Reconcilable Differences
part 34
by Mrs. Eyre
She looked to him as though she’d been crying, her eyes a little pink. Her hair was a dreadful mess. How tiny she was! He’d hugged her warmly, loving the feel of her in his arms, invoking every injunction to action issued by his father, Damir, Tatijana. They had all, in their way, said “Do something”. The sight of her here strengthened his resolve., and he’d smiled down at her, seeing her own tentative smile in return. He wondered if this might work.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Welcome back”. Abby was relieved to find that her voice still worked. He frowned a little then.
“Have – have you been crying?”
”My eyes. No, it was the rain.” She wasn’t about to tell him she’d put on mascara for the first time in weeks in order to meet him.
”What?”
“I had to - never mind. Well, you brought some nice weather back with you.”
”I’d think you might be glad of it from what you said on the ‘phone. Zagreb was whipping up a very fine thunderstorm when I left.” His accent was a great deal more pronounced than when she’d seen him last.
“Impressive?”
”Wagnerian.”
“How’s your dad?”
”Same as ever” he laughed.
“You see your brother?”
”I saw them all” he said, more quietly. Not here, Abby, not now.
“Seems to have done you good.”
”Yeah, I think maybe it has. Would you like to get some coffee before we go?”
”Probably not a good plan.”
”Why not?”
”You do not want to see me in caffeine overdrive. I’ve drunk enough coffee this morning to float a battle ship.”
”You and caffeine overdrive might be fun. You having trouble staying awake?”
”I got pulled in to cover the night shift.”
”You should be at home sleeping!” he protested.
“I said I’d be here.”
”Abby, you could have – “
”Stood you up? That’s what you think of my manners?”
“No, but – “
”I’m OK.” Luka seemed doubtful and she sighed. “We should go” she added. “The queue for cabs was crazy when I got here.”
As they stood in line for a cab Abby stole a surreptitious glance at him. He didn’t even look tired. Relaxed, tanned, taller than she remembered. She felt impossibly shy of him. There had been nothing guarded in the way he had greeted her, hugged her, smiled down at her. He was glad to see her. She wondered if this might work.
“You got a tan” she said.
“You didn’t.”
”Well, no, I haven’t been bumming around at the seaside for a month.”
“It was nice, the seaside. You get my postcard?”
”Nope.”
”I sent one.”
”Sure you did.”
I did! From Vodice.”
“Probably get here around Christmas. How many in front of us now?”
“I don’t know. Six maybe.”
“What do you want to do?”
”When?”
”Now.”
“I could use a shower and a shave and then I need something to eat.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“What?”
”I meant – I meant to return the favour.”
“What favour?”
”The groceries.”
”Oh, no, no, there’s no need –“
”There is. I did think about it, really. Look, when we – you – get home I’ll go to the store and then I can make lunch at your place.”
”It’s not necessary.”
”Luka, please. Humour me.”
“I’m too tired to argue.”
”You don’t look it.”
“A tan can hide a multitude of sins.”
”You should probably try and stay awake until tonight.”
“Well, if I have some company I might just manage it. If you keep talking.”
“You may regret that.”
“Bread, milk, fruit, cheese, olives, coffee, bread, milk, fruit, cheese, olives, coffee.” She repeated her list like a mantra as she moved through the grocery store. “Beer.” Beer? Why not. Tell yourself it’s Coke you’re buying … and get some Coke.
The rain had let up just as they arrived at Luka’s place and she very much wanted to make it back there before the heavens opened again. She would fix lunch, leave him to unpack, ask to see him the following night. “We need to talk”. No. “I need to talk to you.” No again. “I’d like to talk to you.” Yes, that was better, that would do. And damn, here came the rain.
The apartment seemed ridiculously big. He opened all the windows and headed upstairs to the bathroom. Shower, shave, clean teeth, clean clothes, home again. Downstairs he glanced through his mail, throwing most of it away. The rain was beginning to clatter against the windows and as he pulled them closed she made her entrance, a little breathless, laughing that she’d made it just in time. He took the groceries from her, thinking that after lunch he’d ask if he could see her the following night, ask if she could spare him some time to talk to her. Or perhaps he would wait. He was glad his father couldn’t see him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey! Stay awake!” Abby extended a foot and tapped it against his.
“I am awake” he said, but his eyes remained closed.
“I’ll make coffee.”
“I’ll do it. Don’t worry, I’ll make it weak.” He hauled himself to his feet with what seemed like an enormous effort. “You working tonight?”
”Tomorrow, seven to seven. And I’ll take the coffee muddy.”
”Really? Since when?”
”I dunno, just sort of developed a taste for it.”
“The age of miracles is not passed.”
“Yeah, well, it’s amazing what you can get used to.” She watched as he made the coffee, listening to the rain on the windows. She remembered being glad for her bed when she was a little girl and the rain would come down.
“When I was little I used to love to hear the rain at night when I was safe in bed.” Luka said, as though reading her thoughts.
“Me too. I guess it’s universal.”
”Actually, I still like it.”
“Well, now I think of the homeless guys sleeping in dumpsters. What?”
“I’ll never be able to listen to the rain at night again.” He handed her her coffee.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
They sat in silence for a moment before she asked “So, how was it?”
“How was what?” She raised her eyebrows in a look that told him he couldn’t get away with playing dumb.
“It was - - - therapeutic.” Abby waited for more. He glanced at her and away. Still she waited.
“There’s something I want to say to you.”
“Oh?”
”You - - - came to me before you went into rehab and you said you were sorry. I need to say that to you now.”
Oh God.
“You’re sorry. For what?”
“For before.”
”Before? Before when?”
“ When we were together. I - - - shouldn’t have been with you - - - with anyone. I wasn’t - - - fit.”
“Luka – “
“No, let me talk. This time let me talk.” Abby nodded.
“I think I was never really here, you know? And I should have sent you away, but - - - the thing is, I want you to know that I tried. I did. But I think I’d forgotten how to be anything but - - - alone. Is this making sense?”
“I think so.”
“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t want to be with you, be there for you. But I wasn’t even there for me. And after that night - - -“
”I know.”
“I wanted you to stay. And go. I should have sent you away.”
”You tried.”
“Not hard enough. I knew it was wrong. I was – poison. I should have put a stop to it. And I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
”I already did.” He didn’t reply and Abby felt ready to scream.
“And Vukovar?” she asked quietly. She expected him to hesitate, falter. He didn’t.
“Vukovar was sad. But they weren’t there. A neat grave, a headstone, bones. They weren’t there. But I was. I am, here. And it’s OK, you know? I can’t carry their corpses around with me. What they were – are – I still have. I don’t have to think of what might have been. What was is good enough, and I should be thankful for it. It’s pretty simple in the end.”
“It sounds it when you put it like that.”
“Well,” he continued “the thing is, corpses are heavy., and it wears you out. And they stink., death stinks.”
“I kind of had the same thought about myself. I thought about my drinking, my needing other people to put things right for me like being chained to an idiot. I got rid of the idiot.”
”And how is it?”
”Lonely, actually.”
“Yes. I know.”
“The thing is Luka, I’d – I’d like to have some time to talk to you about what’s been going on with me. Not now, not today, you need to sleep. So do I if it comes to that.”
“About what’s been going on with you?”
“Stuff. I’ve been a busy girl this last year and there are some things I’m thinking differently about. I’d like to know - - - what you think.”
“You aren’t planning on leaving Chicago, are you?”
“God, no.” It was a lie. She had thought about it, and lately she’d thought about it more. There was something she needed to know first; felt encouraged by the alarm in his voice. “I’d just like to talk to you.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Sure. Come over to my place about eight. I’ll cook.”
“Again?”
“This wasn’t cooking.”
”OK.”
“You look beat. I should go.”
”I don’t think I’m going to make it through ‘til tonight.”
”Well, give in gracefully. I’m going to try and get some sleep to make up for last night. Feeling guilty yet?”
They stood at the door, a little awkward. “It’s good to have you back.”
“Good to be back.”
“You might want to wait until you’ve eaten dinner tomorrow before saying that.”
“No. It’s good to be back.”