Well I have to say thanks to loads of you – you're great
LoopyLu1, starbright, Hibbs, HappyAbby, ficticious character, steelerfan, abbyl and squiggle 7
Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou
Carter appears in this one – it's what you've all been waiting for
And I hope I don't disappoint
Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
Beyond All Of Everything. Chapter Three. Fidelity
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o SUMMARY OF CHAPTER 2: Ollie (Abby's son) asks for her to stay sober as a sixth birthday present.
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"You all ready for bed?" Abby calls as she hops into the living room, attempting to pull on a shoe whilst she walks. She tugs it on and catches sight of her five-year old son asleep on the couch; he has toothpaste dried around his mouth and she laughs slightly.
"Well, almost," she murmurs as a reply to her own question. She gently lifts him from the sofa; he stirs and mumbles. As she lays him down on his own bed, he opens one eye and peers at her.
"I'm going out in a moment, but I promise I won't be gone for long," she whispers. He opens both eyes.
"Will you be home before – "
"I'll be home before Daddy gets back," she nods, running her hand over his forehead and through his hair. His mouth curves up in a small satisfied smile and he closes his sleepy eyes again. Abby carefully wipes away the toothpaste with a wet flannel; brushing his own teeth was not his strong point. Then she kisses him softly and leaves the apartment.
Now she is sitting on a plastic chair in the community hall. She hopes they don't do that whole introducing thing; she can't imagine herself saying, in her most whiny, put-on voice: 'Hi, my name's Abby and I'm an alcoholic.' Just the thought of it made her cringe; Ollie had no idea what he was putting her through.
"Abby?" a familiar voice behind her asks in disbelief. She turns to find Dr John Carter, a guy from work, standing there. He smiles on seeing her, though he looks surprised.
"Hey, didn't expect to see anyone I knew here," she greets. He looks awkward; they both have a lot of explaining to do now that they have been caught here at the meeting. "What are you doing here?" she asks.
Ah, the dreaded question. It seems fair enough to want to ask but not something anyone particularly wants to answer.
"Erm – I was addicted to – " He rubs the back of his neck, uneasily. "Well, painkillers mainly."
"Wow, any reason why?" she presses before adding: "I'm sorry; if this is more than you want to share you can just tell me to shut up." He laughs.
"No, it's – it's something I'd rather not go into, actually." Carter smiles briefly. "How about you?"
"I'm a drunk," Abby shrugs simply.
"Any particular story behind that?" he asks. She looks at him for a while before shaking her head.
"No, no reason," she says finally. He nods but looks at her curiously. Not many people knew Abby at work. Well, she was the kind of person who you thought you knew until you started to think in depth about her and then you realised that you really didn't. She didn't let people get too close. He knew she had a son, Ollie. He'd seen him around; cute kid – very polite. He knew she had had to pull out of med school because she fell pregnant and he had heard she was married, though nobody had actually seen her husband.
The meeting begins and flows on but he is barely aware of it. Now that he comes to think of it, he doesn't know her at all. He finds that he spends the whole hour staring at her and that whenever he hears her voice he strains his ears, guiltily eavesdropping, intrigued and trying to find out anything more about this woman. Suddenly he wants to know more. This wasn't Abby who was called for when they needed to bag a patient or fit an IV tube – this was…she was something else altogether.
"Is she always that patronising?" Abby mutters, referring to their tutor, when the meeting is over and the chairs are stacked.
"Huh?" John Carter is jolted back to reality. He had stared at her for so long he had forgotten that he, himself, existed.
"This is my first time; is she always so patronising?" Abby repeats. Carter grins.
"Who? Amanda? Yeah, I think she used to be a kindergarten teacher," he replies. Abby raises her eyebrows.
"Ah, that'd explain it," she smiles. "Did the kids not have enough drug and alcohol problems to keep her interested?"
"Maybe they had too many," Carter answers with a smirk.
"John and Abby – please will you shut off the lights as you leave?" Amanda calls in an unnaturally high and singing voice. Carter and Abby look around them; they hadn't realised they were the last ones left. They turn back to each other at the same time, holding the gaze for only a moment; they both break away and look shyly at the floor.
"Would you like you get a drink or something?" Carter suggests, finally looking up. Abby smiles briefly.
"Well you're a great help – I come here to get sober and after one meeting you're trying to get me drunk," she jokes.
"No, no I meant coffee or something – I didn't mean – " Carter stutters, hurriedly.
"Carter, I was kidding. Calm down," Abby reassures him. "Coffee sounds good."
John and Abby obediently shut off the lights as they leave.
She sits in the booth, her hands wrapped around the warm mug of coffee. He watches her and strangely begins to feel strongly over the coffee cup in her hands – it's jealously. He smiles to himself in the comfortable silence; they have talked about almost everything and he was still left clueless and curious about this woman. And he's envying her drink. Ha! But still – her fingers surround the whole ceramic mug and then she lifts the edge to her lips… He has got to stop thinking like this; there, twinkling on her finger is a small, but very real wedding ring.
Abby peers out of the window into murky darkness; it's quiet here, calm, warm and cosy. She could stay here on these fake leather seats, her elbows on this plastic table-top and her company being this very man – forever... She shakes herself suddenly. Where did that thought come from? Frowning confusedly and slightly surprised at herself, she looks back at him. He is deeply studying his hands in his lap and the parts of his face that are visible are tinged pink. He finally looks casually up at her, desperately attempting to act like he hadn't been staring at her for hours on end.
"Oh God, what's the time?" Abby asks him, suddenly. Carter's sleeve slides back to let him check his watch.
"Nine o'clock," he tells her.
"Already?" she looks flustered.
"Yeah, it went pretty quick, didn't it?" he comments. She is already on her feet and frantically gathering up her things.
"Oh Jesus, I promised Ollie I'd get back before…" she rushes the explanation and waves a hand, vaguely to dismiss the end of the sentence. "I'm sorry. Thankyou. Oh crap. I've got to – erm. Thanks, John. Sorry, I have to go. Now."
Carter watches her, fascinated and dazed.
"Thanks for coffee," she says, finally, having gathered up her coat, her purse, her cell phone, her everything in a big bundle. "I'll see you tomorrow." She kisses his cheek and is gone.
It was too quick for her to contemplate whether or not it was appropriate to kiss him just yet, but she was in a rush and did it anyway. Only now he's left to think about it too much. He gets up and leaves, thrusting his hands deep into his coat pockets as he steps out into the dark night. A cab rolls by but he doesn't hail it. Maybe he'll just walk home.
She is running up the stairs; there is no point in having an elevator in her building – it never works.
Please, please – please don't be home. She prays as she dashes, breathless, up the stairs. She fumbles with her key in the lock but the door swings open for her.
"Where've you been?" Richard snarls. She almost feels like turning around and running back down the stairs when she sees him leering at her. She almost feels like running out and back down the streets – back to the late-night diner where she imagines John Carter is still sitting, waiting…
"Where the hell've you been?" Richard demands. "What good are you? Running off in the middle of the night? Some mother you are." Abby looks past him to see Ollie peering around his bedroom door, crying. She forces a smile for him and turns back to her husband.
"I'm back, now. It doesn't matter where I've been. It doesn't matter cos now I'm back, aren't I?" she tells him, quietly. The reasoning is too much for Richard's mind, clouded by alcohol, to register. He grabs her hand and pulls her inside.
"Just shut up, Abby. Always have an answer to everything, don't you?" he mutters.
Abby compels herself to look at her little boy to remind herself of why she always comes back. Ollie chews on his bottom lip and scrubs the tears from his face with his pyjama sleeve. He uncertainly returns her smile and disappears back into his room as Richard slams the front door shut. She needs to remember her reasons behind everything she does; she needs to keep that in mind. Otherwise, she thinks, otherwise if she had it her way, she'd return to a very different home at the end of each day.