I arrive home five minutes after nine. That leaves me about ten minutes to change, and take a shower as if I had been home for over an hour. I hurry in the bathroom and step in the shower. I wash myself as fast and as thoroughly as I can, trying to get rid of any smell of sex or Abby. When I'm done, I put a towel around my waist and go to the bedroom. In less than a minute, I'm all dressed. As I ruffle my wet hair in another towel, trying to dry it a little, I hear the apartment door open and close. Susan's home. She smiles when she sees me.

"Hey you. Did you have dinner yet?"

I shake my head and watch Susan closely. Despite her smile and good mood, she looks extremely tired. There are dark circles under her eyes and her wrinkles seem more pronounced than usual. I really should try to take better care of her.

"Good. I was thinking we could have hot dogs. We never eat those and Chicago has some of the best in the world!" She tells me.

"Bad luck," I tell her. "I just ate some for lunch."

She looks at me, surprised. "You did?"

I hold up my index and middle fingers. "Two actually. It's funny that you had the idea for hot dogs the same day I ate some." I chuckle. It's true that we never eat hot dogs. Or any fast food for that matter, except pizza. And today of all days, I eat hot dogs for lunch and then Susan comes home and wants to have some for dinner. Heh. What are the odds?

Susan's making a face that oddly looks like a pout and something else I can't quite put my finger on. All that for hot dogs? "Hey," I try to get her attention. She focuses on me. "How about I treat you to some hamburgers and fries?"

She shakes her head. "No, let's just eat some leftovers. I don't feel like fast food anymore."

"Alright." I try to smile but it's not working very well. Something's off with Susan. What's with the hot dogs? Why did she make that face when I told her I had some for lunch? Sometimes I just don't get her.

~o~

"Hey," I greet Luka when I walk in. He's sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"Hey Abby."

I put my purse on the table next to the door and walk toward him. "You watching some of your Martha Stewart tapes?" I tease him.

He grins. "Nah, just some basketball game. Alias started twenty minutes ago if want to watch it." He hands me the remote.

I sit down next to him and he puts his arms around me. "No, I'll watch some basketball with you."

We watch the game for a while. I try to concentrate on the game, but my mind keeps wandering to Carter and what happened today. I wish I could cry. I wish I could go to bed and cry to my heart's content. And I have to remind myself that this is the thing to do. There is no other way. If I try hard enough, I can be happy. Happiness is a choice. I choose to be happy with my husband and daughter.

"You smell weird," Luka comments.

Oh no.

I can't be smelling like sex. Can he smell Carter on me? Can he? Oh God, please no.

"It smells like greasy meat. Did you eat a burger or something like that?"

Thank God.

"Um, I had a hot dog earlier."

Luka nods and rubs my arm affectionately. "Ah, that's it. I guess you'll have to take a shower then."

I frown. He means something by this, but I just don't get it. "I guess I will," I answer dully.

"Want some help?"

I look up at him and see a twinkle in his eyes. Ah, that's what he meant by it. It feels odd. I just had sex with Carter and now I'm about to have sex with Luka. Could I be more of a whore? I wish I could get out of it, but I can't. We haven't had sex for a while and he'll become suspicious if I refuse now. I force a smile. "I wouldn't mind."

He leans down and kisses me. I can hear him moaning my name against my lips.

And I think of Carter.

~o~

August 20, 2002

"John, we don't have to buy everything in the store. She has clothes of her own, you know. And she's nine years old. I bet she has her very own particular taste also."

Susan and I are in the middle of a Gap store, hands full of various feminine clothing.

I shrug. I just want to get involved more. Plus, these clothes are really cute. "This is GAP, Susan. Every kid wants to have these clothes."

Susan smiles and I know I've won. "Being a parent is more than buying clothes you know."

"I know." Sometimes I really feel that Susan is older than me and I think she wants me to feel it. Why is it that I feel no difference about our age difference when it comes to Abby? I guess we're just too connected.

"You won't have time to be at Gamma's all the time anymore. I hope you realize that." Her tone has changed. Her facial expression also. It reminds me of the face she had when we talked about hot dogs a few days ago, which confuses me even more. How do Gamma, Suzie, and hot dogs connect?

"I know. Gamma's getting better anyway." I shrug. I really don't get her.

"You'll have to be at home more." She goes on.

I sigh. It's true that I haven't been there much. I was with Abby all the time. Well now that Abby's out of my life, I can be more present. "I realize that Susan. Don't worry."

"Suzie's a great girl. I want to give her the best."

"Then we'll give her the best." I put the clothes on the counter. The cashier starts to scan them. "We'll start with the clothes."

Susan puts the clothes she was holding next to the others. "The best doesn't necessarily mean material things."

"That will be $223.56" The cashier tells me.

"John!" Susan exclaims when she hears the amount.

"Relax. It's nothing." I hand a credit card to the cashier.

Susan doesn't look happy but I bet she'll change her mind once she sees a happy Suzie. She's so much like Abby when it comes to children. Both of them would do anything for their progenitor.

This is wrong. I can't stop thinking about Abby. Everything reminds me of her. When I'm working I think about her, when I'm with Susan I think about her, and even when I went to see Gamma, for real this time, I thought about her. She's always on my mind. Always there. A constant presence. And now we've got Suzie coming and I need to be dedicated to this marriage. For a child. I must. There's no turning back.

~o~

August 21, 2002

I laugh out loud when I look up and see Luka's face.

"What?" He asks me, completely clueless.

"You've got whipped cream on your face." To say the least. There's whipped cream all over. It's like no one has ever taught this man how to eat. There's even whipped cream on his shirt. He wipes some with his hand.

Both Luka and I have late shifts this morning so I decided to make waffles. It's all part of my "How to be the best wife" contract. Of course he has no idea about that contract.

"Is it okay now?" he asks me.

I shake my head, amused. It's like he didn't do anything. "You better go clean up in the bathroom while I wash the dishes."

He nods and goes to the bathroom. I keep an eye on Magda, who is sitting in her high chair, as I wash the dishes. She's playing with one of my hair bands, completely fascinated by the object. She's a wonderful thing, my baby. It seems difficult to imagine a world without her.

"I'm glad you're smiling more," Luka tells me when he walks in the kitchen.

I turn around and smile even more. "Thank you."

He frowns. What's going on now? "Too bad your smile doesn't reach your eyes." He looks at the ground. "You know, you don't have to pretend with me Abby. You can pretend with whomever you want, but with me you don't have to. I've known you too long. It's easy for me to se [see] if you're really happy or if you aren't."

Damn stupid eyes. I could never be an actress. But still, I take the usual approach. Denial. "I don't know what you're talking about Luka. I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be?" I point out to Magda. "I have a wonderful daughter." Then I walk to him and hug him. "And I have a wonderful husband. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

He shakes his head and kisses the top of my head. "I don't know. I sincerely don't know."

Try John Truman Carter, III for the kicks of it. That might answer your question.

~o~

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