These Questions
"Are you sure you can handle it?"
Carter laughed as he gently swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I think I can manage a two-month-old." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at her. She nodded.
"Its not that I'm worried about," she said. "I know you can take care of him - I'm nervous about your back." She spoke tenderly, placing a hand on his shoulder. He really wished she wouldn't do that. He felt like they were taunting each other, only now it was more she than he. If he thought about it now, it had been almost a year since it all happened. This entire thing started. The baby, Luka, all of the weird things that had entered his mind.
He nodded, actually shaking his head to himself and relieving it from the wondering. "I'm fine, but thank you." He offered another smile before reaching to take the baby from her. She lifted him from his position against her shoulder. As soon as Jonathan had entered Carter's arms, he fell against his should sleepily and yawned.
"Bye, Jonathan," she said to his little face. He put his head up from Carter's shoulder and threatened to whine. Instead he lifted his arms barely and watched his mother smile at him. "I love you." With this, she added a small kiss on his nose. Jonathan reached out to touch her nose, and then her lips. Abby stood, allowing the baby to do so. She laughed again and kissed his little fingers. Running a thumb over his small head, she looked up to Carter.
"I'll try and drop by at around noon or one, whenever I can get out of there."
"Okay," he said with a tired grin. He lifted the baby already straining against one side of his body. "I'll see you later."
"If he's giving you problems like that, you shouldn't have to carry him."
He laughed again, pulling the door open ahead of her. "I'll see you at noon?"
"Or one," she said, holding her finger up.
"Or one," he smiled.
She looked over once more, biting on her lip. But it was with more confidence than before. He guessed that she trusted him with the baby, but was worried about his back, as she had said. When she had shut the door, he turned toward the baby with his head on Carter's shoulder. He kissed it lightly and gathered the two of them near the television, on the floor in front of the couch. Sighing from the relief of his back being let go, he gently put the baby down on his stomach. He teetered back and forth on his arms and legs, attempting to scoot.
--
His eyes opened at the sound of the lock twitching on the other side of the door. He turned to his side to see Jonathan closely sleeping in the nook of his arm, breathing lightly while bathed in the afternoon sun. Tired, he placed a hand on the baby's back and closed his eyes again.
"Is he sleeping?" she whispered, entering through the door with two large white bags in her hands.
He nodded as much as he could in the state he was in. The pain had intensified somewhat and had gotten to the point where he considered lying down for a nap with the baby here in the middle of the living room floor. He told himself there wasn't anything wrong with it. Clearly, there was not. He kind of liked how it was just he and the baby for a while, even though the floor wasn't the most comfortable spot for someone with back problems.
He opened his eyes suddenly to be faced with white tennis shoes, Abby's shoes. He looked up to see her taking the baby to his room. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, standing and stifling a yawn.
"Don't worry about it," she laughed. When the baby started to stir, sniveling in its sleep, she laid it down and rubbed its left leg. Her hand led him back to the slumber he had fallen to an hour ago and she walked out of the room with him. "How's your back? Did you have a hard time? I can try to get the rest of the day off; I only have three hours left on my shift, so I could get someone else to cover for me."
He chuckled. "Slow down."
She nodded and shrugged, sitting down onto the couch with him.
"How are you?" she asked slowly, her expression changing into something he couldn't understand. Her eyes were creased heavily and her hands knotted together in her lap.
"Good," he said, his face inquiring hers. "You?"
She nodded, and then repeated the action. She yawned and brought her head back up to look at his eyes for a second. Carter didn't know what to do, so he looked down. She got up from the couch and walked to the table without a word. Carter put his face in his hands and inhaled the scent. That baby smell. Milk, lotion or whatnot.
"Here's lunch," she said, sighing. "Burgers and fries. Closest thing to the hospital."
He laughed. "I missed this place."
"Figured so," she said separating the contents into equal shares. She handed him his own meal and seated herself at the table. Carter joined opposite of her and started munching on his burger when his back seized up. He stopped and put down the food, drawing a hand to his back.
"What is it?"
"My back."
She sighed again. "Maybe you should see a doctor, Carter."
"I am a doctor," he laughed tensely, holding his back with a rough, kneading hand. "Damn, this is killing me."
"If I call in," she said, motioning toward the phone on the table, "will you go in? They could just give you something for the pain or whatever."
He shook his head.
"Carter," she said. "You've been like this for three days now. Weaver would rather you just come in. She's kind of without a chief resident."
"Fine," he said, painfully breathing out. "Fine. Let's go."
"Eat your food first."
He smiled and started his meal again. He sporadically followed one hand down to his side and touched the area that bothered him day and night. It felt, sometimes, like a spreading bruise. Other times, it felt like someone was stepping on his bone and literally crushing him.
It didn't take Abby long. He could tell she had been agitated lately anyway, and almost neurotic. Even at work, she wasn't herself. He shrugged it off at first, but he felt he had to ask her. He'd felt this way thought dozens of times. He had felt so much lately besides back pain that he didn't know how to sort it all out properly.
"Are you... okay?" He interrupted her dashing around the kitchen with a garbage bag.
"What?" she asked, astounded. "I'm fine. Are *you* okay? You're the one with the back problems - "
"Abby," he said, calming her unsettled face down. "Just asking. You've been a little..."
She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. "A little what?"
"Jumpy?" he asked, shrugging with arms in the air.
She looked at him with an open mouth. "I'm not jumpy."
"Well," he said, "I know it's not a coffee high."
"Huh?"
"What's wrong, Abby?"
"Nothing," she said, stronger this time. Carter took it as a hint and figuratively backed away from the subject.
"Okay," he said quietly. He balled his wrappers into a tight sphere and tossed them into his own bag, leading to the garbage. "Okay."
She looked guilty immediately and held out her hand. "Don't get up, I'll get that."
"I have it," he said, walking toward the garbage. "I'll go get ready."
Abby mumbled, "Okay." She watched him head back to his bedroom, Carter knew. He looked back at her for a second to see her. She stared back at him and took a step forward, but Carter took his own step, finding himself behind the door of his room.
[Part 38]