A Family Matter
Part Nine
By Martha Mills
martheeny@yahoo.com

Thanks also to Sharon, Debbie, Cathy and Ally for their invaluable feedback, encouragement and support. And to everyone else who sent along a kind message, or enjoyed this story.

Note: This story was somewhat inspired by a movie called "Liar’s Moon." I highly recommend it.

Maybe I could stand alone.
Maybe I’m strong as stone.
- Chris Gaines

Laura Carter stood at the top of the stairs and listened. She heard the familiar sound of father and son arguing. Over what, she didn’t know. She could make out a word here or there. From what she could gather, Roland was trying to manipulate John’s life, again. But then, she heard the name. Carmichael. Oh, god. Not Peggy Carmichael, she hoped. That was a name she hadn’t heard in years. She wracked her brain, trying to think of the name of that baby. The one Roland had fathered. Allie? Annie? Something like that. Had John finally found out about that? She had known for years.

Then she heard shouting from the study. It was John. "YOU ARE STANDING THERE TELLING ME THAT ABBIE IS MY SISTER! THE WOMAN I LOVE IS MY SISTER! THE WOMAN THAT I_"

Abbie! That was the name. Then she realized exactly what John had said, and the meaning behind it. "He must be involved with Roland’s...mistake," she thought. "Oh, no, sweetie. No. She isn’t your-". Her thoughts were interrupted as she saw him storm out the front door. Every impulse in her body was to run to him. Comfort him. Make everything right again for her little boy. But that would involve purging a few secrets of her own. Was this something he would get over in a few days, or did he really care for that...girl?

Laura sighed as she heard him speed off. She told herself, "Let him cool off. Tell him about it tomorrow." She went back down the hall. She would need some rest for what was to come.

John was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. His eyes were stinging, and he needed sleep. Since learning the truth about Roland and Abbie, he had been driving around, aimlessly, because he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t see Abbie. Not right now. Maybe not ever. Even though he could go back to Gamma’s house, she would have returned from her trip today, and he didn’t want to run the risk of seeing her. The last thing he needed was a game of twenty questions. And his friends? Well, most of his friends were also his coworkers. This wasn’t something he needed to become public knowledge around the hospital. So, as he had felt many times before in his life, he was, indeed, utterly alone.

He thought he was all cried out. But at a stop light, when he just happened to look in his rearview mirror, he saw it, in the back seat. A flower from the bouquet he had given Abbie was just laying there. He reached around and picked it up. Holding it up against his face, he could almost hear her laughter, see her smile, feel her skin...and as the enormity of it all hit him for the third or fourth time that night, he rolled down his window and threw the blossom out. The silent tears returned.

He was a mixture of emotions. Grief was predominant. He mourned what he and Abbie could have been. And anger was right up there, too. If only his father had been honest from the start. But John wasn’t sure Roland even knew how to be honest, unless it would save his own skin, somehow. It was the shame John felt that was bothering him the most, though. The shame of sleeping with Abbie. The shame of remembering. The shame of still wanting her, even though...no, he couldn’t let his mind drift in that direction.

Then, he knew. He would deal with this in true Carter fashion. Alcohol. He stopped at a convenience store, and bought two cases of beer. Knowing better than to drink and drive, he decided to check into the Grove Motor Inn, and hide out for a few days. He would just call in sick to work tomorrow.

Settled into his room, and half drunk to boot, images of Abbie swirled around in his mind. He replayed the times they had spent together over and over in his mind. He had never felt so compatible, so at ease with anyone like he was with her. And his stomach sank, as he realized she didn’t know. She didn’t know exactly how he felt about her. Maybe that was a good thing.

She also didn’t know that they shared a father. Yet. And Roland certainly wasn’t going to tell her. It would be up to John to do that. But how could he? He had two choices. One, he could just not call her again, ever. She was only going to be in Chicago for a short time, right? Then she’d return to New York, her life there just as she had left it. But, realistically, he knew that wasn’t an option. That was the coward’s way out. Besides, the thought of never seeing her, or hearing her voice, would be like never breathing again.

John remembered Abbie’s scars, and had a disturbing thought. "What if Abbie was abused because Carmichael knew she wasn’t his child?" He couldn’t hold back any longer. The beer had dulled his pain. Abbie needed to know the truth, so he picked up the phone.

Abbie turned the television off, and glanced at the clock. She had expected John to call her, after he got off from work. But that had been over two hours ago, and she was getting antsy. She moved from the bed over to the chair that John had been in, the night before. It was silly, she knew, but it made her feel a little less lonely.

It was so quiet that she jumped when the phone rang. She answered it in record time, just knowing it was John. "Hello?"

It was Roland. "Ms. Carmichael, I need to talk to John. Is he there?"

"No." Her shoulders slumped. She was starting to worry now. "I was expecting him to call, though, and he hasn’t. Is everything alright? Has something happened?"

She could hear him cursing under his breath. He either didn’t hear her question, or ignored it. "Please have him call me, if you see him. It’s very important." Before Abbie could say anything, the phone went dead.

"Well, that was odd," she thought. She went back to the chair, John’s chair, and eventually fell asleep.

Abbie’s line was busy, so John laid back in the bed. Maybe that was a sign from above? Sleep was creeping up on him. Thankfully. "I have to tell her in person," he thought. "Tomorrow."

Peggy Carmichael was tired. She had been driving for thirteen and a half hours, now, and she knew she needed to rest. Soon. Still, she was glad she had made it all the way to the Illinois/Missouri state line. She was on a mission to find out what exactly was going on in Chicago. "I’m so stupid," she thought. "Trusting Roland to take care of things. And to keep me updated. I can’t believe I actually thought he’d call me back."

She knew that her daughter deserved the truth, even if the doctor she was interested in wasn’t Roland’s son. Oh, there were too many lies. Lies that had been very costly, early on in Abbie’s life. Peggy winced as she remembered the abuse Jesse had inflicted on that helpless child...and on her, as well. She hoped to set all that right, tomorrow.

She found a secluded area, away from the main highway, pulled her car to the side, and fell asleep.

END PART NINE.