And the seasons they go round and round
The painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time.
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came ….
When she was certain Luka was asleep, Abby slipped quietly out of bed and put on her robe. It would be morning soon. She hadn't slept at all. She didn't have to get up for work today, but she couldn't lie in bed awake any longer. She couldn't lie beside Luka any longer.
In the kitchen she reached into the back of the cupboard where Luka kept the good dishes. The bottle was still there, still unopened, still waiting for her to need it badly enough. Luka hadn't found it. Abby opened it, got herself a glass.
"So, Jose ... I can always depend on you to be there when I need you ..." She poured three fingers of tequila, took a sip, then looked at the glass in her hand.
No, this wasn't the answer. Luka was right about that. This wouldn't solve anything, only make matters worse. It was time to stop running away, stop burying her pain. It was time to face things head on. Abby dumped the glass down the sink, then upended the bottle and watched, biting her lip, as the liquor went down the drain. Every drop of it.
Sitting on the couch Abby pulled her legs under her and shut her eyes, let her tongue taste the tequila still on her lips, tried to remember the way it could make her feel. It could make her happy. The only thing in her life that had ever made her happy. She was almost always a happy drunk, people had often commented on that. Richard didn't get drunk often, but when he did he was a mean drunk. Luka was usually a happy one though. One thing they had in common, anyway.
Oh well, the booze was gone now. No chance of getting any more until morning. So she'd have to look for happiness elsewhere. Or learn to live without it again.
She picked up the phone and, taking a deep breath, dialed. She almost hung up again before it rang, but made herself hold it to her ear, listened to it ring once, twice. After the third ring a sleepy voice answered, "Hello?"
"Hi. It's Abby. I'm sorry to be calling so early."
"It's ok. I have to be up for work in ..." Abby heard the rustle of bedding, "ninety minutes anyway. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I was just wondering ... is your couch still available?"
"What happened?" The concern in Susan's voice intensified. "Did you and Luka have a fight?"
"No, nothing like that. I almost wish we had. It would make this so much easier."
"I don't understand, Abby."
"Neither do I. But I do know that this isn't working. I think we just rushed into it too fast. Moving in together is not a good way to begin a relationship."
"You didn't rush into it, Abby. You've known each other for years ... you were ... together ... before. And you were friends before."
"Yeah. Friends." A sigh. "We're great as friends, Susan. Or maybe it's that I'm great as a friend. I know how to be friends, I know how to be a nurse, but I'm lousy at anything else. As soon as we decided to make it something more ... I guess I panicked. I always panic. He expects so much from me, I expect so much from myself ... and it scares me. I'm scared that I can't be the person he wants me to be. I'm scared that it will all fall apart again, that I'll be hurt ... that I'll hurt him.
"So I guess I'm making it happen. If I ... choose to break it ... it hurts less than if it comes apart on its own. Does that make any sense?"
"No," Susan admitted. "But I'm not the expert on relationships here. So maybe it does"
"There's so much pressure, the feeling that it has to work. It's like it was with John. He was sure we were right for each other, meant to be together. Now, Luka is too. He's so sure ... and I'm so scared."
"But you were sure too, weren't you? You told me you loved him."
"I thought I did. Maybe I do. I know I feel guilty. Maybe I'm confusing guilt and concern for love. He was hurt because of me, Susan. I wanted to make it better, make it up to him. I couldn't fix my pain ... make it go away, but maybe I could fix his. But I can't. The longer we're together, the worse it gets. Neither one of us is happy. And I hate seeing him unhappy. I don't know if I love him, but I know I don't want to make him miserable any more."
"So it's over then?"
Abby laughed a little. It was better than crying. "I don't know that one either. I know that this is over. Maybe we can have something ... some time ... when I've figured out how to love someone. When I get to that point, I think I will be able to love him. But not right now." She chuckled again. "God, Susan ... I put most of my stuff in storage when I moved in, but I still managed to bring along every bit of baggage I own. And it's never felt so heavy."
There was a long silence, then Susan asked, "Have you told him yet?"
"No. Not yet. I'll tell him later. I just need to move out of here. I'll stay with you until I find my own place. Maybe ... if we start over again ... just dating ...if we take it slowly, something will happen for us. Or maybe we'll end up breaking up anyway. Or maybe he won't want that kind of relationship with me now. I don't know anything right now."
"Well, you're welcome to stay with me again. When do you want to come over?"
"I'm not working today. Can you pick me up after you get off? That will give me time to pack ... and tell Luka. Though I think he already knows. He has to know."
"I can pick you up after work; no problem. And I'll even refrain from saying 'I told you so.'
"About what?"
"About somebody getting hurt."
"Yeah ... well ... I'll see you this evening then?"
"I'll be there."
Abby hung up the phone, closed her eyes and sighed. Sunday's paper should still be around here somewhere. She might as well start looking through the rental ads. She didn't want to impose on Susan any longer than necessary.
The paper would be in the kitchen. Abby rose to her feet and turned ... and opened her eyes.
Luka was standing in the bedroom doorway. How long had he been standing there? How much had he overheard? From the look on his face, Abby knew he'd been standing there a long time. Their eyes met. Abby knew she needed to say something, but nothing came out. Not even, 'I'm sorry.' Then Luka turned and went back into the bedroom, shut the door firmly behind him.
Abby found the real estate section and sat down to read it. But she couldn't see the words on the page. Her vision was too blurry.
And go round and round and round in the Circle Game. (Joni Mitchell)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
So, our story ends again. And yeah, I know it's another unhappy, albeit somewhat open ending. Even my daughter comments that I can't seem to write happy endings. But I try to keep my characters in character, and, at this time in their lives, Abby and Luka CAN'T be together, however much they might want things to be different.
.