If we make it through December
Everything’s gonna be alright, I know
It’s the coldest time of winter
And I shiver when I see the falling snow
If we make it through December
Got plans to be in a warmer town, come summertime
Maybe even California
If we make it through December, we’ll be fine
– If We Make It Through December, Phoebe Bridgers

---

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

The morning began the way all their mornings did — with Elizabeth Morgan rolling over and blearily knocking the alarm clock off the nightstand where it continued to trill face down from the carpet.

“Five more minutes,” she muttered, rolling over in the other direction, burying her face into the pillow.

But her husband was already climbing out of bed. Jason walked around their bed and picked up the alarm. He switched it off, set it back on the nightstand where it would be assaulted again the next morning.

His wife of nearly three years had already fallen back asleep and would stay that way for another hour. Jason had stopped suggesting she change the time on the clock a few months after her first semester at graduate school. Elizabeth was sure that eventually she’d be able force herself out of bed at five, and just think of how much she’d get done with that extra hour!

Jason didn’t need a lot of sleep, so it was easier for him to get started on the day. He showered, brushed his teeth, checked on their toddler in his own bed across the hall. Cameron, who would be three in March, slept like the dead — just like his mother. He was sprawled on his stomach, his arms and legs sprawled, the comforter kicked down to the bottom of the bed.

Jason covered Cameron to the waist, then left the door ajar in case he woke up. Elizabeth never missed the sounds of their son waking — no matter how soft. But the shrill and obnoxious alarm clock? Barely made a ripple. One of the many contradictions he loved about her.

By the time Elizabeth woke — naturally — it was just after six, and Jason had already brewed a pot of coffee for himself and had water in the kettle boiling for Elizabeth’s favored flavor — decaf, he reminded himself, reaching in the cabinet for the tea bag canister. He laid down three down — two black, one mint flavored so she could have the sweet taste without the sugar.

He’d just started to put together the scrambled eggs Cameron loved for breakfast when he heard his wife on the steps. “You didn’t wake me,” Elizabeth complained with a wrinkle of her nose. She accepted the mug with the tea already steeping and inhaled the scent before kissing him. “How am I ever going to get out of bed on time if you don’t make me get up?”

“You don’t need to get up at five,” Jason said, tipping the pan into a plastic container where they’d sit until Cameron woke in another hour or so. “And you’re done classes for the semester.”

“Forever,” Elizabeth reminded him with a wide, bright smile over the edge of her blue mug, decorated with snowflakes. “All that’s left is the internship credits this spring. As long as we don’t get any surprises, I’ll be walking across the stage in May.” She sat at the table. “Kelly says I’m not due until two weeks after the ceremony, so I should be fine.”

Jason glanced over, but there was still little evidence of the baby she carried—their second. She was just under sixteen weeks pregnant, but they hadn’t told anyone yet. Elizabeth had wanted to get through the first trimester, and then it had been so close to Christmas, she’d thought it would be a great present for their family. And since he’d promised her that they’d try to enjoy this pregnancy more than their first, he wasn’t going to argue with the idea.

“I talked to Kelly by the way, and she couldn’t reschedule the appointment today.” Elizabeth bit her lip as Jason joined her at the table. “I’m sorry. I wrote down the wrong day, and if I reschedule, Kelly can’t fit me in until after the holidays, and I—”

“—need the results of the pulmonary test,” Jason finished. “I know. I’d cancel, but—” He grimaced. “I didn’t stay long when I was up there in August,” he admitted. “And I think Sonny knew I wasn’t really interested in being there. This is the only time Carly will go, so—”

“No, you have to go. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.” She flashed him another smile, and he felt the first stirring of unease. “Didn’t we do everything exactly the way Kelly and Monica told us to? We waited until two years after my surgery to even think about it, and for all my labs to be completely normal. This is just a routine visit.”

Jason exhaled slowly, gripping the handle of the coffee mug just a little bit more tightly. There was no such thing as a routine visit after what they’d been through—what Elizabeth had been through. But it was her body, and all the doctors had said she could have another child if she wanted to. And she had, so in July, they’d tossed out their birth control, and within six weeks, they’d had a positive test.

Elizabeth had been giddy, sparkling with excitement and plans. Everything would be different this time, she’d told him, and he’d gone along with it. He’d been excited at the first appointment — when they’d heard the heartbeat, and Elizabeth had helped him understand the image during the ultrasound. Maybe having more children had been her idea initially — but Jason was on board now and looking forward to it.

But now they were drawing closer to Christmas, and her pregnancy was starting to show. She was tired more often, which was normal, he’d reminded himself. Sweaters still hid the curve of her belly for now, but Jason couldn’t help but remember that it had been Christmas when her condition had worsened the last time. She’d been relatively healthy with Cameron until this point in the pregnancy, he thought. Just around eighteen weeks. And then it had all changed.

“I can see you thinking.” Elizabeth rested her chin on her fist, smiled at him. “I promise you. I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be either.”

“I’m trying not to,” Jason admitted. “I don’t like not going with you. I always go with you.”

“I know.” She reached over, covered his knee with her hand. Jason tugged lightly on her arm, and she came willingly into his lap, hooking her arm around his neck. “I love you,” Elizabeth murmured, leaning down to brush her mouth against his. “You’ll go see Sonny, and I’ll go have this appointment. Then tomorrow, we’ll take Cameron to see Santa. And everything will be fine.”

Dante & Cruz’s Apartment: Bedroom

Dante Falconieri opened the bottom drawer of his dresser and exhaled a slow breath. Of course, not a single piece of clothing had been folded—it was a jumble of jeans, bras, panties, and tops that seemed more like a clump than someone’s clean clothing. He tried to pick up one pair of jeans, but the legs were twisted in the lacy straps of a bra whose hooks had caught on a thin purple sweater.

The chaos of the drawer where Lesley Lu Spencer had stored some of her clothing during the nearly two years they had dated characterized the bubbly and charming blonde. She attacked life with a zest and impulsiveness that he’d found charming and irresistible until the last few months.

She hadn’t changed, Dante thought, but he had. He dropped the clothes, then carefully unhooked the entire drawer to upend it into the box on the bed, already half filled with other pieces of Lulu he’d found around his apartment. Books and notebooks from long ago semesters, CDs, random pieces of jewelry and make-up—

He’d waited to pack her things, knowing that there was a finality to it he wasn’t ready for. In a few months, they would have marked their third anniversary, and it was hard to let go of any of that knowing that he still loved her. That she loved him.

But there’d be no box from her place filled with his belongings—Lu still lived with her parents, and Dante had never spent the night under Luke and Laura Spencer’s roof. That was another one of their fights — she thought it was disrespectful to spend more than a night or two every week with him while she lived with her parents, but never wanted to discuss solutions.

Three years, Dante thought. Three years should have been enough time for both of them to take another step. Better to find out now that she didn’t want that step.

“Dante?”

He closed the flaps of the box and went to the hallway where he found his mother in the kitchen, a lasagna in her hands. Olivia Falconieri set it on the counter and looked at him, her dark eyes rimmed with red.

“Ma?”

“Your grandmother died,” Olivia said, and Dante sucked in a sharp breath as if he’d taken a punch to the gut. His grandmother. Marta Falconieri. He hadn’t spoken to her in nearly three years.

You won’t be welcome in my house again. Your mother can come, but not you.

Not since the day Dante had testified against his cousin, turning on family, had he considered himself part of the Falconieri clan. Olivia hadn’t been cut off, but she’d distanced herself all the same. His grandmother thought Dante should have kept his mouth shut and potentially let Vinnie Esposito, the piece of shit who had brutally raped and attacked countless women, go free.

He’d never regretted his testimony, but he’d felt the loss of his family, of his grandmother, keenly. And he realized now, standing in his kitchen, he hadn’t believed it would be forever.

“Grandma died,” Dante echoed. “I—I’m sorry. Ma.” He stepped forward to embrace Olivia. “You going down to see Frankie and the rest of them?”

“No. No. They—” Olivia sniffled, swiped at her eyes. “No. Frankie asked if we’d wait until the services. They, uh, well, my sister isn’t up to seeing us—”

“The sister who still claims I framed her son, sure. I’m not up to seeing her, either,” Dante said grimly. He put the lasagna in the fridge. “Glad to see Uncle Frankie still taking her side—”

“Dante—” Olivia said nothing else, and he felt like a heel. Neither of them had done anything wrong and they’d been treated worse than the serial rapist. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Ma. You and me, we did what was right. I made sure he’s going to rot in prison, and you stuck by Aunt Lo. We stood up for Brooke.” Dante jerked a shoulder. “The rest the family can suck my ass—sorry,” he muttered when she scowled. “I’m sorry, Ma. About Grandma.”

“Thank you, baby. I—I just thought maybe we could have dinner together tonight. You and me. And maybe Lois and Lu if they can make it. And Cruz if he’s not working—”

“That’s fine, but—” Dante braced himself. “Ma, Lu and I aren’t—we’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“What?” Her brows raised. “Why? When?”

“About two months ago, we decided to take some time. I didn’t say anything,” he added when she opened her mouth, “because I thought it would just be a break. But it’s just—we want different things, Ma. You know I want to get married, have kids. And she doesn’t.”

“Oh.” Olivia pressed her lips together. “All right. That—that’s too—that’s too bad. You were good together.”

“Yeah. We were.” Dante sighed. “And now we’re not.”

Pentonville State Prison: Waiting Room

Why did they always come at Christmas? Carly thought, watching as other visitors were called through security one by one. Why had she chosen the coldest, darkest time of year to make this trip?

It was the third Christmas she’d driven up to the state prison with Jason, just the two of them in the SUV. He always drove, and she always carried a box of photographs for Sonny to refresh his cell. She’d pick out the best ones of Morgan, and he’d always take them, half-listening to the stories of their three-year-old son, whom Sonny barely knew.

It had been a cold December day, Carly thought, when she’d dropped her boys at Laura Spencer’s house while she and Sonny had gone to Syracuse to support Elizabeth at a hearing against her rapist. It had been the last time Sonny had ever seen Morgan, she thought. The infant had never come home — and Sonny’s erratic behavior had only worsened over the next few months.

And of course, that night — Carly had left Sonny for the last time.

“We’re getting Michael a bike this year,” Carly said, hating the silence. She glanced over at Jason who squinted at her. “I should have done it last year, but well, I wasn’t ready to put him on wheels. He could drive away from me.”

“It’s a bike, Carly. They go maybe five miles an hour. You could catch up.”

Carly nodded, almost absently, glancing down at the box in her hands. “Is everything okay? I mean, you’re always quiet. But today, you seem more quiet than normal.”

Jason hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. It’s…Elizabeth scheduled a doctor’s appointment today.  She had a pulmonary function test last week, and the results are in. She wrote down the wrong day for this,” he said, gesturing to the room around them. “And now I’m not with her. I’m…here.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Are you—I mean, isn’t she supposed to have these like twice a year—”

“Every six months. But I should still be there.”

Because of all the times he hadn’t been, Carly thought. He’d left her in that house on Cherry Blossom Lane, desperate to find a way into the panic room where Carly had been hidden — and Elizabeth had nearly died from a pulmonary embolism. He’d left Elizabeth to help Taggert with the rape case — and Vinnie Esposito had attacked her.

And the coup de grâce, Carly reminded herself. Jason had been taking care of business when Sonny had burst in on Elizabeth, and she’d been rushed to the hospital, coughing up blood, and nearly died.

“You know, you could stop thinking of all the times you’ve left her,” Carly said. “And remember that she survived. She’s pretty tough, Jason. She can handle whatever results she’s getting. And no matter what they are, you’ll be home tonight.”

“I—I know that.” Jason exhaled slowly. “And you’re right. She’s stronger than she looks.”

Carly looked around them, saw that the room was emptying out, and wondered what method they were using this time to put the visitors through security if it wasn’t the last name of the prisoner.

“Who’s we?” Jason said, drawing Carly’s attention. She frowned at him, and he added, “You said we’re getting him a bike.”

“Oh. Um, AJ. Me and AJ.” She cleared her throat. “We thought…we thought maybe we should each get him one so he’d have it at both places, but we thought it would…you know, help the whole Santa thing if we did just the one. And just put it in the car when he needed it at AJ’s.” She made a face. “That sounds silly, doesn’t it? We should have just done two.”

“It doesn’t—”

“I mean, he’s going to be eight this year,” Carly continued. “It’s silly to keep pretending that Santa is a real thing. But I guess…I wanted to keep the magic. Just a little longer.” She exhaled in a rush. “He’s growing up so fast. And Morgan. I can barely keep them in clothes. I feel like I’m going to blink and they’ll be teenagers. I’m not ready for it.”

“It’s not silly,” Jason reassured her. “We’re taking Cameron to see Santa — the first time I think he’ll really understand it. Elizabeth is really excited. I don’t—I mean, I get the Santa thing but I’m not sure I’m ever going to buy into it the way you both do.”

Carly smiled wistfully. “Like you said, this is your first year with Cameron really understanding who Santa is. You’re going to give him something from Santa that he really wants, and his eyes will light up, and he’ll believe in the magic, the endless possibilities. And you’ll know you’re the one giving it to him, sure. But it’s giving him the world in a way you just can’t when he’s older and doesn’t believe.”

Jason opened his mouth, then frowned when he saw that the room had emptied out — and they still hadn’t been called over. “I’ll be right back,” he told Carly, but when he stood, she followed him to the security desk.

“We’re waiting to see Michael Corinthos,” Jason said. “Jason Morgan and Carly Corinthos. Our names are on his list—”

“Oh.” The guard frowned, then clicked a few buttons on the computer. “No, it looks like that prisoner has declined all visitors today. Sorry. Maybe he left a message, and you didn’t get it?”

“But—” Carly bit down hard on her lip as Jason just scowled. “We drove all this way—”

“I’m sorry,” the guard said. “It happens sometimes. These guys get depressed about what they’re missing. They don’t want to see any evidence of it. You folks should head on home. Have a safe drive.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Alan emerged from the front parlor, his reading glasses in one hand as AJ reached the bottom of the steps. “Ah, are you heading to Bobbie’s now?”

“Yeah.” AJ shrugged into his coat. “Why did you need something?”

“I just wanted to check what time they were coming over on Christmas Eve.” Alan perched his glasses on his face and peered down at the paper in his hand. “The hospital party is at noon, and Cook wanted dinner on the table by six here at the house—and did you ask Carly about having Michael overnight this year?”

AJ hesitated, then wound his scarf around his neck, letting the ends fall against his brown overcoat. “No. I didn’t. Michael will want to be with his brother on Christmas morning. I know you and Mom were hoping to have him here this year—”

Alan’s lips thinned as he pressed them together. “How many times is Carly going to use Morgan as an excuse? You know, I could count on one hand how many holidays you’ve actually had your son—”

“Carly didn’t use Morgan as an excuse. I never asked her about this year. I don’t want to have this argument again—”

“I thought you were supposed to have joint custody, but it seems like all you do is go over there.” Alan squared his shoulders. “I don’t understand this. Why don’t you want more time with your son? After everything you’ve been through—”

“Damn it, I told you—” AJ bit back his protest, then took a deep breath. “Look, I’ll talk to her about Christmas, but he’ll be here on Christmas Eve, and Carly’s bringing him here—”

“Why is it always on her terms?” Alan demanded. “When are you going to stop feeling sorry for her? It’s been three years—”

“This has been fun, but I have somewhere to be.” He resisted the urge to slam the door on his way out, but just barely.

General Hospital: Examination Room

Monica Quartermaine closed the door and traded a look with her daughter-in-law’s doctor before facing the examination bed where Elizabeth laid on her back, her sweater pushed up to reveal the slight curve of her belly.

Kelly Lee sighed, then returned her attention to her patient and the ultrasound tech. “All good from here, Liz. Nothing different from last month. The baby measures out just as we expected for sixteen weeks.”

“Thanks for doing another one,” Elizabeth said, her eyes focused on the screen where the outline of her second child could be seen. “I just…I wanted to see him again,” she added, smiling nervously at Monica. “I guess I’m a little anxious. We really just want a healthy pregnancy this time.”

“Well, so far so good from my end of the spectrum. Get cleaned up and we’ll go set up your next appointment.”

While Elizabeth did that, Kelly and Monica went through the connecting door to Kelly’s office. “You don’t look like there’s good news,” Kelly said to Monica. “What did the scan show?”

Monica set the chart on the desk for Kelly, then rubbed her forehead. “A healthy pregnancy. That’s all they want. And that’s not going to happen.”

Kelly studied the report. “Well, it’s just one clot. That’s not terrible. We’ve caught it and you can break this up pretty easily in the cath lab. She’ll be in the hospital for what, a week after? It shouldn’t even lead to another angioplasty, and there’s no sign that’s led to any scarring—”

“One clot is one too many,” Monica said tightly.

Kelly grimaced, then took a seat behind her desk. “You’re too close to this, Monica, and you know it. Any other hospital, and you wouldn’t be working this case. She’s your daughter-in-law, and that’s your grandchild she’s carrying—”

“I know the facts—”

“You and I both cautioned Elizabeth to wait before thinking about having another child. She did that,” Kelly allowed. “But her lungs are clear, and there’s been no sign of the CTEPH since her surgery. Her health is good. Your anxiety as a grandmother? As a mother? It’s understandable, but as a doctor, you know she’s in excellent hands. We brought her through a much more risky pregnancy, and look at her now. Look at Cameron.”

“You’re right. You’re right. I just—I dread telling her,” Monica admitted. “I’ve been the one to tell her all the terrible things that have happened — I couldn’t even enjoy telling her she was pregnant the first time,” she muttered.

“Well, you can enjoy it this time.” Kelly rose to her feet when she heard the knock on the connecting door. “And if you like, I’ll tell her this.”

“No. I’m her doctor.” Monica took a deep breath. “I can do this.”

Brownstone: Foyer

Carly dropped her keys in the ceramic bowl on the side table, then hung up her coat. “Hey, I’m back.” She stepped around the corner of the double foyer doors that opened into her mother’s living room, and leaned against the door frame, smiling at the familiar sight.

Michael was sitting cross-legged in front of the television, his head craned up, his tongue sticking out slightly with his brow furrowed. The video controller in his hand might as well be glued there, Carly thought, for how much he played.

Morgan was over in the play corner with the little activity table and cannisters of Play Doh her mother kept at her place. And seated next to Michael, the television screen reflected in the lenses of his new glasses was Cameron, entranced by the graphics and Michael who explained everything he was doing to his cousin. She kissed and hugged Morgan, but the video game players barely spared her any attention.

AJ was at the table in the kitchen, looking over paperwork, a pen clutched in one hand, a calculator in the other. He glanced up as she approached, then frowned. “You’re back early.”

“Might as well have stayed home,” she said with a heavy sigh, then propped her chin on her first. “That looks like fun. Doing math?”

“Crunching numbers for a grant Lois is submitting to the state after the holidays,” AJ replied. He set down the pen. “ELQ is going to sponsor a free clinic at General Hospital, but the city is hoping to get federal funding, too.”

“A free clinic, huh? That’s a good idea. Mama’s always talking about how hard it is in the emergency room. People come in there for all kinds of small illnesses and end up with huge bills because they don’t have regular doctors.” Carly shrugged. “Surprised you’re doing that personally—”

“No one else would do the work over the holidays, and I had the time.” AJ tipped his head. “Why are you home so early? Bobbie said you wouldn’t be back until maybe six.”

She exhaled slowly, then stared down at her hands. “Sonny, um, refused to see us. Which he didn’t bother to tell us until we were already there.” Carly shook her head. “Jason was pissed. Elizabeth had a doctor’s appointment — you know one of her regular ones for her lungs? And he was wasting his time on Route 81.”

“I don’t know why you even bother to go,” AJ said, packing up his paperwork, shoving things back into a folder, then into a black bag he’d stowed on the chair next to him. “You or Jason. It’s always a waste of your time. Even when you do get to see him.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Carly retorted. “You know, if you were so busy, you didn’t have to—”

AJ clenched his jaw, suddenly rose from the chair, and went to pull the doors closed. The boys were still visible through the glass, but the sound would be muffled. “I want Michael for Christmas this year,” he said.

“I—” Carly twisted on the chair to face him, bewildered. “What? Why?”

“Why do I have to justify it? You know, most people trade the holidays. You’ve had them all—”

“I haven’t—” Carly jerked to her feet. “This is coming from your family, isn’t it? You’ve never complained once, but your mother still doesn’t like me—”

“Can’t really blame her for that, can you?” AJ cut in. “I have a right to see my son—”

“And you—” Carly closed her mouth, dropped back into the seat, exhausted suddenly. “You never asked before,” she said softly. “And you’re springing this on me when Christmas is this weekend, and I just—I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were unhappy with the custody arrangements. You never said.”

AJ dragged his hands down his face. “You’re not wrong that it’s coming from my family. But it’s not my mother. It’s my father. I’m not—” His hands fall to his side, and one of them curled into a fist. “I’m not unhappy with the custody arrangements. But when my dad brought it up the first time, I knew you’d say no. And I wanted it. I’ve had one Christmas morning with him, Carly. Just that one morning. Every year, you bring him for dinner, and that’s—okay, that’s something. But it’s not enough.”

“No, I guess it’s not.” Carly exhaled, and rose to stand next to him, looking into the living room where Morgan had abandoned the Play-Doh and was now sitting with Michael and Cameron. “You know, you said something to me once…that I still think of Michael as something I can give or take away. As if he’s mine. And you were right.” She looked at him, their eyes meeting. “Do you still feel like that?”

“Sometimes,” AJ admitted. “I know it’s better now. And I know you and I understand each other better. That we even care about each other. But yeah, sometimes it still feels like you think you’re doing me a favor.”

Carly absorbed that, nodding, then looked back at the scene in the living room. “It’s selfish of me to keep him to myself. I wanted to say no. Because Morgan would wake up without him on Christmas morning, and it would be confusing for him. But he’s three. He’d get over it. You should have Michael for Christmas. When we come over the night before, Michael — he can stay. A-and we should talk about how to divide those kind of things better. Revisit the custody. He’s not mine to give or keep away,” she murmured. “I know that’s true. I’m sorry I have to keep learning that.”

“And I want to get Michael a bike for my house,” AJ continued, and her eyes widened. “I agree with you that it should be just one for Christmas because of the Santa thing, but I don’t want to lug the damn thing back and forth.”

“I—thought we—” Carly bit her lip. “That’s something I said, and you didn’t fight me on it, isn’t it? How many times have you done that in the last two years?”

“More than I should have,” AJ admitted. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you really surprised, Carly? You cut me out of Michael’s life more than once. More than twice. I know you wouldn’t do it again, but maybe sometimes I… give in to make sure.”

She wanted to argue with him. Wanted to throw all his mistakes back in his face, but he hadn’t really made any. He’d lost custody of Michael and moved on. Maybe he’d tried a few underhanded things to get back into Michael’s life, but what had Carly done to secure her sole control of Michael? She’d turned to Sonny, and how had that turned out for all of them?

“Well, it stops,” Carly murmured. “All of it.” She raised her head to look at him again. “It stops now. Michael loves you, and you’re a good father. You lost enough time with him. I think Santa should bring him two bikes. One for each house.”

“Uh, okay. Thank you. I, um appreciate that.” AJ stepped back.

“I have to pick up the bike I ordered from Wyndham’s tomorrow. We’ll have another one shipped to your place. Do you—why don’t you come with me tomorrow? You can pick it out. Unless you have work—”

“No, that’s a good idea. Just let me know.” AJ hesitated. “Thank you, Carly—”

“Don’t thank for doing something I should have done a long time ago.” Carly pulled open the glass doors and went in to see the kids.

Luke’s: Office

Lucky Spencer knocked lightly on the door frame of his father’s office. “Hey, Dad, you got a minute?”

Luke’s legs dropped from the desk, and he jerked the cigar from his mouth. “Ah, I wasn’t smoking—”

Lucky grinned, though it was a faint one that barely reached his eyes. “Your secret is safe with me. I won’t say a word to, Mom, but you better keep a second set of clothes to go home in. You know how that smoke lingers.”

Luke wrinkled his nose and stubbed the cigar tip into the nearby ashtray. “Natasha gets lung cancer, and I’m the one that suffers. Where’s the justice?”

“Yeah, we all feel sorry for you.” Lucky rolled his eyes, came into the office properly. “They think they beat it, though, with this last round of chemo. Nikolas is hoping she’ll get good news after the holidays.”

“She deserves a break, that’s for sure.” Luke rubbed his chest. “What brings you by? You’re not on the clock for the boys in blue?”

“No, I just finished. I thought I’d pick up a shift here since Kelsey’s working late.” Lucky shoved his hands in his pockets. “You always need the extra hands with the holidays and all—”

Luke considered his son for a long moment, plucked the cigar out of the ashtray and relit the tip. “You’ve been picking up a lot of extra shifts here because she’s working late. You, uh, don’t think you’re working too much? Both of you? Aren’t the holidays for being together and all that?”

“If you don’t need the help—” Lucky turned towards the door, but his father’s next words stopped him.

“December 28, wasn’t it? That was the date.”

Lucky closed his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, it was. It was supposed to be.”

“Hmm. Well, you know I could use the help. Let Claude know.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason set Cameron on the floor, then turned to close the door. “Elizabeth? We’re back!”

“Hey!” Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen, grinning brightly as Cameron went towards her, stumbling a little as he tried to run, but she caught him and swept him up in her arms. “Hey, baby. Did you have fun with Grandma Bobbie?”

“Uh huh.” Cameron grinned, flashing his bright baby white teeth at her. “Aunt Car there. Uncle AJ.”

Elizabeth tensed, glanced at Jason who was hanging up their coats — including the one she’d left hanging over the back of the desk chair. “Uncle AJ?” she asked.

“Yeah. He nice.” Cameron squirmed to get down, and Elizabeth released him. He half-ran, half-walked towards his toy bin.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Jason said, when she went to his side. “If that’s what you were going to ask. He’s been home more than two years. Sober. And he’s good to Michael. And Morgan,” he added. “That’s all that matters to me. I don’t want to confuse Cam as he gets older.”

“I know, but—” Elizabeth bit her lip, then touched his arm. “How was the prison?” she asked, wandering over to the sofa, taking a seat. Wanting to put off her part of the conversation as long as possible.

“Sonny refused to see us.” Jason joined her on the sofa, drew her hand into his lap so that he could lace their fingers together. His thumb smoothed across her palm. “So there’s nothing to say.”

“Oh. That’s…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “That must have been hard for both of you. I’m sorry.”

“I might go back in a week or two. Maybe it was just a bad day.” But Jason’s body was tight and tense, and she was sorry she’d have to add to that. Even if Monica and Kelly had tried to reassure her.

Elizabeth looked over to the corner where Cameron had found his favorite toy — a firetruck that lit up and made sounds. He liked anything on wheels, she thought, then touched her hand to her belly. What would this baby be like?

“How about you?” Jason said, nudging her shoulder gently. “How did it go?”

“Oh. Well, Kelly did another ultrasound. I brought the video so you could see it,” she said. He kissed her temple, and she could feel the curve of his lips against her skin.

“What about the pulmonary test?”

She sighed, and she felt him tense against her. He drew back so that their eyes met. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low. “Are you—is there something wrong?”

“Um, maybe.” Her voice faltered. She’d kept it together at the hospital as Monica had given her the news, had managed to drive home. To put together something for dinner. But now, looking at Jason, telling him that there was a chance it was starting all over again— “Monica found a small clot in my lungs. Just one. That’s good. I mean, that’s why I have the scans, you know?” She drew in a deep breath, then sat up, wondering how many times she’d be able to do that before she couldn’t breathe anymore.

She pushed herself from the sofa and went to the balcony, skirting around the edge of the pool table, swiping at the tears that she couldn’t seem to stop.

“Hey. Hey.” Jason was right behind her, and roughly dragged her back into his arms, burying his face in her hair. “It’s okay. We’ll make it okay again. We did it last time, didn’t we?”

“That’s—” Elizabeth fisted her hands in his thin sweater. “Monica said that, a-and we already scheduled the, um, procedure. After Christmas. I have to go into the hospital for a few days. And it’s just one clot, and she said she’d break it up with no worries, but we didn’t know the last time. There were clots we never knew about, and they left the scar tissue, and I couldn’t breathe for months, and I hurt you, and Cam—” She looked across the room at their miracle. At the baby that probably never should have made it through all the trauma and terror she’d lived through for the seven months she’d been pregnant — from the horror of Vinnie Esposito, the never-ending tension of Ric Lansing’s whereabouts, and her medical condition—

But Cameron had survived, and he was healthy. He could breathe, and he could talk, and he could walk. He was even running now. He was potty-trained. He could see, even with the little plastic glasses strapped around his head because he’d never leave glasses on otherwise.

“I don’t know if I can do it again,” Elizabeth admitted painfully. She looked up, met Jason’s eyes. “I don’t know if I can put us through this again. But I also—” She swallowed hard. “We wanted this baby. And it’s just the one clot. Right?”

“Right.” Jason kissed her forehead again. “We’ll be okay. It’ll be different this time. I promise.”

She wanted to believe him, but it was hard to put it away now that she’d opened the door. But she’d have to try, for her family. She didn’t want to upset Cameron or worry Jason more than he already was, especially when she knew he was thinking about Sonny, too.

“I ordered dinner from the Grille and picked it up.” She pulled away, but he tugged her back, tipping her face up so that their eyes met again. Jason cupped her face, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears on her cheeks. “Jason.”

“I love you. And we’re going to be okay. Whatever happens. Okay?”

“Okay. I love you, too.” She curled an arm around his neck, and kissed him, losing herself in the way he always made her feel safe and cherished. Whatever happened, she thought. They’d have each other.

| Chapter 2 →