For the next two chapters I'm taking a more serious tone I think. Beauty
and Trust were great fun to write, but I think for the next two I need to
go a little bit deeper.
Anyway. . . I don't like this one. I don't mean to turn into one of those writers who does nothing but criticize their own work (I actually liked Beauty and Trust), but. . . yeah, I just don't like it.
As always - thanks for all the reviews. Most greatly appreciated.
*****
Wonder Number Five - Honesty
*****
There she is.
Sat on the same bench as always, hugging herself in an attempt to keep out the bitter cold.
You gotta love Chicago weather.
I gingerly move from the doorway, closer to the lights of the city down below.
"Hey."
Her head snaps up suddenly, but still she remains mute.
"Surprised to see me?"
She smirks, inhaling deeply before responding.
"I shouldn't be. No matter where I go you always seem to find me."
My reply is immediate.
"I think that can only be a good thing."
"Maybe."
Biting my tongue, I decide to ignore that comment. The negative half never ceases to rear its ugly head every once in a while, and it's just about all I can do to pay no attention to it.
I carry on my quest to become closer, perching myself on the ledge opposite her. Putting my head in my hands, I can't keep a sigh from escaping my cold body.
God, I hate this day.
When I was young I was told not to use that word - a word in which only the strongest feelings of detest can fulfil.
I guess I'm justified in using it now.
Candy hearts, pink ribbons, cards. . . all ciphers of a time I've tried so hard to forget. And yet every year, here it is, in all it's red promotional glory.
I lift my head to look at her once more. Her position hasn't changed.
She's almost ice like. Cold. . . still.
By the looks of things, I'm not the only one having a day worth forgetting. I can't help wondering once again if I'm going to be let in, or will I have to guess, or. . .
"I haven't seen you around much today. You OK?"
Her question surprises me somewhat.
"I'm fine."
By the way she's looking at me, she's obviously not convinced.
"You sure?"
I don't think I'm even convinced myself.
I find myself sitting beside her on the bench, and ever so slowly laying my head down on her shoulder. Before I get there, she wraps her arms around my neck.
Tight.
Tighter than she's ever done before.
I take a while to savour the moment. She's melted from frozen in a matter of seconds.
Amazing.
I feel her shuffle against my shoulder, moving her head to the side near my ear.
"I'm here."
After taking just a little while longer, I pull myself apart, eager to gain her gaze. Only as I do, will I answer.
"That's all I need."
My eyes never leave hers.
Sometimes, no matter what else is going on in my surroundings, I can't tear myself away from her chocolate circles. They seem to speak a language of their own - a language I've grown to understand.
It hasn't been easy - but I'm getting there.
I hear her sigh, and only as she looks away and wraps her arms tighter around her torso do I notice the tiny white flakes of snow gradually making their way from the heavens.
I smile slightly, casting my gaze upwards. For a few seconds, Abby's not the only female occupying my thoughts.
I know you're there, Lucy.
You don't have to send down flurries of ice flecks to remind me.
I revert my attention back to Abby, meeting once again with her line of sight. I'm not surprised to see her smile a little at me.
She knows exactly what I'm doing.
"She's Ok."
I lift my head up once more, closing my eyes to feel the snow brush my face before answering.
"I know."
I decide to reverse play, turning the focus on her.
"Are you?"
Again, she looks away.
Again, I plead wordlessly with her to stop running away.
Don't make me guess.
How far are we going to go if we keep hiding from each other?
We sit in thick silence once more, neither of us brave enough to break it just yet. I decide to change the subject slightly, reverting back to earlier that day.
It's a feeble attempt to ease the tension somewhat.
"What did she decide to do in the end?"
It hadn't failed to escape my notice that Abby had spent the majority of the day looking after a pregnant teenager.
Still avoiding my eyes, she waits a while before responding to my query.
"She's having a termination."
I'm not shocked. It had been the girl's wish ever since the pregnancy test results came back.
"Maybe that's the best decision. She seemed pretty certain it was what she wanted."
I don't expect her immediate response.
"There is no certainty when it comes to decisions like that, Carter."
Her voice is abrupt, and it leaves me startled. Once again, she looks away, but it's not long before she carries on talking - her voice now of a calmer manner.
"She didn't have a boyfriend - said it was a one night stand. Her parents sounded pretty high class, and she was adamant that they weren't to know."
Another pause.
"I can't help wondering if she'd just given it a little more time. . . maybe thought about it some more. She seemed pretty confused and scared. . . not that anyone can blame her for that."
Yet again, another breather.
Something, somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach is telling me that something isn't right. Abby's never been the best person for not becoming too attached to patients. . . but then again few people are.
But this is different. And as hard as I try, I can't quite put my finger on it.
Let me in, Abby.
Let me in.
"I offered to go with her to the. . . but she said no. It's just. . ."
She bows her head before lifting it once more to look straight at me. Her voice cracks in the middle of her dialogue, and it's a while before she carries on.
". . . no one should have to go through that alone."
And at that moment, something snaps. Somewhere in my mind, a penny drops.
I follow my first instinct of reaching out my hand to her. She takes it tentatively, linking her fingers through mine. For a while she just sits, staring at our hands.
"When?"
I can barely hear my own voice, only just above a faltering whisper.
Lifting her eye line, I catch a glimpse of the chocolate circles once more.
"Valentine's, 1998."
God.
I had no idea.
A million questions begin to form in my mind.
Why?
Where?
Why wasn't Richard with her?
I don't ask any of them. I know that when the time is right, she'll tell me, and it's obviously not right tonight otherwise she would have carried on.
I move from my position, walking slowly over to her seat. She's bowed her head again, and is now staring at her own hands, wringing them in a way that I've come to recognize as a sign of upset.
Lifting her head, I place my hands just below her ears. Bringing my head down slowly, I plant a long kiss on her forehead, closing my eyes a second after she closes hers.
When I pull away, I notice a stray tear that is slowly making its way down her cheek. I gingerly reach out my hand to brush it away, and as I do so she takes hold of it with her own. Pulling herself up, she immediately leans against my body, and I barely hesitate before wrapping my arms around her tiny frame.
My turn.
I lean down to place my head on her neck, letting out another whisper.
"I'm here for you."
I hear her exhale intensely before replying.
"I know."
She lifts her head, and when I look at her face I'm almost positive I can see a hint of a smile.
"That's all I need."
We stay like this for a few minutes. . . wrapped up in each other.
Once again, it's me who breaks the peace.
"Thanks, Abby."
She looks puzzled.
"Thanks for being honest with me. . . for being straight with me. Thanks for not hiding."
Her look of bewilderment fades, and I can almost sense an air of relief.
"It's getting harder by the day to hide from you, John Carter."
Repeating my words earlier, I speak with a grin.
"I think that can only be a good thing."
This elicits a laugh from her, gradually moving from her mouth up to her eyes.
"Definitely."
Leaning down, I stroke my lips along hers before capturing them in a soft, gentle kiss.
A kiss that regardless of the temperature, doesn't fail to make me feel warm inside.
"Come on."
The puzzlement's back.
"Where?"
"You and me are going to go home. . . run a hot bath complete with that foam you like. . . stick on some jazz. . . order in a takeaway and see if we can't put a good spin on the end of this day."
Without hesitation, she cups my face in her hands, and repeats the kiss of before.
"That sounds good to me."
I mock hurt.
"What. . . just good?"
"Well actually. . .
Her voice dissolves into a faint murmur as she leans in closer.
". . . not far off perfection."
Rubbing my nose against hers, I close my eyes for a moment before taking her hand in mine and leading her off the snowy rooftop.
We've grown here tonight. . . we've developed.
We've moved that little bit closer to each other and our future.
And I think that can only be a good thing.
Definitely.
Anyway. . . I don't like this one. I don't mean to turn into one of those writers who does nothing but criticize their own work (I actually liked Beauty and Trust), but. . . yeah, I just don't like it.
As always - thanks for all the reviews. Most greatly appreciated.
*****
Wonder Number Five - Honesty
*****
There she is.
Sat on the same bench as always, hugging herself in an attempt to keep out the bitter cold.
You gotta love Chicago weather.
I gingerly move from the doorway, closer to the lights of the city down below.
"Hey."
Her head snaps up suddenly, but still she remains mute.
"Surprised to see me?"
She smirks, inhaling deeply before responding.
"I shouldn't be. No matter where I go you always seem to find me."
My reply is immediate.
"I think that can only be a good thing."
"Maybe."
Biting my tongue, I decide to ignore that comment. The negative half never ceases to rear its ugly head every once in a while, and it's just about all I can do to pay no attention to it.
I carry on my quest to become closer, perching myself on the ledge opposite her. Putting my head in my hands, I can't keep a sigh from escaping my cold body.
God, I hate this day.
When I was young I was told not to use that word - a word in which only the strongest feelings of detest can fulfil.
I guess I'm justified in using it now.
Candy hearts, pink ribbons, cards. . . all ciphers of a time I've tried so hard to forget. And yet every year, here it is, in all it's red promotional glory.
I lift my head to look at her once more. Her position hasn't changed.
She's almost ice like. Cold. . . still.
By the looks of things, I'm not the only one having a day worth forgetting. I can't help wondering once again if I'm going to be let in, or will I have to guess, or. . .
"I haven't seen you around much today. You OK?"
Her question surprises me somewhat.
"I'm fine."
By the way she's looking at me, she's obviously not convinced.
"You sure?"
I don't think I'm even convinced myself.
I find myself sitting beside her on the bench, and ever so slowly laying my head down on her shoulder. Before I get there, she wraps her arms around my neck.
Tight.
Tighter than she's ever done before.
I take a while to savour the moment. She's melted from frozen in a matter of seconds.
Amazing.
I feel her shuffle against my shoulder, moving her head to the side near my ear.
"I'm here."
After taking just a little while longer, I pull myself apart, eager to gain her gaze. Only as I do, will I answer.
"That's all I need."
My eyes never leave hers.
Sometimes, no matter what else is going on in my surroundings, I can't tear myself away from her chocolate circles. They seem to speak a language of their own - a language I've grown to understand.
It hasn't been easy - but I'm getting there.
I hear her sigh, and only as she looks away and wraps her arms tighter around her torso do I notice the tiny white flakes of snow gradually making their way from the heavens.
I smile slightly, casting my gaze upwards. For a few seconds, Abby's not the only female occupying my thoughts.
I know you're there, Lucy.
You don't have to send down flurries of ice flecks to remind me.
I revert my attention back to Abby, meeting once again with her line of sight. I'm not surprised to see her smile a little at me.
She knows exactly what I'm doing.
"She's Ok."
I lift my head up once more, closing my eyes to feel the snow brush my face before answering.
"I know."
I decide to reverse play, turning the focus on her.
"Are you?"
Again, she looks away.
Again, I plead wordlessly with her to stop running away.
Don't make me guess.
How far are we going to go if we keep hiding from each other?
We sit in thick silence once more, neither of us brave enough to break it just yet. I decide to change the subject slightly, reverting back to earlier that day.
It's a feeble attempt to ease the tension somewhat.
"What did she decide to do in the end?"
It hadn't failed to escape my notice that Abby had spent the majority of the day looking after a pregnant teenager.
Still avoiding my eyes, she waits a while before responding to my query.
"She's having a termination."
I'm not shocked. It had been the girl's wish ever since the pregnancy test results came back.
"Maybe that's the best decision. She seemed pretty certain it was what she wanted."
I don't expect her immediate response.
"There is no certainty when it comes to decisions like that, Carter."
Her voice is abrupt, and it leaves me startled. Once again, she looks away, but it's not long before she carries on talking - her voice now of a calmer manner.
"She didn't have a boyfriend - said it was a one night stand. Her parents sounded pretty high class, and she was adamant that they weren't to know."
Another pause.
"I can't help wondering if she'd just given it a little more time. . . maybe thought about it some more. She seemed pretty confused and scared. . . not that anyone can blame her for that."
Yet again, another breather.
Something, somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach is telling me that something isn't right. Abby's never been the best person for not becoming too attached to patients. . . but then again few people are.
But this is different. And as hard as I try, I can't quite put my finger on it.
Let me in, Abby.
Let me in.
"I offered to go with her to the. . . but she said no. It's just. . ."
She bows her head before lifting it once more to look straight at me. Her voice cracks in the middle of her dialogue, and it's a while before she carries on.
". . . no one should have to go through that alone."
And at that moment, something snaps. Somewhere in my mind, a penny drops.
I follow my first instinct of reaching out my hand to her. She takes it tentatively, linking her fingers through mine. For a while she just sits, staring at our hands.
"When?"
I can barely hear my own voice, only just above a faltering whisper.
Lifting her eye line, I catch a glimpse of the chocolate circles once more.
"Valentine's, 1998."
God.
I had no idea.
A million questions begin to form in my mind.
Why?
Where?
Why wasn't Richard with her?
I don't ask any of them. I know that when the time is right, she'll tell me, and it's obviously not right tonight otherwise she would have carried on.
I move from my position, walking slowly over to her seat. She's bowed her head again, and is now staring at her own hands, wringing them in a way that I've come to recognize as a sign of upset.
Lifting her head, I place my hands just below her ears. Bringing my head down slowly, I plant a long kiss on her forehead, closing my eyes a second after she closes hers.
When I pull away, I notice a stray tear that is slowly making its way down her cheek. I gingerly reach out my hand to brush it away, and as I do so she takes hold of it with her own. Pulling herself up, she immediately leans against my body, and I barely hesitate before wrapping my arms around her tiny frame.
My turn.
I lean down to place my head on her neck, letting out another whisper.
"I'm here for you."
I hear her exhale intensely before replying.
"I know."
She lifts her head, and when I look at her face I'm almost positive I can see a hint of a smile.
"That's all I need."
We stay like this for a few minutes. . . wrapped up in each other.
Once again, it's me who breaks the peace.
"Thanks, Abby."
She looks puzzled.
"Thanks for being honest with me. . . for being straight with me. Thanks for not hiding."
Her look of bewilderment fades, and I can almost sense an air of relief.
"It's getting harder by the day to hide from you, John Carter."
Repeating my words earlier, I speak with a grin.
"I think that can only be a good thing."
This elicits a laugh from her, gradually moving from her mouth up to her eyes.
"Definitely."
Leaning down, I stroke my lips along hers before capturing them in a soft, gentle kiss.
A kiss that regardless of the temperature, doesn't fail to make me feel warm inside.
"Come on."
The puzzlement's back.
"Where?"
"You and me are going to go home. . . run a hot bath complete with that foam you like. . . stick on some jazz. . . order in a takeaway and see if we can't put a good spin on the end of this day."
Without hesitation, she cups my face in her hands, and repeats the kiss of before.
"That sounds good to me."
I mock hurt.
"What. . . just good?"
"Well actually. . .
Her voice dissolves into a faint murmur as she leans in closer.
". . . not far off perfection."
Rubbing my nose against hers, I close my eyes for a moment before taking her hand in mine and leading her off the snowy rooftop.
We've grown here tonight. . . we've developed.
We've moved that little bit closer to each other and our future.
And I think that can only be a good thing.
Definitely.