Tell me you don’t wanna leave
‘Cause if change is what you need
You can change right next to me
When you’re high, I’ll take the lows
You can ebb and I can flow
We’ll take it slow
And grow as we go
– Grow We Go, Ben Platt
Friday, December 19, 2003
Kelly’s: Diner
“Ma, the last place I want to be is Bensonhurst for Christmas,” Dante snapped into his phone, putting up a finger at Lulu to ask for another minute before she took his order.
Lulu pursed her lips, shrugged, then wandered over to check on her other tables. By the time she came back, Dante had hung up the phone and was glaring at the menu. “The usual?” she asked.
“No. I don’t want a burger tonight—” Dante took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.”
“Used to it.” Lulu poured some water into his glass. “Besides, I just found out I passed all my finals—including math—so nothing can ruin my mood.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except now, I need to take algebra, which sucks.”
Dante set the menu aside. “What about chili?”
“You’re feeling adventurous tonight,” Lulu said, scribbling it on the order pad and then turned it over to the kitchen. “Uh, not that I meant to eavesdrop—but your mom wanted you to go to Bensonhurst for Christmas?”
“I told her no,” Dante said. He nodded at her. “What are you doing for Christmas? You, and uh, Dillon have anything planned?”
“No, I’m working basically every day, and he’s working on the script for a contest in his department.” Lulu picked up the coffee pot. “Be right back.”
He reached for a newspaper someone left on the counter, then winced, realizing it was the Sun. The cover story was about Sonny—no surprise there. This paper was nothing but tabloid trash—
“You’d think they’d find something else to worry about,” Lulu said as she passed by him with a plate. “I think it’s good that Carly left him.”
Dante scowled but waited for her to come back to the counter. “Why?”
“Well, things were fine between them before she got kidnapped, but my Aunt Bobbie says Sonny has been a giant tool ever since she came home. It’s complicated,” Lulu said. “But basically, no one in my family is all that sad about this.” She picked up the paper. “And you know you can’t trust the Sun anyway. Look at what they did to Elizabeth last summer.”
“You know Sonny Corinthos well?” Dante asked. “Your brother said he was a family friend.”
“More when I was a kid.” Lulu went to get his dinner order and set it down. “Lucky was tight with my Dad, and Dad and Sonny were besties for a while. Mom did not like him, but Lucky thought he was a good guy.” She pursed her lips. “At least until Sonny lost his wife. Dad always said something in Sonny just broke when Lily died. I mean, she wasn’t the love of his life or anything, but she was pregnant. And the bomb was meant for him.”
“I guess that would be hard for anyone,” Dante said quietly.
“Why all the interest in Sonny, anyway? Are you just trying to avoid me asking why you won’t go home with your mother for Christmas?” Lulu asked.
Dante smiled weakly. “Got me,” he lied. “My grandmother apologized for—” He rubbed his face. “And I know Ma says she believes Vinnie’s guilty—that’s the same thing as forgiving me for testifying. You don’t snitch on family. Number one rule.”
Lulu rolled her eyes. “Well, you should be able to snitch if they’re monsters. So your mother is going alone? Sucks for her.” She sighed. “Back to work. I hate the dinner rush.”
Dante watched her go, then looked down at his phone with a sigh. It would suck for his ma to be all by herself in Bensonhurst for the holidays.
Damn it.
The Cellar: Main Club
Carly frowned and shook her head. “No, Jen, I think we might want to think more silver and greens. Less gold—” She stepped back from the decorations over the bar and tilted her head. “Yeah, definitely. The gold looks garish in the lighting after a while—”
Her assistant manager shrugged and made a note. “All right, Mrs. C. I’ll go put the note in. We’ll get this place ready for Christmas Eve.”
“Thanks, Jen—” Carly broke off abruptly as Sonny stepped off the bottom stair, passing Jenny as she went upstairs. She cleared her throat, then went behind the bar to get a glass of water from the cooler. “We’re not open yet.”
“No, I know—”
“What do you want, Sonny?”
“I thought we could talk alone—your mother is always right there—” Sonny stopped just before the bar as Carly took a step back. “Carly, what do you think I’m going to do to you?” he demanded. “I told you I was sorry—”
“Is that what Deke said to your mother?” Carly said coolly. She watched his eyes flicker, then shut down. “He said he was sorry, right? And she believed him.”
“Don’t compare me to my stepfather,” Sonny snapped. “I’m nothing like him—”
“No. Not yet.” Carefully, Carly took a drink of her water, then set it on the bar. “But I think you can see why I can’t trust that. I asked you to get help. To talk to someone. Have you?”
“No—but I don’t have to do that. I’m fine now. I know that I need to relax about Ric, and I’m doing that—”
“You’re doing that because I’m not giving you a choice. I left. I’m not under your control anymore.” Carly stepped out from behind the bar, still keeping at least five feet between them. “So if that’s everything—”
“I want to see the boys for Christmas. They can stay at the penthouse for a few days,” Sonny added, and his scowl deepened when Carly shook her head. “Damn it, Carly, they’re my kids, too—”
“I don’t trust you,” Carly said. “I don’t trust you to be alone with the boys. Morgan’s too young, and I don’t think you’d let Michael leave again without being forced. So, no. You can come to the Brownstone on Christmas Day or the day after. As long as Jason comes with you.”
“I don’t need a damn babysitter—” Even as Sonny took a step forward, Carly stepped back. His face drained of color. “Carly—”
“I told you, Sonny. I don’t trust you. Not anymore. Not without help. Because this is what you do. You keep yourself together for a while, and then something goes wrong—and you can’t handle it. And it happens all over again. It’s getting worse. Last summer, you hallucinated. A week ago, you shoved a pregnant woman and locked me in our bedroom—what’s next, Sonny?”
Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated in a quiet voice. “This isn’t what I wanted, and I tried—I tried over and over again to be what you needed. I gave you everything, and you gave me nothing. You just—you put me through hell. You put me back in that room, and you don’t seem to understand—”
“I do—Carly, I understand, I just—I want us to get past this—”
“Then get help. Real help,” Carly retorted. “Not Jason, not me. And not drinking. Get some real help. And maybe we can talk. Until then—I’m going to ask you to leave.”
“Carly—”
“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops,” Carly said. “It’s the dinner rush. I’m sure there’s at least one cop upstairs. I don’t want to be around you, Sonny. Not by myself. Not until you do what I asked.”
Sonny glared at her another minute, then stalked away. Carly exhaled slowly, then went back to work.
PCPD: Squad Room
Taggert scowled and stalked over to Capelli’s desk, slapping down a memo. “What is this?’
Capelli sat up, dropping his feet from the desk to the floor, frowning at the piece of paper. “Uh, it looks like the list of warrants I asked for from the judge. Why do you have it?” he demanded.
“Because they all got kicked back, and as the ranking officer—”
“You’re not my ranking officer—” Capelli shoved himself to his feet, lifting his chin. “You couldn’t hack it here—”
“I still outrank you, Capelli. The judge kicked all three of these back for shitty evidence—” Taggert picked up the memo and slapped it against Capelli’s chest. “What if one of them had gotten through?”
“Uh—” Capelli squinted. “I would have raided the goddamn club, and we’d finally be able to arrest Corinthos and Morgan,” he retorted. “I know they’re your new best friends—”
“You don’t have the evidence for these raids, asshole! You keep pushing for warrants like this, and one of them gets through on this bullshit evidence, Justus Ward will file that harassment suit he’s been threatening for months!”
“Let him—” Capelli pushed Taggert back. “I don’t give a shit—”
“You will when you get the department back in the papers! We’re just digging out from your bullshit last summer—” Taggert jabbed a finger hard in Capelli’s chest. “You keep pushing for these warrants, I’ll tell Anna to reassign you—”
“Fuck you, Taggert! Why don’t you go kiss some more ass and get another fucking shiny promotion you didn’t earn! You didn’t solve the Lansing case either! You’re just pissed because I shook that case loose!”
“Shook it—you got an innocent woman thrown across her living room—”
“What on Earth is going on here?” Anna demanded coldly as she pushed between the two of them. She sent Taggert a hot look before glaring at Capelli. “Why are two of my ranking officers screaming at each other like kindergarteners?”
“Ask this dick!” Capelli retorted. “He’s the one jumping down my throat—”
“He’s pushing for warrants that he can’t prove—the department is going to get sued—”
Anna scowled at Taggert, and he closed his mouth. She looked at Capelli. “Explain,” she said, her tone clipped.
“He’s just pissed because I might finally get Corinthos and Morgan—”
“Tell me about the warrants, Detective,” Anna cut in, her voice slicing through Capelli’s bluster like a knife. “Did you apply for warrants without solid evidence?”
“It would have been solid enough for some judges,” Capelli muttered. “We got a few informants—”
“For some judges? That’s not good enough, Detective. When we turn over cases to the DA’s office, they need to be rock solid. Unimpeachable. I don’t want anything a defense attorney can rip to shreds in preliminary hearings.” She narrowed her eyes. “How many warrants have you wasted the court’s time with?”
Capelli scowled. “This time it was three—”
“And last month it was six—” Taggert snarled.
“Nine warrants in less than two months that have been rejected?’ Anna pursed her lips. “You’ll be putting your warrants through me—’”
“Fuck this—”
“If you don’t like that, then perhaps I should simply write you up for negligence and recommend you for retraining,” she said coolly. “Pick your poison, Detective. Either way, I’ll expect your next warrant request on my desk. Otherwise, it’s a thirty-day rip—and you can’t afford another one before next July.”
Capelli scowled, but Anna’s arched brow dared him to say anything else. He growled, picked up a file, tossed Taggert a nasty look, then stalked away.
“Thanks—”
“And you,” Anna said, turning to face him. “My office. Now.”
Taggert grimaced but followed the commissioner down the hall and into her office. “Look, I’m sorry—”
“If you have a problem with a fellow officer’s work, then you bring that concern to me. I won’t have any more problems slipping through the cracks, Lieutenant.” Anna stood behind her desk, folded her arms. “I am aware that the Organized Crime Unit is quite badly run. To be honest, it wasn’t much better when you were in charge.”
Taggert winced. “It’s complicated—”
“Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan are relatively sophisticated criminals who rarely take a wrong step. I understand that must have been frustrating. But you—and Capelli—both made the same mistake. You focused on the kingpins. You should have chipped away at the organization from the edges.” She took a seat. “It’s how we took down Frank Smith, Victor Jerome, and nearly every other criminal when I worked here—”
“With all due respect, Anna, Corinthos and Morgan aren’t like anyone you knew before—”
“You’d be surprised.” She picked up a pen, tapped it against the blotter. “Was it really the department you were protecting out there?”
“Of course,” Taggert replied, frowning. “We can’t afford any more bad press—”
“I am aware that the department has had a close working relationship with Elizabeth Webber over the last six months. Which meant a certain amount of contact with Jason Morgan. Are you sure that’s not clouding your judgment?”
“Are you suggesting I’m not a good cop?”
“No. I’m suggesting that your affection for Elizabeth Webber might be a hindrance. I looked over the Esposito case. You waited to interview her last, but it was her interview that allowed you to determine she was the first victim. You could have known that two months earlier—”
“With all due respect, Anna, if I had asked Elizabeth to give me a statement about her rape in July, Justus Ward would have shut us down. And I don’t think she was capable of it. You weren’t here then.” Taggert folded his arms. “She was barely out of the hospital before Brooke Lynn Ashton swallowed a fistful of pills, and from what I heard—still having panic attacks of her own. She had to go into therapy. She could not emotionally have given us the statement we got in September if I’d gone to her in July.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, that’s so. There was nothing in the profile that indicated the rapist was targeting specific women — he had a physical and geographical profile — and other than Brooke and Elizabeth, no prior relationship or knowledge. I had no reason to think she was anything other than a random victim. And until her kit came back, I didn’t think I had enough to move forward with her case legally.”
Anna leaned back in her chair, tipping her head to the side. “Very good.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve read some of the newspaper coverage — the suggestions that Elizabeth had special treatment from the department to avoid a lawsuit for Capelli’s actions—” Anna picked up her reading glasses, slid them on. “And Capelli himself mentioned them when he recently petitioned to have the suspension expunged, claiming that his actions had been sanctioned by the commissioner and resulted in investigative leads—”
“Bullshit—the only thing it did was get Ric Lansing arrested so that Elizabeth could find the panic room. The PCPD had zero to do with finding Carly Corinthos in July. And we could have lost our star witness—” Taggert growled as the rest of her statement sank in. “He’s trying to have the suspension lifted?”
“Trying. He won’t succeed.” Anna removed her reading glasses. “I might not have waited until the results came back. But you’re right, I wasn’t here. And if I had been—if I had felt responsible for the physical condition she was in—I might have made the same choices. Which is precisely what I’ll say to the board if it comes to that.”
Taggert exhaled slowly. “I made mistakes with her original case, Anna. Not like Mac did—but I made mistakes. And then I didn’t do more when Carly went missing. Elizabeth nearly died. I couldn’t see dragging any of this up for her if we couldn’t go forward. Without a DNA match, no DA would have ever taken that case.”
“Capelli is not a great cop,” Anna said after a moment. “He’s passable, at best. He suffers from tunnel vision. Now, either he’ll improve or he won’t. But that’s for me to deal with. Not you. No more fights in my squad room. Is that understood?”
“Understood.” Taggert went to the doorway, then looked back. “I left Organized Crime because I wasn’t much better than Capelli. The Lansing case — it made me realize I’d forgotten why I was doing this job. So, yeah, I got an affection for Elizabeth. And for Carly. They gave me back my perspective. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to keep doing this.”
Kelly’s: Parking Lot
“We could just get take out,” Jason reminded Elizabeth as she stepped out of the SUV. He held her hand to help her navigate over the small spots of ice. “You could stay in the car—”
“I’ve barely been out of the house since our appointment,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve done everything Kelly and Monica told me to do. I’m resting. I haven’t needed my oxygen tank—”
He turned to her, and she could still see his brow raised in the dim lighting of the courtyard. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Okay, so yeah, I’m still having trouble taking a full breath,” she muttered. “But it’s probably just a side effect—and I’m supposed to be tired all the time—”
“I know—”
“And some exercise and fresh air is good for me—”
“All right, all right—” Jason shook his head but smiled at her. “I just—I just want you to be okay.” He smoothed a thumb over her cheekbone. “But you’re right, and we’re already here—”
Elizabeth beamed at him. “Great. Because I want some chili—and a huge plate of fries—” She turned away from him and started towards the door, stopping with some surprise as a familiar figure stepped out of the diner. “Oh—”
“Robin.” Jason blinked, then cleared his throat. “I—I didn’t know you were in town.”
Robin smiled briefly at them, letting the door swing closed behind her. She raised her brown paper bag. “Had to get some chili. I’m here for Christmas. Mom’s based out of PC now, so—” She shrugged. “You look good, Jase. It’s been a while.”
“Uh, yeah—” Jason rubbed the back of his neck. It had been almost four years since he’d told Robin he never wanted to see her face again, and she’d left town. “You—you remember Elizabeth?”
“I do. Hey. Mac said you guys were together now.” Robin smiled at her with genuine warmth. “We didn’t know each other well when I lived here, but I remember you.”
“How’s Paris?” Elizabeth asked. “Are you still working there?”
“For another year. I’m almost done my residency—finally.” Robin hesitated. “Do you mind, Elizabeth, if Jason and I—could we have a minute?”
“Oh. Sure.” Elizabeth smiled at him.
“Wait—”
“I’m fine,” she stressed to him. She kissed his cheek. “There’s probably like ten people inside that I know, and I’ll go ahead and order dinner. I’ll get your usual. It was nice seeing you, Robin.”
Jason frowned as she walked past Robin, the bell jangling over the door. He looked at Robin, squinting. “What did you need?”
“I just—I don’t want it to be awkward like this.” Robin took a step towards him. “I mean, we’ve both moved on, right? Mac told me you and Elizabeth are having a baby. I’m—” Her dark eyes searched his. “I’m excited for you. Really. I know how much you loved Michael. And Elizabeth—she seems nice. You look happy.”
“I am.” Jason exhaled, then nodded. “You look happy, too. And I’m glad you like Paris. You always did.”
“Alan asked me about coming to GH after my residency,” Robin told him. “And I’d like to come home. I missed so much time with my mother—I don’t want to miss more. So—we’re good?” she asked.
“We’re good. You—we both made mistakes back then,” Jason continued. “Most of them were mine.”
“I could have handled things better,” Robin admitted. “But I was young. And stupid. I’m glad it worked out, Jase. For both of us. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
He watched her leave the courtyard, heading towards the parking lot, then went into the diner where Elizabeth had taken a back table, smiling and talking to Dillon at the counter.
He hung his jacket up, then joined her at the table. “Hey. Did you order?”
“I did.” Elizabeth picked up her water, focused on him. “How’s Robin?”
“Good. She just—” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Wanted to clear the air. She’s probably going to work at GH after her residency, and we left things on a…” He hesitated. “I told her I never wanted to see her face again.”
Elizabeth raised her brows, then nodded. “Well, yeah, I guess I get that—she did blow things up with Michael on her way out of town. Emily was horrified by it, but I was incredibly entertained.” She smirked as Jason scowled. “She did what a lot of us dream about doing — blowing up the life of someone who hurt us, especially an ex-boyfriend.” She shrugged. “We were both on Robin’s side.”
Jason frowned, surprised by that. “My sister and you—” He couldn’t quite process it.
“Jason.” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “You asked Robin to let the entire town think you cheated on her with Carly, and then you let Carly move in with you guys when she got home. You broke up with Robin like five minutes later. I mean, look, my opinion of Carly is different now, but Emily hated Carly. Still probably does. And…” she shrugged. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing Robin did.”
Jason sat back, a bit taken aback by that. “I—”
“What, are you going to tell me you were fair to Robin that whole year?” Elizabeth arched a slim brow. “That you don’t understand why she popped off that way? Like I said, she lived every woman’s dream. You dumped her, and she gave you the finger on her way out.”
Jason shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It wasn’t—” He grimaced. “I made mistakes,” he muttered.
“I know losing Michael hurt. Especially the way you lost him,” Elizabeth added, softening her voice. “And I got to see that side of you later. I’m just saying—when it first happened, I definitely didn’t think that well of you. I know you better now.”
“I know I should regret it—but I’m not sorry for that year with Michael,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I’m just sorry I hurt Robin. I’d change that if I could.”
“Well, then I’m glad she’s thinking of moving back. The hospital will be lucky to have her, and I know you guys were close once.” Elizabeth pointed a straw at him with a mocking look. “But you’re not moving in any former girlfriends. I’m not that nice.”
Jason laughed. “No, that’s definitely a mistake I don’t plan on making again.” He took her hand in his, sliding his thumb over her engagement ring. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”
“It’s nice to have a reason to. I’m excited for Christmas,” she told him. “And for the wedding, and the baby—it just feels like things are finally coming together.”
Kelsey’s Apartment: Kitchen
Kelsey took a deep breath and pressed her mother’s number on her speed dial. “All right, let’s see if she wants to come for Christmas,” she said to Lucky at the sink. She put the call on speakerphone.
“Mom! Hey!”
“Hey, baby.” Angela Joyce’s was warm and friendly. “What’s the occasion? You don’t usually call until the weekend.”
“Well, you’re on speaker,” Kelsey said. “Lucky’s here.”
“Hey, Ms. Joyce.”
“Why am I on—oh, are you engaged?” Angela demanded. “Are you getting married?”
Lucky’s face drained of color so fast that Kelsey snickered. “No, Mom. We’re not getting married. We’ve only been dating for five months. We were talking about Christmas.”
“Oh, well, Lucky is welcome to join us if you want—”
“Well, actually, Mom, Lucky and I were thinking maybe you’d come to Port Charles. You know, since his mom just got home—”
“Kelsey. Take me off speakerphone.”
Surprised by her mother’s sharp tone, Kelsey flashed Lucky a confused look, then obeyed. “Mom?”
“I came to Port Charles after you were hurt. Wasn’t that enough?”
“No, I—I know. I just—I thought since you came then, and, well—Lucky’s mom was gone for almost a year. He wants to spend Christmas with her—”
“Then let him do that, and you come here. Like every other year. I’ve told you how I feel about Port Charles.” Angela sighed. “I’m sorry, baby, I know I got your hopes up, and I don’t want to make trouble for you. I like Lucky—”
“I know you do, Mom.” Kelsey bit her lip. “It was just an idea. I’ll come to Buffalo like always, and Lucky can be with his family.”
“You—you could stay if you wanted—”
“Not this year. Maybe next year—we’ll trade off or something. Let’s cross that bridge when we get there.” She talked to her mother for a couple more minutes, then closed her cell phone. Stared at it. “Well, that was a disaster.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d be so upset.” Lucky kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. You’ll spend this year with your mom, and then next year—if we need to talk about it, we’ll figure it out then.”
“I just—it’s just me and her, Lucky. And I feel bad now because she’s upset—”
“Kelse—” He kissed her, cutting off her protest. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Moms are important. We’ll do something with my family another time.”
“I love you,” she said. She kissed him again. “I need to finish some paperwork for court tomorrow—but—thank you for understanding.”
“I guess it’s a little surprising your mom is this upset over a car accident a decade ago,” Lucky said, “but I get it. My dad always falls apart when my mom isn’t around. She must have loved him.”
“Yeah, she did. And he was a great guy. I wish you’d known him.” Kelsey smiled wistfully. “It’s nice that your parents did. I can’t wait to hear more stories. I bet he really hated your dad back in the day.”
“Most people did,” Lucky said with a grin. “Go finish your paperwork—I’ll deal with the dishes.”
Kelly’s: Diner
“I really wish I didn’t have to close,” Lulu said with a sigh as she stifled a yawn. “No one’s ever here after ten, and still, I gotta stay until eleven. It’s a crime.”
“At least you’re being paid.” Dillon rolled his shoulder, stretched out his arm. “I’m probably gonna rent off-campus next semester. Getting tired of sneaking you past Alice.”
“Sneaking me—” Lulu rolled her eyes, then picked up another set of utensils to wrap in a napkin for the morning shift. “You’re an adult, Dillon. Why can’t we just got upstairs like normal people?”
“Uh, considering the fact that you won’t even let me cross the threshold in your house, that’s hypocritical.” Dillon wrinkled his nose. “I’ve barely met your mother.”
“Well, my father definitely would throw you out the window if he caught you, so I guess it’s about perspective.” Lulu picked up a coffee pot and wandered over to check on her last, lingering customer.
Dillon saw her cell phone light up with a text message, and his eye caught the return name — Dante. He frowned. Since when was Lulu close enough to her brother’s partner that she had his contact info saved?
He reached for her phone, flipped it open. “Took your advice,” he read as Lulu returned to the counter. “You were right. Again.”
Lulu snatched her phone back. “Hey, what’s your damage?”
“What’s my—you’re the one getting texts from other guys.” Dante nodded towards the phone. “What’s he talking about? What were you right about? And why again?”
“Nothing—I mean, nothing important—” Lulu’s cheeks flushed, and Dillon scowled. “Nothing,” she repeated. “He just—he was here earlier for dinner, and on the phone with his mother. She wanted him to go to New York for Christmas. I didn’t even really say anything to him—”
“And what about ‘again’?”
“What does it matter? We talked about his testimony at the hearing,” Lulu snapped. “He’s a friend. God, Dillon. I barely know him—”
“You know him enough to have his contact info in your phone. I’ve seen him looking at you—”
“Well, I’m hot,” Lulu retorted. “Everyone looks at me. I have a great ass. You’ve told me—”
“That is—” Dillon paused. “That is not the point,” he hissed. “I’ve seen you look at him—”
“Oh, for the love of—he’s a friend,” she repeated. “Do you see me throwing tantrums when you talk to Georgie? You actually dated her. This is just someone I talk to here at Kelly’s.”
Dillon got to his feet, then shoved his laptop into his bag. “You can’t even admit it—”
“Admit what?”
“I’m going home. I’m not in the mood to hang out,” he said. “Good night.”
“Good night to you,” Lulu called after him. “Asshole.” She scowled when her last customer frowned at her. “What’s your problem? Go home and stop drinking coffee!”
Morgan Penthouse: Living Room
Elizabeth handed her coat to Jason and frowned at the pile of mail on the desk. “Do you feel like the mail is getting here later and later?” she asked, picking up the stack and sorting through it.
“I think Wally’s just not sending it up until later.” Jason hung their jackets in the closet. “It’s usually junk—” He frowned when he saw her pause on a red envelope. “What is it?”
“A Christmas card. It’s postmarked from South Africa.” Elizabeth sighed, spreading her fingers over the address label. “That’s where my parents are now. They mailed this to my grandmother’s house.”
“I thought the house was sold—” Jason sighed, then nodded. “Because they didn’t have a forwarding address.”
“I wrote them a few times—from the condo and when I moved in here.” She set the other pieces of mail down on the desk and walked over the sofa, the card in her hands. “We haven’t seen each other since they left for Bosnia back when I was in high school. They were in Sarajevo, then London for a while. I think there was a stint in Belarus, but Sarah told me they’d been in South Africa for the last year.”
“At least they sent a card,” Jason said. He sat next to her. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”
“Yeah, but you’re right. They sent something.” She opened the seal on the envelope. “I wrote them when I found out about the baby,” she told him. “Maybe—”
But it was a generic Happy Holidays card. Inside, someone had written the year in the top right corner, then Elizabeth’s name over a bland ‘Have a wonderful holiday season!’ message. They’d signed it From Mom and Dad.
He took the card from her, scowling at it, turning it over. “That’s it?”
“That’s it. Same thing as last year.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know why I keep getting my hopes up. Doesn’t matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t,” she told Jason. “Last year—God, last year, it decimated me. I was already feeling like crap. I was alone, and then this stupid card came—and it just felt like proof that no one loved me. That I didn’t matter.”
Elizabeth reached out, touched his arm. “That’s not a criticism on you, Jason. That’s just a description of what I was dealing with. This year? It sucks. But it’s their loss. Because that’s it. Ignoring my child—again—it’s the last time I’m going to let them disappoint me.”
She snuggled into his embrace, and he slid his hands through her hair, combing his fingers through the strands the way he always did. “I have you. I have Emily, Nikolas, Bobbie. I have people who love me. And we’re getting married. We’re making a family of our own. I don’t need them to love me anymore. I have all the love that matters.” She leaned up, kissed him.
Jason kissed her back, tracing her jaw with his thumb. “Well, then, I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“Why don’t we go upstairs?” she murmured, sliding her hand down his chest and grinning. “And I’ll show you how much I love you?”
