TITLE At the End of Chaos
CHAPTER Christmas
SUMMARY Abby's POV Ah, Christmas…Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells!! "But, Abby; you're all I'm ever going to want. I've been engaged to you ever since I first kissed you, whether you had a ring on your finger or not."
DISCLAIMER I don't own anything: Christmas, ER, Carby, nothin'!! I just love 'em!
ABBY
Christmas. What can I say? The holiday of children, of dreams, of answered wishes. Not necessarily the perspective I have had in the past, but I have to contend that, as I look around at the ER on this holiday of light (or is that Hanukkah?), all I see is joy.
Okay, yeah; that, and about 12 screaming children.
"What are you so happy about?" I hear the voice of Susan approach behind me. She sounds significantly less cheerful than I feel. I can understand this, though, considering that this is the first Christmas for her with her daughter and she is spending it here.
"I don't know. Angels, Santa, the Christ child; it all seems worthy of happiness to me," I reply, throwing her a smirk. Her answer is a scowl as she stalks off to exam 1 to what will hopefully be her last patient. After a contented sigh and another look around, I pick up a chart and float to my next patient.
"YOU OFF?" I ASK Susan as she enters the break room.
"Yeah, and not in the least bit soon enough," she replies. The sun fell beyond the horizon about 3 hours ago, and I am eating my long-awaited and very rushed dinner. "When are you off?" she asks, wrestling her scarf out of her locker.
"At midnight." I glance at my watch. "If I get to leave on time, I should be out of here in about 4 hours."
"And what are you going to be doing tonight?" She says this with a sense of knowing; she is the only one in the ER who knows that Carter and I are back together. It's been pretty amazing how we've been able to hide it, but everyone's been so caught up in holiday craziness that they haven't been concerned with our peaceful little world.
"Carter and I are supposed to be exchanging gifts at my place when I get out. I don't know if he'll really be up for it, though; he just finished a twelve hour shift at 7, so he may very well be sleeping." I take another bite of my lasagna. "What about you?"
"Well, my baby girl should be asleep right now, so perhaps Chuck and I can get in some alone time exchanging gifts and amorous advances." I wince slightly when she says this. Somehow the idea of Chuck doing anything but sleeping in the bedroom has always kind of irked me. "But, if tonight is like all other nights," she continues with a sigh, "we'll get a quick kiss on the lips and then she'll start crying and the cycle will begin again."
"I'm sorry mommy," I respond with compassion.
"It's okay," she says, sighing again. "When she's 18 I'll be able to have sex again." She smiles and I laugh. With a wave, she walks out the door, and I quickly finish my dinner. Then I reenter the world of sick people.
"CARTER, I'M home," I say, closing my apartment door behind me. I managed to leave only 45 minutes later than planned, so I'm hoping I haven't ruined anything. As I take a few steps into my apartment, I see the glow of the tree and the flickering of candles coming from the kitchen. He's set the table for a romantic dinner for two, and I can see he's made my favorite: Chicken Francese, with a side of rice and asparagus.
"Can I take the lady's coat?" I hear him quietly in my ear as his hands slowly remove my coat. His voice is low and deep, sending a thrill of shivers up my spine. It makes me smile, as always.
Once my coat is removed, I turn to greet him, and after he has hung it up he wraps me in his arms and kisses me. It's only been 6 hours since I've seen him, but I've missed him so much. If we could manage it—and we probably could, because he has plenty of money—I think I could be content to spend all day, every day just kissing him.
"I missed you," I tell him. One of those things that I would have kept to myself before for fear of being hurt. But no more.
"Mmm…I missed you too," he responds, kissing me once more before leading me to my seat at the table. He places my napkin across my lap and sits in his own chair. I delicately slice into my chicken and take the first bite.
"Oh, John, this is so good," I say, through my food.
"I'm glad you like it," he answers, taking his own bite and smiling. "I knew you'd appreciate this after a week of frozen meals."
"Oh, do I ever!" I exclaim, and try very hard to not devour the plateful in a matter of seconds.
I do manage to eat the remainder of the meal like a lady. I politely blot my lips with my napkin and set it beside my plate, but before I know what is happening a small burp escapes my lips. My hand flies to my mouth and my eyes become large saucers as Carter just laughs at me.
"I knew you couldn't keep it up forever," he says, unable to stop laughing.
"Oh, whatever, Mr. Manners. In some cultures burping is a sign of appreciation for good food. You should take it as a compliment."
"I do, Miss Lockhart. I do." And then he's looking at me very intensely.
"John? What is—" But he kisses me and I understand. The man even loves me when I burp. How could I not be the luckiest girl in the world?
We clean up quickly and then go to sit on the couch to open gifts. The selection is somewhat scarce, as we set a limit on spending for the holiday, and it had to be based on my salary, which is considerably less than his. Neither one of us cares that much about the material gifts anyway; now that we're back together, we have all we could ask for.
The gift-exchanging process doesn't last very long, though it is interspersed with long kisses and thank yous. I get a sweater and a bath set from John. He receives a new watch and a pen set from me. He has also given me a gift certificate to his garage to fix the transmission on my car, which I protest about; unfortunately, he shushes me with kisses and I can't argue with that. But it's okay, anyway; I have something I know is more priceless than anything he has to give me.
"John, I have one more thing to give you," I say, getting up to retrieve it from my bureau drawer.
"Abby, you already exceeded your limit. Anything more you give me will have to be returned," he yells, but I see he is smiling as I come back into the room. I mean come on, he's a spoiled rich kid; he's never going to complain about one more gift.
"Well, this one didn't cost me very much, so I think it'll be okay." I sit down next to him and hand him the small white box with a bow on top. He looks up at me, still smiling, then removes the top of the box. Inside sits a key ring from the National History Museum with the words "Where History Repeats Itself" written on it. On the key ring is a key that has been burning a hole in my underwear drawer for more than a year.
"Is this…?" he asks quietly. I nod in reply. I don't know why this makes me feel so vulnerable. Essentially I've already done this, in a figurative way, but I guess this feels like the biggest confession of something done wrong, and that's why it scares me. "Abby, I don't know what to say. I guess…Thank you," he says, and then hugs me so hard I think he might break a few ribs. As he pulls away I feel the smile that has broken out on my face, and he greets me with one of his own as I see his eyes meet mine. We do that staring-at-each-other thing for a few minutes, then he surprises me by speaking. "I actually have something else for you, too."
"Carter, I already know you've broken the spending rule, so don't try to give me anything else, please." He's getting something from under the sink, and as he comes back out to the couch he's got a large box in his hands.
"This didn't actually cost me anything, so I think we're okay," he replies, setting the box in my lap. He's grinning like an idiot, which makes me wonder what could possibly be inside. I slowly untie the ribbon, and carefully unwrap the paper, and take the top off the box. Inside is…another box. What the…? I look up at Carter and he apparently thinks this is the funniest joke ever because he's laughing to himself at my confusion. "Go on, keep going," he says, pushing the box a little.
"All right, all right," I reply, pulling out the second box. I take the top off this one to find…another damn box. "Carter—" I start, but he cuts me off. This was funny for, like, five seconds.
"Just keep going, Abby. I promise it'll be worth it." So I continue, and inside this box is another box. I'm trying really hard to not kill him right now, but I figure if I do that I won't ever find out what's in here because then the police would be here and I'd be arrested and this would probably be confiscated as evidence.
So I refrain from murder.
I open up two more boxes until I am down to one that is…well, it's ring-sized. And I glance up at Carter and then back down, and I open this last box and inside is the ring box that I remember falling out of his coat pocket almost two years ago. I can't even open it, all I can do is glance between it and Carter until eventually words come out of my mouth.
"John, I—I don't know what to say." I see that his face has fallen and I realize that perhaps my tone was expressing more of my shock than I had thought. "I just—I mean, a week ago you didn't know if we were ready to be having sex, and now you're proposing?"
"I'm not really proposing. Giving you this was more a way of saying that this is what I want for us. I mean, we aren't even living together, so I don't expect that we should be planning a wedding. But, Abby; you're all I'm ever going to want. I've been engaged to you ever since I first kissed you, whether you had a ring on your finger or not." He pauses, swallowing, and I feel a familiar pricking behind my eyes. "I'm giving you this now so that you know that someday—hopefully sooner rather than later—I want you to wear this on your finger. If you're not—if we're not—ready now, then that's okay. But I've let too much time slip by without you, and I don't want to do that anymore." He meets my gaze again, and I can see that his eyes are glistening, too. He's uncertain about my response, I can tell. I lean over, knocking the many boxes out of my way, and kiss him in a way that I hope gives him all the answers he needs. I don't want him to be scared of me anymore. I break away from his lips very briefly, only to utter a few words I want him to hear.
"I'm ready whenever you are," I say, smiling, and then we fall back on the couch together, to consummate the deal.