Oh, when you’re still waiting for the snow to fall
It doesn’t really feel like Christmas at all
Still waiting for the snow to fall
It doesn’t really feel like Christmas at all
– Christmas Lights, Coldplay

---

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Corinthos & Morgan Warehouse: Jason’s Office

Though Sonny hadn’t played a role in the company in years, his name remained on the masthead, the logo, and emblazoned on the building. Jason had considered buying out Sonny’s interest, but instead, once Sonny had gone to Pentonville, they’d modified their partnership so that Sonny was a silent partner, and most of his profits went into a trust for Morgan.

Carly had refused one for Michael, intending to cut the cord completely.

Life had been quiet since Jason had tied up the last of the loose ends left by Ric Lansing’s reign of terror. Claudia Zacchara’s death on a Sicilian island had gone mostly unnoticed by the American press, and Anthony Zacchara had done nothing to retaliate. The old man had been lucky to escape with his business intact. His son, Johnny, had remained in Port Charles, ostensibly as evidence of a truce between the organizations, but mostly to be away from his mentally unstable father.

The time would come, Jason thought, when their old enemies would eventually come for the slice of territory he controlled, the profitable shipping lanes between the United States and Canada, but for now, and for the last two years, there hadn’t been much to worry about.

Which was why Jason was able to come into the office this morning to meet his lawyer and cousin, Justus, and know he didn’t need to come back until after New Year’s.

“And this last one—” Justus held out his hand but instead of a contract, there was a photograph. “That’s for Elizabeth. Mikki just got them back from the photographer—”

Jason wasn’t always so great at photos, but he recognized the two girls in the photo. Justus’s six-year-old daughter, Kimani, and her two-year-old cousin, Trina. Kimani, or Kimi, as everyone called her, was smiling brightly with her arms wrapped around the younger girl with a winter wonderland fake background behind them. “Oh, yeah, she—” He pulled open a drawer and handed a different photo over — this one of Cameron, taken in front of a Christmas tree. He didn’t really understand the point of elaborate Christmas photos, but anything that made Elizabeth smile was fine by him.

“Can’t believe he’ll be three,” Justus said, shaking his head before sliding it into his briefcase for safe keeping. “You know, Mikki’s been talking about having another one, and I just don’t know if I have it in me. Kimi already runs the house. My luck, I’ll have another girl—” But Justus was grinning, and Jason figured he’d already agreed. He almost told him about Elizabeth’s pregnancy, but then closed his mouth. They’d waited until the end of the first trimester to be safe, but now—

Now, with Elizabeth going into the hospital for a week after Christmas, they’d have to tell everyone about the baby—and the blood clot. And he didn’t want to get into that today. So, Jason stayed quiet as he and Justus finished their work.

There was a knock on the door, and they both turned to find Carly there. “Hey, is this a bad time? I wanted to stop by on my way to Wyndham’s and see if there’s any last-minute gifts you wanted me to pick up. Hey, Justus, offer’s good for you, too.”

“I commend you for going anywhere near a retail store today,” Justus said, with a dramatic shudder. He picked up his coat. “Thanks, but Mikki and I already ran out of space to hide presents this year. Good luck.”

Carly waited for Justus to clear the room before closing the door. “That’s, um, not the only reason I stopped by.”

“If it’s about yesterday—” Jason stacked the contracts, set them in the corner of his desk. “I think we covered everything on the ride home—”

“It’s not. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly not.” She tossed her coat over the back of the chair, and went over to Jason’s window, overlooking the docks and the water. “I got back, and AJ was with the kids. I mean, you know that. You picked up Cam later—and sorry about the Uncle AJ thing, I should have talked to you first—”

“Carly.” Jason waited for her to look at him. “Michael is Cameron’s cousin. We’ve made sure they see each other as family. Michael knows I’m his uncle. Of course, he considers his father Cam’s uncle. It threw me because he hadn’t…you know, his vocabulary—” He exhaled slowly. “It was delayed, and it’s only the last few months that he’s really started to…”

“Catch up with the other kids his age,” Carly finished, and Jason nodded. “Oh. Well, I didn’t think about that. He walks and runs so well now, especially now that he can see where he’s going,” she added and he smiled at that. “That’s not why I came either. Um, after you left, AJ and I had…I guess it was a fight—” She folded her arms. “AJ’s been letting me have my way on the custody arrangements. Not asking for holidays. Or more time. The thing I told you about the bike? He didn’t want just one bike. He wanted two. But he went along with me.”

When Jason just looked away, shuffled some paper on his desk, she sighed. “That’s not surprising to you.”

“Not really. He’s done that a lot since he moved home. Going along to get along. Not arguing much. Monica mentioned it a few times. I think maybe she wanted me to talk to you, but I didn’t want to get involved. You and AJ don’t need me weighing in about Michael. I think I’ve, uh, done that enough.”

“Yeah, well…I don’t want him to do that,” she muttered. “I want him to tell me what he wants. I’m not a mind reader. I’m trying to be less selfish, to be a good person—” She bit her lip. “Anyway. So, Michael is going to spend Christmas with AJ. At the Quartermaines. And I won’t be with him on Christmas morning. I’m going to be okay with that. I think.” She exhaled in a rush. “And I’m running late to meet AJ at Wyndham’s to pick up Michael’s bike. Both of them. We’re getting two after all. Did you need anything?”

“No, thanks. Elizabeth and I are taking Cam there later anyway. Carly—”

She stopped, looked back. “Yeah?”

“You’re not the same person you were when Michael was born. You wouldn’t make the same choices you did then. Neither would I.”

“I’m glad one of us is sure of that.” Carly looked away, stared at the door frame. “Sometimes I wonder why I needed to go through what I did to get there. Why I needed the panic room and Sonny—why did I need all of that to see AJ as a person?” She met his eyes now. “What kind of person does that really make me?”

“I don’t know, Carly. Why did Elizabeth almost have to die before I could tell her I loved her?” Jason asked, his voice a bit rough. “Things happen, Carly. We deal with them, and we move on.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes — it feels like I’m still there. Trapped in that room. I’ll see you later.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Maxie Jones dumped her coat and purse onto the high-backed stool at the counter, then planted her hands at her hips. “Why are men so terrible?”

Lulu Spencer set the carafe of coffee back on the hot plate and sighed. “Jesse?”

“Jesse wishes he were my problem,” Maxie muttered with a sniff. She hoisted herself onto another stool. “Bring me all the vodka you have.”

“Best I can do is Sprite.”

“Sold.” Maxie peeled the tip from the straw wrapper, then blew through the plastic tube so that the wrapper hit Lulu. “So, you talked to Dante lately?”

“No. The whole point of taking a break is to take a break.” Lulu set the soda in front of her friend. “If it’s not Jesse, then what’s crawled up your butt and died? Is it that Johnny guy?”

“No.” Maxie made a face. “And don’t remind me. He was on a break, too, you know, but now he’s all snuggled up with that nurse again, which he neglected to tell me before—” She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s Kyle.”

“Kyle? There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Isn’t he in med school?”

“He’s home for a break,” Maxie muttered. “And he called to let me know he’s matched to GH next year for his internship, so he just thought it’d be nice to warn me. Warn me, he says, like he’s the one who dumped me—” She rolled her eyes, shredded her napkin into small little pieces. “We both agreed that long distance wasn’t working, and he needed to focus on college, and I totally forgot about him, but now he’s coming back, and I was supposed to be fabulous and unbothered the next time I saw him—” Maxie gripped the counter. “Do I look fabulous and unbothered?”

Lulu tipped her head. “Do you want me to lie to you?”

“Oh, shut up.” Maxie scowled. “He suggested we all get together at Luke’s or Club 101, like the old days. The old days, Lu. Like it hasn’t been two freaking years—”

“Maxie—”

“And I can’t even do what I usually do and get Cruz to pretend to be my date because Kyle knows he’s gay, and besides, the new guy would probably get mad about that—”

“The new guy has been here for six months, Maxie. Don’t you think it’s time you gave him his name?”

“I haven’t decided if Brad is good enough for my bestie, so don’t rush me.” Maxie bit her lip. “Listen. While we’re talking about boys and whatnot, and breaks and all that—some news came through the grapevine, and they put me in charge of checking with you.”

“Who’s they? And what news?” Lulu scowled. “Is Dante dating someone? Because this is supposed to be break, a chance for us to regroup—”

“No. His grandmother died.”

At that, Lulu fell silent. She tugged the towel from her apron and wiped at a spot on the counter.

“I’m guessing you didn’t know, huh? He didn’t say anything about that?”

“How did you find out?”

“Dillon. He got it from Ned, who got it from Lois.” Maxie waited a beat. “Lu—”

“No, he didn’t tell me. That doesn’t—” Her chest felt tight, and Lulu shook her head. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know? He hasn’t talked to his grandmother in, like, three years.”

“That’s true.”

“And we said we were taking a break. We don’t hang out. That was the whole—” Lulu closed her eyes. “How long have you known?”

“Call came yesterday. Dillon said Dante’s mom went over to tell him, so he’s known like twenty-four hours.” Maxie folded her arms, leaned forward. “Lu, maybe it’s time to talk about what you’re doing here. Like, you and Dante are great together, and you know I love you both. But he wants to get married. Have kids. And he wants it, like, now. You don’t even know if you ever want it.”

“Did you think I forgot?” Lulu demanded, but there was little heat to back up the words. She tossed the towel aside, put her head in her hands. “I don’t want it to be like this, Maxie. Why does it have to be like this?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Maxie reached across the counter. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, you get me in the divorce. We’ll key his car or something.”

Lulu snorted, then shook her head. “No. No. Dante—you guys are friends. That’s why this is so hard. Because we love each other. But we don’t…maybe I could do it. You know, if I said we could get married, we could meet halfway or something and he’d wait for the kids—”

“Wait how long?” her friend asked gently. “You know it’s not fair to make one part of the promise and make him wait for something that might never happen. We talked about this months ago. You’re in the same place. How long you gonna keep standing still?”

Brownstone: Foyer

“Where do you want to put this?”

Carly closed the door behind AJ, and considered the long, bulky box they’d dragged up the front steps. “Are you going to hate me if I tell you upstairs?” she asked, biting her lip. “In my place? Michael knows every nook and cranny of Mama’s place, and he knows better than to go in my room.”

AJ made a face as he looked at the narrow staircase leading up to the second floor. “Well, it could be the third floor,” he said with a sigh. “I feel sorry for Taggert.”

“Oh, they’re moving after the holidays,” Carly said. They each lifted one end of the box and AJ went first, slowly backing up the stairs. “Portia threatened to leave him if she had climb one more set of stairs with a stroller.”

“Smart woman,” he said, grunting slightly as they reached the landing of the second floor. Carly lived on the left side of the building in a two-bedroom apartment, her brother Lucas and his boyfriend Felix shared the right side.

“I’ve been thinking about it, too,” she admitted with a wince. She unlocked her apartment door. “It’s great to be this close to my family, but Michael wants his own room. I can’t blame him.” She closed the door. “I’m going to hate losing Lucas right across the hall. I think he actually likes hanging out with the boys.”

They stowed the box that held Michael’s future bike in Carly’s bedroom, which overlooked Elm Street, and Carly took a moment to look wistfully over the view. She knew it was probably time to leave the Brownstone, but it had been her refuge since that terrible day three years ago. She rubbed her arm, a chill sliding down her back at the reminder.

She rarely visited Jason at his place, and he was kind about it — he brought Cam over often to play with the boys, and he was okay with grabbing lunch at Kelly’s. She’d been back to the Towers, of course, had even been to the penthouse. But rarely, and not if she could avoid it.

“Carly?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Carly turned to look at him — wondering if AJ knew how much she counted on him. He’d be surprised, of course, since he was still bracing himself for her to shove him out of Michael’s life again. She smiled weakly. “Just thinking about moving. I could try to find something closer to you, if you want. Make it easier to switch back and forth.”

AJ shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’d be nice, but I like that he’s close to Bobbie and Lucas. It won’t kill Michael to share for another few years. Being around his family is more important.”

“He has his own room at the Quartermaines,” Carly said with a sigh. She headed for the kitchen. “And it’s twice as big as the one he has here. I’m not criticizing that,” she added quickly when he opened his mouth. “But it’s part of it.” She saw the answering machine flickering and pressed the play button, wanting to change the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was sound like she was complaining about how much AJ spoiled their son. Not after the fight they’d just resolved.

“Mrs. Corinthos, this is Lillian Johnson from Pentonville Prison, about your request to visit him in two weeks. Mr. Corinthos has removed you from his visitors list, so I’m afraid that won’t be possible. If you think this was in error—”

Carly slapped the machine, the message skittering a stop. She stared at it blindly for a moment, then pressed a fist to her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Uh, you okay? I could call Jason — or find Bobbie—” AJ cut off when Carly slid to the ground, boneless, leaning up against her kitchen cabinets, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

“Whoa, hey—” AJ’s voice was closer now, but Carly didn’t look up. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t find the light. It was all dark, and there were no windows — but that wasn’t right? Hadn’t there been a window? Hadn’t she just seen the street?

Her fingernails dug into the heels of her palm. Yes, yes, there was the street. Outside her window. Of her apartment. Where Sonny didn’t live. He couldn’t be there. He wasn’t there to lock her in. He was the one locked up. She had a home that was hers and no one could ever take it away.

Carly raised her head, took a deep breath, slowly recognized the kitchen around her—and AJ crouched next to her, worried, a cell phone in his hand.

“I’m okay. I’m—” Her cheeks heated, and she stared at her hands. At the nicks left by her nails. “I just, um. Can you stop looking at me? I feel like an idiot.” Carly let her head drop back against the cabinets, closed her eyes again. “December is a bad month. Which is so goddamn stupid. June should be the bad time. I spent days in that room. Days and nights that never ended and it was always dark and I was chained, but Sonny locks me in one damn room for thirty minutes and—” Horrified, she broke off, shook her head, swiping rapidly at her cheeks. “Never mind. I’m okay.”

“Come on. Let’s go sit down somewhere that isn’t a tiled floor. I’m not as young as I used to be,” AJ said, then hauled Carly off the ground. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s so stupid and I hate it. I hate it,” Carly muttered, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with AJ as he led her to the sofa, her legs shaky, her hands trembling. “Three years is long enough. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“Your husband locked you in a room, Carly, when he knew you were having panic attacks and had been diagnosed with trauma disorder,” AJ bit out, and she looked at him, startled. “Don’t apologize because you can’t snap your fingers and wish it away.”

She pressed her lips together, nodded weakly. “Yeah, okay. It’s just—” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I don’t know what’s going to trigger it, you know? And Sonny—oh, it’s so stupid. I just—that woman said I can’t see him, and you know—” She stared ahead, at the darkened television screen, the scattering of video game cases Michael never put away. “I was relieved. I only go at Christmas, and I take pictures of Morgan, because well, why not right?”

“Maybe that’s why it keeps coming back in December, Carly,” AJ said, and she acknowledged this with a nod. “You divorced him. You rescinded the adoption of Michael, and he has no visitation or anything else with Morgan. You don’t have to go back. Even if he wants you to. I don’t know why Jason goes at all.”

“Guilt. Obligation. It’s why I go,” Carly said. “We enabled him for years. God—” She exhaled slowly. “You’re right. He doesn’t want to see us. I don’t want to see him. Jason can do whatever he wants, but I’m done. I’m done. He never even asks about Morgan, and I know—I know that’s a coping mechanism. I know it’s his illness, but I can’t—” She jerked back to her feet, returned to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I’m not doing this to make you feel sorry for me.”

AJ frowned, folded his arms, and leaned over the counter that separated the kitchen from the small dining area. “I never said you were—”

“Please. We both know that the only reason you even heard me out three years ago was because I was a weepy, emotional mess and because you felt sorry for me.” She glared at him. “And don’t pretend I’m not right.”

“You want the truth? Yeah. I felt sorry for you. Back then. But it’s been three years. Do you think this works because I still feel sorry for you? I didn’t even know you were still having these attacks. I haven’t seen you like this in years.” He tipped his head. “You’re a good mother, and I think I’ve proved I’m a good father—”

“You have. I—” Carly exhaled slowly. “I’m mad at myself, and I’m embarrassed,” she admitted. “I look at you sometimes, and I think how much Michael loves you, and I’m just…I’m so angry with myself for—” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s not like it would have worked. I wasn’t a good person when we were married.”

“Me either,” AJ offered and she managed a half-smile. “We got married for the wrong reasons, Carly. But yeah, I wish I’d done a better job at convincing you to give me a chance. Anything to keep you from going through what Sonny — and his lunatic brother — did to you.”

She smiled weakly. “Well, it worked out, I guess. You’re back at ELQ where you belong, and I have so much more than I ever thought I’d have before. I just—I’d do anything to never think about all of it again.”

“Then don’t.” AJ straightened. “And I know just how to get your mind off it. There’s a movie Michael wanted to see. The one with the penguins. It came out last month. We’ll get the boys from Lucas and Felix, and we’ll go see it. Get dinner or something.”

Carly opened her mouth to refuse, then realized she wanted to go. She very much wanted to have a night out with her boys and…AJ. “Yeah. Okay. Let me go wash my face. That sounds like a great idea.”

Wyndham’s: Main Floor

The department store was decorated garishly for the holiday seasons, with red and gold and silver and green covering nearly every surface. Christmas music played loudly over the speaker, a singer warbling about walking in a winter wonderland —

It would be sensory overload for nearly everyone, Jason included, but not for his wife and son. Cameron had clearly inherited his mother’s love for Christmas. He tilted his head back, his eyes wide and shining at every new sight.

“Big tree—” he pointed at the Christmas tree that stood at the center of the store’s Christmas display, which rose three stories into the air and could be seen from every floor. The other floors curved around the tree — and at the bottom was Santa’s workshop with the man himself and teenagers dressed as elves near the line.

“There’s Santa, Cam…” Elizabeth put her hand on Jason’s forearm, drawing Cameron’s attention from the star at the top of the tree down to Santa Claus. Jason tightened his hold on Cameron just in case the toddler decided to leap forward.

Elizabeth had been determined to make this Christmas special for Cameron — they’d started listening to music just after Halloween, and since Thanksgiving, she’d found a new holiday special on television every night. And Cameron lapped every moment up, addicted to the idea that there was a magical guy in a red suit who came down the chimney to bring him toys. Jason didn’t really understand why, but he wasn’t going to argue about it either.

Especially not today, when she was smiling so much, practically bouncing with her excitement. Last night she’d had trouble sleeping, with dreams coming back to haunt her. There was no evidence of that restless sleep now.

“Daddy, Santa—” Cameron pointed. “Santa. I good boy? You tell him?”

“Santa knows that already,” Jason said, and Elizabeth beamed because it was the exact right answer. “There’s a list, right? For, uh, nice and naughty.”

“I nice boy.” Cameron wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and laid his head against Jason’s shoulder. “Santa know.”

He stroked Cameron’s back, wondering if all the overstimulation had tired Cameron, and if he would go down for his nap earlier than usual. “We should get in line now,” he told Elizabeth. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it through everything you planned.”

“That’s okay. As long as we get Santa, and you get the pictures.” Elizabeth led the way towards the back of the line. “You brought the camera, right?”

“It’s in your bag, yeah.” Jason shifted Cameron slightly, though he hardly felt the weight of him at all. He could still remember how small and fragile their son had been in the NICU that first day, barely four pounds. He’d gained twenty-one more pounds in almost three years — still small for his age but well within the normal range. He and Elizabeth watched those milestones like hawks, checking off every mark that showed Cameron was close to children his age.

“What are you going to ask Santa for, Cam?” Elizabeth asked, stroking Cameron’s light blond hair. “What do you want most for Christmas?”

“Puppy,” Cameron said, flashing his mother one of his sweet smiles. “I name him Teddy.”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it as Elizabeth bit her lip and their eyes met. They could and would get Cameron almost anything he asked for — but a puppy in the penthouse…With another baby on the way—fifteen flights from the nearest backyard—

“Well, you tell Santa everything you want, and we’ll see what happens,” Elizabeth said finally.

Cameron made it through his first Santa visit with aplomb. While other kids his age wailed as soon as their parents sat them down, Cameron was used to other adults picking him up, and thought nothing of it. He smiled, talked Santa’s ear off about the dog he wanted, and the little brother he thought he was getting, and maybe if there was any room left, he could get a motorcycle like his dad.

Elizabeth was closer when Santa’s elf started to lift Cameron up from Santa’s lap, so she grabbed him — something she did all the time and had since her surgery more than two years ago.

But as she took the weight of her little boy in her arms, her chest tightened, and her throat felt strange. She tried to take a deep breath—and couldn’t.

“Jase-Jason—” She held Cameron tightly, her arms almost boneless. Oh, God, what if she dropped her baby— “Can you—I need you—”

Jason had Cameron in his arms before she finished the statement, and she hurried away, knowing he’d follow.

All the Christmas atmosphere, the music, the crowds, the decoration, everything she’d loved so much just a few minutes ago, it was sweltering and overwhelming, and too much— She made her way towards the exit, the red letters over the door drawing her like a beacon—

And then she was outside, the bitter, chilled air slapping at her cheeks, and she was finally able to take a breath. A full one. She leaned over, her hands on her thighs. Took another.

“Mommy?”

“Elizabeth?”

She felt a hand on her back, and she slowly straightened, taking in deeper breaths, cherishing every single time her lungs expanded, then contracted. The way they were supposed to. “I’m okay. Really. I think—I just got dizzy, maybe.” She met Jason’s worried gaze, forced another smile. “And I thought I lost my breath. I couldn’t—I’m okay.” She stroked Cameron’s cheek. “I’m okay, baby. I’ve got my boys, don’t I?”

Cameron reached for her, his arms winding around her neck, and Elizabeth took him in her arms, holding him tight, her cheek pressed to the top of his head. Jason put a hand on her back, and another on Cameron’s, as if ready to jump into action if needed. “I’m okay.”

“I’m calling Monica when we get home,” Jason told her.

“Yeah, okay. That’s—that’s a good idea.”

Port Charles Municipal Building: District Attorney Suite

“You are not supposed to be here.”

“Neither are you,” Kelsey Joyce-Spencer grunted, then glanced up at her boss scowling in the doorway. “I thought you were in court today.”

“Yeah, that’s why you snuck in when you promised you were going to take a few days off before the trial starts.” Scott Baldwin closed the door, then came over to her desk.

“I am.” Kelsey flipped through her open case list. “But we’re going to trial on January 4, so there’s no harm in being ready—”

“Where’s Spencer? Weren’t you supposed to go away for the holidays or something? I knew that kid was no good—”

“Scott.” Kelsey set down her pen, looked up at her boss, at his familiar scowl, and sighed. He was so much like a father to her, and she knew that he felt responsible for her. That her father’s murder weighed on him still. When they’d learned Sonny had killed Oliver Joyce because of Scott’s daughter Karen— “I’m an adult. Lucky and I both decided to hold off. I have this trial coming up, and you know, he’s taking the detective’s exam this spring—”

“Should have taken it two years ago,” Scott muttered. “We pulled all the strings for them—”

“They wanted to do it fairly. And they’re all better cops for it.” Kelsey picked up her pen. “We’ll go later.”

“You know why I wanted you to do it now.”

Kelsey closed her eyes. “Yes. I know.”

“Burying yourself in work isn’t going to help. If you don’t want to go home, come by my place. Serena’s home for the holidays. You know Dad and Gail would love to have you—”

“I have no problem going home,” Kelsey said. She scowled. “I can go home right now—”

Scott gestured towards the door. “Then be my guest.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Oh, there’s my handsome prince,” Monica said with a grin, sweeping Cameron into her arms. He beamed back at her.

“Gammy here,” he reported to his father who managed a weak smile.

“Elizabeth’s upstairs. I’m making her rest,” Jason told his mother. “You’re going to tell her to rest, too, aren’t you? Because she should—”

Monica kissed Cameron’s cheek, then set him back on his feet, watching him fondly as he returned to his toys. “He’s picking up speed better, don’t you think? A few weeks ago, he was still stumbling.”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s…he’s close to where he should be—” Jason shook his head. “Don’t try to distract me.”

“I’m not.” She patted his arm. “And I’ll go up to take her vitals, but I just saw her yesterday, Jason—”

“She couldn’t breathe—” Jason broke off, shoved his hands in his pocket. “You’re going to tell me it was just a panic attack. She didn’t need oxygen afterward so that’s a good sign. And her pulse is normal.”

“See, you don’t even need me,” she teased lightly, sighing when he just scowled at her. “It’s a small blood clot, Jason. I was upset when I saw it, too,” she admitted. “But then I reviewed her last pulmonary function test a month ago, and it was almost perfect. She never came close to that last time, you know that, Jason. She wasn’t in good health before she got pregnant with Cameron. It was harder for her to fight off the symptoms. That’s not the case this time. We’ll break up this clot next week and monitor closely.”

Jason sat on the sofa, put his head in his hands. “She couldn’t breathe,” he said quietly, and she nodded, sitting next to him. “It just…it was like being back there. In that house, watching her die on that floor. In the courthouse, watching her gasp for air. All the times she couldn’t take a full breath. It just…”

“It was natural that you’d start to feel that anxiety again. She started feeling worse around this time with Cameron. But it is different this time.” She squeezed his forearm. “I needed someone to remind me of that, and so do you. We both need to be here for her.”

“I know. Yeah.” He dragged a hand over his face, looked at Cameron. “We have pictures for you. Or we will when we get copies made. He was great with Santa.”

“I’ll look forward to adding to my vast collection. Any hints on what your father and I should add to the list?”

“Well—” Jason sighed. “He wants a dog.”

“Oh.” Monica closed her mouth. “Well, good luck with that.”

Lucky & Kelsey’s Apartment: Living Room

Kelsey pushed open their front door, then switched on the light in their small hallway, the smile she’d pasted on her face fading — she didn’t need it.

The apartment was empty — Lucky, who was supposed to be home by now, was nowhere to be found. Not in their bedroom, or the second empty room. The bathroom.

Kelsey sighed, and sat on the sofa, staring at the tree stand and the artificial tree still in its box leaning against the wall. A few boxes of Christmas decorations and ornaments were strewn around. They’d planned to start decorating after Thanksgiving —

But she’d started working nights again, she thought, and he’d picked up shifts at the bar. Saving up for a summer vacation, he’d said with that smile that didn’t go all the way to his eyes anymore.

She rose to her feet, went over to the closet in the hallway, and reached for a box at the very top. It had been a silly gift, Kelsey thought, one Lucky had picked up over the summer at a discount store where decorations were on clearance for a Christmas in July sale.

She set the box on the kitchen counter, carefully folded the flap back, and lifted out the delicate Christmas ball with the words “Baby’s First Christmas” on it. She’d laughed when Lucky had snagged it from the shelf — because she could count, of course, and there was no way she’d have the baby before the holidays—

But she’d be close to the due date, so it was almost the same, Lucky had said, and this was a sign, wasn’t it?

A sign, Kelsey thought now, six months later. A sign that all would be well at the first appointment, and they’d listened to the heartbeat with giddiness.

And then at the ten-week appointment, when there’d just been nothing, and Dr. Lee had just looked at them with sad eyes. It happened often, she’d told them. And there wasn’t always a reason. Just sometimes the pregnancy just…stopped. There’d been a procedure to make sure she was okay, and that there was no tissue remaining.

And it had been okay. She’d cried, and he’d held her. They’d talked through their disappointment, and Kelsey had really thought they’d handled it well.

Until Christmas music started playing, and they’d started decorating. He’d found this box in the closet, and they’d remembered that silly day in July when the holidays had felt like the start of something. She’d wanted him to throw it away, and he’d refused.

They’d argued.

And now they didn’t speak.

Kelsey put the ornament back in its box and returned it to the closet. Scott was right, she was working too much to forget what had happened, but mostly because she didn’t know how to fix what she and Lucky had broken that day.

She looked again at the living room, at the Christmas tree waiting to be constructed, to be decorated, then went into her bedroom where she didn’t have to look at any of it.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

After dinner, Jason and Elizabeth focused on Cameron, distracting themselves from the worry with his evening routine.

It was a comforting one, Elizabeth thought, as Jason bathed him, and she was waiting with a fluffy towel to cuddle with her son and dress him in his pajamas while Jason cleaned up the bathroom. Then it was time for Cam’s bedtime story, with Jason sitting on the side of the bed, reading a chapter from their book, and Elizabeth at the foot, trying hard not to hover.

They didn’t manage it every night—sometimes she’d had late classes, and he’d had meetings, but as often as they could — bedtime was for their family. Every moment with Cameron was precious to Elizabeth, and she knew Jason felt the same. They’d come too close to losing him not to savor every minute, every milestone.

But as soon as Cameron drifted into sleep, Elizabeth knew they had to talk about what had happened at the department store, and what would happen next week. Elizabeth didn’t think that they were going to be able to ignore it after all. But she was going to try anyway.

In their bedroom, Jason had lit the fireplace in the corner—for her, she knew. He didn’t feel the chill in the air the way she did at night. She sat at her vanity table, looked at her appearance reflecting back, laying a hand against her chest. Her heart was beating as it should, it didn’t hurt to breathe, and she didn’t feel any restriction when she tried.

And yet, somewhere in her lungs, there was a blood clot. It had formed despite all the precautions she’d taken, all the medication she’d put into her body. A lifetime sentence of blood thinners to stop the CTEPH from taking over her life again.

But the clot was there. And it could kill her. It could kill her baby.

She exhaled slowly, looked in the mirror again, saw Jason across the room. He’d changed into his usual sweats for sleeping and was dumping his clothes in the hamper. He was so beloved to her, so dear. And she’d put him through hell the last time she’d been sick. She’d nearly destroyed their marriage, so determined to go as far as she could before delivering Cameron.

Not this time. She wouldn’t let this take over her life again. Their lives.

“What are we doing to do about the dog?” Elizabeth asked, forcing a smile. “It’s the first thing he’s ever wanted that I’m not sure we can deliver.”

Jason sat on the edge of the bed. “And if I know you, you’re already thinking about how we can.”

Her smile deepened, more genuine now, and she turned to face him, her toes sinking into the plush carpet beneath her feet. “There are small breeds, you know, that are good for kids. And if we got him one now, he might have the dog until he’s in high school. They could grow up together.”

“Fifteen flights. Are we going to take the dog down in the elevator every time he needs to be walked, to go to the bathroom? A puppy?” Jason reminded her.

“I know all the reasons we shouldn’t.” Elizabeth sat next to him, relaxing when he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close. “And I know what I’m about to say is absolutely insane because of my health, the baby, and the fact that I have the internship this spring, but with Cameron running around now…” She bit her lip. “Is it crazy to think about moving? To a house?”

Jason was quiet for a long moment, then sighed. “I don’t know how to say no to you. It’s starting to be a problem.”

She bit her lip, drew back from him. “You can, you know. If this is really a bad time—and I know how safe this place is—”

“I can make anywhere safe. And if we get the dog now, he’ll be trained and housebroken by the time the baby is born.” Jason slid his fingers through her hair. “Can I convince you to wait until after next week? We can think of a way to explain it to Cameron.”

“I can live with that.” She kissed him, sliding her hand down his chest. “Is there anything else I can talk you into?”

“The answer to that,” he murmured, “is always yes.”

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