Authors Note- Hey sorry its been awhile since I've updated this fic, I have been busy writing another one of my fics with author AbbyLockhart2, its called Hate to Love and Back, go check it out. Oh also go read her other fics they are amazing trust me you won't be let down, Unknown secrets and hidden lies, and winding roads (I hope I got the titles right) Anyways here's chapter 3, from Carters POV I hope you like it! Please read and review.
Chapter 3
Carters P O V
I'm walking around in a complete daze, I woke up this morning the same old John Truman Carter I've been for the last 30 plus years and all of the sudden, bam I have a child? Impossible. I don't believe it, not for a second. Is it possible? Possibly. But not comprehendible. Abby would not do that. She would not abandon her son. She is not dead either, I remember Susan talking to her about six months ago, hell it could have been sooner then that for all I know they could be best friends and see each other everyday. I have not spoken to Abby since she left and went back to Minnesota, she and I drifted after the break up which was fine with me. I needed to get on with my life, get away from everything Abby. I am still single, which is fine by me. Single but happy. I have dated here and there, and even travelled to Africa to help people there. I am sure Abby is just as happy with her life. I haven't really thought about it though. I haven't thought much about Abby for the last couple of years. I loved her, with all my heart, god did I love her. It couldn't work though. She didn't love me, not like she should at least. She needed a shoulder to lean on and I was it. I wasn't what she wanted.
I exit the lounge, and come to the conclusion, that these people have the wrong guy. They must have tracked back all of Abby's ex's or something, I don't have a bleeding clue as to what they did, but they found the wrong guy. I do feel bad for the child though. What's his name? Addison? Act something or other. If Abby is his mother I hope she goes back to him. "Hey what was that all about?" I look up at Pratt. I must look a little shocked, or mad because he steps back a bit. "Oh- uh nothing." I say flopping my hand in the air. He nods at me then leaves the admit area. I look over my chart, although I know the kid is not mine, I can't seem to get him off my mind. "Hey Carter." Susan this time.
"Hey." I mumble, trying to concentrate on the chart in front of me.
"I heard you had an anonymous visitor." She smiles. I scoff at this.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Who was he?" She presses. I walk towards the lounge signalling her to follow me. She does so, and takes a seat on the worn out leather sofa. "Uh- some social worker." I still have the chart in my hand and nervously fiddle with it. "A social worker?" She asks puzzled. I laugh nervously. "Yeah... Uh- he said I have a son." I shrug taking a seat beside her. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops. "A son?" She whispers. I keep my eyes fixated on the chart. "Uh- a boy, about eight or so, apparently. His name is- God why can't I remember this kids name-" I battle myself to remember the poor foster kids name. Susan looks anxious to hear more. "Anyways, this kid, he uh- the social worker, James said that this is my child with Abby." I laugh at this, that is the most unbelievable part of all this. We always used birth control, if not doubled up on it. "No way." She says laying back against the couch cushion. I nodded my head, biting my bottom lip. We stay silent for a moment each lost in their own thoughts. "Do you still talk to Abby?" I ask breaking the silence. She looks at me. "Uh- from time to time. She moved back to Chicago about three years ago." She explains.
Maybe I should call her, and discuss this with her, I am 99% sure this child isn't mine, and most likely not hers, but still.
* * * * * * * *
Its late, like two in the morning late. I dump my over packed brief case down on the floor of my crowded apartment. I just moved in here a couple months ago. I sigh tiredly, going over to my message machine, to see if anyone called me. A big fat red ZERO! Well I should have known, most of the people I hang out with I worked with today. I reach into my coat pocket and find the slip of paper. I unfold it and look it over. 'Abby Lockhart- 555- 6754.' I cringe. To call, or not to call, that is the question. I Fold the paper up in my hand and take my jacket off, flicking on the light switch. Boxes crowd the tiny apartment. I like it though, its spunky. Perfect for a single guy. I push by a big box and walk over to my cordless phone. I turn it on, then off. Then on again, all the while contemplating calling Abby. I turn the phone off one more time setting it down on my kitchen table sighing. I walk over to my bedroom, and then stop. 'Just call her.' I think. I decide that's my only real option. I walk over to the phone switching it on, and unfolding the paper dialling her number. It rings, once, twice, three times. I am about to hang up when a groggy male voice groggily answers. "yeah." oops, maybe this is the wrong number. I look at the piece of paper in my hand, nope right number. "Uh- Hi, is Abby there please?" I know its late, but this is serious and needs to be dealt with tonight. I can tell I caught the mans attention, because he clears his throat and asks his next question with a bit of an edge. "Who is this?" I am suddenly nervous, I did dial the right number, this man probably is Abby's boyfriend, and assumes we are having an affair. "Uh- John, I stammer."
"How do you know Abby?" He seems to be angrier.
"Look- I don't know who you are but I am not having an affair with Abby I just need to speak with her." I plead.
"I'll tell you who I am." He booms. "I am her boyfriend, and if you ever call her again, night or day I will hunt you down." He hollers. I pull the phone away from my ear wincing. Well this is going well.
"Can you tell her I called?" I ask exasperated.
"NO." The man says as though I am stupid, which I am for asking this question.
"Look I am an old colleague of Abby's we worked together a long time ago-"
"John, John Carter." He sighs.
"Uh-yeah."
"Stay away from Abby." With that he slams the phone down, I hang up, hm, maybe I should talk to Susan and see where she works, I'm pretty sure Susan said Mercy. I would think she is working now, because I did not hear a female voice asking who it was, which you would think if she was home she might be woken up by that mans yelling. Oh well, its late and I'm tired, I'll have to deal with this in the morning.
Chapter 3
Carters P O V
I'm walking around in a complete daze, I woke up this morning the same old John Truman Carter I've been for the last 30 plus years and all of the sudden, bam I have a child? Impossible. I don't believe it, not for a second. Is it possible? Possibly. But not comprehendible. Abby would not do that. She would not abandon her son. She is not dead either, I remember Susan talking to her about six months ago, hell it could have been sooner then that for all I know they could be best friends and see each other everyday. I have not spoken to Abby since she left and went back to Minnesota, she and I drifted after the break up which was fine with me. I needed to get on with my life, get away from everything Abby. I am still single, which is fine by me. Single but happy. I have dated here and there, and even travelled to Africa to help people there. I am sure Abby is just as happy with her life. I haven't really thought about it though. I haven't thought much about Abby for the last couple of years. I loved her, with all my heart, god did I love her. It couldn't work though. She didn't love me, not like she should at least. She needed a shoulder to lean on and I was it. I wasn't what she wanted.
I exit the lounge, and come to the conclusion, that these people have the wrong guy. They must have tracked back all of Abby's ex's or something, I don't have a bleeding clue as to what they did, but they found the wrong guy. I do feel bad for the child though. What's his name? Addison? Act something or other. If Abby is his mother I hope she goes back to him. "Hey what was that all about?" I look up at Pratt. I must look a little shocked, or mad because he steps back a bit. "Oh- uh nothing." I say flopping my hand in the air. He nods at me then leaves the admit area. I look over my chart, although I know the kid is not mine, I can't seem to get him off my mind. "Hey Carter." Susan this time.
"Hey." I mumble, trying to concentrate on the chart in front of me.
"I heard you had an anonymous visitor." She smiles. I scoff at this.
"Yeah, I guess."
"Who was he?" She presses. I walk towards the lounge signalling her to follow me. She does so, and takes a seat on the worn out leather sofa. "Uh- some social worker." I still have the chart in my hand and nervously fiddle with it. "A social worker?" She asks puzzled. I laugh nervously. "Yeah... Uh- he said I have a son." I shrug taking a seat beside her. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops. "A son?" She whispers. I keep my eyes fixated on the chart. "Uh- a boy, about eight or so, apparently. His name is- God why can't I remember this kids name-" I battle myself to remember the poor foster kids name. Susan looks anxious to hear more. "Anyways, this kid, he uh- the social worker, James said that this is my child with Abby." I laugh at this, that is the most unbelievable part of all this. We always used birth control, if not doubled up on it. "No way." She says laying back against the couch cushion. I nodded my head, biting my bottom lip. We stay silent for a moment each lost in their own thoughts. "Do you still talk to Abby?" I ask breaking the silence. She looks at me. "Uh- from time to time. She moved back to Chicago about three years ago." She explains.
Maybe I should call her, and discuss this with her, I am 99% sure this child isn't mine, and most likely not hers, but still.
* * * * * * * *
Its late, like two in the morning late. I dump my over packed brief case down on the floor of my crowded apartment. I just moved in here a couple months ago. I sigh tiredly, going over to my message machine, to see if anyone called me. A big fat red ZERO! Well I should have known, most of the people I hang out with I worked with today. I reach into my coat pocket and find the slip of paper. I unfold it and look it over. 'Abby Lockhart- 555- 6754.' I cringe. To call, or not to call, that is the question. I Fold the paper up in my hand and take my jacket off, flicking on the light switch. Boxes crowd the tiny apartment. I like it though, its spunky. Perfect for a single guy. I push by a big box and walk over to my cordless phone. I turn it on, then off. Then on again, all the while contemplating calling Abby. I turn the phone off one more time setting it down on my kitchen table sighing. I walk over to my bedroom, and then stop. 'Just call her.' I think. I decide that's my only real option. I walk over to the phone switching it on, and unfolding the paper dialling her number. It rings, once, twice, three times. I am about to hang up when a groggy male voice groggily answers. "yeah." oops, maybe this is the wrong number. I look at the piece of paper in my hand, nope right number. "Uh- Hi, is Abby there please?" I know its late, but this is serious and needs to be dealt with tonight. I can tell I caught the mans attention, because he clears his throat and asks his next question with a bit of an edge. "Who is this?" I am suddenly nervous, I did dial the right number, this man probably is Abby's boyfriend, and assumes we are having an affair. "Uh- John, I stammer."
"How do you know Abby?" He seems to be angrier.
"Look- I don't know who you are but I am not having an affair with Abby I just need to speak with her." I plead.
"I'll tell you who I am." He booms. "I am her boyfriend, and if you ever call her again, night or day I will hunt you down." He hollers. I pull the phone away from my ear wincing. Well this is going well.
"Can you tell her I called?" I ask exasperated.
"NO." The man says as though I am stupid, which I am for asking this question.
"Look I am an old colleague of Abby's we worked together a long time ago-"
"John, John Carter." He sighs.
"Uh-yeah."
"Stay away from Abby." With that he slams the phone down, I hang up, hm, maybe I should talk to Susan and see where she works, I'm pretty sure Susan said Mercy. I would think she is working now, because I did not hear a female voice asking who it was, which you would think if she was home she might be woken up by that mans yelling. Oh well, its late and I'm tired, I'll have to deal with this in the morning.