OH MAN! It took me a little longer to get this chapter out than I thought. Once again, I kept finding paragraphs to rewrite and ideas to slash. But here it is and I so very much appreciate all your reviews and all your encouragement to continue. I think there is only one chapter left of this story and it will be both Carter and Abbys point of views. So look for it . . . I don't know when. But I am working on it. Let me know what you think of this chapter. It's full of angst. But you all know me; I won't keep it that way for very long. Thanks again for reading!
Chapter Seven: "Perchance to Dream"
I run through the field calling my children's names, the wind tugging my shirt tight against my chest. I lift my knees high to jump over the tall grass, my eyes following the yellow diamond shaped kite in the sky.
"You're doing it Jack, you're flying a kite!" I yell out to my oldest child.
"Daddy, look how high it is"
"Honey, are you seeing this!" Calling out to my wife, I turn around to catch her lying in a bed of grass, her sunglasses on her head as she sits up on her elbows to watch her son flying his first kite.
"Good job baby, keep running!" Her voice gets closer and closer until I feel her jump on my back. Instinctively I grab her bare feet and pull them around my waist, running my hands up and down her bare legs.
"Mommy, when's it my turn?" My other angel tugs at her mothers' foot from the ground below, her big brown eyes shinning in the sunlight.
"Right now sweet pea. Jack, come give your sister a turn!" Abby yells out to our son before whispering into my ear. " John you have to run with her she can't go that fast." Her voice tickles my ear before she kisses my cheek and jumps off my back so I can lift Jessie onto my shoulders.
"Hold on Jess were gonna go fast" I take off down the hill, one hand holding Jessie on my shoulders, the other clutching our yellow kite.
"Go extra fast daddy"
"Careful John" My wife cautions from a distance, her number one job is worrying about me and the kids.
A few moments later I jog back up the hill, the kite slowly falling from the sky as I come to a halt at Abbys feet.
"Mommy, did you see me fly the kite!"
"Yes, baby. Jack and I watched from right here!"
I let Jessie down and she jumps into her moms lap, Abby attacking her with kisses as they fall over into the grass together. Hovering above them, I watch the tall green ferns engulfs my family, the kids laughing as my wife tickles their little tummies. They are the three most beautiful people in the world.
I wake with a start and look around the dark bedroom, the clock at the bedside glowing three am. It's been forever since I've had that dream, a dream that I never thought I would have again. It's the same exact dream I used to have every night until Kem and my baby was born still. Months ago the dream was a pleasant fantasy, a scenario that I would play out of my happy family with Kem. It was a beautiful dream that I would will myself to have every night before I fell asleep. It's the same dream now, the same words escaping my mouth. I am running with the same kite, down the same hill and dreaming of a different woman, and children of a lighter complexion. Ten months later, someone else is playing the part of my wife, my beautiful best friend; my friend that I have been sharing a bed with almost every night for the past month.
I catch myself smile in the darkness before I turn over and face the sleeping figure next to me. Reaching out to her, I sweep her hair out of her face and run my hand across her back. I can't believe that I have been sleeping at Abbys apartment almost every night for the past four weeks. It's been nearly thirty days of cuddling under her covers; six weeks of goofing around, AA meetings and coffee, late night conversations and quiet moments by the fireplace. We have had everything that a romantic relationship entails. We eat meals together every chance we get. We have keys to each others homes and combinations to each others lockers. We rent movies and cuddle in front of the television and often end up staying over at each others places, falling asleep in each others embrace. There is a comfortable closeness that we share, a deep care for each other, but an understanding that our physical closeness won't go beyond sleeping in each others arms. Months ago we tried to be friends that casually had sex, but once 'casual' turned into something that was happening every evening the friendship withered away and all hopes for a normal relationship with Abby flew out the window. It wasn't until recently that I realized that we are slowly building our relationship back up, starting at the beginning with a close friendship. Every time we share a meal, every glance from across the hospital, every night that we climb into bed together, we are getting closer and closer. Some might say that it's too close, that it's unhealthy to share a bed with someone and have a boundary that can't be crossed. And even I know that this could be dysfunctional, but I somehow feel so settled when I sleep next to her. And even though I can't touch her the way I yearn to, having her next to me is better than not having her at all.
She stirs a little and changes position in her sleep, causing the comforter to fall loosely around her hips. I lye facing her with my head in my palm, watching her get comfortable, her bare arms sprouting goose bumps. She turns over onto her stomach and thrusts her arms underneath her as I watch her with amusement. She's cold and she doesn't realize that the comforter has been pushed off of her. When her lips start to chatter I stop my ogling and pull her to me, running my hands over her back before grabbing the comforter and placing it back over us.
"Its freezing" She mumbles into my ear and cuddles closer to my chest, the heat radiating off of our bodies and warming each other under the covers.
"Better?"
"Umhmm"
I smile as I run my hands down her bare arms, holding her close to me and using the excuse that she is cold so I can continue touching her. When I glance at her in the darkness, I want to take away everything that could be unpleasant for her. I want to give her the world, to make her happy the way that I see her in my dream. . . . And it is no surprise that I have fallen in love with her all over again.
I grab the groceries out of the paper bag and start to scurry around the kitchen in an attempt to get dinner started before Abby gets home from a 24 hour shift. She hates working that long so I thought it would be nice to make her dinner, especially since she has taken me in and offered her home to me as my own. As I finish unpacking the bag I hear the familiar sound of keys jingling on the other side of the doorway and a smile creeps onto my face. I still get excited to see her after every time that we are apart. And in this case it's been longer than usual. I slept in her bed alone last night, I could have stayed at my place, but something about just being around her belongings makes me feel closer to her.
She walks in the door and greets me with a tired smile, surprised to see that I am working in the kitchen.
"Hey, I went to the fish market and brought home some dinner for us."
She raises her eyebrows and heads into the kitchen, inspecting the mess that I'm in the middle of making.
"You're gonna cook that?"
"Yes, I'm gonna cook this"
"How do you know how to prepare. ." She flips the package over and reads the label. "Halibut?"
"Well the fish expert guy told me what to do."
"What's the occasion?"
"I just wanted to make you dinner." She jumps onto the counter and lifts her brows, surprised at my slightly romantic gesture and I knock her in the leg playfully so my response doesn't sound too serious.
"I don't know, as a thank you for letting me crash here all the time."
"You don't need to do that . . . but I'll let you anyway." She smiles flirtatiously, although she probably didn't mean to; she sometimes just oozes with cuteness. "And then you can fix the shower door for me. It fell off the track again." Abby shrugs her shoulders with the cutest guilty look on her face. She always asks me to fix her shower; little does she know, it's not hard to do that at all and it's really my pleasure to do anything for her.
"Anything for you, Pumpkin." I reply with snort. I've started to call her cheesy love names as a joke, a different one each time I respond to her requests. I think it's our way of mocking our odd relationship. We share a quick laugh at my latest, (last week it was sugar) before she jumps off the counter and scurries out of the kitchen, dropping her bag on the couch on her way to the bedroom.
"Umm, by the way, do you need some money?" I call out to her as I watch her walk down the short hall.
"What?"
"Like rent. I've been staying here so much that I kinda' feel wrong for not offering sooner." She peaks her head out of the bedroom door and I look up at her, noticing that she's already got most of her work clothing off.
"Carter you paid my tuition last year, I think I owe you one . . .or a gazillion"
She closes the door again and I finish putting the fish in the oven, making my way into the den to relax.
"So, I was asked out today by a patient." She yells from behind her bedroom door and immediately I feel a sting run throughout my whole body.
"Who?"
"Some lawyer with a migraine. I told him that I was married." Abby raises her brows at me as she emerges from the bedroom clad in a pair of drawstrings sweatpants and cozy slippers.
"Liar"
"I know, but I felt bad." I watch her disappear into the kitchen to make some coffee, throwing one last remark over her shoulder. "He was kind of cute."
I cringe as I imagine another man touching her, kissing her, holding her like I do. I wonder what his name was, probably something stuffy like Chaz or Edward, and I begin to wonder when she'll come to realize that neither one of us ever needs to go on another date again.
"So why didn't you say yes?"
She peeks her head around the corner and grabs my attention replying sarcastically, "Oh and bring him over afterward so the three of us can play scrabble."
"If you want to go out with him I'll stay at my place that night." I offer her this just to be polite, but also almost to push her buttons, to let her think that I won't mind her going out with another man. Hmmm . . .what do you call that? Playing hard to get? But there is no way that I could ever feel okay with this. I can't even imagine how I would feel if Abby were to start dating.
"I don't want to go out with him." She laughs at our banter as she plops down on the couch next to me, comfortably resting her feet in my lap. I'm relieved at her answer but I can't help but wonder why she really turned him down. But I'll let it go for now because secretly in my head I'm doing a victory dance celebrating her decline.
Hours later we've finished eating our meal and the kitchen is almost clean as the tea kettle whistles that our water is ready for its tea bags.
"I'll get it, go sit down." Abby offers before she grabs the pot, yanking it from my hands and ushering me out of the kitchen.
"Thanks"
"Thank you again for dinner"
"Anytime"
"What times your shift tomorrow?" She asks as she settles comfortably on the couch next to me, dropping a glob of honey into each of our mugs.
"Six. Do you want me to go home so I don't wake you in the morning?" I silently prey that she won't take me up onmy offer.
"No, you're my personal heating system."
"Oh that's all I'm good for!" I feign being hurt before I playfully throw a pillow at her.
"No, you're also really good at fixing the shower." She smirks, proud of her quick facetious comment, before she grabs the remote and flicks off the television.
"I'm exhausted; I've got to go to sleep." Abby gets up from the couch and starts to walk toward the bedroom, turning around to check to see if I am following her. I smile as I sit there watching her look at me. She caulks her head suggestively, not in a sexy way but in a sweet way. She's waiting for me to come to bed.
I slip my shirt over my head and climb into bed as Abby rummages through her drawers to find something warmer to sleep in. I watch her as she slips the shirt over the wife-beater that she is already wearing and I smile at her expression as she steals a peak of herself in the mirror. She crawls into bed and I pull a pillow to my body and hug it against my chest, a trick that I use often when I am yearning to cross the line. 'Hold the pillow', I tell myself. It will fill my arms while she sleeps so close; it's a placebo affect and hopefully tonight it will work.
I wake in the middle of the night, startled again by my now reoccurring dream, the third night in a row that my mind has played me the same sequences while I sleep. I really don't mind so much having the same dream each night; it's a pleasant fantasy that I often prey will become a reality, my beautiful children and their amazing mother. We would be the happiest family.
I toss my body a few times, getting comfortable next to Abby as I watch her sleep, wishing that I could sleep as peacefully as she does every night. I find myself awake quite often just staring at her and yearning to get closer, hoping that she'll get chilled enough to seek the warmth from my body. Most nights she'll move inside of my embrace, allow me to run my hands down her arms and pull her closer. Other nights, she stays perfectly still on her side of the bed. I try to let her initiate every bit of our closeness when we're in bed together. The last thing I want to do is violate her personal space, although lately it seems that we are sharing the same space.
Tonight she sleeps effortlessly, warm in the extra layer of flannel pajamas that she opted for this cold evening. Abby usually sleeps in a fitted tank top and short sleep shorts, her bare legs occasionally sweeping mine under the covers. There are times when I find it almost painful to stare at her while she sleeps because it's so hard to resist touching her, pulling her into my arms as she lies unconscious. I have to use all the restraint that I can muster and this evening it's just hard not to hold her; it hurts not to feel her and I don't know how much longer I can be so close and not have her completely.
The minutes go by as I watch the clock over Abbys shoulder and I know that I won't be getting back to sleep any time soon. It seems that my body just doesn't want to let go, or my heart just wants to keep watching her as she sleeps. But I need to get away from her right now, the aching becoming too much for me to handle and I'm hopeful that if I'm not in her presence the pain might subside. I get out of bed and pull the covers back over Abby, making sure that she's warm before I gently pad into the living room and turn on a small lamp at the side of the couch. I pull a medical journal from the coffee table and open it in my lap, the words all blurring together under the week hovering light. Rubbing my fingers over my eyes I try to adjust to the bright light contrasted by the darkness in the rest of the apartment. Looking down at the book again, the lines still blur together and I am forced to close it. I place the book back on the coffee table and look up to find the television remote, and there Abby is, standing in the doorway, cocking her head at me. She looks so cute when she's been sleeping, her hair messy around her face, she's swimming in her oversized pajama set.
"Hey" She smiles in the darkness, the weak glow of the lamp light reflecting off her sun kissed skin, her voice raspy, laced with sleep.
"Hi"
"What are you doing on the couch?"
"I couldn't sleep . . . I didn't want to wake you with my tossing and turning . . . Why are you up?"
"I guess I kind of got used to sleeping next you and ya know its kind of cold without my personal heating system." She makes her way over to me and I smile at her joke, secretly glad that she's come to join me in the den in the middle of the night. She taps my feet and I make room for her to sit next to me on the couch, resting my legs back on her lap after she has made herself comfortable. We sit comfortably in the quiet night, sharing a type of silence that is only true at this early hour. For some reason, right now it feels like there is nothing else that matters. There is only a quiet black Abyss beyond the lamp that we're sitting under. We are the only life in this world.
I reach out and sweep the side of Abbys head and then grab a piece of her long hair, twirling it between my fingers. She smiles at my gesture and leans her head on the back of the couch before breaking our silence with a whisper.
"You were dreaming before"
"Yeah"
"What were you dreaming about?"
"Flying a kite with our kids"
"We have kids?" Her lips curl into a hint of a smile as she asks the question, almost as if she has thought about what our children would be like as well.
"Well in my dream we do . . . Jack and Jessie"
"Is Jessie a boy or a girl?"
"A girl . . . looks just like you" Her eyes light up for a moment and I can imagine that she is picturing a sweet little face in her head, big brown eyes and two pink ribbons tied securely onto long, dark pigtails. But then her expression turns to what I can only describe as heartache. I look down at my hands with a pang of regret as I feel her lifting my feet off of her lap. She stands up and moves to the other side of the room, pushing her hair out of her face and leaning against the wall deep in thought. I know somehow sharing my vision of our children has upset her and even though I'm not inside her head, I can tell exactly what she's thinking. It will never happen. We have killed all hope for the happily ever after and she doesn't want to be where we were six weeks ago. She doesn't want to go back to having sex with out love.
"I don't think you should sleep here anymore" She breaks me out of my thoughts aftera long silence. With no expression, the words come out of her mouth almost as if she is thinking out loud.
I look over at her and watch as she bites down on her bottom lip and I'm trying to think of anything that could save me now, anything that could possibly take back the confession that I just made. But there is no excuse and all there is to do is concede. Somehow I knew it wasn't quite time to share my dream with her, but I couldn't resist. I knew that I would scare her away, say too much and pressure her into granting me the fairy tale ending that I so badly want for us. It's not that I think she doesn't want it, she's just not yet convinced that it's what I really want. She's afraid that I'm not ready to love her.
"I thought you might say that." I simply give up, these isn't anything that's going to change the way I feel and every moment I'm with her just makes it harder not to be honest about my feelings.
"It's just too complicated Carter"
"I know." I do know; she's right. We've made this too complicated, taken this relationship too far to settle for friendship.
"So then why are you still here?"
"There's no place I would rather be" What I really want to tell her is that I'm here because I love her, that the crumbs I get by holding her at night are just barely satisfying my need to be with her. We sleep together almost every night, sharing a bed, our personal space. I touch her, rub my hands down her back, her arms, and I don't know if she sees that there is so much meaning in our contact. I don't know if she sees that I love her, sees that I am waiting for her to let me get closer. I know by now that she feels safe with me, when I am with her late at night she trusts that I won't take advantage of her. She trusts that I will love her in all other ways.
"You don't want to be here with me. I mean, don't you think this is all just an illusion." She raises her arms as if she is holding the room in her hands, showing me this dysfunctional cocoon that we have created.
I watch Abby as she moves toward the window at the far end of the room and leans her back on it in exhaustion. She runs her fingers across her lips and focuses on an object in the distance before she whispers her next words into the air, "Your dream . . . . . It's just a dream."
She sadly shrugs her shoulders as I try to open my mouth in any form of rebuttal, and I'm desperately searching for something that I can say to make her understand. Yes, it's a dream, but it's my dream, and I want it. I want the kids and the family and the kite and the meadow . . . and her. And somehow I can't muster the guts to really tell her, or it simply isn't the right time because I've already succeeded in scaring her away. She thinks this won't work again and she's afraid to try.
I continue to stare at her, my mouth open, waiting for my words but she speaks before me.
"You should just go home and stay there for a while . . . I don't know. . . maybe we need to back off of this whole sleeping-over-slumber-party living situation."
"For how long?" She continues to look down at the ground silently, her hands brushing her hair out of her face to reveal a tear sliding down her cheek. "Abby, for how long?"
"I don't know Carter." She croaks out the words and sniffles before I get up from the couch and walk over to her. I reach my hand out to touch her face but she guiltily backs away from me and steadies herself against the wall. But I won't let her avoid this contact that easily. If I am going to leave, I need to just touch her one last time, and it only takes her one more second to realize that she is going to miss me as much as I am going to miss her. I am about to walk away when she looks up at me and reaches her hand out. Sniffling back a tear, she grazes my arm and I turn around and reach for her, running my hands over her hair. I lightly grab her face so I can look at her and ingrain her beauty in my memory; the way her nose reminds me of the most perfect ski slope, the way her wet lashes seem to grow miles when she cries. Pulling her to me, I kiss the top of her head and whisper to her with my lips still lingering on her forehead, my arms clutching her close to me.
"I don't want to go . . . I just want to stay here with you"
"I don't want you to go either, but . . " She takes and deep breath but doesn't continue, Abby has said everything that she needs. Extending her hands, she holds on to my wrists, keeping me in front of her as if she is almost changing her mind and asking me to stay. But I know she's not. We're drinking each other in before the draught, taking mental pictures to hold onto before I turn around and leave. And I just don't understand why I can't turn back around and make love to her and tell her that I love her and want only her.
But I keep my mouth closed for now; there will be a time when I get to tell her how I really feel, a time when she is willing to accept it. So I walk away from her and away from the glowing lamp light and into the black abyss.
