Title: These Are the Days
Author: AbbyGirl3476
Rating: R … or M, whatever … who can follow this European ratings system?
Spoilers: Nope. This one is set after 12.11, If Not Now … if you saw that one, we're good.
Summary: A collection of vignettes about the Abby, Luka and baby saga, inspired by actual episodes. I like to think of it as "what we didn't see."
Author's Note: Big thanks to MELANIE for almost going to New York City without a stitch of clothing, just so she could read and comment on this chapter. She said it was good to go, so blame her if it's not. Anyway, thanks to the people who gave me such nice reviews … all FIVE of them. I won't mention names, you know who you are. As for the rest of you … come on now, people, I know you can do better than that. See, the thing is, I only know people are reading this if they review it … so I assume only five people read it. Now, not that I won't keep writing just for the five of you, but still … So if you manage to get to the end of the chapter, and you like what you read, how about letting me know? And hey, feel free to tell your friends to read and review, too. As always, e-mail me or IM on AIM (AbbyGirl3476) if you have questions or comments or just want to chat. Just one caveat, I am spoiler-free and would like to stay that way … thanks.
These Are the Days
"These are the days now that we must savor … and we must enjoy as we can … these are the days that will last forever … you've got to hold them in your heart."
Chapter 2: Strong Enough
It feels like we've been sitting on this bench, hands clasped together, staring at the water without uttering a word, for hours. It reminds me so much of the night I told him I was pregnant. We didn't know what to say then, either. Or rather, we didn't know where to start. The words were slow in coming, but eventually we started talking. And he knew all the right things to say. Or maybe more importantly he knew what not to say. This afternoon he told me he didn't know what else to say; he'd run out of words; he'd run out of ways to try to convince me to keep this baby. And I told him not to say anything. I already knew how he felt. And there wasn't anything he could say at that point that was going to make a difference.
I knew it would come down to answering just one question, a question that only I could answer. Not whether or not I wanted the baby. I wanted it all along. No, the question was whether or not I was strong enough. Strong enough to face my fears, brave enough to take the risk, courageous enough to have this baby. I remember telling a scared patient not too long ago that life doesn't stay the same and that I hoped that when it changed I'd be brave enough to change with it. And here was my chance. I just had to find the courage to take that chance. I'm still not sure where it came from, but it arrived just in the nick of time. And so here I am. Sitting on this bench, watching the peaceful water, holding Luka's hand, still pregnant. And freezing.
"Luka," I say, finally breaking the silence. "I can't feel my face. I'm slowly freezing to death on this bench."
"Well, then, maybe we should think about going home."
"Yeah, let's go home," I agree, turning to look at him, slowly smiling at him … what feels like my first real smile all day. He smiles back. A smile, that for the first time in weeks, for the first time since we've known about this pregnancy, isn't marred by a sadness in his eyes. But there's still something there … an uncertainty maybe.
"What?" I ask, tucking my arm in his, as we start on our way home.
"What what?"
"I just thought you seemed … I don't know. I mean, this is what you wanted, right?" I know that it is, but still, I can't help but worry … what if he's having second thoughts.
"Of course." He's quick to reassure me.
"But?"
"Well … it's what you want … right?"
"I always wanted it. It wasn't about that." I pause for a moment, looking down at the ground before looking up to catch his eye. "Yeah, it's what I want."
"You're sure?" I hear the worry in his voice. Ah … so that's it. I stop walking, keeping my hand on his arm. He turns to look at me. I look him in the eye. Because I want him to know how much I mean this.
"Luka … I'm sure. I'm not gonna change my mind." He opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt him before he can get it out. "And I'm not doing it just for you. It's what I want, too. I meant that. It was never that I didn't want it … I was just scared.
"And you're not scared anymore?"
"Well, I wouldn't go that far. I'm still scared. But I don't have any doubts about wanting to have the baby. Okay? Feel better?" He nods and smiles, and we resume our walk. We're quiet again for a while, apparently not needing any words. But it's a comfortable silence, both of us feeling relieved. Well, I feel a huge sense of relief, anyway. I can only imagine that it's the same for him. We haven't said anything for so long that I'm startled when I hear his voice.
"What made you decide?"
"To keep the baby?" No, Abby, he's wondering how you chose your nail color. I roll my eyes at myself, but he doesn't seem to notice the absurdity of my question.
"Yeah."
I knew that one was coming sooner or later. I just shrug, really not knowing where to begin. He deserves an explanation, and I plan to give him one. But maybe not here, on the street. "Uh … that's sort of a long story. Maybe we should save it for when we get home. Maybe over dinner."
"Dinner?"
"Yeah, I'm thinking Chinese. That place on the corner."
"I guess that could be arranged."
"Good. I'm starving. If we don't get home soon, I'm gonna eat my scarf." Luckily we get home before I have to resort to eating my clothing. I send Luka to the phone to order dinner right away and then scurry into the bathroom. Jeez, what is this? Now that I'm finally fully on board with this pregnancy, are all the symptoms going to descend upon me at once? No, that's stupid … I'm probably just starving and needing to pee desperately because I've totally neglected all my bodily functions today … I had other things on my mind.
"The food will be here in about an hour," Luka tells me when I emerge from the bathroom.
"An hour? I can't wait that long."
"Well, it's not McDonald's, Abby. Plus, there's delivery."
"Delivery? Why didn't you just do take out? It's just down the street."
"You want me to?" He looks slightly worried, like a little boy wondering if he's disappointed his mother.
"No, that's okay, I'll just have a snack," I call to him as I begin rummaging around the cupboard. Hmm, Poptarts. That'll do.
"A Poptart?" He doesn't sound too thrilled.
I shrug. "It's got fruit in it." He rolls his eyes a bit, but doesn't protest any further. And when I sit down on the couch next to him, he reaches out and pulls me over to lean against him. He wraps his arms around me, making it a little difficult to eat my Poptart, but I don't want to complain. I hear and feel the sigh that escapes him as he drops a kiss on the top of my head.
"You wanna talk about it?" He asks eventually.
My turn to sigh. "I knew I had to make a decision," I say slowly, fiddling with the Poptart, finally breaking off a piece, before putting the whole thing down. I look over my shoulder at him. "It was time. I couldn't keep straddling the fence. I know how hard it was on you, and it wasn't any easier on me. I just … I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. I knew there wasn't anything left to talk about. I just had to figure out whether or not I could get past the fear." I trail off and lapse into silence yet again.
"And?" he asks, finally breaking the silence as he nuzzles his cheek against the top of my head.
"And … then I saw Coburn in the ER. And I thought, 'today's the day.' No time like the present, right? I didn't want to wait until I was even further along. Waiting wasn't going to make it any easier. I mean, if I wasn't going to keep it."
"If? I thought you'd made up your mind."
" I did. About 400 times. One minute I'd make up my mind to keep it, and the next I'd decide that I was crazy to even consider it. And it seems like every patient I had today just reminded me of all the things I was scared of. And then I would think to myself that there was no way. No way that I could have the baby. Even knowing how much you wanted it, even though I wanted it, too. I'd try to convince myself that maybe it could work. I kept replaying our conversations, and all the ways you tried to reassure me … but it just didn't help. It just seemed like there was only one sensible choice. Still, I didn't really know what I was going to do when I made the appointment … or even when I left for the appointment. I wanted to tell you that, that I wasn't sure, but I just … I didn't want to give you false hope because I thought that probably I would … but then, I couldn't."
"Why not?" His hand strokes my hair lightly, letting me know that everything's okay. No matter what I say, it's okay.
"I don't know. I sat in that waiting room … and it was full of … families. Kids. Moms and kids. The mom with a fussy baby, the happy expectant couple, the scared teenager … and me. I just kept thinking that I'd be giving up my last chance. And I wasn't sure … I'm not sure, if I'm ready for this, but I didn't like the thought of closing the door on … on motherhood. I didn't like the idea of walking into that room pregnant and walking out … not. I remember all too well what that feels like. Then I started thinking about all the patients that I've had over the years, when I was an OB nurse, and even in the ER, patients that have tried so hard for so long … and all they wanted in the world was a baby. They were willing to go through anything, any pain or anguish necessary, make whatever sacrifices were necessary … just to have a baby. And here, we got one without even trying. How lucky was that?"
That makes him smile. And I smile in return, blinking away the tears that are gathering in the corners of my eyes. "I kept thinking about what you said … that everything happens for a reason. I mean, it happened so quickly."
"Quickly?" He asks, laughter in his voice. Okay, so maybe quickly was an understatement.
"Okay, quicker than quickly."
"More like immediately."
"Right. Immediately. And so … you know, here we are … barely back together, and I'm pregnant already. It happened right away, in spite of the fact that we were careful, in spite of the fact that I'm 37 and probably not exactly at peak fertility. I mean, what are the odds? The odds really should have been against it happening. But it did. So maybe … maybe you're right."
He picks up my hand that he's been holding this whole time and lifts it up to his lips, kissing it gently. "I thought about you, too." I tell him. "I knew how much you wanted us to keep it. And I knew how disappointed you were … and I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to lose you. And I wanted you to have what you want so much. I knew you'd be a great father. But of course it would only work if I was okay with it. And I wasn't sure if I was or not. Until they called my name. And then suddenly I knew I couldn't. I knew I needed to have this baby. It's what you wanted, and it's what I wanted. The only thing standing in the way was the fear. And I couldn't just throw away this … gift, just because I was scared."
"That took a lot of courage," he says, and I can hear the emotion in his voice.
"It wasn't courage," I say, shaking my head gently, even as it rest against his chest. "I'm still terrified."
"Abby, courage isn't about not being scared. It about being scared but going forward anyway. That's brave. You should be proud. I am."
I turn around in his arms, looking in his eyes a moment, before reaching up to kiss him. His head bends to mine, and we share a sweet kiss. The kiss deepens, and it's unlike any that we've shared these past couple of weeks. No strain or tension, just happiness. When we finally pull away, I keep my arms wrapped loosely around his neck, looking at him a long time before I speak again.
"You know this afternoon when you said that I didn't like the way it sounded when you said you wanted us to keep the baby?" He nods with a somewhat puzzled look on his face. "That's not true. I did like the sound of it. More than you know. I just had a hard time imaging that it could work out."
"Abby --" he starts, but I shake my head, interrupting him.
"No, listen. This morning when I was talking to Coburn, and I told her that I didn't know if I was ready … well, she asked me if that meant I didn't want to keep it. And I started crying. Immediately. Right there in the ER hallway. That's what I didn't like the sound of. But us keeping the baby … I hated knowing that you thought that I didn't like the idea. It wasn't that. And it certainly wasn't you. I just didn't - don't - want to be responsible for screwing up some poor innocent child."
"We won't," he reassures me, his voice taking on that please-just-believe-me tone.
"You won't …"
"You won't, either, Abby. You're gonna be a great mom."
"You really think so?" I go for a nonchalant tone, but I think it comes off more needy and vulnerable.
"Abby." His no nonsense voice. He shakes his head at me a little. "Of course. You're a natural."
"You're crazy."
"No, I'm serious."
"Seriously crazy. I don't know the first thing about being a mother."
"That's the beauty of being a natural. You don't have to know." I pull away so I can look at back him and give him a skeptical look. "It just comes … naturally?" He says that like maybe he's talking to someone just a little bit slow. I just keep looking at him. "You really have no idea, do you?"
"Yeah, I told you. I have no idea how to be a mother."
"That's not what I mean, Abby. I meant that you have no idea what a nurturer you are. The way you take care of the patients … your mother, your brother … anyone who crosses your path in need of a little TLC. Of course you're going to be a good mom."
I'm not sure I really believe him, but I do appreciate the effort. "That's all I want." I say with a sigh, settling back into his embrace. He leans toward me, brushing my forehead with his lips.
"You may not be convinced, but I am. I mean, you don't think I'd let just anybody have my baby, do you?"
"Well …" I say in a teasing voice.
"Well, I wouldn't. But I'm letting you." He doesn't hesitate to imitate my teasing tone.
"Ooh, you're letting me. Like it's some sort of privilege."
"It is a privilege."
"Oh right. I forgot, you've got women lined up around the block, just waiting to use you for stud purposes."
"And out of all of them, I chose you."
"Oh, you chose me, huh? And I thought you said you weren't just looking for someone to have a baby with." But I look over my shoulder and grin at him, so that he knows I'm joking. "Of course, if that's all you wanted, you never would have picked me."
"Sure, I would have." His voice is softer, more serious now. "Why wouldn't I? You're smart and funny. And sweet. And … stubborn," he concedes. I turn and give him a look. "But I like that." I narrow my eyes at him. "And beautiful. Did I mention beautiful?"
"Oh, you're so full of shit." I say, back to laughing again.
"Don't say bad words in front of the baby."
"I don't think the baby can hear me yet."
"Well, it doesn't hurt to get in the habit now."
I just give him a look to let him know that I'm not impressed with his suggestion. And then a sobering thought … just about six months from now, that baby that he's "letting" me have will be here. "God, there's so much to do get ready … I don't know how we'll have enough time."
"We have plenty of time, Abby. Just relax. Enjoy it."
Enjoy it? I raise my eyebrows at that idea. But then, I guess maybe he's right about this too. Maybe I should try to enjoy it.
I'm contemplating trying to relax and enjoy myself, but there's something nagging at me that I can't manage to ignore.
"Luka?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course." But he sounds a little worried.
"I was just wondering if you meant what you said earlier."
"About you being a good mom? Yeah, of course I meant it."
"No, I mean, earlier this afternoon. When you found me … sitting on the bench? You thought I … wasn't pregnant anymore. But you still wanted us to be together. Did you really mean that?"
"Yeah, I did."
"But … why?"
"Why?" He asks, confused.
And just then the doorbell rings. "Food's here," he says, sounding a little too excited about that fact.
"Saved by the bell?" I ask as I quickly disentangle myself from Luka so that I can go answer the door.
"Sit down, rest," he urges, gently pushing me back down on the couch. "I'll get it."
"I think I can manage to get to the door without wearing myself out."
"Sit," he says firmly, gently pushing me down on the couch. So I just watch as he goes to the door to retrieve a mountain of Chinese food. He clatters around setting the table, getting all the food set out before I'm allowed up from the couch. And when I get to the table I find a smorgasbord of Chinese cuisine laid out in front of me.
"Think you got enough?" I can't help asking.
"You said you were starving. And you are eating for two," he says, with a cocky grin.
"Two what? Armies?" I ask as I take in the food-covered table. He must have ordered one of everything on the menu.
"So we'll have leftovers. I have a feeling they'll come in handy." I give him a suspicious look, wondering what that's supposed to mean. But I don't spend too long pondering; not when there's food to be eaten. When I load up my plate for the third time, Luka gives me a look that's half amused, half scared.
"What?" I demand, a challenge in my voice.
"Nothing," he says quickly. I don't believe that for a moment.
"You've got something to say?"
"No."
"What? You worried that I'm gonna get fat?"
"No, Abby, of course not." He pauses, considering, I suppose, whether he ought to say what he's thinking. But when he catches sight of me impatiently tapping my fork and sees the look on my face, he must realize that he's not gonna get out of this one. "Okay, I'm not saying that you're eating too much or anything, but I do think it's funny that you were worried about having too much food."
I give him a dark look. "I can't help it," I say, surveying the dent I put in the mountain of take-out. "Other than those Poptarts, this is the first thing I've eaten all day."
"Well, that's not a very good idea." But he pats my hand as he says it. Which may be meant to distract me since he slips my plate away from me while I'm not looking.
"I know," I say, watching him as he clears the table. "But I had other things on my mind."
"Yeah, I know." There's something in his voice that reminds me of just how well he does know.
"I'm sorry," I say, looking down at my hands, fiddling around with a set of chopsticks that I didn't even bother to try to eat with at this meal.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," he tells me, smiling over his shoulder at me.
"I feel like there is. After all you've been through … and now I've put you through all this. I know how hard it was on you. And I just feel bad that you had to … suffer through it. All that agony for nothing."
"It wasn't for nothing, Abby."
"No, I know. I just mean that I wish I hadn't put you through two weeks of torture. I wish I could have felt this way right away."
"And how's that?"
"Like … I can't imagine not having this baby. Like I can't imagine not being pregnant. Like I don't even want to think about what it would have been like to come home tonight … not pregnant anymore. Like I'm sure this is the right thing. If only I'd figured it out sooner …"
"Hey, it's okay. You needed those couple of weeks to figure things out … to be sure. I'm just glad it turned out the way it did. We're keeping it. That's all that matters now. And it's worth a couple of weeks of agonizing. I'd go through it all over again to end up here … with you … and the baby."
He smiles and turns back to the dishes. And I stand up and quietly cross through the kitchen to stand behind him. I slip my arms around his waist and lean into him, resting my cheek against his back.
"Thank you," I say, squeezing him a little tighter.
"For doing the dishes?" He asks, his tone playful. But he shuts off the water, and then turns around in my embrace.
"For being the strong one. I wouldn't have gotten to this point if it hadn't been for you."
"And here I thought …"
"That you hadn't gotten through to me? That's not true. You did. It just …"
"Wasn't enough?"
"No. I guess I just needed … I don't know. The right perspective, maybe."
"Perspective?"
"You asked me earlier what made me decide. And I don't really know. I mean, it was I what I really wanted all along. So maybe it was just a case of following my heart. Not to mention conquering my fears. But I think that to get there, I had to look at things a little differently. This morning I kept thinking that it wouldn't be right … keeping it. There just seemed so many reasons not to keep it. But then, this afternoon, something happened. It stopped being an unplanned pregnancy and became a baby. I'd tried very hard not to think of it that way. But there it was. As I sat in that waiting room, I wasn't there to maybe terminate an unplanned pregnancy; I was there to decide the fate of a baby. My baby. And even though I thought that maybe not having it would be better than having it and screwing it up, suddenly, I found myself thinking about what the baby might want. Everything struggles to live, right? Survival is, like, the most basic human instinct. And God knows, my parents managed to royally screw up my childhood, and I've been miserable more times than I care to remember, but I never wished that I'd never been born. So that's what I was thinking about when they called my name. And I knew I couldn't do it."
"Well, I'm awfully glad that you couldn't."
"I knew you would be. And I am too."
His head bends toward mine, and I look up into his eyes briefly before our lips meet and my eyes flutter closed as I melt into the kiss.
When we pull away, he looks at me for a moment, his eyes dark and serious. "You still want to know why?" He asks me. "This is why."
"Because you like kissing me?" I'm not quite sure what we're talking about, so that seems as good a place to start as any.
He chuckles at that. "No. Well, it doesn't hurt. But that's not what I'm talking about."
"What are we talking about?"
"Don't you remember? You wanted to know why I would have wanted to be with you … even if you had decided that you … couldn't have this baby."
"Oh, right." I slip out of his embrace, and turn to walk away, but he catches me by the hand.
"Hey. I would want to be with you no matter what because … this is good. We laugh together. Cry together. We can talk to each other. Really talk. Even these past few weeks that have been so tough, we never lost that. And if we can get through something like this, we can get through anything."
"But you want this so much. And if I'd taken that away from you…"
"It wouldn't have changed anything. I would have been sad. But I know you would have been too. And we would have gotten through it together."
"But …"
"No buts. I know how lucky I am to have you. And I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice. I'm not letting go of you." He pulls me close to him, and wraps his arms around me again.
"Well, you're kinda stuck with me now."
"Lucky me, huh?" He asks, giving me a smile.
"No, I think I'm the lucky one. Like I told you, I never would have gotten this far without you. I never would have had the strength."
He puts his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him. "Of course, you would have, Abby. I told you, being a parent makes you stronger. And it's started already. You didn't need my strength. You just needed to find your own. And you did. And see? You were strong enough all along."
And with that I kiss him. A kiss to celebrate us, our baby, and the future we're going to share together.