Chapter 15
"You're looking better," Carter commented as Abby walked into the kitchen.
"Looks can be deceiving," Abby said groggily. She sat at the table and laid her head down.
"Want some pancakes?" Carter asked cheerily, flipping over a perfectly round golden circle. Abby groaned in response.
"How bout coffee?" Carter asked, depositing a pancake onto a plate.
"Sure. Make mine with scotch."
"I'll just ignore that last statement," Carter said, pouring Abby a cup of coffee and setting it in front of her. "You take your temp when you got up?"
"Yeah, 99.1. Fever's finally going down," Abby said, taking a small sip of the coffee. Then, "Ugh, what is this?"
"It's a magical blend we like to call decaf."
"You drink decaf?" Abby asked incredulously.
"Only at gunpoint. But you're not supposed to have caffeine, remember? Doctor's orders."
"Oh, screw the doctor," Abby said, slamming down the cup. "I want some real coffee. I know you've got some."
Carter held up his hands innocently. "Nope, sorry. Drink up, and when you're done, you get some of Carter's homemade pancakes!"
"Ooh, lucky me," Abby mumbled. She discovered that the decaf didn't taste quite as bad if she held her breath. Still, it couldn't compare to regular coffee.
Abby glared into the cup. This is no substitute for the real stuff, she thought.
Carter came to stand behind her. "Trying to boil it with your heat vision?" he asked merrily.
"Oh, put a lid on it. I don't know what you're so happy about," Abby grumbled, stomping over to the sink and dumping out her coffee. "This stuff is really awful."
"I think somebody's in a bad mood," Carter observed. "You want some pancakes?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Is the pancakes ready?" Jill asked, bursting into the room with Riley right behind her.
"Most of them are. You hungry?"
Jill nodded her head. "Can we take it them in the TV room? We were watching Bugs Bunny."
Carter nodded. "That's fine," he said.
"Do you feel better now, Mommy?" Riley asked, coming to stand by his mother.
"Yes, I feel a lot better," Abby said.
"Does that mean we have to leave now?" Jill asked sadly. Carter and Abby exchanged a glance.
"We'll probably be leaving soon, honey," Abby told her.
"But I don't want to leave! I want us to stay here with Daddy! I like living here!"
"Yeah, can't we stay, Mommy? Please?"
Abby looked down. "Let's talk about it later, okay?" she said. She really didn't want to deal with this right now.
Jill and Riley both looked disappointed. Carter served them their plates, and he and Abby were alone again.
"What?" Abby snapped after a moment of silence.
Carter looked at her and shrugged. "I didn't say anything."
"Yeah, but I can tell you want to."
Carter sighed and laid down the spatula. "As a matter of fact, I do. I think it would be really good for the kids if you stayed here. They could see both of us, and you wouldn't have to rush out to find some overpriced apartment. It doesn't have to be permanent, but they could use some stability right now. Why don't you just stay here for a few months, let them get used to me and everything?"
Abby shook her head wearily. "That's not gonna work, Carter. Do you think it'll be any easier for them to leave after they've been here for a while? That will just make it harder. If I stay here too long, they'll get used to it and their whole lives will be turned upside down again."
Carter sat down in front of her. "Then you've already been here too long, because they're used to it here. They like it here, and it's a nice place for kids. There's plenty of space, a big yard. This is a family house, and you have a family. Why don't you stay?" he asked, looking pleadingly into her eyes.
Abby sighed. Was she going to have to spell it out for him? "Because we're not a family, Carter. Not the four of us. And that's what Jill and Riley are going to think if we stay here. Every kid wants their parents to be together, and us all living in the same house will just make them hope for something that's not going to happen."
Carter looked down. He didn't want things to be this way, but obviously Abby already had her mind made up. "So what do you propose? That you move into some little apartment, with no yard and neighbors downstairs who call the landlord if the kids run around? That they live at your house for a week and then a week at mine? Because I'm not giving them up, Abby. I don't know if you thought I would, but they're my kids and I love them, and I'm not giving them up without a fight. I'm offering a sensible solution that will work for all of us. Can you think of anything better?"
Abby didn't respond.
"Just think about it, Abby. I know this isn't an ideal living situation, but what are our options? I think Jill and Riley hoping that we'll get together is better that having them torn between the two of us, shuffling from house to house. You've kept them away from me for four years. Is it too much for me to ask just to spend a little TIME with them?! They're my kids too. We have to think about what's good for them, and moving from my place to yours every week isn't."
"You think I don't think about what's good for them? I have spent the past four years thinking about what was good for them every single day. I've worked my butt of so they could have a decent place to live, and some clothes on their backs. You just met them a couple weeks ago. How does that suddenly make you an expert on what they need? You may be their biological father, but they are MY kids, and if I want to move them to the South Pole I will! You don't know them, you don't know anything about them, so don't fool yourself into thinking you do!" With that, Abby stormed out of the room.
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When Carter woke up, he knew something wasn't right. "Something's not right," he mumbled, staggering out of the bed. The house was too quiet. What was going on?
He walked to the twins' room. It was dark, quiet, the way it should be at three in the morning. He saw their little chests rising and falling in a slow rhythm. They're okay, he realized, breathing a sigh of relief.
He walked across the hall into Abby's room. Her little chest was not rising and falling. "Abby?" he whispered, a sinking feeling in his heart. Something was wrong here. "Abby?" he whispered again, approaching the bed. Abby was going to be really mad when he woke her up. But he had to; he had to make sure that everything was alright.
"Abby?" He knelt down by her bed. She was quiet, too quiet. He pressed a hand to her face. It was cold, like touching the face of a corpse. "Are you okay?" He shook her by the shoulders, gently at first, then roughly, frantically. Why wasn't she waking up?
With shaking fingers, he grasped her wrist. "I can't find the p-pulse," he stammered, gripping her wrist at a different angle. That was not necessary. There was no pulse. It took Carter several seconds to realize this.
"Oh, no," he moaned, staring down at her. How had this happened? What should he do?
CPR, of course! Cursing himself for his momentary stupidity, he leaned over her and began performing CPR. A breath into her lungs, then furiously pumping her chest. Why wasn't it working?
It was taking too long; way too long. He pushed again her still heart more furiously, and heard a cracking sound. He had broken one of her ribs. He though he was going to be sick.
"Don't do this to me, Abby," he whispered, pausing him compressions once more to breathe into her lungs. How long had it been? Ten minutes. Too long.
"What's the matter?" he heard behind him. He turned to face Jill and Riley, who were standing in the doorway. What should he do? What could he tell them?