CARTER'S POV ***********************
I stood, nailed to the floor, as I watched Abby bolt out the front door. When my brain finally connected to my feet, I ran after her.
She was sitting on the steps, her head in her hands. I put my arm around her but she moved away. "Abby. . ."
"Don't say anything, John," she said. There's nothing to be said."
"Yes there is. My mother's a bitch. I've told you that a hundred times. She's horrible."
"It's not what she said." Abby looked up at me. "It's what you said."
"I defended you," I said. "I didn't say anything."
She looked out across the yard. "You said she'd have to come up with a better argument if you were gonna take her seriously."
I just looked at her. What the hell was she on about?
"You actually considered taking her seriously." Abby glared at me. "If you really loved me, it wouldn't even cross your mind that she could make a valid point against me."
"No. . .I didn't mean. . . I just phrased it wrong, Abby. You know what I meant."
She shook her head. "No I don't. You'll have to explain it to me." She looked at me expectantly but I knew that whatever explanation I gave would not be accepted.
"I was just trying to shut her up. I love you. I don't care if she said anything valid, which she didn't. I wouldn't care if you were just after my money or if you had slept with every guy at the hospital. I love you."
She looked at me skeptically. "You would so care if I were only after your money," she said, wiping away her tears.
"Yeah, I know," I grumbled. She laughed bitterly. "But I'd still love you," I insisted. "Nothing could ever change that."
She still didn't look at me. "Maybe your just using me for sex."
"Are you insane?" I asked her. "We've had sex once since I came back to Chicago. If I were going to use someone for sex, I'd make sure that we actually, you know. . .had sex."
She laughed. "I'm sorry for over reacting," she said, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm not really mad at you. I'm mad at your mother."
"Join the club," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. "I've been mad at her for about thirty years now."
Someone cleared their throat behind us. We turned around to see my mother standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
"Your daughter is awake and calling for her mother," she said to me. She put a sarcastic emphasis on the word 'daughter.' She didn't seem to have heard a word Abby and I had said. She also seemed completely unaware that Abby had overheard her.
Abby smiled sweetly. "Why don't you comfort her, Eleanor? I'm sure you don't want a whore like me anywhere near your granddaughter."
This caught Mom off guard. Her mouth fell open for a moment and then she turned to me. "You had no right to tell her what I said."
"Mom. . .I didn't tell her anything. She heard you. She was standing in the hall."
Mom turned on Abby. "It's rude to eve's drop," she hissed. She was going to do whatever she could to shift the blame off her.
"It's also rude to call someone a whore," Abby said.
************************** ABBY'S POV
"It's not rude if it's the truth," Eleanor said.
Carter jerked forward as if he were going to hit her. I grabbed his arm to stop him. "She's NOT a whore," he snarled.
I stood beside him, biting my bottom lip. I'd never seen him so angry. His fists were clenched and the muscles in his jaw were tense.
I stepped in front of him. Despite the clear signs of anger, I could see in his eyes that he'd been hurt by Eleanor's words. "John just drop it," I said quietly, but loudly enough so that Eleanor could hear me. "It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters," Eleanor said. "I'm his mother. He cares what I think because I'm his mother." She had a triumphant smirk on her face because she knew she was right. But Carter wouldn't hear it.
"You're not my mother." He stormed into the house leaving me alone on the steps with Eleanor.
"Why does he hate me?" she asked. It wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Because you're a bitch," I said.
She pressed her lips together. "He's my son," she said sadly. "I love him. I just want him to have the best."
I said nothing. When Carter came outside again he was holding Bryanne in his arms. He stopped, as if to say something to Eleanor but changed his mind and walked to the jeep. I followed.
"John," Eleanor called. I could hear her voice break as she started to cry. I almost felt sorry for her. "John, I'm sorry." He ignored her.
As he buckled Bry into her car seat she said, "Mommy, why is the mean lady crying?"
This made Eleanor sob even harder and she disappeared into the house. I looked at Carter reproachfully. His face was hard as stone. He shook his head, warning me not to say anything.
I took his hand and didn't let go until we were home.
I stood, nailed to the floor, as I watched Abby bolt out the front door. When my brain finally connected to my feet, I ran after her.
She was sitting on the steps, her head in her hands. I put my arm around her but she moved away. "Abby. . ."
"Don't say anything, John," she said. There's nothing to be said."
"Yes there is. My mother's a bitch. I've told you that a hundred times. She's horrible."
"It's not what she said." Abby looked up at me. "It's what you said."
"I defended you," I said. "I didn't say anything."
She looked out across the yard. "You said she'd have to come up with a better argument if you were gonna take her seriously."
I just looked at her. What the hell was she on about?
"You actually considered taking her seriously." Abby glared at me. "If you really loved me, it wouldn't even cross your mind that she could make a valid point against me."
"No. . .I didn't mean. . . I just phrased it wrong, Abby. You know what I meant."
She shook her head. "No I don't. You'll have to explain it to me." She looked at me expectantly but I knew that whatever explanation I gave would not be accepted.
"I was just trying to shut her up. I love you. I don't care if she said anything valid, which she didn't. I wouldn't care if you were just after my money or if you had slept with every guy at the hospital. I love you."
She looked at me skeptically. "You would so care if I were only after your money," she said, wiping away her tears.
"Yeah, I know," I grumbled. She laughed bitterly. "But I'd still love you," I insisted. "Nothing could ever change that."
She still didn't look at me. "Maybe your just using me for sex."
"Are you insane?" I asked her. "We've had sex once since I came back to Chicago. If I were going to use someone for sex, I'd make sure that we actually, you know. . .had sex."
She laughed. "I'm sorry for over reacting," she said, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm not really mad at you. I'm mad at your mother."
"Join the club," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. "I've been mad at her for about thirty years now."
Someone cleared their throat behind us. We turned around to see my mother standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
"Your daughter is awake and calling for her mother," she said to me. She put a sarcastic emphasis on the word 'daughter.' She didn't seem to have heard a word Abby and I had said. She also seemed completely unaware that Abby had overheard her.
Abby smiled sweetly. "Why don't you comfort her, Eleanor? I'm sure you don't want a whore like me anywhere near your granddaughter."
This caught Mom off guard. Her mouth fell open for a moment and then she turned to me. "You had no right to tell her what I said."
"Mom. . .I didn't tell her anything. She heard you. She was standing in the hall."
Mom turned on Abby. "It's rude to eve's drop," she hissed. She was going to do whatever she could to shift the blame off her.
"It's also rude to call someone a whore," Abby said.
************************** ABBY'S POV
"It's not rude if it's the truth," Eleanor said.
Carter jerked forward as if he were going to hit her. I grabbed his arm to stop him. "She's NOT a whore," he snarled.
I stood beside him, biting my bottom lip. I'd never seen him so angry. His fists were clenched and the muscles in his jaw were tense.
I stepped in front of him. Despite the clear signs of anger, I could see in his eyes that he'd been hurt by Eleanor's words. "John just drop it," I said quietly, but loudly enough so that Eleanor could hear me. "It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters," Eleanor said. "I'm his mother. He cares what I think because I'm his mother." She had a triumphant smirk on her face because she knew she was right. But Carter wouldn't hear it.
"You're not my mother." He stormed into the house leaving me alone on the steps with Eleanor.
"Why does he hate me?" she asked. It wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Because you're a bitch," I said.
She pressed her lips together. "He's my son," she said sadly. "I love him. I just want him to have the best."
I said nothing. When Carter came outside again he was holding Bryanne in his arms. He stopped, as if to say something to Eleanor but changed his mind and walked to the jeep. I followed.
"John," Eleanor called. I could hear her voice break as she started to cry. I almost felt sorry for her. "John, I'm sorry." He ignored her.
As he buckled Bry into her car seat she said, "Mommy, why is the mean lady crying?"
This made Eleanor sob even harder and she disappeared into the house. I looked at Carter reproachfully. His face was hard as stone. He shook his head, warning me not to say anything.
I took his hand and didn't let go until we were home.