These Questions
Awaking to the pain in his back, Carter immediately put a hand there to comfort it. His face twisted, wincing at the touch, and pulled away from the blankets surrounding him. "Damn," he muttered against the pillow as his body turned.
The door opened. Abby walked in, her hair pulled up and her casual pajamas hanging from her limbs. She knelt beside his bed and pulled on his shoulder. He jumped, and glanced to his side.
"Hey," he said, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it? What are you doing?" His eyes darted around, searching for the clock on the nightstand. Three-thirty.
She put her wrist to his forehead as he closed his eyes again in painful frustration. "You don't have a fever. You were tossing and making noises. Something wrong?"
"Making noises?"
"Moaning or something," she whispered, hushing him a bit. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing," he said with an attempted smile. He put a hand on the sore spot, and instantly shrank back when he realized the mistake he had made.
"Your back?" she asked nicely, quietly while pushing him to turn away for a minute.
He nodded against the cushion beneath his head. She touched it lightly, almost causing him to shiver. He made sure he didn't commit the movement, afraid to let her know anything. "Right there," he whispered as she touched a tender spot on his lower back.
"Sorry," she said. He shook his head, as she said, "I'm going to get you something for it. I'll be right back." She started toward the door but stopped: "How bad is it? Can you walk?"
He laughed tiredly and pulled the blankets to his chin. "I think so."
She smiled weakly in response and started away, tossing a near silent, "I'll be right back," before she was out of sight. As if on cue, whimpers from the other room filtered through the apartment. The baby began to cry out, screaming for someone as he struggled to get out of the bed.
"I'll get him," Abby called from the kitchen. He sighed thankfully and settled back into bed. He saw her rush across the hallway toward the baby's room, and a second later she walked into the room with him, wrapped in his usual sky blue attire.
Jonathan's eyes immediately peered over at his dead from against Abby's shoulder. His tiny fists hanging from his sides, he gathered them closer to rub his eyes. She smiled at Carter, who started to sit up against the headboard. Abby shook her head, however, so he sank back down.
"Look, Jonathan," she whispered close to his face. "It's Daddy."
Carter smiled as she brought him over. She smiled at Carter briefly as she laid Jonathan down on top of his chest. Carter laughed as the baby struggled to bring his head up, falling shortly at his week attempt. Abby kissed the top of the infant's head and walked out of the room again.
As soon as he had fallen, he tried again to lift his head. This time, he was partially successful. Carter placed a hand against each side, firmly holding him in place. The baby smiled a goofy grin towards his dad. Carter chuckled sleepily and tapped his nose slightly to distract him.
Carter stuck out his tongue at the baby and waited for him to respond. The baby seemed baffled by this and reached out for it. Carter shook his head and lifted the baby up to sit on his chest, rather than lie stomach-down.
The baby yawned and pulled a fist near his mouth. He sucked on his thumb for a while. A classical baby image that began at two months, neither Carter or Abby had seen him do it. Now, when Jonathan had done it without any encouragement from Carter or Abby tonight, he was surprised. A grin grew quickly, and he called outward for her.
"Abby, come here." He kept his eyes focused on the baby. The smile seemed unmanageable.
"What is it?" she asked, coming into the room with the pills in her hand. She gave them to his hand, which put them on the neighboring table along with the glass of water. She came beside the two of them and laughed.
"He's sucking his thumb." He chuckled and rubbed the baby's back.
"Hi, baby," Abby said, rubbing his stomach. The baby looked upward, determined for that thumb not to part from his lips. He stared at the ceiling. "Hi, sweetheart."
He looked back down and pulled the thumb from his mouse. He reached to his side to fall forward slightly on Carter's chest. His parents reached out for him as he recovered and gave them a gummy, but sweet smile.
"He's smiling!" Carter said, almost startling himself with the volume he took. He didn't think about it much as he watched Jonathan continued to grin.
"Oh my God," Abby said. She knelt closer to the bed, just an inch from Carter and the baby. "Hi, honey. You're so funny."
The baby smiled a little more then collapsed onto Carter's chest again. Abby rubbed his back rhythmically and soothed the baby who had already begun to hit Carter's shirt slightly.
Before either of them could prepare him a bottle for his feeding, he was snoring tranquilly against the cloth of his shirt. Abby smiled toward Carter for a long moment. Carter couldn't even comprehend the fact that he was tired, or that his back was hurting, or that there was a sleeping baby between them. Or the fact that he would have cursed himself for falling for her like this. She broke their glance and stood up with hands on her knees.
He watched her, disappointedly, walk over to the side of the bed. She drew the covers back shyly with her head bent, drawing in a deep breath. Carter stared at her, waiting for words he knew she would speak.
"May I?" she asked with a frown now, gesturing to the space next to him. She stood there, curling hair behind her ears, neat strands that weren't in her way at all.
Carter smiled and closed his eyes. He nodded slightly, opening them again and seeing her face much closer than he had imagined. They stared at each other for long enough, before Abby closed her eyes and bent her head downward. Carter watched her finally fall asleep just inches from his arm. Draping his right arm protectively over their son, he reached for the medicine she had provided him and dropped it into his mouth, with a gulp of the cold water. He swallowed completely and turned back to the two people before him.
He softly bent his head downward, as slightly as he could, in a way that left the gap between he and Abby's forehead a mere centimeter's own. Finally falling more, until they touched. Skin against skin. Not enough, but so much. He fell asleep like that, predicting that he'd wake up the same way: with back pain he barely noticed now.
[Part 37]