A Family Matter
Part Three - The Journey
By Martha Mills
martheeny@yahoo.com

Thanks also to Sharon, Debbie, Cathy and Ally for their invaluable feedback, encouragement and support. And to everyone else who sent along a kind message, or enjoyed this story.

Note: This story was somewhat inspired by a movie called "Liar’s Moon." I highly recommend it.

John was on his way to pick up some labs when his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi there, John. It's Anita, from your dad's office. He'd like to talk to you. Please hold."

John was surprised. He leaned up against the wall. His dad rarely called him during normal business hours. Something was surely wrong. He tried to remember which city Anita worked in. New York? No, that was Evelyn. Los Angeles? Yeah, he thought it was L.A. His dad must be in L.A. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was 3:30 p.m., Pacific Time. "Wow," he thought. "It must be really bad if he's calling me in the middle of the afternoon."

"John?"

"Yes, dad, hi. How's L.A.?" John noticed he was nervously tapping his fingers on the wall. His dad always unnerved him.

"I'm in Chicago, John. We need to meet. Tonight. Cancel any plans you might have, and come to the house, at seven." Roland was firm.

"What's this about?" John was torn. The thought of canceling plans with Abbie to spend an evening with Roland Carter was not appealing to him at all.

"Do you have plans?" Roland asked. "A dinner date, perhaps? If so, bring the young lady along. I'll see you at seven." He hung up the phone.

John put his cell phone back in his pocket. "Now what do I do?" he thought. There was no way he was subjecting Abbie to a Carter dinner. That was the surest way to send her running away from him. But Roland had been insistent, as usual. "Dinner with my dad, how romantic is that?" He searched for a way to break his date with Abbie.

Abbie was just about ready. It was almost time for John to arrive, and she felt like she was sixteen again. Buttoning up her new dress that was not too formal, but still dressy, she heard a knock at the door. As butterflies danced in her stomach, she opened it, to see John standing there with a bouquet of wildflowers.

"Hi ohhh, how pretty!" She gave him a thank-you peck on the cheek.

John blushed. "I saw them and thought of you." He switched into doctor mode. "How does your hand feel today? Any tenderness?"

"No, I haven't had any problems. I was treated by the best."

He chuckled and said, "Well, I try." Then he remembered why he had come to her room, instead of calling her. He had decided to tell her the truth, that his dad was an overbearing control freak who had summoned him to dinner, against his will. There would be no date tonight.

"I've got some bad news. I'm not going to be able to go out tonight." The disappointed look on Abbie's face was too much for him to take. He looked down to the floor. "My dad is in town, and I have been ordered to join him for dinner. Believe me, I don't want to go, but "

"Then don't go."

"If I don't go, there'll be hell to pay. I mean, it's my dad .I can't just .blow it off."

Abbie looked at him. His body language told her that he really didn't want to break their date. She wondered what kind of man John's dad was. Was he an arrogant ass, who thought that wealth made his wants priority over everything and everyone else? That was the impression she was getting. Ordering his grown son to dinner. But then again, he was one of the people who made her education possible. He couldn't be all bad.

She walked over to John, and gently pulled his chin up, so that he was looking in her eyes. "If you have to go, then take me with you. I'd love to meet your dad." She was intent upon spending the evening with John. He had been in her thoughts all day.

"Are you sure you'd want to do that?" He immediately felt better. "This isn't going to be an ordinary dinner. I mean, dad can be brutal with his questions." Somehow he sensed that Abbie would be able to hold her own, though.

"I'm a lawyer, remember? I can take it." She put on her jacket, and grabbed a flower from the bouquet.

"C'mon. Let's face the music."

John would only remember one specific thought he had on the way to the Carter Estate that night. "I think Abbie is the one. The one I'm meant to be with forever." The idea came to him as naturally as breathing. He might have had a flicker of that feeling with Harper, or maybe even more with Anna, but with Abbie, he knew. She had a way of keeping him in the here and now, letting his past simply not matter anymore. That laugh she had. It could be addictive. And, god was she gorgeous. It seemed that from their first date, she seemed so familiar, like he had known her all his life. Part of him was waiting for the other shoe to fall, but he couldn't imagine anything to be flawed about her.

Abbie was enjoying herself, as well. She was nervous as hell about meeting Roland Carter, but confident that she could handle herself. "So, is your mom going to be at this soiree?" She was hoping she wouldn't be the only woman there.

"No, unfortunately, she is in Paris, visiting with my sister, Barbara. God, I hope I don't sound pretentious when I say that." He glanced over at her, to see her listening intently.

Abbie guessed she would be outnumbered by the men after all. "Pretentious? Not in the least. I asked, didn't I?"

John added, "I would have invited my grandmother, but she's abroad, as well. It is the Riviera Season, you know." He was trying his best to sound snooty, and imitating his father to do it.

"Oh my! Now that's pretty bad." She was laughing. "But you need to talk more through your nose. Like Thurston Howell. And clench your teeth. Dah-ling." They were both snickering by this time. She didn't want the trip to end.

But, soon thereafter, they pulled up into the gated driveway. Abbie could see the main house in the distance, easily a quarter-mile from the main road. It was the grandest home she had ever seen. "Wow." She was in awe. She looked at John again, with new eyes. She realized how differently they had grown up. John was a Carter, a name which symbolizes wealth, power, prestige, and her name, Carmichael, which in Quail, Texas, was synonymous with alcoholism, a violent temper, and poverty. She breathed in deeply, readying herself for the evening ahead.

John sensed her apprehension, reached over and touched her arm. "Hey, I'm right here with you. We can do this together. You and me. Dah-ling! Shall we?"

They got out of the jeep and headed for the front door.

 END OF PART THREE