Disclaimer: None of the ER characters belong to me.

Author's notes: God, I can't wait to finish this story. Previous installments,
including this part, can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/luka_abby



24 Steps: Part 15


"... It's 9:25. As for the weather, it looks like we're finally getting a little
bit of sunshine after those April showers. If you live near the city, you might
wanna leave you car at home and enjoy..."


"... It's 10:25, and you're listening to WEBZ 91.5, Chicago, and coming up in
five minutes is the Jazz hour..."


"... If you've just tuned in, it's 11:41, and you're listening to WEBZ. And the
next five callers will win tickets for the Van Gough art exhibit down in the
museum. That's the first five callers..."


"... Coming back from lunch, it's 1:24, and you're listening to WEBZ..."


Abby hit the snooze button one last time and remained still on her bed. Her body
felt heavy, and her mind scrambled. She knew she should be up doing something,
but that something, whatever it was, felt too unappealing. She debated on
whether letting the alarm wake her up on the next round, or at least getting out
of bed to watch some television.

She turned on her back, staring at the ceiling. Is this how Maggie feels when
her depressions are starting? But this wasn't a depression, it was another knock
out after finally being able to stand on her own. She had been so sure that she
could make it back to work, ignore this recovery and continue living alongside
her estranged life. She wasn't so sure she could make it anymore. It felt as if
someone had taken her confidence and self esteem and had made them into little
pieces before throwing them away. She couldn't even remember what an IV was
anymore.

So why should a person feeling like this get out of bed at all? For what? If she
couldn't even control her emotions, what good would it do to try and function
into the real world again? And the worst part was that she had dragged Luka into
this. He had meant to help her and now her stupid mistakes had hurt them both.
She wondered if she could ever make it okay between them again. She knew he was
right, from the moment he said she wasn't ready. It was the reason as to why she
wanted to break up with him from the start. Luka didn't know anything about
living with an alcoholic. She knew his intentions were good, because well, he
was stuck with her. But he didn't know, had no idea, what it's like living with
someone like her.

Maybe that was the reason as to why this had gotten so out of control. In her
desperate attempt to prove him just how hard it was, to prove to him that he
could never understand what she was going through... everything exploded into a
big mess. And even after this mess, he remained ignorant about alcoholism, and
it all went back to her, it always backfired in her face.

Sitting on her bed, she looked around her room. The radio was right, it was a
glorious day outside. She peeked her head out the window to see kids coming back
from school, playing baseball on the streets and running to tag each other.
Mothers gossiped as they pushed their strollers, and men in sweat pants jogged
along with their dogs. In a park away from her building, there were towels
spread around as people used the opportunity to get a new tan for the upcoming
summer. It was like watching a movie set in a giant screen in front of her
window.

Inside, her apartment scared her. There was an eerie silence she couldn't stand
to listen. Nothing was moving, and despite the sun shining through the windows,
it seemed too dark. Somewhere inside she felt like going for a walk. Maybe
having to think about which leg to move first, or trying to avoid the cracks of
the side walk, would distract her and make this day a little less excruciating,
but that seemed like a wish she wouldn't get.

Looking inside the garbage can, she could still see the remaining of the bottle
of Vodka Carter had brought the day before. It was a good thing he chose that
particular drink, because she was sure she wouldn't be able to endure the smell
of any other liquid in her apartment without getting those urges again.

Sitting on her couch, she picked up the phone and as she looked through the
pages of her phonebook, her mind began to unscramble and all of a sudden she
felt like running away, but remained still.

She waited, and waited some more. Her fingers began to tremble, but she held
them down steadily with her thumb, forming a fist; she reached for her
cigarettes. Glancing at the television, her eyes closed instantly at the view,
her reflection looked like the bottom of a garbage can.

"Hello?"

Abby bit on her lower lip tight, and stood up to pace around. After lighting her
cigarette and letting out the first puff, she asked, "Renee?"

"Who is this?" Renee asked.

"Um, it's Abby? Abby Lockhart?" she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Abby!" Renee laughed, glad to hear from her friend. "It's nice to hear from
you. How are you doing?"

Abby held on to the phone so strong, that she could her the plastic crack on her
palm. "Not so good," she let out in a whisper, bringing her cigarette back to
her mouth.

Renee remained quiet for a moment, waiting for Abby to say something else, but
the silence continued until she spoke again. "What happened, sweetie?"

Abby let out a sigh, dropping her heavy body on the couch again. "I blew it
again."

~*~

Luka stared out the window at Doc Magoos' as he clutched the newspaper in his
hands and a waitress came over to refill his coffee. He looked up at her, gave
her a polite smile, and took a sip of the drink. He resumed his watch, glancing
towards the bay as an ambulance pulled up and Cleo ran outside along with Yosh,
both attending to a patient he couldn't see well.

He decided to go back to the newspaper. Not to many listings or request for ER
doctors on the classifieds. Not that he was thinking of quitting, but you always
have to keep your eyes open, be ready to grab that second chance by the tail.
There was a big demand for nurses, and he was sure that if Abby saw this, she
would quit in a second.

Suddenly he couldn't even concentrate on the newspaper anymore. Kerry wanted to
see him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to see her. She probably wanted him to get
back to work as fast as he could, ignoring his feelings about the subject. It
never failed with Weaver, she never surprised anyone, at least not him. As he
stood there, he felt a strong urge to go home, screw her, teach her a lesson; he
wasn't her slave. If he lost his job, well, County wasn't the only hospital in
Chicago.

"Dr. Kovac?" Jing Mei asked as she walked over hesitantly, holding a cup of
coffee in her hand.

Luka smiled faintly as he looked up, praying she was there to say hello and then
leave. "Dr. Chen," he said politely.

"I didn't see you at the hospital today, I was wondering if you were sick," she
said as she leaned against the other side of his booth.

Good, she hadn't heard. He shifted on his seat, gathering the scattered sections
of his newspaper. "I asked for the day off."

"Oh," Jing Mei nodded, wondering why he had asked for the day off, if he was
only going to use it to sit in a booth at Doc Magoos. "How's Abby? I heard she
was back," she asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

Luka looked up, and then stood up. "I don't know, why don't you call her?"

Jing Mei realized that sounded wrong, so she let her head drop a bit. "Oh, I'm
sorry, I didn't know," she said, apologizing for the break up.

"It's not your fault," Luka said as he dropped a five dollar bill on the table.
He gave her one last forced smile. "Excuse me, I have to go."

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow," Jing Mei said, regretting her decision to say
hello.

"Bye," Luka mumbled before he walked out.

~*~

Go to a meeting, find a sponsor, take it easy, one step at a time, it's going to
be okay, call me back. The phrases danced around Abby's head as she walked along
the streets of her neighborhood. Everything looked different somehow, like the
walls of her building, which she still believed had been painted. She had been
living in this neighborhood for years and she never really stopped to meet her
neighbors. There was an old lady in front of a townhouse, sweeping the leaves
off the side walk. There were two men in the townhouse next to that one,
standing very close and whispering suggestively into each other's ears. They
looked like they were in love, and it made her smile. She jumped as she walked
past a fence and a dog jumped at her, barking wildly.

"Spike! Get back here!" a man with a beer in his hands called on the dog, and
waved at Abby, reassuring her it was okay.

Abby smiled weakly and continued on her walk. If she walked a little faster,
maybe she would make it to the meeting. Renee had given her a list of support
groups near her, not knowing Abby already knew them by heart. One of them met at
4:30, not so far from where she lived. Somewhere inside she knew she should have
gone to her group, to the people she already knew. Not this time. She had hit
rock bottom after five years of glory, of sharing her successful life, of
sponsoring, of giving out advice. She actually got to host a meeting once, and
as she recalled, it was one of the best feelings she had ever experienced. She
didn't need to see the look on their faces now. When you suddenly become
failure, you don't wanna be where everybody knows your name.

Why do people insist on painting their doors green? She pushed it slightly, and
peeked her head into the partially full room. There were a couple of people
talking to each other, and the rest were either wishing they could be a part of
the conversation or wishing they were somewhere else. She poured herself a cup
of coffee as she stared towards the podium. Putting in two packs of sugar, she
stirred the drink and chose a chair on the very back. A couple of people turned
towards her, all giving her a smile, and she smiled back. It was her
drunk-radar. She could spot a drunk five miles away. She considered if a gift.
There are no rules. It's not like black people spotting black people. It wasn't
physical, or emotional... it was something in the eyes. She could probably tell
which were the success stories, and which were here to announce yet another
relapse.

As she glanced at her watch she heard as a door opened, and a man walked inside.
He put a couple of folders on the podium, and walked over to shake another man's
hand. They began to talk but Abby couldn't hear about what. This was her chance,
her opportunity to reach for the door and at least get a free cup of coffee of
the evening. But her butt was glued to her seat.

The speaker waved at a couple more people, and then stood behind the podium.
Whatever happened to sitting in a circle?

"Hi guys," he said as he looked down at his papers, and scratched his neck. "My
name is Nigel, and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Nigel," the room sang.

"Uh, I see a couple of new faces around," he said, and everybody looked at Abby.
She looked away, knowing she was the only new face.

"If any of you wants some information, or has any questions, you can see me
after the meeting," he said, and flipped around a couple of papers. After
setting out the facts and missions of Alcoholics Anonymous, he let out a sigh,
indicating they'd be getting into business. "Okay. Congratulations on keeping
our 4:30 spot, we got the room for one more year..."

At this, everyone began to applaud. Abby was already regretting coming here.

"Um, so let's just get back to business," he said, looking around. "Anybody has
anything to share today?"

A woman sitting two rows in front of Abby raised her hand, and Nigel invited her
over.

She stood up shyly and walked over. When she lowered her head to talk into the
microphone, her voice made the speakers screech. "Oops," she chuckled. "Hi, my
name is Maria, and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Maria."

Abby kept watching as the woman began to talk about running to alcohol when her
parents died in a car accident. Her sister was years older than her, and Maria
had to go live with her and her new husband. Abby began to drift, not really
listening to the fights Maria and her sister used to have, about how one time
she came home late, her sister was working late and her own brother-in-law raped
her. About running away after the incident, and discovering she was pregnant.
About nights of black outs, and learning that drinking during her pregnancy had
killed her child, a child she never wanted to begin with.

Abby couldn't listen to any of this. Her mind kept thinking about the events of
the previous two days. Coming home, to her apartment, to Luka and Carter, and to
chaos. This really wasn't the way she had pictured her when Luka drove away from
rehab. She had expected a lot of support and smoldering, not World War III.

As Abby had suspected, Maria ended in a positive note. "... This morning I woke
up, and I looked back to those days, and I realized... wow, I have come a long
way," she chuckled. "I was a feeling I just, I really can't explain it at all. I
have a life. I have... a glorious boyfriend, I have a job... I love myself.
And... I know the road was hard, and I know there were moments when I wanted to
forget about everyone and everything and just start drinking again. I, um, I
really don't know what kept me going. I had no one. And for the first time in
twenty years I realized that all this time, I've been fighting for myself, for
my own life. The fight was hard, but it was worth it."

Everyone immediately began to applaud as Maria went back to her chair, and held
some hands as she smiled brightly.

Abby only slapped her hands once, and sipped her coffee. Just what she wanted,
someone she was months ago. This woman had taken her story and turned her into
hers. In return, Abby had taken on the story of that man who was sitting on a
corner, obviously not doing well at all. Months ago she was sharing her success
story, now she was back on step two. Quite frankly, there was no higher Power
strong enough to fix this mess.

~*~

Luka walked into the ER and it seemed that everyone stopped just to look at him.
It was probably his own paranoia, but it made him very uncomfortable. As he held
his jacket in one arm, he walked towards the front desk.

"Is Kerry around, Frank?" Luka asked, tapping on the counter of the front desk.

"She's waiting in the conference room," Frank said, looking at Luka from head to
toes over his glasses.

Without a reply, Luka began to walk towards the stairs. He smiled as he walked
along and the nurses waved at him. None of the doctors were around, maybe he
could make it to the stairs without being questioned.

"Hey, Luka."

Or not.

Luka glanced at Carter and smiled. Actually, Carter was okay. "Hey," he replied.


"Meeting Weaver?" Carter asked, putting his hands inside his pockets.

"Yeah," Luka said.

Carter wanted to continue talking, ask him if he was okay or what he had been up
to, but he didn't now how. He knew Luka's face was begging him to mind his own
business, so Carter left him be. "Good luck."

Luka looked at Carter as he pressed the elevator button, "Thanks." He smiled,
and watched as the doctor walked away.

When he stepped out of the elevator, his heart actually began to beat faster.
Why? He didn't know. He hated confrontation, but somehow always seemed to get
into it anyway. It was still hard for him to control his impulses and emotions
after ten years of failed attempts. It was almost as if a second personality was
taking over his body, doing things he could never do himself. Every time he felt
that anger burning his heart, it was inevitable. He was an active volcano.

He opened the door to the small room and found Mark and Kerry sitting alongside
each other. What the hell is Mark doing here? He acknowledged them both by
raising his head slightly, but not with a smile.

"Hi, Luka," Mark said, holding a chart.

"Sit down," Kerry said, indicating the chair in front of them.

Luka didn't say thanks, but sat on the chair she pointed at. They both had a
glass of water next to them, but he just sat back. "What am I being punished
for?" he asked rather coldly.

Kerry let out a sigh, resting her chin on her hands. "Nothing, we're just here
to talk."

"Talk about what?" Luka asked.

"I think we know what," Mark said and looked at Luka with an obvious expression
on his face.

"Right," Luka said, looking to his side. "I'm not going to apologize for
anything. If you want me to, I can find another job."

"Don't be so melodramatic, Luka," Kerry said as she shifted on her seat. "We
called you here because we wanted to say, yes, you were right, you should have
been left out of this from the start."

Luka sat forward. "Sorry doesn't change anything."

"Of course it doesn't," Mark said. "What's done is done, so we all have to deal
with it."

"So, everyone down there makes mistakes and they get fired or expelled, but when
you do, we have to deal with it?" Luka asked cynically.

"Of course not. However, I don't think that what I did was reason enough to fire
me. If you do, then take it with the board," Kerry said. "We're here because
we're professionals and adults and when something happens, an adult sits down to
try and fix it."

"There's nothing to fix in the ER, Kerry. Abby's not coming back, that was why I
was called in," Luka said.

"You're right again," Kerry said.

"And if you're talking about my personal life, that's my personal life. Did you
ruin it? Yes. Abby and I are not together anymore. Can we fix that by having a
meeting? No," Luka said. He could feel the anger rising, but this time tried to
keep it cool.

"Sorry to hear that," Kerry said. "And I take full responsibility for it. But I
want you to understand that what I did was for..."

"For the best interest of the hospital," Luka finished her phrase.

Kerry stared at him for a moment and then at Mark, who was staring at Luka
blankly. She decided to ignore the comment and continued. "You can come back to
work tomorrow. You still have your own schedule, take the rest of the day off."

As she gathered her papers, she stood up. "I already said I was sorry, and I
meant it. I'm sorry about you and Abby, but I hope we can put this past us."

Without saying anything else, Kerry walked out. Mark picked up his work, looking
at Luka. "Look, I don't agree with Kerry, or what she did. But unfortunately
she's the boss and we have to suck it up." As he walked towards the door, he
gave Luka a couple of pats on the back. "If you need anything, let me know."

Luka murmured a, "Thanks," and remained seated on the chair. Well, this was more
than he was expecting, but the situation remained bad. No matter how much Kerry
apologized, the damage was done. Just like no matter how much Eastern Europe
progressed, his family was gone. It made him want to put his fist against a
wall. The bad part was that Kerry was right, as always. She apologized and that
was all she could do. As for the rest, he would have to suck it up.

~*~

One last glance at her watch, and the meeting was over. It sounded like the
ocean as people began to get off their chairs and to walk outside. Abby reached
inside her bag, taking out a card and holding it tight in her hand. She waited
for everyone to leave before she walked over to Nigel. He looked up at her as he
gathered his things and smiled.

"Um, I have a, uh..." Abby tried to explain, showing him her card.

Nigel smiled and took the card, signing it on the first spot. "Here you go..."
he read the card. "Abby Lockhart."

"Thank you," Abby said as she put the card back on her bag.

"Will we see you around here again?" he asked, and they both began to walk out
together.

"I don't know. I had this other group, but I don't know if I'll be going back to
them," Abby said.

"Did you relapse recently?" Nigel asked.

Abby just nodded her head.

"I get it," he said. "But you know we're not here to judge anyone. We're all
human."

"That's just what the pamphlet says," Abby replied as they walked down a wide
stair case. "But you know that they're still thinking about it deep down. We're
all human."

"That's true," Nigel said. "But by running away from the problem, you're not
going to solve it. You have to face the people who love you, just like you have
to face your addiction. If you don't, then you're never gonna get to step 12."

Abby looked around as they walked out of the building, the sun blinding her
eyes. She knew he was right, but that didn't make it easy.

"But if you choose to stay, we'll welcome you either way," he smiled, and
pointed to his car. "Do you need a ride?"

"No, I think I'll walk," Abby smiled. "I have a lot to think about." There was
something about these people that always made it easier to share. It was as if
they were therapists, almost. She never hesitated to provide any information
with them, or share any of her life's problems. Maybe she should marry Nigel.

"Okay. Take it easy, Abby," Nigel said with a warm smile.

"You too," Abby said, and walked away.

~*~

"So? How'd it go?" Carter asked as he ran up to Luka, who was half way through
the ambulance bay.

Luka turned around, trying not to appear tortured so much. "Better than I
thought."

"You're staying?" Carter asked.

"Yeah, she apologized," Luka said.

"Wow," Carter chuckled. They walked for a moment in silence and Carter turned
around. "What are you doing tonight? The game's on."

Luka shook his head. "I don't know. I have a lot of charts to work on now."

"Dave's coming, come on. Maybe this time we can find out who that Claire is,"
Carter pleaded.

Luka chuckled but stopped walking, all of a sudden turning serious. "Did you see
Abby?"

Carter stopped too. God, he really didn't want to answer that question, he
really didn't. So he looked around to avoid Luka's eyes. "Uh, yeah, after I
talked to you."

"Is she okay?" Luka asked.

Carter bit his lower lip, hesitating. If he lied, he knew Luka would know. If he
told the truth, he would probably be disappointing the man. "Um..."

"The truth," Luka said, as if he could read Carter's thoughts.

Carter let out a chuckle, looking down. "She's gonna be okay now."

"What happened?" Luka asked, wanting to know every detail.

"Look," Carter started. "She wasn't doing very well, and we had a rough
confrontation, so I'm not gonna lie to you, she hit rock bottom."

Luka let out a sigh and looked away.

"But that's a good thing. Now she knows she has to take it slowly and she'll
take the right steps," Carter said.

"Or start drinking again," Luka added.

"No, no," Carter shook his head. "Abby knows better."

"I hope so," Luka said. He wanted to ask more, go see her, at least call her on
the phone, but he knew Abby didn't want to see him at the moment. He still had
that red mark on his face to prove that. The frustrating part was that he would
have to stand back, and give her time. By the way Carter made it sound, it
seemed like it would be too much time for him to endure. He needed to see her
now, as much as he wanted to kill Weaver.

Carter raised his eyebrows slightly. "So? Drinks?"

Luka really didn't want another boys night out. She didn't want to spend a night
with Malucci only to carry him into his bed when the man passed out. He really
didn't want to go to a greasy bar where the game was playing and there were
plates of peanuts on the tables.

But on the other hand, he had a lonely and depressing night working on charts,
and his mind wandering to dangerous territory. He wanted to put Abby out of his
mind, stop seeing the various images on his head where she went to a bar and got
drunk again. He felt, knew, that he should be watching over her, her every move,
control her thoughts if he could. He didn't care how much she hated it, he
needed to take care of her, it was something he simply couldn't control. He
couldn't trust anyone else watching over her. Anyone else wouldn't know what to
do, he did. He couldn't even believe Carter's words, not until he saw it for
himself. He was standing in the middle of the street and he didn't even know how
she was doing, if she was crying, if she was depressed. And if she was, the
heartache was that he couldn't do anything about it.

Carter waited for a response, and Luka only lowered his head as he let out an,
"Okay."

"Okay," Carter repeated. "Same place, 8 o'clock?"

"Yeah," Luka said, and with a smile, he resumed on his walk. He regretted his
decision all the way to his car. Why did he always have to say yes to these
things?

~*~

The evenings were beginning to get warmer and the sun a stronger orange hue as
it made its way down on the horizon. Abby stood by a street post, watching as
the light in front of her told her it was okay to cross the street. She watched
as people rushed past her, moving their legs faster to the other side before the
cars began to run again. The red stop hand flashed five more times, and suddenly
cars began to hush in front of her. Glancing at Luka's hotel one more time, she
felt as something inside of her, that hollow void, made her heart sink in. This
was too much to take.

She turned around and walked back towards the other side of the sidewalk,
parallel to the hotel. As she did, she watched as a limousine parked in front of
the hotel, letting out a middle aged man who was holding the hand of a young
blonde, probably in her early twenties. The dress she was wearing was black and
too tight, revealing the end of her tights just where the pelvis and the thigh
met. Her heels were as thin as air, and high enough to make her come face to
face with her male companion. She couldn't deny the obvious dye job, and her
make up was enough quantity to dress an entire herd of brides' maids; her brain
cells weren't.

They were probably going to have sex tonight. She wondered just how close to
Luka's room they were going to stay. The man was obviously rich, obviously
married, and obviously heartless. Still, somewhere inside, she knew they were
luckier than her. It's easy to go through life when you have that amount of make
up in your face. It's easy to ignore your misfortunes when you don't have a
heart. She began to wonder if the pharmacy next to her apartment building sold
Maybellene.

"Hey, watch it, lady!" she heard a male voice hiss at her after her body bumped
into him.

Abby looked down and gasped, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

The man looked up as he gathered the cans of beans and boxes of cereal. "Just
watch where you're going, okay?"

"I'm so sorry," Abby said as she picked up the last box of Fruit Loops and put
it inside the man's paper bag. He threw one last mean look at her, and continued
on his path. Abby felt a slight pain on her wrist, and shook it a couple of
times as she stood in the middle of the side walk in front of the hotel,
witnessing as the middle age man gave his sex toy a peck on the lips and
together they walked into the hotel.

She looked down at her shoes and let out a sigh. Why was this so hard? Why
couldn't she just walk in there, tell him she's sorry, that he had been right
all along and forget it even happened in the first place? Why couldn't she be
the little man this time? Because Luka wasn't expecting her to, that's why. He
was probably in bed, watching television and knowing that Abby would never come
back to say she was sorry, to admit she was wrong. The thought made her sad. She
had been too busy trying to transform herself into the kind of person who
doesn't need anything from anybody, a wall of pure bricks. In the meantime she
had forgotten that when people walk into walls of bricks, they get hurt.

Her heart stopped beating and her whole body jumped up when she watched as
Luka's car parked in front of the hotel. Luka never used the valet parking. She
took a couple of steps back, trying to hide away, but there were too many people
around her for him to notice she was there. He got out of the car, and during
those two seconds when he faced her way, she tried to analyze his face. He
looked tired, maybe mad, with a mix normalcy. He tossed the keys to one of the
valet guys, and without looking back, walked into the hotel.

Abby stood there and watched as his car was driven away. He was home now. She
could kiss her pride good bye for a couple of minutes and knock on his door. But
how would Luka react to see her there? How would his face change? Abby had put
him through too much for him to forgive her. She had hurt him too much for him
to take her back.

Luka was done with her.

This time she wouldn't glance back, she'd walk away. She didn't know just what
she was walking to this time. Physically, her apartment. Mentally, the unknown.
She was hanging from the ceiling by a thread. Going to rehab was like being born
again, but not having a childhood, going straight into adulthood. She didn't
know what to do. No one had told her what to do. She didn't have her job, or her
family, or her friends, or her marriage to Richard, or Luka. She had nothing.
Looking into her own future gave her goose bumps. Maybe her life should be like
Ben's, going in and out of rehab after countless relapses. She could be a drunk
forever. At least people expect you to be a nobody when you are. When you screw
up, no one is surprised. You're not expected to do a good job, or be the world's
best girlfriend, or be a spectacular friend. They have no hopes for you, and
that is safety.

As she rounded a corner, she watched as a mother with five children crossed the
street. The kids were shouting, and running, and pulling on their mother's
skirt, and crying, and hitting each other. It felt familiar, somehow. Each one
of those children was like an aspect of her life at the moment: her job, her
friends, her life, her sobriety, and Luka. There they were, running around,
spinning her body out of control, pushing away, pulling away, running back and
forth, making it impossible to hear, feel, or see. It was a horrible thing to
see, how the mother couldn't even control one child. All of a sudden, the
mother's heel fell on a crack and she came down on the floor.

Abby rushed over, bending down slightly. "Are you okay?"

The woman, with tired eyes, looked up and smiled slightly. "Yeah. Oh, this is so
embarrassing," she said as she used Abby's hand to pull herself up.

"Mom, we're gonna be late!" the older girl said, crossing her arms in front of
her and holding no concern for her mother.

"Jessica, can you please for once just think of someone rather than yourself?"
the woman scolded her child.

"Forget it! I'm walking there myself!" the girl shouted and walked away.

All the other kids began to yell at their big sister, and Abby turned towards
the woman. "Are you sure you're okay? You could have sprained your ankle."

"No, no. I'm fine, thank you," the woman replied as she watched her daughter
walk away from her. "Come on, everybody, let's go."

"Mom, can we go for ice cream?" a little boy asked as she held on to his
mother's hand.

"Not today," the woman said as she began to limp and every one of the kids began
to protest.

Abby watched. The woman walked to the west, and her daughter to the east. That
was five minus one. Abby wondered just which aspect of her life this girl
represented.

To be continued...