so close to him would have evoked a palpable twinge deep inside of me. But no more. The tide had shifted. We were together now.
"Ready to go?"
"Yup," she replied heading toward me.
"Luka. Missing all the fun."
"Yeah. You should stay."
"Gotta go."
She turned back toward him in the entryway. "Are you working tomorrow?"
"No."
"Lucky for you," I commented.
"Lucky for the patients," he said wistfully.
We drove away in an uneasy silence. At the first stop sign, I placed a hand on her knee, squeezing it.
"Looks like you found your Secret Santa."
She rolled her eyes, then looked at me thoughtfully, apparently surprised by the lack of jealousy in my voice.
"Luka's choice in the gift department spoke volumes about how he views me and our relationship." The words dripped out matter-of-factly, matching the evenness of my tone.
"How so?"
"Trying to always capture me in some darkened freeze frame moment. Like he wished he could keep me in some sort of weird protective bubble. Maybe that's how he felt about his family too. You know, how does that song go -- 'Preserve your memories, they're all that's left for you.' Anyway, he just never "got" me. I'm not sure he ever even tried to."
"It's not the easiest thing in the world, you know."
"What?"
"Getting you. Look how long it's taken me to figure you out." My voice was earnest, in search of validation.
She smiled thoughtfully. "Ah, but you're a more persistent sort. That's the whole point. It's a way you have with people. Most of all with me. And one I've never really thanked you enough for. My life is such a mess sometimes. And there you are in my little push me-pull me world. I know it can't be easy. Or much fun, especially lately. Yet you give me space one minute and hold me all night long the next. You're pushing all the right buttons, these days, Carter. You're giving me exactly what I need."
I pulled up in front of her building. I went around to the passenger side to open the door for her, pulling her out onto the sidewalk. She held onto my hand as she moved ahead of me, pulling me up to the top step.
I touched her cheek with my thumb. "And when you need more than that, you'll let me know?"
"Yeah. And I'll go one better than that. Someday I'll return the favor."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The moment, as in the case of the one surrounding her perfect cigarette, seemed as right as it ever would be.
"I love you, Abby."
Her eyes, warm puddles that could melt butter, whispered she loved me back.
Her lips, salty and sweet, gently reminded me that she "got" me too.
Butterfly kisses.
* * * * * * * * * *
Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you
As we made our descent into Logan Airport, the captain's voice boomed loud overhead requesting the flight attendants to prepare for landing.
I turned off the portable CD player and pulled off the headphones.
"I want to know where it's taking me." I could hear my voice mouthing the words from that seemingly long ago morning along the shores of Lake Michigan.
What did I hope to find there?
A picture perfect moment, frozen in time, like the one in Abby's snow globe?
Or a chance to see what the road passed by in all its uncertain glory?
After the ebb and flow of the past few months, was I any closer to knowing?
If you love something, set it free.
Where had I heard that before?
Maybe, Susan was right. I should write for Hallmark.
I gingerly fingered the clock resting in my lap, its silver case shining brightly in the noontime sun.
Time would tell.
* * * * * * * * * *
And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me
* * * * * * * * * *
Description: Post-ep for "Hindsight." Third chapter in "The Long Way," a series of Season 9 post-eps beginning with "First Snowfall." Carter's POV.
Author: KenzieGal (a/k/a It's Always Something)
Disclaimer: Carter and Abby do not belong to me - they are the property of the wise and wealthy minds of TPTB at Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Unfortunately, not a wealth of carby material here, in keeping with the eppy's Lukacentric focus. I tried to keep it simple, just using the sweetest of strokes to touch up the edges. It'll be an interesting four- week hiatus - hope everyone enjoys their respective holiday seasons. Looking forward (with fingers crossed) to the promise of what the new year brings.
As always, props to Lanie (a/k/a Sunni) for her unmatched beta skills. And to her and Pemberley for keeping me in touch with my better angels.
Spoilers: Everything during Season 9 up to and including "Hindsight."
Credits: The song playing in the background is "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones, the title track on her critically acclaimed CD of the same name. Another track, "Shoot the Moon," provided the backdrop for Susan's solitary dinner and Luka's barstool encounter with the blonde prostitute in "Tell Me Where It Hurts."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Can I get you something to drink?"
A Boston-laced accent voice broke through the even drone of the engines, once again interrupting my forty winks.
I gazed out the window from my first class vantage point and checked my watch. By my calculations, we were somewhere over Ohio.
Déjà vu all over again.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I politely asked the flight attendant for bottled water.
Sleep deprivation aside, there were things that were different about this flight from the last one I had taken out of O'Hare. For starters, I had left Abby back in Chicago. And instead of a charming older woman, I had the misfortune of drawing a seat assignment next to a young overworked attorney complaining to everyone within earshot about being sent to Boston during the Christmas crunch to take his first deposition.
At least this time I had come prepared.
I pulled the familiar CD out of my satchel bag and popped it in my walkman.
I leaned back against the headrest, closed my eyes and dialed up the Abby channel.
I had a lot to think about.
* * * * * * * * * *
Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song
"So you'll come? I'm having a bunch of people over on Christmas Day. You know, the widows and orphans. Those who can't get home to their families. And those who don't want to."
"I'll try. I'm not sure what familial obligations Gamma is expecting me to fill this year when I get back."
Susan and I strolled along the sunny side of Michigan Avenue on a blustery December day sipping coffee through gloved hands. She carried a large shopping bag from Burberry.
"Still can't convince her to go with you?"
"Who?"
"Oprah. Duh.Abby."
"Nope. It probably isn't a good idea this year anyway."
I had repeatedly dangled an invitation to accompany me to visit my father in Boston where he was closing a major year-end deal. It was his first Christmas alone and he had sounded like he could use some company. She seemed pleased that I had asked her, but I could sense that her heart wasn't in it.
"How's she holding up?"
"OK, all things considered. She tends to talk about them in spurts. Not in the present tense, mind you. Just recollections from the ghosts of Maggie and Eric past."
"You're so good for her right now, Carter."
"Right. I feel like Dr. Phil minus the hysterical female fan base."
She giggled.
"Why? She talk to you?" I asked.
"A little. Her feelings are still pretty raw. She's just trying to get through it all the best she can. And the holidays certainly aren't helping."
"You'll keep an eye on her while I'm gone? From the evil predators who lurk among the Girls' Club?"
"Actually, you would have been very proud of our last Girls' Club outing. We all had a very nice grown-up lunch at the Ritz Carlton. I even got out my headband and pearls. Couldn't tell the difference between us and the mavens of Lake Forest."
I pointed at the shopping bag. "Think she'll like it?"
"What's not to like? It'll keep her warm all winter in this frozen hellhole I can't believe I'm calling home again."
"So what did she get me?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. Seriously though, I think it's nice how you both agreed not to go overboard in the gift-giving department."
I thought about the second gift I had stored in the bottom of my locker.
"Uh, yeah." I tried not to sound too distracted as the sun disappeared behind the clouds.
* * * * * * * * * *
I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In field where the yellow grass grows
Knee-high
So won't you try to come
I walked into the living room carrying my packed suitcase, amazed that everything I needed for my trip to Boston could be found in her apartment.
She was sitting on the couch clad only in her bathrobe, drinking a cup of coffee, her hair still damp from her recent shower.
"So much for not going anywhere," she said sardonically, her lips curling into a tight half smile.
"Still not too late to change your mind." I dropped my suitcase near the door and sat down next to her, inhaling a gentle whiff of apricot-laced shampoo.
"What, and leave all of this holiday cheer?" She gestured toward a tiny boxwood tree that she had brought home a couple of days ago in a moment of apparent weakness, her one concession to the notion that Christmas was happening at all this year.
"No, it'll give you some one-on-one time with your dad and me a chance to catch up on my sleep." She punched my arm playfully.
Despite the fact that I would be back in Chicago in time for Christmas, she had insisted on exchanging presents tonight before we attended Susan's holiday party, I worked the graveyard shift and then caught an early morning flight out to Logan. Something about needing something to hold onto in my absence. And so I indulged her. Surprise, surprise.
I glanced under my wrist to where my watch had slid into its familiar resting place. We were due at Susan's in less than an hour. I walked into her bedroom, reached under the bed and planted the oversized festively wrapped Burberry box at her feet.
"You know, you really should do something about the dust bunnies under your bed."
She looked at the box, then at me, and smiled.
"So how long has this been sleeping under me?"
"Since yesterday."
She had laid a small, neatly wrapped package on the coffee table in my absence.
"You go first."
She carefully unwrapped the box, taking great pains to undo the tape at either side of the package. She stopped for a moment, a faraway look crossing her face.
"On the few major gift-giving occasions - Christmas, birthdays - when Maggie had her act together, she'd always insist that we save the wrapping paper. She loved to line our drawers with it."
I covered her hand with mine for a moment, then withdrew it so she could fold the plaid paper into a neat rectangle.
She stared at the unwrapped box and shook it gently. "Bigger than a bread box."
Finally, she lifted the lid.
I had gotten her a cashmere blanket from Burberry. The sales clerk had described the shade as "eggplant plaid."
"Something to wraps its arms around you while I'm away."
She stroked its soft fringes, then reached over and brushed my lips with her own. "It's lovely. Thank you. I'll use it tonight. I may even share it with you when you get back." Her kiss was warm and sincere.
"Your turn." She handed me my box.
I quickly tore open the paper. "This is how we did it at my house."
Inside a white box, I pulled out a round pewter case, about six inches wide. It opened up to reveal a small travel alarm clock on one side and a picture frame on the other. She had inserted a photo that Eric had taken of the two of us on the steps of the art museum during his visit with Jody. I had one arm around her, her head resting lovingly on my shoulder.
"Get it? The timing thing," she said twirling her forefingers around in the air.
"Timing has always been a problem for us," I postulated, feigning seriousness.
"Not any more. Turn it over."
I closed the case and flipped it over. On the back, she had inscribed,
To JTC, From AWL
"Timing is everything."
Merry Christmas 2002
"Thank you. I'll try it out in Boston."
She got up, thrusting her hands deep into the pockets of her robe. "Well, this was fun. I guess I better go get dressed."
"Not so fast," I said pulling another box out of my jacket pocket. "I have one more."
"Carter, we agreed on only one present."
"Yeah, but rules were made to be broken." I thrust the box into her hands. "Go ahead, open it."
This time, she tore the package open, crumpling the shiny gold paper into a neat ball. She paused for a moment before lifting the lid of the blue velvet box.
She stared at the contents wordlessly.
"Guess it was too hard to find a tornado."
"Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful. Thank you."
She lifted the silver chain up into the light. Dangling from the end was a butterfly with a strand of tiny pearls running down the middle. She fumbled with the clasp, then handed it to me. I placed the chain around her, my fingers lingering for a moment at the nape of her neck.
"I've been rethinking my theory."
"So now, you're rewriting history."
"Something like that. You're not the chaos I originally thought you were. You're much more like the butterfly. Seems like once you flapped your wings, nothing has ever been the same."
"And when exactly did these wings take flight?"
"Hard to say." I stuck my tongue in my cheek, trying hard to find the right words without revealing too much.
"Give me a hint."
"Not now. We should go. But sometime soon we'll finish this conversation."
She fingered the butterfly that perfectly filled the hollow of her throat, then disappeared into her bedroom to get dressed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us
With their lies
We gathered in a circle in Susan's living room opening our Secret Santa gifts. Abby was seated in a club chair to my left, her legs crossed, nursing a cup of coffee, her face bathed in soft light. She looked beautiful tonight behind shining eyes and a kittenish smile, her hair delicately pulled back from her face.
For the first time, I felt like we were a couple. And judging from the looks Pratt was giving Deb and Gallant was giving Harkins, it seemed like we might soon have some company.
Though we had mingled among our co-workers, exchanging holiday pleasantries and playful banter in a comfortable milieu far removed from the hubbub of the ER, we were never very far out of each other's flight patterns. It was a moment I wanted to savor.
All at once, I was jerked back to reality as Chuny crossed the room to hand me my present.
"Well, this one is for Dr. Carter."
I shook the small square box before opening it.
"Toy handcuffs." I twirled them in the air. The group erupted into a chorus of whistles and catcalls.
"The gift that keeps on giving," Deb opined.
Abby leaned over toward me, suddenly anxious to leave. "Are we done?"
"No, you have to open your present," Susan chirped.
"Oh, I've still got the rubber sheets from last year."
Pratt handed Abby a clumsily wrapped package topped with a green bow.
"Let's see who it came from," I said.
"Earrings. I can tell it's earrings," she smirked as she stared at it.
"C'mon, c'mon, open it up." Chuny was growing impatient.
"Is it edible?" Susan wanted to know.
Abby removed the paper revealing a winter scene inside a snow globe.
From the crowd, a quiet round of ohs, ooos and hmms.
"A snow globe." She turned it upside down, seemingly nonplussed.
"Who gave it?" Deb asked.
Susan shrugged.
"Well, I guess your Santa will have to stay a secret," I said as we both stood up. Abby asked Susan where she'd put her coat.
"You're not leaving, are you?" Susan replied looking disappointed.
"I've got to work tonight," I said to a litany of groans. Abby chimed in that she had to work in the morning before disappearing into the bedroom.
I politely inquired about Pratt and Gallant's respective holiday plans. When Abby still hadn't reappeared after several minutes, I knocked twice on the bedroom door before entering.
In the middle of the room, I found her chatting with an obviously drunken Luka.
There was a time in the not too distant past when the sight of her so close to him would have evoked a palpable twinge deep inside of me. But no more. The tide had shifted. We were together now.
"Ready to go?"
"Yup," she replied heading toward me.
"Luka. Missing all the fun."
"Yeah. You should stay."
"Gotta go."
She turned back toward him in the entryway. "Are you working tomorrow?"
"No."
"Lucky for you," I commented.
"Lucky for the patients," he said wistfully.
We drove away in an uneasy silence. At the first stop sign, I placed a hand on her knee, squeezing it.
"Looks like you found your Secret Santa."
She rolled her eyes, then looked at me thoughtfully, apparently surprised by the lack of jealousy in my voice.
"Luka's choice in the gift department spoke volumes about how he views me and our relationship." The words dripped out matter-of-factly, matching the evenness of my tone.
"How so?"
"Trying to always capture me in some darkened freeze frame moment. Like he wished he could keep me in some sort of weird protective bubble. Maybe that's how he felt about his family too. You know, how does that song go -- 'Preserve your memories, they're all that's left for you.' Anyway, he just never "got" me. I'm not sure he ever even tried to."
"It's not the easiest thing in the world, you know."
"What?"
"Getting you. Look how long it's taken me to figure you out." My voice was earnest, in search of validation.
She smiled thoughtfully. "Ah, but you're a more persistent sort. That's the whole point. It's a way you have with people. Most of all with me. And one I've never really thanked you enough for. My life is such a mess sometimes. And there you are in my little push me-pull me world. I know it can't be easy. Or much fun, especially lately. Yet you give me space one minute and hold me all night long the next. You're pushing all the right buttons, these days, Carter. You're giving me exactly what I need."
I pulled up in front of her building. I went around to the passenger side to open the door for her, pulling her out onto the sidewalk. She held onto my hand as she moved ahead of me, pulling me up to the top step.
I touched her cheek with my thumb. "And when you need more than that, you'll let me know?"
"Yeah. And I'll go one better than that. Someday I'll return the favor."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The moment, as in the case of the one surrounding her perfect cigarette, seemed as right as it ever would be.
"I love you, Abby."
Her eyes, warm puddles that could melt butter, whispered she loved me back.
Her lips, salty and sweet, gently reminded me that she "got" me too.
Butterfly kisses.
* * * * * * * * * *
Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you
As we made our descent into Logan Airport, the captain's voice boomed loud overhead requesting the flight attendants to prepare for landing.
I turned off the portable CD player and pulled off the headphones.
"I want to know where it's taking me." I could hear my voice mouthing the words from that seemingly long ago morning along the shores of Lake Michigan.
What did I hope to find there?
A picture perfect moment, frozen in time, like the one in Abby's snow globe?
Or a chance to see what the road passed by in all its uncertain glory?
After the ebb and flow of the past few months, was I any closer to knowing?
If you love something, set it free.
Where had I heard that before?
Maybe, Susan was right. I should write for Hallmark.
I gingerly fingered the clock resting in my lap, its silver case shining brightly in the noontime sun.
Time would tell.
* * * * * * * * * *
And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me
* * * * * * * * * *
