Author's notes: Okay so I promsied a double update. And ta-da here is it... I'm complicating things more and more, and this chapter explains some things that weren't clarified in the earlier ones. And right now you people have no clue how hard it is to stay in the 3rd person omniscent (Abby).. I really want to get some other point of views.. but that's not what I originally intended, so it's going to be a struggle... I'm gonna stick with Abby's... God.. LOL I'm shutting up.. I talk too much... These author's notes are always like a paragraph long. Oh yeah, thanks for the updates!! Love ya all!!! :-) Tell me what you think so far... If I'm going in a good direction... I'm so commited to this story!!
~*~
She opened her door, happy to be home. She just couldn't pull off the rest of her shift. It was impossible. So she said she was feeling sick and left. It would be okay since Michele was clueless about what was going on, and she was naive as a little child. That was the one positive thing that happened to her all day. Annette seemed very quiet and distanced the whole way home, and John knew something must be wrong, first with his mother, and second with his sister. She put her purse down on the counter, and heard Annette's door shut, somewhat loudly. She had never known her daughter to act that way. But she was too tired to do anything right now. She looked at her son who was also looking at her questioningly.
"Mom? Is everything okay?"
No. Everything was not okay. But it's definetly not something you tell a 9 and half year old.
"It's just a bit complicated, but it'll be okay."
Maybe she should start looking for a new chief residency, or a residency, or anything somewhere else, like in China. Or at least in Washington or California. Far from here.
"Why don't you go lie down, you look tired out."
That is a good idea. Her head was pounding and she was feeling lightheaded.
"Yeah. I'm going to go do that now. Why don't you watch TV or play a videogame?"
She saw her son nodd his head okay. She headed to her room, passing Annette's closed door. She was tempted to go in and ask what that was all about, but she didn't want John to get involved, which she knew he would. She got to her room, and walked in, closing her door behind her. She drew the blinds, giving the room a shot of darkness. She laid down on her bed, not bothering to change out of her scrubs, and she was asleep in a matter of seconds.
She woke up a few hours later, feeling a bit better after the much needed sleep. She looked at her watch, 10:38. Over 6 hours of sleep. God. What had Annette and John been up to in that much time. But at least they had kept quiet. She creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet, hoping they were alseep. She walked past Annette's door, and didn't see any light on. She was probably feeling a bit under the weather, which would account for her attitude. She got to John's door, and walked in, since it was left ajar. She covered him with another blanket, and kissed him on the forehead. She walked back to her living room, and collapsed on the sofa. She wasn't physically exhausted, just mentally dead. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't go back to him. She wouldn't. And now that he knew, things could only get more complicated.
She turned on the TV to the news, but closed her eyes and laid her head against the cushions of the sofa. She pulled her feet up and regained her favorite position. She laid there for what seemed like forever. She heard the squeak of the floorboards and opened her eyes.
"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?"
She motioned with her hand for her daugther to come sit down on the sofa. She came over hesitantly, but soon collapsed on the inviting recliner. She stroked her hair, playing with the tips. Nette's head laid on her lap. She never got an answer to her question, but it was okay. She was glad the tension that had been there before somewhat disappeared. But she still seemed a bit secluded, like she was holding something back.
"Nette, what's wrong?"
She saw her daughter shake her head slightly.
"Annette."
She was hoping if she couldn't get it out of her, maybe she would be able to force it out.
"Nothing."
Something was defintely up. And this was her chance to find out since John was asleep and both would try to keep him that way.
"Why do I get the feeling you're lying to me?"
Okay she's working with all the possible roads she has.
"I'm not lying to you."
This wasn't her daughter. She was usually very open and loud, cheerful and happy.
"Annette, I don't want to see you acting like this."
It killed her from inside for her daughter to act that way.
"I can't, but you can."
That was unexpected, Nette usually didn't give her attitude.
"What's wrong with you today?"
She could usually figure out what was going on, but today was just mentally draining her.
"Why did you lie to us?"
What was she talking about? She never lied to them. She tried to tell them the truth, but sometimes she wouldn't give them the whole story. But she was only trying to protect them.
"We have a right to know."
She noticed she had picked herself up and she was sitting, her eyes almost briming with tears, but her eyes were different, hateful.
"Nette, what are you talking about?"
She tried to reach over to her to wipe away the tears that had begun to fall, to try to comfort her. But she quickly moved away.
"That Dr. Carter... that he's our dad."
She heart stopped beating. How did Nette find out. Had Carter talked to her? She pulled her legs into a criss cross position, burying her head in her hands. She took a deep breathe. She wasn't able to play it off with Susan, but maybe her daugther would be easier.
"I never said that, you can't believe everything you hear."
She hoped she would be able to convince her.
"You're lying again!"
Her daughter's voice slowly rose, but it was just under a shout.
"You sat at that table and I heard you say that he was our father!"
She had heard. She had heard her conversation with Susan that night. It must have been impossible but she did.
"And you were evesdropping."
Lame as it might be, it was her only shot right now.
"You think I planned to, mom?"
No. But she would never say it.
"Does your brother know?"
She waited for a response from the frightened and angry little girl standing in front of her.
"No."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Only one of her two kids would hate her.
"But dad knows."
Why did she suddenly feel like an idiot? First thing on her list of things to do: apologize to Susan.
"He's not dad. I don't want to hear you say that."
She didn't want to let them grow attached to him. He would probably just go and break their hearts.
"He's our dad whether you like it or not."
A smart remark from a smart girl. She couldn't control what the situation was currently.
"He's not dad. He doesn't give a damn about you two!"
Okay so this conversation wasn't exactly going in the direction that she had wanted it to. Her daugther's tears came out heavier and greater. Nette was angry and hurt. And she wished she was able to do anything to take that pain away from her. But life was hard, and she would have to learn some things by herself.
"Nette, I'm sorry. But he doesn't love you. And I don't want you to get hurt..."
She saw her daughter begin to back away from her, disbelief clearly written across her face.
"No... You're the only one that's hurting us!"
Annette turned around and practically ran towards her room. She slammed the door and she could hear the sobs echo through the apartment. She couldn't in there to comfort her. She knew she would only make it worse. Plus, her door was probably locked anyway. She didn't know when she had resumed a standing position, but she collapsed back against the sofa. Everything had been so simple, so clear in Boston. Why had she come back. She asked herself every day why she decided to come back and put herself and the two people she loved most in the world through this unbelieveable hell.
~*~
She opened her door, happy to be home. She just couldn't pull off the rest of her shift. It was impossible. So she said she was feeling sick and left. It would be okay since Michele was clueless about what was going on, and she was naive as a little child. That was the one positive thing that happened to her all day. Annette seemed very quiet and distanced the whole way home, and John knew something must be wrong, first with his mother, and second with his sister. She put her purse down on the counter, and heard Annette's door shut, somewhat loudly. She had never known her daughter to act that way. But she was too tired to do anything right now. She looked at her son who was also looking at her questioningly.
"Mom? Is everything okay?"
No. Everything was not okay. But it's definetly not something you tell a 9 and half year old.
"It's just a bit complicated, but it'll be okay."
Maybe she should start looking for a new chief residency, or a residency, or anything somewhere else, like in China. Or at least in Washington or California. Far from here.
"Why don't you go lie down, you look tired out."
That is a good idea. Her head was pounding and she was feeling lightheaded.
"Yeah. I'm going to go do that now. Why don't you watch TV or play a videogame?"
She saw her son nodd his head okay. She headed to her room, passing Annette's closed door. She was tempted to go in and ask what that was all about, but she didn't want John to get involved, which she knew he would. She got to her room, and walked in, closing her door behind her. She drew the blinds, giving the room a shot of darkness. She laid down on her bed, not bothering to change out of her scrubs, and she was asleep in a matter of seconds.
She woke up a few hours later, feeling a bit better after the much needed sleep. She looked at her watch, 10:38. Over 6 hours of sleep. God. What had Annette and John been up to in that much time. But at least they had kept quiet. She creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet, hoping they were alseep. She walked past Annette's door, and didn't see any light on. She was probably feeling a bit under the weather, which would account for her attitude. She got to John's door, and walked in, since it was left ajar. She covered him with another blanket, and kissed him on the forehead. She walked back to her living room, and collapsed on the sofa. She wasn't physically exhausted, just mentally dead. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't go back to him. She wouldn't. And now that he knew, things could only get more complicated.
She turned on the TV to the news, but closed her eyes and laid her head against the cushions of the sofa. She pulled her feet up and regained her favorite position. She laid there for what seemed like forever. She heard the squeak of the floorboards and opened her eyes.
"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?"
She motioned with her hand for her daugther to come sit down on the sofa. She came over hesitantly, but soon collapsed on the inviting recliner. She stroked her hair, playing with the tips. Nette's head laid on her lap. She never got an answer to her question, but it was okay. She was glad the tension that had been there before somewhat disappeared. But she still seemed a bit secluded, like she was holding something back.
"Nette, what's wrong?"
She saw her daughter shake her head slightly.
"Annette."
She was hoping if she couldn't get it out of her, maybe she would be able to force it out.
"Nothing."
Something was defintely up. And this was her chance to find out since John was asleep and both would try to keep him that way.
"Why do I get the feeling you're lying to me?"
Okay she's working with all the possible roads she has.
"I'm not lying to you."
This wasn't her daughter. She was usually very open and loud, cheerful and happy.
"Annette, I don't want to see you acting like this."
It killed her from inside for her daughter to act that way.
"I can't, but you can."
That was unexpected, Nette usually didn't give her attitude.
"What's wrong with you today?"
She could usually figure out what was going on, but today was just mentally draining her.
"Why did you lie to us?"
What was she talking about? She never lied to them. She tried to tell them the truth, but sometimes she wouldn't give them the whole story. But she was only trying to protect them.
"We have a right to know."
She noticed she had picked herself up and she was sitting, her eyes almost briming with tears, but her eyes were different, hateful.
"Nette, what are you talking about?"
She tried to reach over to her to wipe away the tears that had begun to fall, to try to comfort her. But she quickly moved away.
"That Dr. Carter... that he's our dad."
She heart stopped beating. How did Nette find out. Had Carter talked to her? She pulled her legs into a criss cross position, burying her head in her hands. She took a deep breathe. She wasn't able to play it off with Susan, but maybe her daugther would be easier.
"I never said that, you can't believe everything you hear."
She hoped she would be able to convince her.
"You're lying again!"
Her daughter's voice slowly rose, but it was just under a shout.
"You sat at that table and I heard you say that he was our father!"
She had heard. She had heard her conversation with Susan that night. It must have been impossible but she did.
"And you were evesdropping."
Lame as it might be, it was her only shot right now.
"You think I planned to, mom?"
No. But she would never say it.
"Does your brother know?"
She waited for a response from the frightened and angry little girl standing in front of her.
"No."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Only one of her two kids would hate her.
"But dad knows."
Why did she suddenly feel like an idiot? First thing on her list of things to do: apologize to Susan.
"He's not dad. I don't want to hear you say that."
She didn't want to let them grow attached to him. He would probably just go and break their hearts.
"He's our dad whether you like it or not."
A smart remark from a smart girl. She couldn't control what the situation was currently.
"He's not dad. He doesn't give a damn about you two!"
Okay so this conversation wasn't exactly going in the direction that she had wanted it to. Her daugther's tears came out heavier and greater. Nette was angry and hurt. And she wished she was able to do anything to take that pain away from her. But life was hard, and she would have to learn some things by herself.
"Nette, I'm sorry. But he doesn't love you. And I don't want you to get hurt..."
She saw her daughter begin to back away from her, disbelief clearly written across her face.
"No... You're the only one that's hurting us!"
Annette turned around and practically ran towards her room. She slammed the door and she could hear the sobs echo through the apartment. She couldn't in there to comfort her. She knew she would only make it worse. Plus, her door was probably locked anyway. She didn't know when she had resumed a standing position, but she collapsed back against the sofa. Everything had been so simple, so clear in Boston. Why had she come back. She asked herself every day why she decided to come back and put herself and the two people she loved most in the world through this unbelieveable hell.