March 4, 2024

This entry is part 2 of 39 in the Fool Me Twice: Ashes to Ashes

Fell in love with my aggression
But I think you learned your lesson
I’m intense, your stare is self-defense

Don’t blame me now you’re all fucked up
I’m the same me that you wanted tucked up in your bed
Now, you want a bullet in your head

Warning Shots, Gabbie Hanna


Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Metro Court: Restaurant

He was getting tired of the pariah treatment.

The hostess that had shown Franco Baldwin to his father’s table had given him a dirty look, and the expressions on the other diners in restaurant weren’t much better. Years of cultivating a better reputation demolished in a single night.

It put him in a rotten mood which only got worse when his father refused to pick up on any of the hints Franco had been dropping since they’d sat down to breakfast. How many damn times did Franco have to ask about the stupid party before Scott just told Franco what he wanted to know?

Scott sipped his coffee. “It’s a shame you couldn’t come—”

“Don’t act like I was invited, Pops.” Franco snorted, digging his fork into the home fries. “I am back to persona non grata in this damn place—”

“Well, what did you think was going to happen when you got into a fight with a teenager?” Scott demanded. “Franco, I told you that wasn’t going to make things easier. Why didn’t you take my advice and go back to New York? Or Rochester? Or anywhere that wasn’t filled with people who have bad memories of you—”

“If you want me gone, just say that—”

“That’s not—” Scott pressed his lips together. “I just think maybe you’ve burned a few too many bridges around here,” he said carefully. “And you might feel better with a fresh start. Robert Frank has a bad reputation — Franco Baldwin doesn’t—and you had that art show a few months ago. It went pretty well. You could start over somewhere else.”

Franco tipped his head. “I’ll grant you that I don’t have many friends here. But I have Ava and Nina. There’s Kiki. You, when you’re not annoyed with me.” He picked up his coffee. “I guess I’m just frustrated. I feel like Elizabeth and I could have resolved our issues if Jason Morgan hadn’t popped up like a goddamn Whack-a-Mole and reminded her of all the bad things I’ve done—”

“Franco, that’s not why—”

“I could have gotten around her if it wasn’t for him,” Franco muttered. “And now I’m going out of my mind wondering if she’s been dragged back into all of this. He’s going to hurt her, Pops, just like he always does. You don’t know—”

“Franco—what’s between the two of them is between them. Elizabeth has made it very clear she doesn’t want you in her life. You need to let it go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He considered his next question carefully because Scott wasn’t going to stay on the topic much longer without getting really irritated. Or suspicious. “Okay, look, just—tell me straight, okay? If you know. Are they together? So I can prepare myself,” he added hastily. “I don’t want to just—see them. I want to be ready.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Scott said slowly. “But they were at the party, and they left together. That’s all I know.”

Franco made a face, then looked back at his plate. That wasn’t much more than he already knew. But it was Jason Morgan, wasn’t it? He’d leave her for Sam. Didn’t he always? Elizabeth had confessed how much it hurt and how she’d lied to protect herself from that — so Franco just had to bide his time and hope that when it finally came crashing down, he’d be there.

Now, whether he’d want to pick up the pieces or grind them into the ground — well, he hadn’t made up his mind on that. Only time would tell which Elizabeth deserved.

Morgan’s Auto: Lobby

Elizabeth Webber did a slow turn around the garage’s lobby, taking in the dreary concrete walls, the rundown counter, and the stains on the floor. “I know you’re not into interior decorating, but—”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason Morgan folded his arms, leaned against the doorframe that separated the lobby from the office area in the back. “I should probably do something about that before it opens.”

“You know, some people are into the ruined look.” She stripped off her jacket, tossed it over the counter, then laughed. “Oh my God. How old is that computer?”

“Spinelli wants to keep it.” Jason came to her side as they looked at the ancient monitor that was roughly the size of an old television. It had probably been white in a former life, but now looked like it was coated with a thick layer of orange…something. The keyboard didn’t look much better, and the tower that sat next to it still had a drive for floppy disks. “He says it might be historically significant.”

She snorted. “He probably wants to put it in a glass case.” She ran a finger down the counter, wincing at the grime. “We’re not doing this all ourselves, are we?”

“Relax.” Jason’s hands came down on her shoulders and she leaned back against him. “I’m going to ask Carly to handle the customer service areas. She’ll know who to call for all of this and make it look…”

“Habitable?” Elizabeth said. He laughed. “That’s a great idea. You’ll make her really happy.”

“Silver lining. Thank you.”

“For what?” Elizabeth turned in his arms, raised her brows. “For not turning and running the minute I saw the lobby? You know, you were only concerned with the garage bays when we were looking. I don’t think we even considered the rest of the building.”

“No, thank you for putting up with Carly. I know it’s not easy—”

“Carly lashes out when she’s hurt.” Elizabeth shrugged and went towards the office area. Behind the door was a long thin hallway that opened into what would be Jason’s office, a space for a staff room, and a bathroom at the end. The door to that room was open, and she could see the grimy tile from here. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere near that toilet.”

“I’ll have it replaced. About Carly—”

“Jason. Carly and I will never be friends, but we understand each other. Yeah, what happened last month—that was bad. But are we really going to pretend that I don’t do that, too?”

Jason made a face. “You’re not like Carly.”

“Oh, please.” She folded her arms. “I never said anything cruel to you when I was angry? I never wanted to hurt you the way I was hurting? Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I hurt you, too—”

“And that’s why we forgive each other, right? Carly wanted to hurt me, Jason. To push me away, so you’d need her. And she knew what buttons to push. You don’t have to worry about that. We talked about it on New Year’s, and I think she’s really going to try this time. You’re going to make her entire day asking for help with something she can do better than I ever could. She’ll make this place look great, and every time she comes here, she’ll see it and remember that you asked her.”

“I’d ask her for more if I thought she wouldn’t go overboard and do too much.” Jason sighed, then shook his head. “But you’re right. It needs to be done and she’ll do a great job. And we’ll be able to concentrate on everything else.”

“Speaking of which, I got a message from Lucky,” Elizabeth said. She went back into the lobby to find her cell phone. “He and Luke landed in Istanbul this morning. Luke’s working on the addresses Spinelli gave him, and Lucky’s going to hook up with Spinelli to help with the files.”

Jason rubbed his chest. “I hate that we’re letting them handle Valentin. Do you really trust them?”

“Luke and Lucky? I don’t see a reason not to.” Elizabeth frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t like that the WSB couldn’t send someone else—”

“Luke’s got WSB contacts all over the world. Look, he’s not my favorite person, and neither is Lucky. But that’s personal. This is, well, this is business, I guess. They brought Jake home, didn’t they?”

“And I still don’t like how that happened. Helena just handed him over, and Luke wasn’t curious why?”

“Well, we know why now. Because she intended to send that box of magic tricks to Jake and trigger the Chimera toxin. I don’t know how Luke or Lucky could have known that before it happened—” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “What exactly do you think they’re going to do in Turkey?”

“Lucky waited more than two years to tell you it was Nikolas that sent him to Greece where he found Jake. As soon as we found that out, didn’t we start asking questions about Nikolas’s involvement? And Helena’s video confirmed it.”

“I—” She exhaled slowly and looked away. He grimaced. Maybe he shouldn’t be pushing this, but he hated that Elizabeth still had any measure of blind faith in the Spencer men after the way they’d manipulated her all her life.

“And if Helena wasn’t just bluffing, if Nikolas involved, then he could have known about Chimera—”

“Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t. I can’t—I can’t believe he knew Jake was in danger and said nothing.” She wrapped her arms around her upper torso, troubled. “I know that he was struggling those last few years. That something dark was swirling. He kept so many secrets, Jason. I don’t know when it started. Or why. Even when I thought we were telling the same lies, I always knew there was something more he was keeping.”

“Hey.” Jason took her in his arms, relieved when she came willingly. He pressed his cheek to her hair. “I’m sorry. I know how much he mattered to you, that it hurts to think he kept Jake from you.”

“I just—it’s so hard to accept. I know, logically, if he was the one that sent Lucky to Greece, he must have known something. But I just—I guess until I have something in front of me that proves it, I can’t let go of who he used to be.”

Jason hoped, for Elizabeth and for Laura, that they never found that hard proof, but he had a sinking feeling that the Cassadine prince had been twisted up in all of this more than they could ever prove. He drew back so that he could see her face. “I didn’t mean to bring that all up. It’s like I said — we didn’t need much to start asking questions about Nikolas. Why didn’t they say anything?”

“I guess, but—”

“I think they know more than they’re telling us.”

“That’s usually true with Luke. All right. Do you—should we go to Turkey? I mean, you decided not to go yesterday. Have you changed your mind?”

“No.” Jason shook his head. “I don’t like it, but Luke’s our only option if the WSB isn’t going to give us anyone else on the ground. I don’t know the language, and I don’t have the contacts. That’s not the part of the world I can operate in. If we were talking about South America, it’d be different. I just—I don’t want to forget who we’re dealing with.”

“Fair enough.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. That’s enough of all of that. Do you want to call Carly today? If you want to be open by the end of the month—”

The lobby door swung open behind them, and Spinelli hurried in, a thick stack of folders in his hands. “Bonjour, hola, and good day,” he said, his tone bright. He dropped his satchel with his laptop on the counter, set the stack next to it. “I have decrypted some more files, and as Stone Cold requested—I have brought them to you.”

Elizabeth eyed the stack of papers organized into several manila folders. “That’s…a lot of reading.”

“Yeah.” Jason grimaced. “I guess it’s time to get to work.”

Penthouse: Hallway

This penthouse had been his home for a little over a year, Drew Cain thought, and he remembered it being his home for far longer, though he knew now those memories were nothing but more lies meant to deceive him into believing he was someone he wasn’t. For the first time he thought about what it meant for his brother, for Jason, to come to him that day in November, and knock on the door. To extend the olive branch to the man who was living his life.

“Before I saw you at the police station,” Jason continued, “I thought you were part of all of this. That you were behind it—”

“How dare you—”

“But I don’t anymore,” Jason said, and Drew fell silent. A door creaked upstairs. But no one made a sound. But Sam was there. Just not coming down.

Because she knew.

“I believe you when you say you remember your life. What you think is your life. But I have those memories, too,” Jason told him. “Jake told me—”

“Don’t go near my son—I knew Elizabeth believed you, but I didn’t think she’d really let Jake be part of it until we knew for sure—”

“She does know for sure,” Jason said. “But Jake told me that he loves you. And that you told him about the day he was born. I lived that day. I thought they’d both die—”

“I lived that day—” Drew opened his eyes, burning with bitterness and anger. “You think you can just come here and steal my life?”

“No, I just wanted to come home,” Jason said. “Whoever trapped me in a coma for five years also did this to you. And now we know who you were before the accident. Oscar’s test came back positive. He’s related to Jake, which means you’re—”

“I know who I am—”

“Andrew Cain,” Jason said, and the Drew closed his mouth. “You were a Navy SEAL, and people called you Drew. You lived in San Diego, and you had a son.”

“I am not—” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m Jason Morgan. I have the memories. I’m living my life. I have my sons—”

“I just wanted to make it clear that I know you didn’t do this,” Jason said, “and that if you want to find out who did—”

“Thank you for your concern,” Drew muttered, glaring at him. “Now get out.”

The memory faded, and Drew thought now of the kindness Jason had shown him. The patience and understanding that he hadn’t been obligated to demonstrate. He’d managed to stand in front of the man who’d stolen his life, unintentionally or not, and not think about the woman upstairs refusing to believe the truth.

Had that been the beginning of the break? Sam refusing to face the truth, even as she’d lied to his face? She’d called him Jason right until the results had come in—and she’d seamlessly switched to calling him Drew. Had it been a relief for her to stop pretending? Or had her old con skills kicked in?

Sam had stayed upstairs on that visit — and to Drew’s knowledge, she’d never looked Jason in the face again until just before she’d filed the divorce papers. He rubbed his chest. Maybe they’d always been doomed to fail.

He raised his hand to knock on the door that had been his home, and waited. He heard rustling inside, a soft sigh, then the door opened and Sam was standing there. Her expression was blank, her eyes guarded.

“Drew. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“It’s been a few days—” he spied Danny behind her, and Scout scooting around the coffee table. “I wanted to see the kids, and I thought we should touch base.”

“Yeah, um, sure. Sure.” Sam stepped back, smiling as Danny tossed down his tablet and rushed towards him.

“Dad, Dad! I missed you!” Danny squeezed him tightly. “I’m taking really good care of Scout, just like you told me, but I miss you. When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know yet, buddy. But I missed you, too.” Drew sat on the sofa, with Danny next to him, then lifted his daughter into his arms. His daughter. One of the few pieces of his world that still belonged to him.

“Daddy.” Scout touched his face. “Love.”

“I love you, too.” He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes.

“You should stay for lunch.”

He glanced over to find Sam watching them. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You can have some time with them, and then I’ll put Scout down for her nap. We’ll be able to talk then.”

Greystone: Living Room

It was never a good day when Diane Miller darkened his door unannounced, especially with that look on her face.

Sonny rose from the sofa, lifted his brows. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, it’s a business call.” Diane set her briefcase on the desk, tossed her fur coat over the back of the desk chair, then focused on him. “I’ve received some financial documents that make it clear that you may want to consider getting new legal representation.”

Sonny frowned. “Financial documents? Shit, Diane, did you get nabbed for insider trading or something—”

Diane scowled. “As if I would ever be ill-bred enough to get caught.” She sniffed, then cleared her throat. “I’m representing Jason in his divorce. How, uh, familiar are you with those papers?”

“I read Sam’s filing. I know she made a lot of—” Sonny grimaced, then stalked over to the minibar, giving one longing glance to the bourbon before pouring a glass of water. “She made a lot of financial demands. Half of everything. Half of the bank accounts, all of Aurora, which is insane, half of all property—” He stopped. Looked at Diane. “Shit. Interest in the warehouse. The coffee company.”

“Now, I stay out of that part of your world entirely. I don’t know who you have managing your business affairs these days, and I’m sure everything is in order. But I don’t have to tell you that having a court delve into any of that is risky. Even for law-abiding citizens. Which, of course, you are.”

Sonny exhaled slowly. “Carly never made the finances part of it,” he murmured. “We always tore each other to shreds over the kids. Over the legal money. But she never came for the coffee company. Or anything on the island. Damn it, Sam isn’t asking for any of that, is she?”

“Half of everything is everything. And you and Jason have always been equal partners, at least since 1999 when you co-founded the coffee company. Now, again, I can’t get into the specifics, though you’re welcome to inquire with Jason to see if he’ll offer any.”

“Yeah, I’ll be doing that. Christ. That’s the last thing I need right now.” Sonny sat on the arm of the sofa. “You got financial documents. Subpoenas?”

“To go into the tax records for the last ten years.” Diane winced. “Before and after the marriage to ensure nothing is being hidden. I mean, that type of thing is standard in divorce cases. I just—I’m filing a motion to quash, but I might lose it. I can’t get into more of it, Sonny. But at some point, there’s a chance your needs will conflict with Jason’s.”

“I’ll call—” Sonny winced. “I can’t call Alexis,” he muttered. “She’s filing these motions. Which means Sam knows exactly what she’s doing. That conniving gold-digging bitch.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to consider your options.” Diane retrieved her coat and briefcase. “You may want to remind Jason that I have the ammunition we need to make Sam go away quietly with nothing more than what she walked in, other than reasonable child support. If he’ll just let me off the leash, I could have this dealt with by dinner.”

Nero House: Oscar’s Bedroom

“Friday?” Oscar Nero frowned, looked at the school calendar pinned on his bulletin board. “Yeah, uh, that should work.”

“Are you sure? Because I can do whatever night you want. I can work around your schedule. I know you’re going back to school tomorrow—”

The voice on the other end of the phone was his father, which was still a strange thought for Oscar after five years of believing Drew Cain to be dead somewhere in an Afghani desert.

Then again, since Drew didn’t remember anything about his life before waking up in Port Charles, New York, in a lot of ways, Oscar’s father was still lost in the desert.

But that wasn’t fair, Oscar thought. His dad hadn’t wanted to leave him. And it wasn’t his dad’s fault that some evil supervillain had played with his brain and stolen all his memories. And it wasn’t his dad’s fault that he’d built a whole new family with a new wife and new kids—

No, none of that was Drew Cain’s fault. Sometimes, though, it was hard to remember that, but Oscar was determined to try.

“No, no. Friday is good.” Oscar cleared his throat. “But I gotta go. I’m supposed to be at Kelly’s in, like, ten minutes, and it takes fifteen just to bike over there. Joss is gonna be ticked.”

“Yeah, I know how she gets. I’ll talk to you later.” The call disconnected, but Drew’s final words rattled around Oscar’s head after he was gone. I know how she gets. Another reminder that Drew had lived an entire life that had nothing to do with Oscar.

He’d been lucky, Oscar thought. He’d moved across the country near the end of the year, and somehow it had worked out. He’d been put into an algebra class with Cameron Webber and Joss Jacks. Joss was so pretty and vibrant and funny that Oscar had just lost his mind and somehow she’d liked him back. And Cam was so nice — and his girlfriend, Trina Robinson, had been really nice, too. He’d made friends without even trying.  And now Joss was his girlfriend, and Oscar had a whole life in Port Charles that was great.

Except when he remembered that his dad knew Joss and Cam better than he knew Oscar. Maybe even better than Oscar knew them since he’d been around as they’d grown up and Oscar had only been here eight months.

He exhaled slowly. It was no one’s fault, he reminded himself. No one had asked for this, least of all his dad. They would build new memories.

He jogged down the steps and dashed into the kitchen where his stepmother, Kim, was unpacking grocery bags. “Hey. I’m going to Kelly’s.”

“Okay, but don’t stay out too late. You have to get up early for school tomorrow—”

Oscar made a face. “It’s not fair that I’m already going back. In San Diego, we’d have another week off—”

“I know, but you get out a week earlier in June, so you’ll be grateful then.” Kim flashed him a smile, and he grinned back at her. He’d been lucky here, too, he thought. His stepmother could have dumped him in the system when Drew had disappeared. Could have accepted when the Navy said Drew Cain had deserted his unit and washed her hands of the little kid that she’d only known for two years. But not Kim. She’d dug in. She’d adopted Oscar, she’d fought for his dad to be listed as missing in action, and she’d made them a family.

Maybe he’d lost his dad, but he’d found a mother, and that was okay, right?

“Yeah, yeah, but I’ll still complain. It’s my thing.” He stopped at the doorway, then turned back. “Oh, don’t worry about me for dinner on Friday, okay? My, um, dad called. We’re going to do something.”

“Oh.” Kim’s smile faltered, but then brightened again so quickly Oscar thought maybe he’d imagined it. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re spending more time together.”

“Me, too. It’ll be weird at first,” he said. “But I think we’ll be okay. Right? I mean, I didn’t know Cam before I moved here, and now he’s my best friend.”

“Exactly. You and your dad, it’ll come back to you. And everything will be just like before.” Kim smiled, and this time Oscar knew it was a little bit false, but he let it go. Adults were allowed to be weird, right? “Go have a great time. Say hi to your friends for me.”

“Thanks. See you later!”

Penthouse: Living Room

After lunch, Sam settled Scout in her room for her afternoon nap, while Drew bribed Danny with some money for one of his tablet games so he’d hang out in his room. Divide and conquer had always been their approach to parenting before the world had fallen apart.

She came down the steps last, the wariness back in her eyes. “You wanted to talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, I know you were upset that I left. And we didn’t leave things on a great note—”

“No, that’s putting it mildly,” she murmured. She wrapped her arms around her upper torso and looked down.

Their final argument had been a terrible one — and Drew still didn’t know where to go from there.

I wanted him gone. As long as I wanted Jason, Jake was in the way.

What a terrible thing to learn about the woman you loved, the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. And her anger was still so fresh, so raw—it had been present that awful day  a little more than a year ago when Sam had confronted Jake about pretending to be in trouble so his parents would reunite—and he’d run out of the house into the path of an incoming car. If she hadn’t been trapped in the basement—would she have gone for help?

Drew forced those thoughts from his mind—it was no good to dwell on any of that. Jake wasn’t a factor between them anymore and never would be again.

“I meant what I said on Christmas. Danny made his choice that day. He told Jason he wanted to keep me right now, and Jason was fine with it—”

“He doesn’t get a choice,” Sam began but Drew held up a hand.

“He does for me. Without his understanding, I couldn’t go forward. I told you that, and I get that you don’t want it that way, but that’s how it is for me. He’s my brother, Sam. You don’t have to like it, and I may not know what to do with it yet, but that’s how it is.”

Sam pressed her lips together, her eyes hot. “Anything else you want to dictate?”

“I’m—” He took a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to explain how I feel. There’s a lot going on in my head. Memories that aren’t mine, and a past I don’t know anything about. A son I never knew about. Sons that aren’t mine—not biologically,” he added when Sam opened her mouth. “I haven’t been able to reach out to Jake—”

“Because she made sure to shove Jake in Jason’s face, didn’t she? She used him from the beginning and she’s doing it again—”

A child slithered down his spine because he knew that look in her eyes, didn’t he? That tone in her voice. Of course he didn’t know it. He hadn’t lived through it. But he had the memories of the last time Sam had been furious at Elizabeth, resenting Jake’s entire existence.

“However it fell out,” he interrupted, and Sam closed her mouth with a snap. “It’s where we are. I didn’t reach out to Jake because it would be too hard. But I saw him on Christmas, and I think it’s going to be okay. I’m doing my best, Sam. We all are. There’s no right way or wrong way to do any of this. There’s just…what I can handle. I’m sorry. I know none of this is what you want to hear—”

“You don’t know anything about what I want to hear.” Sam’s arms dropped to her side. “I’m fine with Jake being out of our lives. It makes things simpler. Fine. Jason’s given you his stamp of approval. Danny’s yours. Scout’s yours. What else do you need?”

“I don’t know. I just know I’m not ready for either of us to go on pretending like the whole world didn’t change a few months ago. That’s what you wanted to do. To just go on with the life we’d planned. But that life isn’t possible. Not anymore.”

“Because you don’t want it—” Sam’s voice broke. “You don’t want me. You’re angry because I’m trying to get Jason out of our lives. I’m just trying to make it all go away so we can be happy again—”

“I don’t know if I want it to go away. You think you need Jason gone, and I respect that. But—” Drew swallowed. “I’d have to give him up, too, wouldn’t I? I don’t know if we can be brothers, but you’d have me cut that off before—”

“You don’t need him! You’ve gone your whole life without him—and Jason’s not so damn special that you have to destroy everything you have to keep him.” Sam scoffed. “Believe me, I should know.”

“I’m not destroying anything, Sam. I’m telling you I want that door to stay open. And I can’t do anything that’s going to close it. If I stay with you, if I come back right now, I’m co-signing everything you’re asking to do in those papers.” Drew shook his head, sadly. “I can’t do it, Sam. I’m sorry.”

Sam brushed away a tear, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Then that’s where we are. Because it’s a deal breaker for me. I want him gone from my life the way he was supposed to be—”

“He wasn’t gone, Sam. These last few years, he was me. I was him. Or did you never truly accept that?”

She drew in a sharp breath, then stared at the ground. “I don’t know. Maybe not. I just—I know that it has to be this way. I want it this way. And you don’t. So this is where we leave each other.”

This entry is part 1 of 39 in the Fool Me Twice: Ashes to Ashes

Rise above the ground, where you lay
You’ve been laying there so long
You’ve just about forgotten how
To live your life
Well, you can’t find where you belong
No, you can’t find where you fit in
Don’t you think it’s time you gave your life a chance again

Ready to Rise, Vaughan Penn


July 2016

Cassadine Island, Greece

Heat seared into his skin, burning through the tattered remains of his white shirt and dark pants. From the top of his disheveled dark hair to the tips of his toes, still tucked, oddly enough, inside waterlogged Italian loafers.

He lay nearly dead on the sand, his cheek pressed against the ground, arms spread at his sides, the dull roar of the Aegean and the brightness of the sun piercing his head with sharp pain—

It would be easier, simpler for all if he stayed where he was, waiting for the inevitable end when the tide rose and washed him back out to sea just as it washed him ashore.

Except…

He was a Cassadine.

Death was only the beginning, and simple was for the peasants they’d ruled for centuries. Who cared that the Russian Revolution had ripped away that aristocratic privilege? Or if society’s laws tried to reign in their desire for power and wealth?

It wasn’t even the first time this year that death had pursued him. It would take more than a gunshot to the chest and a plunge into the sea below to destroy most Cassadines.

And he was no mere Cassadine, as his grandmother had been fond of telling him, though when Helena spoke those words, they always sounded more ominous than proud.

You, my darling grandson, have the blood of czars in your veins. Of warlords and Cossacks. The world should tremble before you.

He was the son of Stavros, grandson of Mikkos; he could trace his lineage back to the beginnings of Russia, to what was little more than a cold wasteland known as Muscovy. The Cassadines had endured before the empire, and they would rise from its ashes like phoenixes.

He was Nikolas Cassadine, and he would not go quietly into the night and let all that belonged to him — his power, his wealth, his family — be stolen from him by some mere nobody, some bastard that had no sense of honor or compassion.

He might have the darkness of the Cassadine curse coursing through him, but he also had the gentle strength and love of Laura Webber Spencer, the quiet power that came only from doing what was right and good.

He’d lost sight of that, and maybe it was beyond his power to regain it, but —

He would not give up.

Nikolas pushed himself up on one elbow, his blurred vision slowly sharpening. Was anyone looking for him? Or had they given him up for dead?

Everything throbbed with pain, from his head to his toes — he looked at them now, wiggling inside the ruined shoes. Nikolas exhaled slowly.

Valentin. The bastard Cassadine who had threatened to murder Ava Jerome if Nikolas didn’t sign over the Cassadine estate and fortune. And he’d done it, hadn’t he? He dragged his hands down his face, wincing when the sand scratched his face. Christ. He’d signed away everything, and Valentin had still nearly pulled the trigger.

They’d fought—and then nothing.

Nikolas rolled to his feet, wincing as the pain bit into his shoulder anew. He looked around the beach, looked up to the cliffs. He was on the far side of the island. If they were looking for him, they might not have found him yet.

And if they weren’t looking, well—

Nikolas clutched his shoulder and started to walk. He’d get himself cleaned up, and then he’d take care of this usurper, this fraud, one way or the other.

He was Nikolas Mikail Stavrosovich Cassadine, and he would not go quietly.

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Istanbul, Turkey: International Airport

Luke Spencer flipped through his wallet, extracted a credit card which he extended to his son. “Go get us a car, Cowboy. A low key one,” he added. “Don’t get nothing flashy. This isn’t Budapest. We need to stay under the radar.”

“Got it, no sports cars.” Lucky Spencer picked up the bag he’d carried onto the flight, a tan satchel that he looped across his chest. “You got anything against monster trucks?”

“Smart ass,” Luke muttered. “I need to make some calls. I’ll meet you outside.”

Lucky offered a two-finger salute, heading for the rental counter where he got the car he wanted — a sweet two-seater Etox Zafer in a cherry red. If he was going to be dragged away from his own mission because his brother had some grand plan, Lucky was going to make it clear he wasn’t taking orders.

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to take them from Nikolas, of all people.

The rental agent behind the counter smiled as she slid the keys toward Lucky.

“Başka bir şey var mı, efendim?” she said.

Lucky’s Turkish was rusty, but he could hold his own. “No, I don’t need anything else, thanks,” he said, answering back in her language and leaving to meet his father.

The agent had reminded him of Elizabeth, he thought, shoving the rental paperwork into his satchel. Superficially — chestnut brown hair, light skin, blue eyes. Not uncommon on the European side of Istanbul, but it was still an unwelcome reminder. Lucky had spent the last week or so trying to forget his last encounter with his ex-wife, her harsh words, and the familiar disappointment in those eyes.

He’d never quite measured up to her expectations as a husband or a father, even before he’d left Port Charles, and he was mostly used to that. He’d never lived up to anyone’s expectations, not since Helena Cassadine had drugged and kidnapped him, then faked his death with a fire. He usually talked his way around Elizabeth when she was in those kinds of moods, but he hadn’t been able to shake her as easily this time.

He’d just wanted to leave, to follow up on a lead he was sure would break open the whole goddamn mess — but she’d looked at him with those eyes and reminded him of all the ways he’d let her down.

So he’d pulled out the big guns, and he’d told her the lie he’d been keeping in his back pocket.

I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to…

His chest tightened as he remembered the way she’d looked, when she’d understood what he was telling her. He didn’t stay in Port Charles and didn’t talk much to any of the kids because they didn’t feel like his.

A damned lie, Lucky thought as he found the car he’d rented in the parking lot. He’d never given Cameron’s paternity a second thought. Not since the little boy had looked at him with his mother’s eyes and called him Daddy. And Jake? God, he’d always love Jake. Believing him dead for four years had shattered his whole world.

And of course, he loved Aiden. The sweet, funny kid who looked just like Lucky, but had his mother’s smile—

He exhaled slowly. But Elizabeth had believed him, and Lucky had been able to leave. Had gone to Bosnia, sure that this time he’d found the smoking gun. That he’d be able to show Elizabeth the truth and there was time to fix the rest of it, wasn’t there?

But it had been another dead end. He’d ripped out Elizabeth’s heart and hurt her for nothing.

“You ready, Cowboy?” Luke came up, then scowled. “The hell is this?” he demanded. He yanked an unlit cigar from his mouth. “What’d I tell you about flashy?”

“I heard you. I decided I didn’t care.” Lucky opened the door. “You want to complain, or do you want get this over with?”

Luke grumbled but slid into the passenger side. “You really need to learn about traveling under cover.”

“And you need to relax and have a little fun.” Lucky tossed his bag in the small space behind the seats. “And work on your Turkish. You sound like an idiot.”

“You—” Luke sputtered, but his answer was lost as Lucky put the car into gear, revved the engine and pealed out of the parking lot.

Fatih District: Kiremit Caddesi

Kiremit Caddesi was a steep street in the Balat neighborhood on the European side of the old city. It climbed from the shores of Golden Horn estuary towards the Fatih district center and considered itself a tourist destination, which meant it was easier to blend in if you were an American woman on the run.

Britt Westbourne stepped out of the taxi and looked dubiously at the row of brightly colored houses, then down at the address she’d scribbled back in Geneva. This was the right street, she thought. And that was the house number — but she’d expected something a bit more —

Well, a bit more. She’d lived in that huge gothic mansion on Spoon Island, and she’d seen the estate in Greece. And one of the Cassadine properties in Moscow—

But this tiny street with the tall houses built so close together she almost felt claustrophobic—this didn’t feel like a Cassadine house. The bright blue building rose four stories from the ground, with bars covering the ground floor windows, and even the front door. Britt gripped the handle on her single suitcase tightly as she went to the front door and knocked.

A moment later the heavy oak door behind the bars opened, and she saw Nikolas. He unlocked the barred gate and led her into the tiny foyer. A flight of stairs was directly in front of them next to a skinny hallway that led towards the back of the house. To the side was a cramped room with sofas and a coffee table.

“Not exactly the Ritz,” Nikolas said, closing the door behind her. “But it’ll do for now. It’s good to see you.”

“Really? I haven’t heard from you since last April.” Britt set her suitcase at her feet. “What new hoops do you have for me to jump through?”

Nikolas arched a brow. “Come with me, I’ll show you the room  where you’ll be staying.” He picked up her luggage and started up the cramped set of stairs.

“Oh, you’re a bellhop now?” she muttered darkly, but followed. Three flights later — when they’d reached the top of the house, and Britt wanted to choke him, Nikolas showed her a bedroom overlooking the street. It was small and cramped, with a double bed tucked against the wall, a desk next to it and a tall dresser in the corner by the windows. “Are you planning to tell me anything at all?”

“Luke and Lucky are on their way,” Nikolas said, and Britt blinked. “Valentin is in Istanbul, so they’ve been tasked with locating him. I thought it would be a good time for us to gather and discuss what’s next.”

“Nikolas—”

He stopped at the door. “You should know I gave Luke and Lucky a cover story that has to do with you. They were following a lead for me last November and needed something to tell the others back home. I told them to use you.”

“Use me?” Britt repeated. “What does that mean?”

“Lucky supposedly caught up to you. We told them that you and Faison split up around the time Jason showed up in Port Charles, and that you spent a few weeks at the clinic last year and woke up Jason. Since it’s not far from the truth—”

This is the story they told everyone back in Port Charles?” Britt demanded. “What happens if they find out I haven’t seen my father in over a year?”

“Then we’ll just tell them you lied.” Nikolas raised his brow. “They’ll believe that, won’t they? With Elizabeth there to remind them of your track record?”

Britt clenched her jaw at the reminder that her past was littered with lies and deception. “I prefer to do my own lying,” she said coolly, “so in the future, why don’t you ask me first?”

Nikolas tipped his head. “Do you have a problem with the arrangement, Britt? We had a deal. You help me bring down Valentin, and you get your life back.”

When she’d made that deal, she’d never dreamed that eighteen months later, she’d still be waiting for that miracle. But maybe this time — whatever Valentin was doing — maybe this time whatever she was asked to do, it would finally be enough.

“No, that’s still the deal. When does everyone else get here?”

“Soon. We’ll get started when they get here.”

“Can’t wait.”

Kiremit: Study

“You get the whole second floor to yourself?” Luke muttered as he followed Lucky into the room Nikolas referred to as his study but was nothing more than the smaller of the two bedrooms on the floor. He’d had the bed removed and a desk moved in. It overlooked the street, which meant he could track the comings and goings.

He needed to maintain control of the situation, knowing that the volatile mixture of the personalities gathered—himself included—would need little kindling to explode. That was the last thing he needed.

“You’re not in the States anymore, Luke,” Nikolas said dryly. “It’s ground floor, then first story—”

“Oh, who the hell cares—I still have to drag my ass up two flights of stairs just to get to my own room,” Luke began.

“It could be three flights,” Britt said from the doorway, and the three men twisted to look at her. Nikolas saw the dismay in Luke’s face and the irritation in his brother’s. “Oh, I see no one warned you that your trio was a quartet, huh?”

“What the hell is Little Obrecht doing here?” Luke demanded. “Look, I agreed to work with you, not with her—”

“Do you have a medical degree?” Nikolas cut in sharply, and Luke sat back. “No. Lucky, you said that Spinelli was planning to share files with you as he decrypted them. You said there were medical files.”

“Yeah. But—”

“Britt’s a doctor. I know she isn’t exactly the ideal partner, but as long as you assume every word she says is probably a lie, you’ll be fine—”

“That’s two,” Britt said, and he blinked at her. “You insult me one more time and you can read your own damn files. I’ll turn myself into the authorities back in Port Charles. Along with a really interesting story about a dead Cassadine prince. I am not the only liar in this room. ”

Nikolas clenched his jaw. “Don’t threaten me—you need me more than I need you.”

“A year ago, I agreed with you.” Britt folded her arms. “They don’t trust me, Nikolas. And they have every right to feel that way when you start off by calling me a liar who can’t be trusted—”

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be? You think you’re gonna disarm us by playing nice?” Luke got to his feet. “Listen here, Little Obrecht, I know what you did to my daughter—”

“What about what you did to my son?” Lucky’s quiet voice cut through the room and Luke fell quiet. Nikolas looked at his brother, startled at this reminder of Luke’s part in Jake’s accident. But Lucky wasn’t looking at him. He rose, facing Britt. “I don’t have to like or trust you, which I don’t. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have the same goal.” He looked at Nikolas. “And I still haven’t heard what’s so important that you needed me and Dad here. Dad could have handled it on his own — I had a lead—”

“You always have a lead,” Nikolas interrupted. “And it never pans out. When Luke told me Valentin was in Turkey, I knew this was our best shot to get what we needed. Plus, now we have access to more information than we’ll ever need—”

I have access to it.” Lucky dropped back in his seat. “So you want me here because of the files.”

“Yes.” Nikolas took a deep breath. “I want to know what they know in Port Charles. And if possible, I want to know it first. I need to find Valentin before they do.”

“Obviously, I’ve been left out of a big part of this conversation,” Britt said. “You said the whole reason you needed to stay dead was to keep Valentin thinking he’s safe. But Jason Morgan is home now. Valentin has to know his time is up. Why aren’t you working with him and his brother? Don’t you all have the same goal?”

“You think anyone of them would work with you?” Luke demanded. “You don’t get to complain—”

“Dad, they barely work with us,” Lucky told him. He shrugged, looked back to his brother. “Look, you want Dad to look for Valentin, that’s fine. My focus is making sure every last trace of Helena and her plans, is erased. I need the files to know where to look. If Britt can help with that, great.” He met her eyes. “That sound good to you?”

“Yeah, that works for me.” Britt looked at Nikolas. “Unless you have other orders?”

“No. Both of you, the first priority is those files. Luke will focus on finding Valentin in Turkey, and I’ll continue to investigate the Cassadine properties around the world. I found that clinic in Russia, we’ll find others. We all have a role to play. Let’s play nice and make some progress.”

“Dismissed,” Lucky said. When Nikolas scowled at him, his brother just shrugged. “What? We were all thinking it. I’m going to get set up in my room upstairs. There’s two rooms on the your floor, right?” he asked Britt. “I’ll take the other.”

“Cowboy—”

“Dad, better go call your guy at the WSB. I’ll let you know when we have something to share.”

Luke watched Lucky follow Britt out of the room, and once he heard footsteps on the stairs, he closed the door and faced Nikolas. “You really needed her?”

“I know what she did to Lulu, Luke. But she has connections we don’t.” Nikolas sat at the desk. “And I’d rather have her where I can see her. I know you’re pissed that I’m here at all—”

“I liked you better in your little hole in Marseilles,” Luke muttered. He dragged a hand down his face and went to the window to look over the street. “Knowing you’re alive and saying nothing is one thing. Being in the room and working with you is another —”

“You’re free to go any time, Luke. I’m not forcing you to lie to my mother.”

“No, but I’m worried enough about what Valentin might do if he found out there’s still a threat to the Cassadine fortune.” Luke faced him. “He forged that will after trying to kill you backfired. He tried to take out Anna. He’s rattled, and my family is right in the crosshairs. As long as you’re dead and out of the picture, Valentin still believes he’s relatively safe. He’s not going to rock the boat any more than he has already. Anna was a panic move. I don’t expect him to be that stupid again, or for us to walk away unscathed.”

“Britt did her best last year, Luke. And if she’d been able to get Jason awake, we could have had him on our side then. We could have explained things—”

“You would have used him to kill Valentin,” Luke said, and Nikolas closed his mouth. “I’m not an idiot. You get to Morgan first, tell him Valentin is behind it all, and he’ll take out the threat. He takes all the risk, and you get all the reward if it goes right. ”

“That might have been one of the reasons I wanted Jason alive,” Nikolas said, slowly, “but it wasn’t all of it. I knew my grandmother had some kind of plans for Jake. Jason was insurance on that front. Another pair of eyes on him.”

Plans for Jake. Such a vague phrase. Had Nikolas known what those plans were? Luke had wondered but hadn’t let himself consider too deeply. Some secrets were better left in the dark. “You need to keep a close eye on Little Obrecht. Lucky doesn’t know her, but you do. She’s got a way of making herself into a victim. She played you more than once. Don’t let her screw with my boy.”

Your boy can take care of himself—”

“Don’t you ever forget, Nikolas, you and I have a common goal,” Luke said. “But that doesn’t make us a team.”

Maslak, Istanbul: Lab

In the northern part of the city, in a building that looked like any other office tower, Helena Cassadine had hidden one of her many research facilities. It had taken Valentin’s men nearly two years to locate it —

But now Valentin stood inside of it with his hands on his mother’s research and on one of the Cassadine relatives that had been squirreled away for a rainy day. And yet, he was dissatisfied.

He stood in the small room, where the still body of Stefan Cassadine lay prone in the hospital bed, glaring at the vitals beeping on the monitor by his side.

“How much longer until he is awake?” Valentin demanded. “You told me—”

“I told you it would be some time.” Joseph Klein’s tone nearly sounded like a whine, and if he had another doctor to take this idiot’s place, Valentin would have done it already. “If Herr Cassadine would like to return to Port Charles to await further word—”

“No. If I go back now, I’ll only have to return when you’ve done your job.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he ignored it. “How much longer?” he repeated.

“We hope by the end of the week. We have so few case studies to utilize,” Klein reminded Valentin. “After all, only the twins have ever been woken successfully from these comas. And we don’t know how to interpret the formulas left behind by Dr. Scorpio—”

“What about what you used for Jason Morgan?” Valentin growled. “When you woke him on Faison’s orders last year?”

“Dr. Westbourne took those notes with her.” Klein scowled. “If we had those—”

“So get her—”

“We have lost track of her—”

“Imbeciles,” Valentin muttered, stalking out of the room and down the hall where he’d staked out a space for himself. He’d been too excited, he reminded himself. Too anxious to finally delve into the secrets his mother had kept. When he’d learned they’d found one of the pesky brothers who threatened Valentin’s inheritance — well, of course, he’d rushed to the scene.

He ought to have waited. To have taken a breath and called on his patience. But he found harder and harder these days to find it. At every turn he’d been betrayed. His own father had apparently sent Britt Westbourne to wake Jason Morgan. For what reason? Had Faison thought to challenge Valentin’s power? No, no. It couldn’t be. For his silence on the matter of paternity, Valentin had seen fit to keep Cesar Faison and Liesl Obrecht living in luxury. Though his father was not returning phone calls, he thought darkly. That needed to be dealt with.

Valentin fished out his cell and saw the missed calls from his wife back in Port Charles. He’d need a cover story for all of this, he thought. Something that would mollify Nina’s worries.

He’d think on that while he worked on the most important task — decrypting his mother’s files and locating anyone else who could challenge Valentin’s right to hold the Cassadine fortune. He’d earned every penny in his bank accounts, and he’d be damned if he lost it now.

February 26, 2024

Scenes from Book 2. 


Heat seared into his skin, burning through the tattered remains of his white shirt and dark pants. From the top of his disheveled dark hair to the tips of his toes, still tucked, oddly enough, inside waterlogged Italian loafers.

He lay nearly dead on the sand, his cheek pressed against the ground, arms spread at his sides, the dull roar of the Aegean and the brightness of the sun piercing his head with sharp pain—

It would be easier, simpler for all if he stayed where he was, waiting for the inevitable end when the tide rose and washed him back out to sea just as it washed him ashore.

Except…

He was a Cassadine.

Death was only the beginning, and simple was for the peasants they’d ruled for centuries. Who cared that the Russian Revolution had ripped away that aristocratic privilege? Or if society’s laws tried to reign in their desire for power and wealth?

It wasn’t even the first time this year that death had pursued him. It would take more than a gunshot to the chest and a plunge into the sea below to destroy most Cassadines.

And he was no mere Cassadine, as his grandmother had been fond of telling him, though when Helena spoke those words, they always sounded more ominous than proud.

You, my darling grandson, have the blood of czars in your veins. Of warlords and Cossacks. The world should tremble before you.


“Because you don’t want it—” Sam’s voice broke. “You don’t want me. You’re angry because I’m trying to get Jason out of our lives. I’m just trying to make it all go away so we can be happy again—”

“I don’t know if I want it to go away. You think you need Jason gone, and I respect that. But—” Drew swallowed. “I’d have to give him up, too, wouldn’t I? I don’t know if we can be brothers, but you’d have me cut that off before—”

“You don’t need him! You’ve gone your whole life without him—and Jason’s not so damn special that you have to destroy everything you have to keep him.” Sam scoffed. “Believe me, I should know.”

“I’m not destroying anything, Sam. I’m telling you I want that door to stay open. And I can’t do anything that’s going to close it. If I stay with you, if I come back right now, I’m co-signing everything you’re asking to do in those papers.” Drew shook his head, sadly. “I can’t do it, Sam. I’m sorry.”

Sam brushed away a tear, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Then that’s where we are. Because it’s a deal breaker for me. I want him gone from my life the way he was supposed to be—”

“He wasn’t gone, Sam. These last few years, he was me. I was him. Or did you never truly accept that?”

She drew in a sharp breath, then stared at the ground. “I don’t know. Maybe not. I just—I know that it has to be this way. I want it this way. And you don’t. So this is where we leave each other.”


Jason paused. “I just—it took me back. To Russia.” He flexed his hand, stared at it.  “I woke up in that clinic eight months ago. Almost a year now,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, and now she focused on him, not thinking about her own silliness. “I woke up, and I couldn’t move. I spent months trying to get my strength back. Every waking moment, I only thought about one thing. Home. I had to get home.”

“Jason—”

“Survival mode, you know what that’s like. You’ve been through it. You keep moving forward, but you can’t look down because it’ll just paralyze you. You just focus on the goal. On waking up. On moving a finger. You can’t think about how it shouldn’t be that hard just to move one damned finger.”

He still held one of her hands, so she raised the other, touched his chest, her fingertips brushing against his heart, comforted by its beat. “I do know what it’s like. Not to that extent, but I do.”

“I focused on getting here. On coming home. But home wasn’t there anymore. I’m not talking about Sam,” he added, and she grimaced, hating that he’d guessed what she’d been thinking. “I’m talking about the penthouse, which was mine. I’d never lived anywhere else as long. Ten years, Elizabeth. Almost all of the life I remember, that was home. My pool table. The view of the harbor, the travel books. My bike in the parking garage. I just wanted to come home. But it wasn’t there. Not because Sam didn’t want me to be there or because she’d remarried. But it was the wrong colors, and there was a dining table now—she said she put it all into storage, but it was gone. A broken pipe in the basement, they said—”

“You never told me that,” Elizabeth said, her chest aching.

“It’s been better the last few months. I don’t think about any of it much, and I haven’t needed to worry about survival. Jake’s alive, which was a miracle I never could have dreamed. He’s here, and I get to be a part of his life.” His gaze held hers, those beautiful eyes glimmering with his own unshed tears. Jason swallowed hard. “I don’t think about it—I wasn’t thinking about it,” he corrected. “I wanted answers, sure, and there were difficult moments. It hasn’t been easy. But I had you. And the boys,” he added, “but it started with you. And with Sonny knowing me the second he saw me. And Carly, as crazy as it sounds, pulling her crap. I got to feel like myself again.”


“Yeah—maybe.” Drew nodded. “I’m gonna go get coffee. You want one?” Without waiting for Jason to answer, he crossed the street and went inside the café. At the counter, he ordered in flawless Turkish, then seeing that Jason had followed, doubled the order. He went over to the window and sat at a table.

“Do I get to ask?”

“Uh, no. I just—I knew this place had the best coffee in the district.” He stared down at the dark liquid. “And I take it black. I do. Not because of you. But Drew Cain. I always drink it black.” His throat felt oddly thick, and he couldn’t look up.

“It was after the shooting at Luke’s for me. The first time I felt connected to who I’d been before.”

Drew looked up, blinked at Jason. “What?”

“Nikolas was shot in the throat. Choking on his own blood. I knew he needed an airway. I knew how to do it. Later I found out I’d seen it in medical school. It was the first time I really felt like Jason Quartermaine and Jason Morgan were the same person. And that I was him.”

“Yeah. Everything has mostly been…I figure it’s been you. I eat pastrami on rye from Kelly’s because I remembered ordering it. But this—” Drew looked around the cafe. “I must have been stationed here or something. Because I know for a fact that I’ve sat at this table before, drinking coffee.”


No. Going after Damien Spinelli or anyone else that the brothers had brought into their circle—it was too risky, and Valentin still had to consider his own bottom line. He’d lost his half-brother as a source, but—

His eye caught a photograph of Nina on the desk, her sultry smile beckoning him like a moth to a flame. There were other ways to ensure Jason and Drew were miserable, of course. His revenge had to be subtle. Untraceable.

And he had his mother’s memories to mine. Valentin would just have to readjust Klein’s goals. He’d unlock Helena’s vast memories, glean the information he needed, and eliminate every last living Cassadine to ensure his own branch was all that remained.

He looked at the photo next to Nina, at his bright smiling princess as Charlotte beamed out at him from her fall picture. Oh, Valentin knew exactly how he’d make Jason and Drew pay for their crime.


Elizabeth rested her chin on his shoulder. “But what’s keeping you up right now isn’t whether or not you should keep asking questions. You already know the answer.”

“Yeah. I know. I just—it took a long time to look at Monica and see her as my mother. But if she did this—” Jason exhaled slowly. “If she did this, how do I look at her again? How do any of us?”

“And maybe she didn’t. How can you go on without knowing?” She pressed her lips to his skin. “Pandora’s box is open, Jason. We can’t go back.”

January 14, 2024

This entry is part 7 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

Song: New’s Year Day (Taylor Swift)

 Epilogue

Monday, January 1, 2007

 Port Charles Hotel: Renaissance Room

 “5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The room exploded into cheers, confetti spilled from the ceiling—

There was almost nothing Jason hated more than crowded parties and lots of noises, and he did everything possible to avoid them.

But he’d married someone who loved them, and sometimes— Jason looked at his wife, her eyes sparkling, a headband with the numbers 2007 tucked in the curls of her chestnut hair, and a wide smile on her face. She blew into the noisemaker in her hand, then waved across the room at one of the dozens of people she knew.

She’d checked out of the hospital the day before after a successful procedure to eliminate a blood clot in her lungs, and all her doctors said she was as healthy as a woman in her second trimester could be—

“Dance with me?” Elizabeth asked, her beautiful eyes pleading, as the band struck up Auld Lang Syne. “Please?”

As if he’d say no.

He took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor, littered with the remains of the confetti, some pieces still gently falling to the ground.

Sometimes parties weren’t so bad.

 There’s glitter on the floor after the party
Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

 Across the dance floor another woman was tapping her toe nervously against the hardwood, her brown eyes searching the room for any hint of problems. It was her event, after all, and no matter how many successful parties she threw, Carly would never be able to relax without expecting the world to crash down.

And tonight? Well, tonight, she was even more on edge. Weaving towards her, a glass of champagne in his hands, was her date for the evening.

It was their first date.

“Happy New Year,” AJ said. He tapped his glass of sparkling water against hers. She hadn’t even blinked when he’d offered to get them drinks. After three years of sobriety, she knew he wouldn’t break it tonight.

She trusted him. What a strange, lovely sensation. What a terrifying one.

“Happy New Year.” He clinked their glasses together.

Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor
You and me from the night before, but

Maxie limped to the side of the ballroom, a hand on Lulu’s shoulder. “Don’t even say it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Because my ass looks amazing when I wear these things—”

“Not commenting on that.”

“But—” Maxie fell into a seat and finally slipped her poor, aching feet out of the blood red stilettos. “Why does something so beautiful have to hurt so much?”

Lulu looked across the room, watched Dante laughing and talking with Cruz, and Cruz’s boyfriend, Brad.

“I wish I knew.”

Don’t read the last page
But I stay when you’re lost, and I’m scared, and you’re turning away

“You sure you won’t change your mind?” Dillon asked, twirling Georgie into another spin. “Come out to LA—at least consider some of the grad schools there.”

“I wish I could.” Georgie smiled at him. “But it would be like asking you to come to Oxford with me. There’s an entertainment industry in England. You could write there.” When he made a face. “You’re writing for television, Dillon. You’re on the road to your dream. This is mine. It’s great when you come home every few months, but—” Georgie lifted one shoulder. “I think it’s time we both moved on.”

I want your midnights
But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day

Bobbie lifted her champagne glass to her lips, sweeping over the ballroom to check in on her family. Lucas was with Felix — sometimes she worried he was settling down too fast, with the first real boyfriend he’d ever had. But what did she know about young love? She’d never been able to make it last at that age. Too much scheming. Too many lies.

“I know that face, Barbara Jean. What’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about when we were kids.” Bobbie sighed. “If we could have imagined where we’d end up.”

“I thought I’d be in jail,” Luke said. “Then again, I probably should be.”

“Not going to argue with that,” Bobbie muttered. “I just worry Lucas and Felix are too young to be so settled. If they could do it legally, I think they’d be married already.”

Lucas tipped his head. “Interesting. You don’t think Elizabeth was too young, do you? She’s been with Morgan since she was about Lucas’s age. Or you know, Laura wasn’t much older than when she hooked up with me.” He frowned. “No, scratch that last example. Look, sometimes you just know. You raised a good boy, Barbara. Don’t go searching for something to worry about. Your kids are happy. All of them.” He gestured towards the dance floor where AJ had talked Carly into a dance, and Elizabeth was smiling up at Jason. “Take it as a good sign.”

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi
I can tell that it’s gonna be a long road

“I have the worst feeling,” Monica announced when Alan returned to their table, setting a glass down in front of her. “Don’t you?”

“I try not to feel anything after midnight.” He stifled a yawn. “We’re getting too old for this, Monica.”

“Later.” Monica peered to the dance floor, watching AJ laugh and trade conversation with Carly. A few feet away, Emily was dancing with Nikolas—and then Jason and Elizabeth. “They’re all out there, Alan. Happy. Maybe that’s why I have a bad feeling. Look at our babies.”

“Monica—”

“They’re happy. But what if something happens? What if Carly changes her mind about AJ? She’s done it before—what if one of them gets sick—Elizabeth’s health is good right now, but—”

“What if the sky turns green?” Alan said gently. He kissed his wife’s hand. “Relax. Enjoy the moment. Dance with me, and then we’ll go home. Leave these late nights to the kids.”

I’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe
Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home

“Ma keeps looking over here,” Dante said, turning so that his back was to his mother. “How long do you think she’s gonna be worried about me?”

“Hopefully long enough so we can restock our freezer with her famous lasagna,” Cruz quipped, and Dante rolled his eyes. “Your mother only has one mode — worrying about you. We should all be so lucky.”

Dante frowned at him. Cruz so rarely spoke about his family—even after all these years. “You, uh, ever think of checking in with yours?”

“Mine?” Cruz looked at him, then stared into the bottom of his glass. “No. She’s not interested in me. She made it clear — I could burn in hell, or I could be her son. Solana Ruiz doesn’t make idle threats.”

“Ruiz?” Dante furrowed his brow. “Where did Rodriguez come from then?”

Cruz winced. “Look, forget I said anything—”

“If you want me to, I can do that. But you can tell me anything. You know that. It goes in the vault. I won’t even say anything to Lucky.”

Cruz sighed, looked over at the bar where Brad, Lucas, and Felix were getting another round of drinks. Then he focused on Dante. “I changed my name when I left home. Legally. Mami didn’t want to be associated with me, so I figured, why carry that with me? I was born Francisco Ruiz Rodriguez. Hispanic tradition, you carry both names. I just took my nickname growing up and dropped my father’s name. It’s not a big deal. I wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t—” He shook his head. “I’ve just been thinking about them a lot lately. And I shouldn’t drink so much.”

“You want it forgotten, it’s forgotten. Never happened.”

“Good. I’ll hold you to it.”

Don’t read the last page
But I stay when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or we’re making mistakes

Carly stepped out onto the terrace, welcoming the bitter chill on her bare skin. The ballroom was too warm, still too full of people—too much.

“Hey. It’s freezing out here—” AJ stepped up behind her, dropped his suit jacket on her shoulders. “You okay?”

She closed her eyes, nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Yeah. I’m good. Just—it’s a lot in there.” Carly bit her lip, glanced over her shoulder. “Sometimes I miss who I used to be,” she admitted in a rush. “When I didn’t care what people thought.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’re all looking at us. Didn’t you feel it?”

“I don’t notice it. People have always stared and pointed at me. Happens when you’re the Quartermaine screw up. Two years of clean living doesn’t make up for the years that came before,” AJ added when she just sighed. “Why do you care if they’re looking?”

She bit her lip. “After the panic room,” she began slowly, “I tried very hard to go back to my old life. To who I was before. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to be that person anymore. Especially after…” After that night in December. After all those times Sonny had broken into the Brownstone— “I know people don’t know the worst of it. Most of it was sealed in the divorce. But they do know about what I did to you.” Carly looked at him. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop thinking about it. You said you forgave me, and I believe you. But I don’t forgive myself. And that’s what they’re all thinking. They’re wondering why you would ever give me a second chance.”

I want your midnights
But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day

 Dante weaved through the crowd, two bottles of beer in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other. He bumped into someone — “Sorry—”

“No worries—” Scott turned. “Falconieri. Hey! Where you going in such a hurry?” The DA stood next to Bobbie — the two were never far from each other—and a blonde he didn’t recognize.

“Taking drinks to Lucky and Kelsey—” He nodded to the couple who’d joined their table. “But, hey, it’s good I ran into you. I had a question about the Cavallari case—”

“Oh, Dante, take a break! It’s the holidays.” Bobbie touched his arm. “Have you met Scott’s daughter?”

“Daughter?” Dante frowned. He’d only known about Karen, after the Oliver Joyce murder case. He looked at the blonde again. “No, I haven’t.”

Scott looked almost as if he was going to protest, but Bobbie was quicker. “Well, then, let me do the honors. Dante Falconieri, meet Serena Baldwin.”

 Hold on to the memories
They will hold on to you

 Elizabeth kissed Emily’s cheek, then hugged Nikolas. “I’ll see you at work in a few days,” she said.

“Go home. Take good care of my nephew. Both of them,” Emily added. She kissed her brother’s cheek. “Happy New Year.”

Jason tugged gently on Elizabeth’s elbow, knowing that she’d find someone else to say goodbye to if he didn’t steer her towards the exit. Normally, he’d let her do whatever she wanted, but—

“I know, I know.” Elizabeth sighed, then leaned into his embrace as they stopped by the coat check to retrieve their things. “Thank you for tonight. I know you’d rather be at home.”

“I’d rather be with you.” He helped her into her coat, dropped a kiss just behind her 2007 headband. “Always.”

Hold on to the memories
They will hold on to you

 “So they figured out whatever was going on with them,” Scott said, gesturing towards Lucky and Kelsey who’d returned to the dance floor. Kelsey threw back her head and laughed. Bobbie, who’d been humming to the band, frowned, looked at him. “Lucky and Kelsey. She was working a lot of late nights. He did something.”

“Scott.”

“Well, they had a fight then,” he grumbled, not willing to concede. “Spencers. They’re trouble. I tried to tell her—”

Bobbie lifted a brow. “Spencers, huh?”

“Spencer men,” Scott corrected hastily. “I just…I want her to be happy, is that so bad? She…her dad’s not around because of—well, not because of me. But Ollie was trying to look after my daughter. I want to do right by him.”

“Lucky and Kelsey have been solid and happy together since the moment they’ve met.” Bobbie squeezed his hand. “He’s been more himself these last few years than he has since he came home. I’ve never seen two people who bring out the best in each other the way that they do. And whatever rough patch, it seems they’ve smoothed it out. You don’t have to worry about her.”

“You gonna stop worrying about Lucas?” Scott asked, and she rolled her eyes. “Carly? Elizabeth? That’s what I thought. It’s my job to worry about Serena and Kelsey. That’s what I’m doing.” He stopped. “But you’re right. They’re doing just fine.  I get itchy when things are going well.”

“Enjoy it,” Bobbie said dryly. “This is Port Charles. It never lasts long.”

Hold on to the memories
They will hold on to you

AJ glanced back into the terrace, as if actually considering who might be thinking about him and Carly, then he looked back at her. “You know, I had a conversation with my brother a few days back. And then we spent Christmas Eve in the same room. I bought gifts for his kid. For his wife. I’m helping him look after that dog he bought Cam.”

Carly frowned. “What?”

“I’m sure there are some people who look at Jason and wonder why he’d ever give me another chance. Sure, he lied about Michael. And then he had an affair with my wife—but I bashed his head on a rock and stole twenty-two years of his life. It’s not really that even when you think about it.”

“He’s not mad at you. He never—” Carly dipped her head, then looked back at him, her eyes damp. “He doesn’t hold it against you. And I think he’s happy with his life now. AJ—”

“People are going to think whatever they want to think. I know what I did. I know what you did. And I can’t make you forgive yourself, Carly. I just know that I like you. I want us to see if we can make this work.” He reached for the lapels of his jacket, used them to tug her closer. “If you don’t want that, Carly, I can live with it. But I think we’ve both done enough penance for the past. Maybe it’s corny, but it’s the new year. Why don’t we give each other a fresh start?”

She smiled tremulously. “You’re probably tired of having this argument with me. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll keep having it until you see yourself the way I see you.” When she tipped her head, her eyes questioning, he added, “Brave. Strong. Beautiful.” When she opened her mouth, likely to deny all three, he cut her off with a kiss, and she sighed, melting into his embrace.

And I will hold on to you

 Olivia spied Lois ducking into the ladies room and decided to follow her. She hummed the bridal march as she pulled open the door but was surprised to find her friend leaning over the sink, her hands flat against the counter. “You okay, babe?”

“Oh.” Lois blinked, turned to her. “Of course. Yes. I’m fine.” She smiled, but it was a bit wobbly. “Livvie, I’m all good. Go have fun.”

“Not on your life.” Olivia wrapped her arms around Lois’s shoulders, met her eyes in the mirror. “Talk to me, kid. You having second thoughts?”

“I just—I had a thought while I was dancing out there.” Lois bit her lip. “Why couldn’t Ned and I have reconnected a long time ago? Before—before.” She closed her eyes. “If we could’ve made it work, maybe Brook would still be here.”

“You’ll drive yourself crazy thinking of that, Lois. You and Ned reconnected because of what happened to your baby girl. And you know she wouldn’t want you to be blaming yourself.”

“Three years. Three and a half years since that day.” Lois exhaled slowly. “I’m all right, Liv. I just had that thought, and it took over. I’m gonna splash some water on my face and head back out there.”

“Hey. Listen. You and Ned, it’s special the way you’ve come back together after all this. Working together to make this a safer city. Don’t lose sight of everything you’ve done since we lost her. All you’ve fought hard for. Including Ned.”

“I won’t.” Lois leaned her head on Olivia’s shoulder. “Love you.”

“Love you right back.”

Please don’t ever become a stranger
Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

 “Oh, sure, this time it’ll be different.” Maxie rolled her eyes. “This time you won’t get back together as soon as you’re in the same town together.”

Georgie scowled. “I’m serious, Maxie. We’re really breaking up this time. We were already broken up, but now it’ll be like a country and an ocean apart. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Blah, blah, blah—that’s all I ever hear.” Maxie elbowed Lulu, sitting next to her. “Lu, tell her. Tell her we don’t believe her.”

“What?” Lulu dragged her eyes from Dante and Serena chatting across the room. “What? Who? What?”

Maxie followed her eyes. “Oh, listen, he’s just talking to her. And she’s blonde, so even if he was into her, it’s only because he has a type. Focus. We’re making fun of Georgie now.”

Please don’t ever become a stranger
Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

 Lucky laughed, then spun Emily into a circle, catching Kelsey and Cruz dancing over her shoulder. Then he looked back down at his friend. His first real one. “You ever think about how much trouble we used to get into?”

Emily rolled her eyes, grinning. “Don’t remember me. I’m just thinking about Spencer’s teen years. If he’s anything like us, we’re absolutely screwed. How many dead bodies did we find before we were legally old enough to drink?”

“Well, at least we’ll know all the tricks he’ll try,” Lucky said. “We’ll be one step ahead of them. And a Quartermaine/Cassadine offspring? We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

 There’s glitter on the floor after the party
Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

 Renee bounced up from the sofa as soon as Jason opened the door, ushering Elizabeth through the door first. Her brown hair, which she’d finally started to grow out again after a few years of wearing it short, swung over her shoulder. “Hey! Cam’s asleep. He went down so easy.”

“Thank you so much,” Elizabeth said, crossing the room to hug Renee. “Really, it was such a good night, and I could rest easy knowing he was safe with you.” She squeezed Renee’s hands. “Did he have fun?”

“Yeah. He showed me all the pictures of his new dog. And thank you, it was a lot of fun.” Renee smiled nervously at Jason who’d busied himself hanging up their coats. He knew Renee was still a little jumpy around men, and he was careful to keep his distance. “Any time.”

Elizabeth pressed some cash into her hand, and Renee tried to hand it back. “No, no, really, it was fun, and I owe you so much—”

“You owe me nothing.” Elizabeth shook her head, closed Renee’s hand around the money. “You were a lifesaver tonight. Will you stop by the group before you head back to school?”

“Yeah. I will. Thanks.”

“Milo will drive you home,” Jason said, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “He’s in the lobby.” He paused. “Along with his sister.”

“Oh.” Renee smiled. “Thank you. Thank you for—thank you.” She slid into her coat and left.

Elizabeth looked at him. “I forgot about that—she’d never drive home with Milo on her own—”

“I listen when you talk.” He kissed her, then held her close. “I’m sorry that she’s still having trouble.”

“Some women never get over it,” Elizabeth murmured. She closed her eyes, leaned into his embrace. “But I was lucky. I hope she finds someone she feels safe with one day.”

“Me, too.”

Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor
You and me, forevermore

 Carly turned at the front door to the Brownstone, her key in hand. “Um, so as first dates go, other than my meltdown on the terrace, it wasn’t so bad.”

“I think it was good.” AJ kissed her again, and her lashes fluttered. “Want to do it again?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” She opened her eyes, smiled at him. “Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

 Don’t read the last page
But I stay when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or we’re making mistakes

 Elizabeth cracked Cameron’s door open just enough to see him sprawled out on his bed, face smushed into the pillow. On his night table sat his digital photo frame, currently flashing a photo of Cameron holding his puppy, now named Teddy as he’d told Santa, with Jason sitting on one side of him and Alan on the other.

Jason slid his arm around her waist, his hand resting warm against the curve of her belly. She covered his with her own and leaned back against his chest. “I just had this feeling,” she said softly. “It just…washed over me.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be okay. This baby. The pregnancy. This time. It’s going to be okay.” She exhaled slowly. “You probably think that’s silly—”

“No. I don’t.” He kissed the side of her neck, just below her ear. She closed her eyes. “If you say it, then I’ll believe it.”

I want your midnights
But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day

 Lucky emerged from the bedroom, pulling at his tie, and found Kelsey standing by the tree. “Hey. I thought you were coming to bed.”

“I am.” She smiled at him over her shoulder and held up the ornament she’d wanted to throw away. Baby’s First Christmas, 2006. “I was thinking we should hang this. At least this year.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She lifted it to a branch and slid the hook over the pine needles. “I know it was only a few weeks that we even knew about the baby, and it really wasn’t much more than a clump of cells and a heartbeat—”

“Kelse—”

“But it was real to us. For a little while. Long enough to dream. To hope. To plan. I don’t want to forget that.” She took a deep breath. “So we’ll hang it this year, and we’ll see how we feel next Christmas.”

Lucky kissed her knuckles. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

 Hold on to the memories
They will hold on to you

 “I don’t think I can do it,” Lulu said, following Maxie down the hallway to the hotel room they’d reserved the night, wanting to be able to drink as much as they pleased. Her heels clacked against each other as she carried them. “I can’t watch him date someone else, marry, and have babies—”

“Well, you’re gonna have to—” Maxie slid the key card in, pushed open the door. “Or you can come with me.”

“Come with you?” Lulu dumped her shoes on the chair as soon as they came in and sat on the edge of the bed. “Where?”

Maxie bounced onto the bed, her eyes sparkling. “New York. I was going to tell you tomorrow, but why the hell not now? I heard back from Couture.”

Lulu’s eyes widened. “Couture? Oh my God, oh my God! You got the internship?”

“I got the internship!” Maxie squealed.  They both leapt to their feet, squealing and shrieking. “I’m going to work with Kate Howard! Kate freaking Howard, one of America’s 100 Most Influential Women!”

“That is the most amazing thing ever!”

“And you’re going to come with me. We’re going to New York City, Lulu Spencer, and we’re going to have a damned good time. Are you in?”

Hold on to the memories
They will hold on to you

 The clock ticked towards three in the morning, and the house had once again fallen quiet. Alan and Monica had gone to bed, AJ had come home—

But Edward was still awake, his sleep troubled since he’d woken that summer morning to find his beloved Lila had passed in her sleep. He walked the halls of the house, hoping the insomnia would pass, and tonight he stood in the family room, with an aged whiskey in his hand, the fire still crackling, the lights of the tree flickering behind him.

“Ah, my darling,” he said, looking at photo of Lila, smiling back at him. “You were missed at every turn this year, but I hope I did you proud. I’ll do my best to love them as you did, with an open heart and endless grace.” He smiled faintly. “I can’t promise success, but I’ll try. And I know you’re smiling down, looking after us all.” He kissed the tip of his fingers, pressed them to the photo. “And if you have any sway up there, if you could put in a good word to for our newest great-grandson? And his mother? If you have anything to say about it, I know you’ll see it done. I love you.”

Hold on to the memories

Whether Elizabeth’s feeling that night had held true or Edward’s hope for a divine interference came to pass, a little over four months later, Jason stood outside a hospital room, looking towards the elevators. Waiting.

Bobbie came around the corner, Cameron’s hand in hers. When Cameron caught sight of his father, he started to run, and Jason swept him up in his arms.

“Daddy, daddy! Grammy says we have baby.”

“Yeah. We have a baby.” Jason looked at Bobbie who was grinning broadly. “You ready to meet him?”

They will hold on to you

Inside the hospital room, Elizabeth sat up, her face pale, and eyes tired. Her hair was tied back, loose tendrils curling around the blue band stretched across her forehead. In her arms, she held a swaddled bundle with a little red face.

Bobbie pressed her hands over her cheeks. “Oh—”

“Cameron—” Elizabeth smiled as Jason lifted their son up. “Meet your little brother. Jacob Alan Morgan. Seven pounds, three ounces. And absolutely perfect.”

Cameron made a face. “Mommy, he don’ts got any arms.”

Elizabeth laughed, tears sliding down her face as Jason tried to explain swaddling to a three-year-old. Cameron didn’t quite understand, but he promised he’d love his little brother and hope he’d grow arms really soon.

Bobbie came around the side of the bed, pressed a kiss to her forehead. “He’s lovely, honey. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Hungry. Sore,” Elizabeth admitted. She looked over to her husband and her son. “I feel great. Absolutely wonderful. This is everything I ever wanted.”   

And I will hold on to you

THE END


 

Thank you for joining me in another entry in this universe. I really love playing with these characters, and as you can see, I dropped some bread crumbs to give me some hooks for another series, if I decide to come back to it. There’s a lot of characters we didn’t check in with, but I already went way over word count for this (Supposed to be a quick little holiday story — and it ended up being 46K!) and we had to stop somewhere. I have some thoughts of where I’d take another series in this world, but let me you know what you think by leaving a comment or hitting the thumbs up button!

January 9, 2024

This entry is part 6 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

There’s something in the wind today
That’s good for everyone
Yes, faith is in our hearts today
We’re shining like the sun
And everyone can feel it, the feeling’s running deep
After all, there’s only one more sleep ’til Christmas

One More Sleep ‘Til Christmas, Muppet Christmas Carol


Sunday, December 23, 2006

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

AJ crouched down next to the crate, peering inside. “You know, if I had ever thought about what kind of dog you’d get, I don’t think this would have made the top ten.”

Jason grunted, flicked open the door, and waited for the puppy to come to him. He gently lifted it, then stood. “All the other breeds were too active,” he said, cradling him. “Cameron’s still not…he’s doing better than he was, but—”

“No, that makes sense. You don’t want a dog that will outrun him.” AJ folded his arms, scrutinized the dog. “He looks like a pile of wrinkles.”

“That’s what I thought.” Jason stroked the English bulldog puppy, who yipped, then licked Jason’s forearm. “Uh, listen, Carly told me you agreed to help Monica with him…I really, uh, appreciate it.”

“Yeah, sure.” AJ cleared his throat. “We’re okay, right? I mean, you and me. Not friends,” he added quickly when Jason eyed him. “But we’re done with the rest of it. Civil.”

“Yeah. We’re good.” Jason hooked the leash to the dog’s collar. “I’m gonna take him into the garden before I have to go.” He winced, already irritated that he’d decided to have this conversation. “Do you have a minute? There’s something I wanted to run past you.”

“Sure.” AJ snagged his coat, then followed Jason out towards Lila’s rose garden. “How’s Elizabeth feeling?” When Jason looked at him sharply, AJ lifted his brows. “I know, I’m not supposed to know. I overheard Mom and Em talking about it this morning.”

“Is there anyone who doesn’t?” Jason asked dryly. He set the puppy on the ground, held the leash in his hand, watched him sniff and consider the soil. “She’s good. We’re telling everyone tonight. Carly already knows,” he added, absently.

“I figured that. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Jason exhaled slowly. “Listen. There’s something I want to say to you, and I don’t want to have this conversation at all—” He met his brother’s curious eyes. “With anyone ever. So just let me say it, and don’t say anything back so it can be over.”

“Okay,” AJ drawled uncertainly.

“When you came back, you could have made it worse for Carly,” Jason said. He dropped his eyes to the ground, kept them on the puppy exploring the lengths of the leash. “You didn’t. I wasn’t really…I couldn’t be there for her. I know you were. And with Michael. I…I made choices back then. I wouldn’t—it’s hard to regret them,” he admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Because of Michael. But I know I didn’t have a right to those months. I know that. But I can’t be sorry for them.”

“I’m not asking you to—”

“But he’s happy, and that’s all I ever really wanted for him. You could have made it harder. Pushed Carly for more time. You didn’t do any of that.”

“It seemed like the last thing she needed.” AJ folded his arms, his brow furrowed. “And I figured we’d work our way up. We did. What’s the reason for all this—”

“Carly’s been through a lot. You know that. And she’d be mad as hell if she knew I was saying any of this,” Jason muttered. He rubbed his brow. “But she’s having trouble forgiving herself for what happened. And don’t waste your breath telling me or her that she did nothing wrong with Sonny.” He grimaced. “I just—I hate this.”

“Look, I think maybe I know where you’re going with this,” AJ said, and Jason looked up, startled. “I’m not a complete idiot, Jase, though I understand if you don’t have a lot of evidence to support that. Carly matters to me. More than I thought she ever would,” he admitted. “And that’s been an adjustment, I’m sure, for both of us. I’m not looking to make her life more difficult. That’s all I can really promise.”

“That’s…that’s all I want. I…” Jason forced himself to continue. “It was bad for all of us,” he said finally. “But I walked away with everything I wanted. Elizabeth and Cam—they recovered. I don’t know if Carly can say the same. But I wish she could. So…that’s all I wanted to say.”

Spencer House: Living Room

“Hey, I’m back!” Lu called, shrugging out of her jacket. “Maxie’s mom said hi, by the way—”

“I’ll have to call her after the holidays.” Laura emerged from the kitchen, backing out with a tray of appetizers in her hands. She set them on the dining table by the stairs. “Did you—”

“Yes, I got the wine—” Lulu held up the bottle. “Do you need any other help? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, he’s still at the club.” Laura returned to the kitchen, and Lulu followed. “He promised to be here before dinner—”

“Yeah, I guess people want to enjoy themselves on Christmas Eve. Honestly, kind of wish I were there.” Lulu made a face and sat at the dining table. “Not that I don’t love being with you and Dad. And everyone coming over later, but it’s just…you know, sometimes you’re in the mood for a lot of people. And sometimes you’re not.”

“And this is the first Christmas without Dante since you started dating,” Laura said. She brought her tea to the table, sat down. “Have you talked to him since you went to the funeral?”

“I didn’t even talk to him there,” Lulu muttered. She traced the wood grain of the table with the tip of her thumb. “Haven’t since I went to the station. He didn’t really want me there.”

“Honey—”

“Or maybe he did, and he didn’t want to want me there. Or whatever.” She bit her lip. “Mom, do you ever regret having kids?”

Laura considered the question carefully, leaning back in her chair. “There’s not a mother alive who doesn’t have random thoughts about it. Being a parent demands so much of your time and your energy. The idea of being alone — you lose that. And for women, it’s harder. Because society expects so much from you. More than they do from fathers, that’s for sure. So, yes, there were moments of regret. But, no, Lulu, I don’t regret any of my kids. Even Nikolas, though I’m sure he doubts me. I see him as a gift from a terrible time.”

“Do you think I’d be a good mother?”

“I think you have a lot of love to give. And when you do love someone, you’re relentless. Fearless.” Laura tipped her head. “Those are important qualities to be a parent. But you also have to give away a piece of yourself forever. So do I think you’d be a good mother? Of course. But that doesn’t mean you should be one.”

Lulu nodded. “Yeah, that’s kind of where I’m at on this. I think maybe one day, I could see myself doing it. You know, maybe just having one kid so there’s still room for me. But, um, I think maybe Dante wants more than that. And he wants it now. There’s so much I want to do. I still don’t really know what I want for my life. I thought maybe I’d want to take over Dad’s club one day, but he’ll die in that stupid place, and I don’t think I want to be in a bar anyway. Or right now.”

She sighed. “I’m finished college, so I did what you guys wanted. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, you know? Like what’s the future? It’d be so easy to just…Dante has a plan. He knows what he wants tomorrow to look like, so maybe if I don’t know, I could just go with his. But it’s not what I want. I don’t know what I want, but I know it’s not getting married and having kids already.”

“You’re not obligated to have all the answers right now, honey. Sometimes it is enough to know what you don’t want.”

“Dante and I have been circling this thing for almost a year. Ever since I filed for graduation, and I started thinking about what was next. He wanted us to move in together, and I was okay with that. But then he started setting out this timetable. Like, maybe we could get married by our third anniversary, and then it was how many kids do you want, and it was just—” Lulu held up her hands. “Too much. And maybe too late. Maybe we should have talked about this before—”

“And maybe you talked about it when it made sense. Lu, you don’t have to feel guilty about not wanting the same things that Dante does. I hope he’s not making you feel that way—”

“No. At least he doesn’t mean to. I’m just…I’m sad.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sad that we want something so completely different. It’s not like, well, he wants to eat at Eli’s and I want the Grille. It’s — he wants to produce tiny humans and dedicate the rest of his life to making them into good people, and I would rather eat glass.” She met her mother’s kind gaze. “We have to break up, don’t we?”

“I think so, honey. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too. Um, is it okay if I dip out after dinner? I want to…I think I just want to deal with it tonight. I’ve put it off enough.”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

The front parlor with the Christmas tree and the presents wasn’t large enough to hold the entire Quartermaine family and its extended relatives, so the party spilled out into the foyer. For the last two Christmases, there had been too many people for a traditional sit-down meal in the dining room, so they’d organized a buffet table that was picked over through the late afternoon and evening.

Children were everywhere, Monica thought, stepping in from the study and smiling as Michael chased his younger brother around the table in the middle of the room, Morgan dodging his advances, clutching something in his hands. Likely the last cookie or brownie or something similar.

Kristina, who had just celebrated her fourth birthday, was clapping her hands and cheering Morgan on. Cameron, so rarely out from under his parents’ careful eyes, was following Michael, his favorite cousin, blocking Morgan from making an escape back into the parlor.

Spencer, the youngest and newest addition to the crew was barely mobile, though he could pull himself up without any help. He was in the parlor, his chubby hands gripping the side of the sofa, his big brown eyes looking at the richly decorated Christmas tree.

Monica stood in the double door entrance, just enjoying the murmurs of conversation around the room, the holiday music playing low in the background. Elizabeth was by the Christmas tree, adjusting ornaments so it would be perfect. She was chatting enthusiastically with Lois, probably about the free clinic that ELQ and GH were co-sponsoring. Knowing Lois, she’d probably convinced Ned to get the city involved with the grants.

Emily was watching Spencer, trying not to hover while Nikolas sat on the sofa, one hand on Spencer’s back but turned towards Edward and Alexis, talking about the latest hospital board meeting. Jason stood, somewhat uncomfortable by the windows, half listening to Carly and Bobbie, but his attention on Elizabeth, worried she was doing too much. AJ and Ned were arguing about an ELQ project — though Ned had stepped down after he’d been elected mayor, it had been difficult to stay out entirely.

The only members of their extended family missing were Justus and his wife, Tamika, though he’d been sure to stop by before heading down to Philadelphia for the holidays to see the rest of the Wards and Tamika’s family.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Alan murmured, sliding an arm around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Just watching everyone. All our kids are here. Their kids are here.” Tears stung her eyes. “But I miss your mother.”

“So do I. But look at the legacy’s she’s left behind. There were times when this family was held together by nothing more than Mother’s grace and some cheap glue. I think she held on long enough to be sure we’d be all right.”

“You may be right.” Monica caught Jason’s eye. “Oh, you’d better go get the puppy. And make sure the note is on his collar—”

“I’ll be right back.”

Monica crossed the room to Elizabeth, took her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. I’m looking forward to tomorrow. Cameron’s going to be so excited—” Elizabeth stopped when Alan appeared in the doorway, holding a puppy. “Oh—”

“Cameron?” Alan called. The room quieted, and Alan repeated his grandson’s name. Cameron, who’d gone to his other grandmother, Bobbie, turned, and his eyes were very big as he looked towards the door and realized what was cradled in his grandfather’s arms.

“Puppy.” Cameron took a step towards the door. “That’s a doggy. You have doggy, Grampy?”

“Well, it’s the strangest thing,” Alan said, moving over to an armchair and sitting down. Cameron followed, his eyes not moving from the wrinkly English bulldog. “I found him in the foyer with your name on his collar.” He showed Cameron the little white tag attached to the puppy’s blue collar.

“That say me?” Cameron asked, touching the tag with his little finger.

“To Cameron, from Santa—”

Cameron’s eyes just widened even further, his mouth dropping. He pressed his hands to his face. “Santa bring me doggy? Mommy.” He twisted in search of his mother, and found Elizabeth who had moved to Alan’s side, her eyes shimmering. “Mommy, Santa bring me doggy.”  He turned the other direction to find his father. “Daddy, look what Santa bring.”

“I can see that.” Jason swept Cameron up to sit in Alan’s lap and the toddler reached out a tentative hand to the puppy who licked Cameron’s fingers. He giggled.

“Tickles. He my puppy? I get to take?”

“Well—” Jason crouched next to the chair, in Cameron’s sight line so that he didn’t have to look away from the dog. “I think maybe the puppy has to live here with Grampy and Grammy. That’s why Santa brought him here. At least until we can get him a backyard to run in.”

Cameron furrowed his brow, but his father’s logic seemed sound. If Santa wanted him to have a dog at home, he’d have brought it there. “When we get yard?”

“Soon,” Jason promised. “Until then, I’ll bring you here every day to visit with him. You’ll be able to walk him and feed him. And everyone here will take care of him, right?”

“Of course. We’ll look after him as if he were ours,” Alan pledged. He kissed the top of Cameron’s head. “We’re honored to help.”

“I play with puppy now?” Cameron asked. “Mikey, I gots puppy.”

Jason lowered Cameron to the floor and set him and the dog in a mostly empty corner where most of the children flocked to pet and cuddle with him.

“Thank you,” Jason said to his father. “For doing that—” He cleared his throat. “For all of it.”

“Of course. And I meant that Jason, I was honored to be asked. We’d do anything for Cameron.”

Jason turned to Elizabeth, whose tears were quietly streaming down her cheeks, as she held her clasped hands in front of her. The room was filled with conversations again, so he pulled her into the foyer to find a more quiet place. “I told you I’d find a way.”

“You did. You absolutely did. And you made it magical for him.” She beamed up at him, so he knew these were happy tears. He could handle those. “I know you don’t really get the Santa thing as much, but—”

“I do. He’d have loved the dog no matter who got it for him, but—” Jason looked back to the room to see Cameron lovingly stroking the little dog, with Monica hovering in case any of the kids got rough or the puppy seemed stressed. “Carly told me there’d be something special about watching him get a gift from Santa.”

“And making Alan part of it. It was just…it was perfect.” She leaned up, kissed him. “Just like I knew it would be—”

“Well, that’s only part of it. We need that backyard.” Jason went to the coat closet where their coats hung and retrieved a piece of paper. “That’s the name of a real estate agent. We have an appointment after New Year’s to start looking. And she’s put aside a few places for us to start.”

“I don’t know how you do it. I really—I just wish I had something nearly as good to give to you—”

“You give plenty. You always have.” He kissed her knuckles. “Do you want to go tell them before Emily can’t keep the secret anymore?”

“Yes.” Elizabeth grinned brightly, then tugged him back towards the parlor. “Um, if I can get everyone’s attention for just, like, two minutes?” When the room quieted, and eyes were on her, she continued, “Jason and I just wanted to announce that we’re having another baby. A little boy due in May.”

The room exploded in cheers and clapping, and Edward abandoned whomever he was talking to, and made a beeline for Elizabeth, taking her hand in his. “My dear, what wonderful news. Wonderful, wonderful.” His smile faltered for just a moment. “Lila would have been overjoyed for you.”

“I know.” She kissed his cheek. “But she’ll always be in our hearts, and you’ll be here to tell all the kids about her.” Elizabeth released him, then went to talk to Nikolas and Emily, leaving Jason with his grandfather.

“Congratulations, my boy,” Edward said gruffly. “You chose a shining jewel, though I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No,” Jason said, for once in complete agreement with his grandfather. He looked across the room to see Elizabeth had moved on and was hugging Carly. “No, you don’t have to tell me how lucky I am.”

Spencer House: Living Room

Across town, another home was filled nearly to the brim, especially as some latecomers moved from one holiday gathering to the next.

Bobbie beamed as Luke helped her out of her jacket. “You should have seen him, Luke! I don’t think I’ve seen a little boy so excited by a gift from Santa as Cameron.”

“Nice touch, leaving the dog at the mansion.” Luke tossed it over the hook. “Makes it easier to believe it’s from Santa. Jason’s crazy to take on a dog in a penthouse—”

“Oh, Elizabeth is already working on that, I’m sure.” Bobbie patted Luke’s chest, then went down into the living room proper where Lulu was watching Lucas show off a card trick while Felix refilled drinks — he never knew how to relax and be a guest, even after three Christmases. “Did I miss anything?”

“Well, Lucas and I are thinking about trying to get Daddy liquored up enough to do that old Nurse’s Ball performance. You know the one we did with Mary Mae.” Lucky handed her a drink. “Nikolas and Emily on their way?”

“They’ll be here for dessert. Elizabeth announced she was pregnant just before I had to leave, so I think they got a little distracted.” Bobbie was already turning away and didn’t notice how Kelsey’s smiled dimmed slightly, and Lucky touched her arm.

“Oh, Elizabeth’s having another baby? Is that safe?” Felix asked. “She had such a rough time with the little guy.” He sat on the arm of Lulu’s chair. “But good for her.”

“It’s like baby rabies around here lately,” Lulu muttered. “Is everyone obsessed with having one?”

“Not me,” Lucas said and she whacked his arm.

Laura brushed her hand against Kelsey’s back, gave her a warm smile. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with having or not having babies. As long as everyone is happy with how their lives turned out.” She sent Luke a meaningful look, and after all these years of marriage, he knew that she wanted him to distract everyone.

“You know what? I was thinking maybe the Cowboy has a point. Let’s break out the midnight train to Georgia. Anyone want to help out and do Mary Mae’s part? Barbara Jean?”

Quartermaine Estate: Foyer

Carly bent down to shove another scrap of wrapping paper into the large plastic bag in her hand. The evening had started to wind down after Elizabeth’s announcement, and the kids had dove into their presents. Her mother had headed to her uncle Luke’s, and Nikolas and Emily had followed a bit later with Spencer.

Jason and Elizabeth had torn Cameron away from his new dog — still unnamed as of yet — but not before Carly had taken some photos and set up his new digital photo frame. He’d been clutching it in his hands as his father had bundled him into his coat and carried him towards the door.

“The gifts are in the car—” AJ stopped, leaned against the frame of the double doorway. “You don’t have to do that.”

“My kids were half of the mess,” Carly reminded him. “Or a third. I don’t really know how the math works out.”

“Two-fifths, even though Spencer didn’t really do a lot of tearing. Next year, though, he’ll do his part.” AJ straightened. “The cars are packed up, and if we can drag the boys away from the dessert table in the dining room, we might be able to get them home before the sugar crash happens.”

Carly stopped for a second, closed her eyes, the words washing over her. If we can drag the boys…get them home…

Like they were a unit. A team.

She knew all the reasons it couldn’t happen. Why she could never, ever let it happen, but, oh, man, she needed to get out of here and stop dreaming. The holidays needed to be over so that the cold reality could hit.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Um, it’s really nice of everyone to look after Morgan the way they do.” Carly set the trash bag by the door, then held her hands behind her back. “I mean, I’m not surprised Jason and Elizabeth go all out for him, but I saw gifts from you, from Ned and Lois. And your parents. And Emily, too. They really don’t have to—”

“Morgan’s part of the family. He’s Michael’s brother. And he’s a great kid.” AJ tipped his head. “Just the way Bobbie goes all out for Cameron.”

“That’s—that’s different, right? Because Mama and Elizabeth are close. And she’s always had soft spot for Jason. Your family has no reason to do this — especially when I know they’ve been frustrated with how little time Michael spends here. It needs to be more,” Carly said. “I know that. And we should talk about it.”

“It’s hard, though,” AJ said, “because every night Michael’s here, he’s not with Morgan. And I know it’s important to you that they’re together. They’re brothers.”

She smiled faintly, folded her arms. “I don’t get to have that luxury. My boys have different fathers. You’re in Michael’s life, and that’s the way it should be. I don’t expect you to look after Morgan.”

“Yeah, but I like him, so—” AJ shrugged. “And my parents are easier with you, Carly. They just…they missed a lot of time. And with losing Grandmother this last summer—” His chest tightened, and he took another breath. “They’re just thinking about not losing more time. I get that. We don’t always have the time we expect, you know? We shouldn’t take any of it for granted.”

“Right.” Carly nodded, then started past him, intent on gathering up the boys and heading home, but AJ put a hand on her arm and stopped her. “What? Did I forget something?”

“Look up.” AJ lifted his eyes at the same time she did, and she bit her lip, her heart pounding.

Mistletoe. God damn Quartermaines.

“I didn’t notice that before.” Carly met his eyes briefly, before looking away. She brushed her lips against his cheek, then took two steps into the foyer.

“I don’t think so.” AJ took her elbow, swung her back and she fell into his arms—and he kissed her. Softly. Gently. His hands weren’t touching her anymore, not holding her in place, just raised in the air, caging her in all the same.

Carly went still, almost frozen beneath his lips, and she realized suddenly she couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed her. When had she last been held? Her throat was tight, and she couldn’t breathe.

AJ drew back slightly. “Should I apologize?” he asked, his words little more than a murmur, his breath warm against her lips.

“No. I just—” She kept her eyes closed, wanted to stay just like this forever. The comfort of his warmth, the safety she felt in this moment. She clutched at his sleeves. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea. For you. I always mess things up for you.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“That makes one of us.” Disconcerted by all of it, Carly stepped back, her eyes on his—surprised to see nothing but concern mixed with something a bit more—something she wasn’t ready to label. “We should get the boys, right? Before the crash.”

“Yeah. Let’s get them home.”

Dante & Cruz’s Apartment: Living Room

Olivia wagged her fork, flecks of cheesecake clinging to the tines, “I tell her, Lois, you don’t have to tell everyone it was my naked ass in the window. Can’t you keep anything to yourself?”

Lois, perched on the armchair, her own dessert in her hands, gasped. “Liv, you’re not even telling the story right! That’s not what I told anyone! I never told anyone it was your ass.” She smirked. “I said it was Connie’s.”

“Man, why do we always gotta end on a story about your misspent youth?” Dante asked with a shudder. “Ma. Can’t you tell any other kind of story?”

“Lois started it,” Olivia muttered.

“And Connie deserved it!” Lois said. But then she pressed her lips together with a nervous smile. Old stories about Bensonhurst were fun, but inevitably they brushed up against the uncomfortable truth about who Sonny’s father was. Connie was Olivia’s cousin, who had been the woman Sonny had cheated on Olivia with. She’d left Bensonhurst behind and moved to Manhattan with a fancy new name. She never came home anymore.

“Anyway.” Lois set aside her dessert, glanced over at Ned who had joined them for this outing. “We, ah, wanted you all to know—to be the first to know—” she added, “because you know, Ned’s got his family, but I got mine, right? And we called my ma yesterday—”

“Lois.” Olivia arched a brow. “Spit it out.”

“Right. Right. I’m just trying. Um, Ned and I are gonna get married again.” Her cheeks flushed and she tugged a ring from the purse by her side. She slid it on her finger.

Dante scowled. “Seriously?”

“When you get to our age,” Ned started, and was immediately elbowed by his ex-wife, new fiancée, “well, it’s not like we have a lot of time to waste.” He was perched on the arm of Lois’s chair. “And I think most people can say they saw this coming.”

Cruz grumbled and slipped a twenty to Olivia who beamed. “I won! I knew you wouldn’t make it to the end of the year without making it public. Dante, I’ll expect your portion of the pool as soon as possible. And you get the others on the line—”

“Yeah, yeah, Elizabeth is gonna be mad. She had February—and Maxie just missed it by like a week—”

Lois’s mouth gaped. “You are all impossible!”

Dante was still laughing when he headed to answer the door, thinking maybe Lucky and Kelsey had changed their minds about dessert. Instead, he found Lulu in the hallway, and swallowed hard.

“Um, hey. Oh, you’re busy. Of course you’re busy. It’s Christmas Eve.” Her cheeks were bright red. “This was stupid. It’s stupid—”

“No, Lu…” Dante stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed. “It’s not stupid. It’s weird not to have you around for this.”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms, looked down the hallway. “I, um, came over because I think maybe we just need to do this. And I know it’s crazy to say it right now with the holiday and all, but, like, maybe we don’t need to keep drawing this out. There’s always a holiday or birthday, right? We could put this off for years if we use the calendar right.”

“Lu—”

“Because I think we know what’s happening. We just don’t want to say it.” Miserable, she looked at him. “I wish I could tell you that I want the life you want. I wish I could tell you I could want it in five years. Maybe I will, right? Things are weird. People change. But you don’t need to wait around for a maybe. That’s not fair. It’s just hard because I love you so much and this would be easier if you sucked. So maybe you could go cheat on me, and I could hate you.”

Dante smiled, because even now, at the end, with Lulu Spencer, there was laughter. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And if I thought it was just a few more years, maybe we could keep doing this. But I want the boring stuff, Lu. The family. The kids. The car and garage. I can’t wait for that. And you don’t want it. You never did. That’s okay. I want you to be happy. And domestication? That’s not my Lesley Lu. It never could be. You’d gnaw your leg off in, like, a year.”

She smiled, even as her beautiful eyes shimmered. “I would, probably. But I’d feel sorry about it. You loved me for me, you know? The parts of me that drove everyone else crazy. You liked them anyway. Once you got used to them. I think maybe I can’t see anyone else doing that.”

He drew her into his arms, and they stood there, foreheads pressed against each other. “You were the center of my world when everything else was falling apart. You kept me steady. You kept me sane. And you pushed me back into the work I love. I don’t have what I have today if you don’t stand by me back then.”

“I wanted to bite your ass, so it was worth it.”

He laughed, then kissed her through both of their tears. “I love you, Lu. You be happy, okay? Promise me that.”

“Well, it’s gonna be hard, you know, since you won’t be there. But yeah, I want that for you, too. You find that girl who deserves you. Who loves you even when you brood and doesn’t let you get down on yourself.” She brushed away the tear on his cheek, cupping his face one last time. “You deserve the best. Don’t settle for anything less.”

“You either.”

Brownstone: Carly’s Apartment

With the last stack of gifts perched against her hip, Carly slowly edged her front door closed, and smiled nervously at AJ by the Christmas tree putting the finishing touches on Michael’s new bike. “This is the last of it. I’m sure Lucas and Felix will be happy to get their living room back.”

AJ reached for the stack in her hands, and she jolted when his arm brushed hers. “Mix, Michael, or Morgan?”

“Mix.” Carly took the top three. “The bottom is for Morgan.” She set hers down by Michael’s side of the tree, and AJ found places for the rest. “I went overboard again.” She folded her arms, rubbing them absently. “I should work on that. All those Christmases growing up, you know? I, um, overcompensate.” She glanced over, found him looking at her, then quickly averted her eyes back to the tree. “I was thinking after the holidays, after Jason and Elizabeth figure out where they wanna move, maybe looking in that area. Morgan and Cam will start school together—”

“You know, you can breathe anytime,” AJ said, and she closed her mouth. “You’re nervous.” His lips curved into a slow smile. “I don’t mind that.”

“Oh, hell.” She bit her lip. “Damn it. Yes, you make me nervous. Because I haven’t—I always screw this up, and I don’t get it right. I haven’t even tried to do this in years, and the last new relationship I was in—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ve never had a normal one. Not the way you see on TV. Just two people being interested in each other and—I really need to shut up.”

“It’s not like I’m a shining example at this either,” he pointed out. “First serious girlfriend let my dad pay her off. Then I tried to date my brother’s ex, and, well, you know the rest of it.”

“Yeah, you and Jase need to stop dating each other’s girlfriends,” Carly muttered. Keisha, Carly, Courtney.

“I don’t think I have to worry about that.” AJ sat on the arm of the sofa. “I think maybe he and Elizabeth are the real thing, you know? Not like my parents. They figured it out, but they divorced two or three times.” He squinted. “I lost count how many times they sat me and Jase down to tell us they’d always love us, but they didn’t love each other.”

“I forget that sometimes.” Carly sat in one of the armchairs. “They seem so together now. Stable. But it really wasn’t always like that.”

“Once Dad kicked the pill addiction, yeah, he and Mom finally stopped having affairs. I’m glad they ended up together, and they seem happy now, but it wasn’t fun growing up that way. But my grandparents—that’s different.”

“Didn’t Edward have illegitimate children?”

“Just the two. Bradley Ward — his mother, Mary Mae, was before my grandmother was born. And Jimmy Lee.” AJ wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, maybe not them either. Okay, either way, I don’t see Elizabeth being available in my lifetime.”

“Me, either.” Carly clasped her hands together in her lap. “Listen, AJ, we should just forget it. We worked really hard to be okay with each other. Michael deserves that from us. These last few years, it’s the most stable he’s been.”

“Yeah, it’s something to keep in mind, and he needs to be the number one priority for both of us. Which means I don’t burn down any warehouses and you don’t—” he hesitated.

“Jump into bed with someone else,” Carly said with a sigh. “The mess I made of my life back then.” She rubbed her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. At any point. Sonny never really respected me. Maybe he loved me, but I’m not sure he ever liked me.”

“I like you. Not when we were married, so much,” AJ added. “But I liked you before, when we were friends.”

“Before I drugged you and made you think you were drinking. AJ, how can you possibly think—”

“One day, you should let me tell you about how my dad tried to kill my mom the first time.”

“The first time—” Distracted, Carly let AJ pull her to her feet. “I thought we weren’t going to be like your parents. Or your grandparents.” He tugged her into his arms, and she didn’t stop him. She didn’t want to.

“We already did that part. You know, I think I had it wrong. We are like them. We’re just not going to keep making the same mistakes. We had the first bad marriage where we hurt each other—”

“I hurt you,” Carly said dully. “I drew the first blood.”

“Yeah. But I shouldn’t have married you. We didn’t love each other.”

Carly bit her lip. “Do you think we could…I mean, could that—”

“I think I like who I grew up to be,” AJ said softly, their eyes meeting. She smiled faintly. “And I like who you are. So, yeah. Neither of us are quite who we were seven years ago, Carly.”

“No, we’re not.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I don’t know how to do this part. I never started anything normally.”

“Well, first—” AJ dipped his head, captured her mouth into another kiss, and this time she responded, sliding her arms up his chest, twining around his neck. He pulled back, his voice not quite steady. “And then I go downstairs to the guest room. Because we’re going to do this right. Not fast. New Year’s. Renaissance Room. Let’s go on a date.”

“Okay.” She smiled tremulously. “Yeah, okay. I’d love to.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth bit her lip and snuck another look over her shoulder towards the stairs. “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”

“We’re not.” Jason steered her away from the door and closed it. “And you don’t need to check on Cameron again. That’s what the baby monitor is for.”

“I’m working on the hovering, I promise.” Elizabeth sat at the vanity table to remove her necklace. “Oh, I was able to find someone for New Year’s. It was hard because literally everyone is going, including Maxie and Georgie. But you remember Renee?”

Jason sat on the bed, removed his shoes. “From your group?” The youngest of Vinnie Esposito’s survivors, she’d been just sixteen the night he’d attacked her in the park. The same age as Elizabeth had been. “I thought she was at college.”

“She came home for break. Anyway, she’s studying to be a preschool teacher with special education certification. I know she’s only a year and a half in, but—” Elizabeth twisted on the stool. “We won’t stay forever. I know you hate crowds.”

“I don’t hate them. I just don’t like the people.” Jason tipped his head. “But you like them, and as long as there’s beer, I can deal with it.”

She bit her lip. “We don’t have to go, you know. We could stay home. Watch the ball drop from the sofa. That could be fun—”

“We do that every year, and you’re asleep by twelve-thirty because you’re so bored.” Jason tugged her up and into his arms. “This year, you wanted to go to the party. I know you want to go. You bought the dress already.”

“How did you—”

“It’s in the closet. Wrapped in special plastic. It’s new, and you’ve talked about this for a month.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then went to the dresser to change.

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth made a face. “I hate that you do so much just because I want to. You go to the Quartermaines because my family sucks. And the dog, and the house—”

“I like both those ideas. And your family does suck. Mine doesn’t. Which is as weird for you as it is for me, so don’t make me say it again.” Jason sighed, turned her with his sweatpants in hand. “Is this about last night? Saying no?”

“Maybe. I know, I know, you like to make me happy, and that makes you happy, but I just—ugh. Never mind. I’m just going to accept that you’re telling me the truth and suck it up. There are worst things than a husband who always says yes. Like a neurotic wife who finds something to worry about because life is too perfect. I have to create problems.”

Jason smiled, because that was the truth of course. He didn’t know why it bothered her so much. He wasn’t hard to please, and if he wanted something, he got it for himself. And he had pretty much everything he wanted. As long as the baby was born healthy, and Elizabeth didn’t get sick again—and Cameron kept progressing—what else could he really want?

Elizabeth went to her closet, pushing open the door, the plastic wrapped around the new dress crinkling. She came out with a square package, wrapped in blue paper with white snowflakes. “Here. I wanted you to open this one tonight. It’s not as good as the dog or the house—”

“I gave you the number for a real estate agent,” Jason reminded her patiently. “I didn’t buy the house.”

“Yeah, but you will. So here.” She held out the package, and he took it, and sat on the bed. He carefully stripped the paper away to reveal two frames, one stacked on the other. On top—

His breath caught, and he stared at the photograph encased in the white matte backdrop. It was black and white, but he could see the colors if he thought about it hard enough. “This is last summer.”

“The last time we saw Lila.” Elizabeth sat next to him. “We put Cameron in her lap, and he cuddled with her. You knelt beside the chair, and you were both smiling at Cam while he laughed—I wanted that moment forever. I knew it wouldn’t be much longer.”

It hadn’t been, Jason thought. The call had come maybe a week after they’d brought Cam for his last weekly tea with Lila, always in her rose garden when the weather was nice. He’d adored his great-grandmother. AJ had made the call — Alan couldn’t compose himself, and Monica had been sitting with Edward. She’d died peacefully in her sleep.

“She was the best of us. It was the one thing the old man and I ever agreed on. The first thing, anyway.” They’d found more in common in the years since Cameron’s birth. Becoming a father—truly a father—had changed the way Jason thought about his entire family. Including that gruff pain in the ass, Edward.

“She’s always in you. I look at you, and I see her eyes. Cameron has them, too. And I hope this baby does. So we’ll always have her.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then carefully set the photograph aside for the second frame beneath it.

“I wasn’t as sure about this one—”

It wasn’t a photograph this time, but a painting. Elizabeth hadn’t spent a lot of time painting these days — but she’d kept her studio prepped for inspiration.

“It’s me and Cameron,” Jason said. She blinked at him. “You’ve been telling me paintings for years. And Cameron has explained every crayon scrawl for six months. I recognize the colors you use for people. The peach for skin and the gold for the hair…” He studied the painting, wanting to understand it without her explanation.

It could have been a deal breaker for some women — a man who would never be able to understand what she drew, something Elizabeth held close to her heart. But not for her. She’d simply help him to see the vision she’d laid out. But he wanted her to know he’d been listening all these years, and he could understand better now. Because of her.

He thought he recognized the colors — the whites and greens — the linens at the hospital. “The NICU?”

Elizabeth beamed, her eyes shining. “Yes! It’s from this picture.” She went over to her dresser and brought it back to him. Now that Jason could compare it, he could pick out the details better. “This was the day he was able to regulate his own temperature and he could get a real bed. No more incubator. I really started to believe he’d be all right. You always insisted I hold him longer, but I convinced you to take at least half the time that day. It’s one of my favorite pictures of you with him.”

“I remember the first time I held him. I, uh, it was that night. The first one. I hadn’t slept in maybe eighteen hours. You were still on the ventilator.” Jason set the photo aside, picked up the painting again. “That was the first time Alan felt like my father.”

“You never told me that.”

“Yeah. He was there when I got upstairs. I didn’t want you or Cameron to be alone, and I couldn’t be everywhere. Not everyone could get into the NICU, so when Edward had to leave, Alan stayed. He was reading to him. He told me that parents try to arrange the world so that nothing ever hurts their kids, and I could understand that. For the first time, I could actually understand how you could go so far down a road thinking you’re doing the right thing for someone you love, and have it go completely wrong. I wasn’t ready to see it with Michael, and I don’t think Alan was either. But I was that night.”

Elizabeth leaned against his shoulder. “I’m glad you had someone. That you had him.”

“That’s something you gave me, you know. Another view of who the Quartermaines are. Ned coming to tell you about being the pressure Floyd used to hide your case, the way Edward reacted to finding that out—Monica being on your case. Being there every step of the way. I had more time with Lila because of that. More time with all of them.”

“You let yourself open that door,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t take credit—”

“I saw the way your family treated you. That Christmas card? They didn’t come to the hospital during the summer. After Vinnie. When Cameron was born. Even your sister. She called you because she could use you. And have you heard from her since she didn’t take the fellowship at Mercy?”

“No.” Elizabeth sighed. “But I don’t miss them.”

“I know. There are worse things in the world than a family who loves you too hard. I set boundaries with them, and they mostly respect it, but I could that because of you.” He held up the painting. “So when you think you don’t give me anything—don’t. I’d buy you a thousand houses and it still wouldn’t equal what you’ve brought to my life.”

“I love you.” She stroked his cheek. “It feels so wrong to say I love you more now than I did at the beginning, because I don’t know how it’s possible.”

“I love you better than I did then,” Jason said and she smiled again. “Because I know you now in ways I didn’t. And I’ll find a way to love you even better tomorrow.”

“How do you always know what to say? I’ll love you better tomorrow, too.”

January 2, 2024

This entry is part 5 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

You’re here where you should be
Snow is falling as the carolers sing
It just wasn’t the same
Alone on Christmas day
Presents, what a beautiful sight
Don’t mean a thing if you ain’t holding me tight
You’re all that I need
Underneath the tree

Underneath the Tree, Kelly Clarkson


Saturday, December 23, 2006

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and grabbed another to dry his hair. “Two days in a row?”

Elizabeth spit out her toothpaste and met his eyes in the mirror with a smirk. “And you doubted me. I told you, all I needed was to get up early once—” She turned around, leaned against the counter, toothbrush still in hand. “Think of how much fun we could have had if you’d just let the alarm wake me up early.”

“I think,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against her neck, just beneath her earlobe, “we did just fine without the extra hour.”

“Mmm, don’t distract me.” Elizabeth pulled away. “I have a thousand things to do before I head over to the house later with the gifts we’re letting Cam open tomorrow. And I’m meeting with Gail for breakfast about the free clinic project—” She set her toothbrush back in the holder, then reached for the bottle of pills that had been her constant companion since she’d nearly died from a pulmonary embolism. She tossed back two, chased it with water.

“Those look different,” Jason said, tossing the damp hair towel into the hamper.

“Yeah, Monica switched them after she found the clot. Not blood thinners, but, um, something to do with whatever the T stood for in CTEPH.” Elizabeth set the bottle back inside the medicine cabinet. “I told you she’s running another scan before the procedure. She’s hoping to break the clot up with meds. Avoid the procedure.”

“Thromboembolic,” Jason supplied. “The T,” he added when she frowned at him. “That’s it stood for.” He took the pills back from the cabinet, read the name. “Then this is a thrombolytic.”

“Sure.”

“Those are the ones that break up the clot. Your heparin was supposed to prevent them.”

She sighed. “You know, I haven’t missed these conversations at all.” She plucked the bottle from his grasp. “I’m only taking these until Tuesday. If they don’t work, Monica is doing the procedure and it’s back on the heparin until I die.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can we not talk about this? I feel fine. I’m not short of breath. I’m not tired. I barely even feel pregnant, except for, you know—” She rested her hand on the bulge beneath her sleep tank. “My clothes not fitting as well anymore.”

“You’re taking thrombolytics,” Jason said, grimly, taking the bottle back. “Did Monica talk to you about the risks?”

“No, because Monica just got out of med school, and I’m an idiot.” She snatched it back, and stalked into the bedroom, and Jason followed her. “Why don’t you just go and call her?”

“Why are you getting angry with me?” he asked. He yanked open a drawer, whipped out a pair of jeans. “I’m just asking about the medication. I wasn’t there when she prescribed it. I didn’t even know thrombolytics came in pill form. I thought they were all IV—”

“I don’t know. Monica said we were changing the medication to break up the clots, and I nodded. I don’t ask her a lot of questions. I’ve never needed to.” She shoved the pills into her purse. “These could be aspirin for all I know. I figure she likes me, she’d like to see our son born without problems, so I trust her to make the right calls. I mean, is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

“No. No.” Jason exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight about this.”

“I don’t either.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, too. You usually do better with all the information, I know that. And it drives you crazy when I don’t ask for it. I just…want to ignore it.”

“Then we will.” Jason took her arms, wound them around his neck and drew her in close. “We will, I promise. It’s the last time I’ll bring it up.”

“Unless I’m not feeling well, and you’ll be the first person I tell.” She kissed him, lingering for a long moment before regretfully pulling back. “I need a shower. I have to get started on that long list, and you need to keep Cameron distracted while I get those gifts out of the closet downstairs.”

“Whatever you want.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Maxie dropped into her chair with a grunt. “No one should get up that early for a flight and deal with the airport, I don’t care if it’s faster than driving.” She peered blearily at her sister, standing over them with an order pad. “All the caffeine in the land. Chop chop.”

Georgie rolled her eyes, tapped her pencil against the pad. “Same for you, Lu?”

“Yeah, make mine a double.” Lu leaned back in her chair, stifled a yawn. “Did you get any sleep in the hotel?”

“No.” Maxie made a face. “I go all the way to New York City, and I end up in a Hilton. Those mattresses are like rocks. When I’m rich and famous, I will only sleep on feathers.”

Georgie returned with two mugs of coffee and a dish with containers of sugar and cream. “I guess I shouldn’t ask how the funeral was.”

“It was a funeral. It was sad.” Lulu scowled. “And his stupid family pissed me off. How could they let his mom sit all by herself at the end of the row? And you just know they wouldn’t let Dante sit with the rest of the family.”

“I hope his grandmother is burning in hell, saving a place for Vinnie and every other Falconieri who took his side,” Maxie muttered. She sipped her coffee, then closed her eyes. “Twenty minutes. I might feel human.”

“Why start now?” Lulu asked, and Maxie flicked the wrapper from her discarded cream container at her.

“Did you and Dante have a chance to talk?” Georgie wanted to know.

“No. No. It wasn’t the time for that. We just went so he’d know…well, so he knew he wasn’t alone. And I don’t even know what to say to him anymore.” Lulu bit her lip. “Maybe I could have one kid, you know? They’re not terrible. Carly’s gremlins seem okay, and Liz’s son is kind of cute.”

“They’re not terrible,” Maxie repeated. She rested her chin on her first, her eyes sparkling. “What a ringing endorsement for motherhood. Remember the last pregnant person we were around?”

“Elizabeth is different. She was sick—”

“And look how much better she was when she stopped being pregnant. Baby just dragged her down. Sure, the little guy is cute,” Maxie said with shrug, “but I’m not putting anything in my body that might kill me. I don’t even smoke.”

“But you do drink,” Georgie pointed out, and Maxie sent her a dirty look. “What? I’m not allowed to point that out?”

“Plus, pregnancy just messes with your body. The stretch marks? I also heard that your feet size can change. There’s this little parasite growing inside of you. Absolutely not. I would never.” Maxie shuddered.

Georgie rolled her eyes. “Ignore her,” she told Lulu. “As the daughter of someone who liked the idea of being father much more than the actual practice of it, don’t have a kid just to make Dante happy. Do you really want to get pregnant, and then raise a baby? Because if the answer is no, it’s just no.”

“But if I don’t have a kid, Dante’s definitely going to break up with me—not that he made it like an ultimatum,” Lulu said, “but we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening. I don’t want to lose him.”

Maxie jabbed a finger at her. “Ten years from now when your body is destroyed and your brain is fried from little Dante Junior, you’ll look back at this moment and you’ll wish I smacked you some sense into you. Do you want to have kids, Lu?”

Lulu stared down at her hands, then sighed. “No. I don’t.”

“Then that’s the end of it. There’s nothing wrong with it, by the way. Not everyone should be a parent. I can make you a long list of people who shot out kids that have no business putting their names on a birth certificate. It’s great for people who want it, but you don’t. Let Dante go start the next generation with someone else.”

“What if I regret it one day?” Lulu said. “What if I wake up five years from now, and he’s married to a perfect woman who gave him the kids he wanted, and I’ll wish it was me—”

“What if you wake up one day and regret being a mother? You can always have a kid later, Lu. But if you have one now, man, you don’t ever get to change your mind. Not without people thinking you’re an asshole.” Maxie lifted her brows. “So, which one are you going to be?”

Lucky & Kelsey’s Apartment: Living Room

Lucky dropped his duffel bag next to the sofa, and his keys on the table before making his way over to the kitchen and the coffee pot. He frowned when he realized there was already a full pot ready.

“I figured it would be your first stop when you got in, so I set the timer.”

He turned, saw Kelsey in the open doorway to their bedroom, her dark hair bundled on top of her head. She swore a long-sleeved gray top with a pair of pink cotton pants — clearly she’d only just woken.

“It’s early. You could get some more sleep.”

She smiled faintly, crossed the room to slide her arms around his waist and lean up for a kiss. Almost as if they hadn’t spent a month freezing each other out. He cupped her face in his hands, not letting her pull back. “I missed you,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers. “I wish you could have come.”

“Me, too. But I had to deal with work.” Kelsey pulled back and went to the cabinet for two mugs, and Lucky retrieved her favorite creamer from the fridge. “It’s stupid to ask how the funeral was, I guess.”

“Sad,” Lucky admitted. He slid onto one of the stools. “Dante never really talked about his grandmother. Even after he went back to work, and everything died down about Sonny and Vinnie.”

“I can’t imagine how he feels. Knowing there’s no chance of fixing everything. No reunion.” She wrapped her hands around her prepared coffee. “We could just…pretend the last few weeks didn’t happen. I, um, thought about doing that. Just avoiding the whole thing. Since we put up the tree the other night.” She flicked her eyes towards the corner of the living room, the lights twinkling.

“We could.” Lucky considered his coffee. “Is that what you want to do?”

“What I wanted to do was go to my mother’s in Buffalo while you were in New York.”

Lucky jolted at that, set the mug down, the coffee splashing over the edge to his fingers. “What?”

Kelsey sighed. “But I talked to your mother first, and well, that was a terrible idea. So I’m not going to do that.”

“Why—” He forced out the words. “Why—what did I do? Why do you want to leave me—”

“I don’t. God, Lucky, of course I don’t.” She came around the counter, and he turned, pulling her between his legs. “It’s just—I knew we’d have to talk about why it’s been so awful, and I didn’t want to do that. I still…” She touched his chest, picking at the fabric of his shirt, staring at it. “We didn’t plan this summer. We were going to wait.”

“I know.”

“When it…when it was over,” Kelsey said, biting her lip, flicking her eyes up to his, then quickly looking away, “it was awful. I don’t know how it can hurt so much to lose something that wasn’t even real.”

Lucky stroked her arms. “It was real to us,” he told her softly. “It was real.”

She closed her eyes, nodded. “The thing is — you just…you talked about trying for another baby like it…like it was nothing. Like it was…”

“Replacing what we lost,” Lucky said. She didn’t answer but he saw it in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“I know. I know. I told myself that, but I just—I still want kids. I want a family. With you,” she added. “I just…want to wait. A little longer.”

“Sure. Whatever you need. I just need you. The rest of that can wait.”

She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you. This—” He leaned in, kissed her briefly. “You? It’s all I want.”

Brownstone: Hallway

Lucas stepped into the hallway, pulled the door shut, then twisted the knob to be sure he’d locked it behind him. Before he could head down the stairs, he heard footsteps and a voice. He glanced down from the landing to see his sister leave his mother’s apartment, and head towards the stairs.

“No, that’s a great idea. I’m sure Monica can keep them distracted long enough—yeah, I can ask him but I’m sure—” Carly glanced up, met Lucas’s gaze. “Oh, give me a minute, he’s standing right here.” She pressed the phone against her chest. “Lucas, AJ was wondering if we can stash the presents in your place so we can move them into my living room without waking up the boys.”

“Yeah, sure. Grab the spare key from Mom.”

“You’re the best.” Carly refocused on the call. “Yeah, he’s okay with it. It’ll make it easier. I’ll see you then.” She slid the phone into her purse and climbed the last few steps. “Thanks. I think we could have managed the smaller stuff, but Michael’s bikes would be impossible, I think.”

“AJ’s coming over to help with the presents?” Lucas lifted a brow. “That’s interesting. Don’t you guys usually do separate Christmases?”

“This year, um, we’re experimenting with…combining, I guess.” Carly hesitated. “He’s going to spend the night in one of Mama’s guest rooms and be up here for the morning. Instead of waiting to see him, AJ will get to have him first thing, but this way Michael can still be with Morgan.”

“Well, that’ll be nice.” Lucas smirked. “One big happy family.”

Carly narrowed her eyes, then twisted on her heel, making a beeline towards her apartment door across the hall. “Don’t start.”

“What? Every time I turn around the last few weeks, AJ is hanging around.” Lucas leaned against his door. “Very friendly for a pair of exes.”

“I worked very hard at being able to co-parent with AJ. Very hard,” Carly repeated. “We’ve come a long way, and, you know, we’re putting Michael first.”

“Uh huh. How was the movie the other night? The one with the dancing penguins?”

Carly pursed her lips. “It was fine.”

“And Chinese food last night?”

“Lucas—”

“Kind of feels like you’ve been dating your ex-husband.” He shrugged, turned towards the stairs. “But hey, what do I know, right?”

“It can’t happen.”

Her voice was quiet, different and Lucas turned back to her, to his sister. A few years ago, the word wouldn’t have come easily to his mind. But just like AJ, Lucas and Carly had worked hard to build that relationship, and it mattered to him. She looked small, standing in the doorway, key in hand, and he didn’t like it.

“I’m just teasing, Carly—”

“No, I know, but it can’t—” She bit her lip. “It can’t. Michael’s too important. I’ve messed up his life so many times, and I finally fixed it, you know? He has the life he deserves and I’m fine just the way I am. I always screw it up when I try to reach too high. This is more than I ever thought I’d have.”

Lucas furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

“I have a family. I have Mama, and the boys, and you. And Jason. I have enough. I’m okay, just the way it is. I don’t need more. I don’t…I don’t need it.”

He stepped towards her. “You don’t need it, or you don’t deserve it?”

She looked down, stared hard at the palms of her hand. “I spent a lot of years bringing nothing but pain to people, Lucas. You know that. I hurt you and Mama, and Tony. And Jason. And AJ. Michael. My adoptive mother, Virginia. I did a lot of damage.”

“We forgave you—”

She lifted her eyes, tears shimmering. “Sure. I know. But um, maybe that was because you felt sorry for me. AJ does. I, um, was really messed up a few years ago, and I’m not…I mean, I’m better, but I still have some bad moments, you know? I couldn’t have handled any of that without you. And Mama. But AJ — he was really there at the end of it all, and I just—I have what I have because of what happened to me.”

“You think because you still have panic attacks every once in a while, that’s why I’m nice to you? Why AJ’s coming around so much?”

“No. No. Of course not. But it’s—this is so stupid—” Carly brushed at the tears on her cheeks. “Don’t pay any attention to me, okay? I just get ridiculous around this time of year.”

Lucas considered his next words carefully. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You know that right?”

Carly stared at him, stunned. Shaken. “No. I mean, yes, of course, I know that.”

“The panic room, what Sonny put you through, Ric—that wasn’t the universe punishing you for the affair with my dad and lying about Michael. Or whatever you did to AJ. That wasn’t punishment. That’s not how karma works.”

“I-I know that.” She cleared her throat. “I do. I just—I don’t see the point in pushing my luck that’s all. Not when things are going well.”

“All right.” He’d said what he needed to say, and that would have to be enough. “Don’t forget to grab the spare key for my place. I’m late to meet Felix and some friends for a movie.”

Quartermaine Estate: Front Parlor

Elizabeth stepped back and studied the pile of gifts she’d stashed under the tree with Emily’s help. “We overdid it, didn’t we?”

Emily made a face, folded her arms. “Look, we got like four kids under the age of ten who still believe in Santa—and don’t start with me, Spencer totally believes.”

“I would never argue about that.” Elizabeth shoved up the sleeves of her sweater, then crouched down to readjust a few things. “Maybe I can run out grab another gift or two. I feel like Morgan’s pile isn’t as good as it should be.” She tried to get back them, then sighed and sat back on her heels. “I can’t get up.”

Emily rolled her eyes and reached out to haul Elizabeth to her feet. She stumbled slightly, falling into Emily, whose eyes widened. “Uh, what is that?” Her sister-in-law pressed a hand to Elizabeth’s belly, the curve hidden by the bulk of her sweater. “Elizabeth Imogene. What are you not telling us?”

“Oh, shoot—” Elizabeth bit her lip, but couldn’t hide her smile. “We’re telling everyone tomorrow.” She smoothed her hands around her belly, flattening her sweater so that it was more evident. “Sixteen weeks along.”

“Oh my God!” Emily did a dance in place, then clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is amazing! I had no idea! You and Jason, you little stinkers! You didn’t say a word!”

“No, I wanted to wait until I was out of the first trimester to tell anyone.” Elizabeth made a face. “The miscarriage risk was really high early on because of, well, everything. And Monica knew, so don’t be mad at her.”

“I would never. Of course Mom had to know, right? And that sucks for the risk, but you’re good now, right? I mean, you and Jason wouldn’t have planned this if you weren’t, and I know how insane he takes this kind of thing.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it, considering her next words carefully. “There’s a small blood clot,” she said, and Emily’s smile faded. “There’s no reason to be worried. Monica’s on it, and I’m checking in on Tuesday to deal with it. I literally feel amazing. Better than I did at any point before I was pregnant with Cameron. I promise.”

“Oh. Well, if that’s under control, then—” Emily hesitated. “You did plan this, right? It’s not like Cam?”

“We planned it, yeah.” Looking for something to do with her hands, Elizabeth balled up one of the trash bags she’d used to transport the gifts, plucking at the black plastic with her fingers. “I had my pulmonary test in June, two-year anniversary, and it was perfect. No damage to my heart or lungs. Everything was great. And I was thinking this would be the best time if I wanted to have another baby, you know? My classes would be over before I got into the second trimester, and maybe I could deliver just after graduation, before I start looking for a job—”

“No, other than being pregnant during your last year at grad school, it all sounds great. And clearly, it worked out.” Emily tipped her head. “It did, right? Just the way you wanted?”

“The way I wanted, yeah.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I told you Cameron wants a dog, right? Well, insanely, I suggested to Jason we think about moving even though the next few months are going to be crazy. And he—”

“Didn’t say no and is already working on how to make it happen. My brother has absolutely no interest in saying no to you, so I’m not surprised—” Emily stopped. “Uh, that’s a good thing, Elizabeth. Your husband worships you. We should all be so lucky.”

“You’re married to a literal prince,” Elizabeth reminded Emily with a roll of her eyes. “And he spoils you shamelessly, so I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well, I did deliver the heir to the throne and everything,” Emily said, preening and pretending to buff her nails. “But you know what I mean. Jason loves saying yes to you—”

“Because I almost died a few times,” Elizabeth muttered, sitting on the sofa with a huff. “He said it, you know. I can’t say no to you, even though it is the height of insanity to suggest a dog and a new house when we have a toddler who has special needs and a new baby on the way, plus I’ll be starting a new job — like how much stress do I need to put on Jason?”

Emily sat next to her. “You almost died a lot,” she reminded Elizabeth who just made a face. “So, yeah, okay, Jason still has a little bit of trauma related to that. Just a little. But I honestly think it makes him happy to give you what you want. He knows if he really wants to, he can say no.”

“It’s just…we were doing okay with it all until the clot happened,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve been feeling great. But then Monica gave me the results, and it came back like a wave crashing over me. Everyone keeps telling me not to worry, and I’m telling Jason not to worry, and I’m trying not to, but we’re fighting about the same things. My medication. Monica changed it and I didn’t say anything to Jason. Not because I was keeping it from him, but because we don’t talk about that kind of thing anymore. But since the clot…”

“Back to the old pattern of Jason worrying you’re downplaying the condition, so he won’t worry.” Emily nodded. “It makes sense, Elizabeth, but you guys are in such a different place now—”

“I just…I don’t know. I started to think back, and it was my idea to ask Monica about getting pregnant. My idea to stop using protection. It was my idea,” Elizabeth said, and Emily looked at her. “To put us through this again. Just like it was my idea to go through with it the last time. I’m not saying Jason doesn’t want this baby, and I know how much he loves Cameron. And we talked about having kids before I got pregnant the first time. I know we both wanted it. It’s just…I wonder if maybe when he says he can’t say no to me, he means it.”

“I think you’re obsessing about this so you can focus on that instead of worrying about your health,” Emily said. “If you’re really worried about whether or not Jason was fully on board with having another baby, just ask him.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks. It’s so easy.” She rolled her eyes, got to her feet. “I have to run to Wyndham’s. There’s got to be something else we can get for Morgan, so his pile looks the same as the others.”

“We’ll split the difference, and each pick up something.” Emily followed her to the door. “You’ll talk to Jason, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth muttered. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Emily sang, winding her arm through Elizabeth’s. “Don’t try to fight it.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“Hey.” Carly kissed his cheek as she passed Jason at the door, then made a beeline for Cameron. “Where’s my favorite nephew?”

“Aunt Car!” Cameron abandoned his crayons and executed a running leap into his aunt’s arms. “Hi. Hi. Santa come. Morgan. Mikey. Where?”

“They’re with Uncle AJ because Aunt Car forgot a few things at the office.” Carly squeezed him tight, kissed his cheek, then set him down.

“I draw you picture,” Cameron said, returning to his sketchpad and crayons. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, considered his collection of colors, then plucked one up.

“What brings you by?” Jason asked.

Carly held up a bag, rustled it. “Let’s talk in the kitchen,” she said, and he nodded.

“Cam, we’ll be in the kitchen. Don’t touch anything.”

“Busy, Daddy. I no touch.”

“I wanted to run a gift idea past you. For Cam, from me. And AJ, I guess,” she added, her cheeks flushing. “As soon as you told me your plan for the dog, I had this idea.” She pulled out a photo frame. “And I already talked to AJ — he said he’ll help from his end. This is a digital photo frame. They’ll take photos every day, even if Cameron is over there, and then you can swap it out every week. I thought we could load the first photos in tomorrow when you tell him, so he can sort of take his puppy home. Even though he can’t do it physically yet.” She bit her lip. “Or is it a terrible idea?”

Jason took the frame from Carly. “A digital photo frame,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, AJ gave Monica a digital camera for her birthday, so they already have one at the house. It’ll be faster than developing photos, and the photos rotate. This way, even though the puppy won’t live with Cameron, he’ll be able to sort of see him every day. I know it’ll be hard when you tell him the dog has to live at his grandmother’s house for a while, so I thought—”

“This is a really, really good idea. I, uh, didn’t know you knew about the dog,” Jason said. “Elizabeth doesn’t, does she?”

“Oh, no, no. Monica just asked for AJ’s help looking after it, and I was with him finishing up the last of the Christmas stuff, so it just made sense. But we were sworn to secrecy because I know it’s for Elizabeth, too.” Carly beamed. “I had a good idea, huh? That almost never happens.”

“No, we should mark the day.” Jason put the frame back in the bag, and she whacked him playfully in the shoulder. “Uh, thank you. For telling me to talk to Elizabeth yesterday. You were…right.”

Carly lifted her brows. “I was right and a good idea, all on one day? I should play the lottery.” Her smile faded slightly. “Things are going too good, aren’t they? Something terrible is going to happen.”

Jason opened his mouth, mystified, but Carly sat at the table, the color fading from her face. “It’s all good,” she repeated. “Perfect, you know. My boys are amazing, and they just get even better all the time. Mama is really close to admitting she and Scotty have been dating for three years, so that’s perfect. Lucas and Felix, they’re really happy, you know. And you—you and Elizabeth—Cam is literally a superhero with how far he’s come this year, and now you’re going to have another perfect baby, and a house, and a dog—and it’s just all perfect, and that’s how I know it’s going to fall apart.”

“Okay, I was with you until the end.” Jason pulled out a chair, sat down. “Carly.”

“It was like this before.” Her knuckles were bone white as she gripped her knees. “Before the panic room. Sonny and me. It was perfect. I mean, there were things in the distance—Ric was still out there, but I just—I was so happy. Michael was happy, and Sonny loved me. He trusted me. And you! You and I were so close, I thought, you know? I was the reason you were happy, because you were getting married, and it was all my idea—and everything was great, and then it just stopped. It was over, and it was all terrible. It all went so wrong—”

“Okay, you need to take a breath.” Jason took Carly’s hand, pressed two fingers to her wrist. “Your pulse is racing, and your pupils are dilating. Let me remind you that yes, Courtney was your idea, and it was a bad idea. Remember? I actually wasn’t happy. And that was your fault. Sort of.”

Carly blinked, looked at him. “What?”

“If you’re going to take credit for putting us together, then you also take the blame,” he said, and some color returned to her cheeks. “In fact, you knew it was a mistake, remember? Everything was not perfect back then, Carly. And you were thinking of objecting to the wedding.”

Carly closed her eyes. “Right. Right.” Her free hand came up to her throat. “Okay. You’re right. It wasn’t perfect.”

“Things are good right now,” he told her softly. “For both of us. And it’s because we worked hard to get there. But they’re not perfect. Elizabeth and I had a fight about her medication this morning, so there’s that. And you’re still having panic attacks.”

“I wish they’d stop. I want them to stop. I’m just—I’m afraid,” she confessed in a quiet voice. “Because we did work really hard. I worked so hard to be a good person. A better one. Someone you can rely on, and who can be trusted, and who you don’t run screaming from when you have a problem—” She looked away. “But Lucas was teasing me today, and I just had this thought—before my brain just froze — I had a thought.”

“What was it?” he asked. He pushed over the tissues that had been sitting at the center of the table. Handed one to her.

“Oh, he was just teasing me about AJ. You know, Christmas — this year, we’ve done it together. We didn’t before, but it was different this year. We shopped together, and then he asked to have Michael for this year, and I was really okay with it. Horrified that maybe I was still not giving him enough time, but then he asked to spend the night so Michael could still be with Morgan, and that was really the nicest thing—I don’t deserve that kind of niceness, you know—”

“We’ll agree to disagree about that,” Jason said dryly, and she sighed.

“We went out to the movies with the boys. And he’s been over for dinner. And Lucas — he didn’t mean anything. He just…he said it was kind of like I was dating my ex-husband, and I thought — oh, God — this is so embarrassing,” she muttered.

“Carly.”

“Oh, I wish. That’s what popped in my head when Lucas said it was like we were dating. I thought, oh, I wish.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “That’s how it starts, you know. I decide I want something, and I break apart the world to get it.” She cleared her throat, swiped at her eyes. “So if I don’t want it, I can’t hurt anyone.”

Jason exhaled slowly, sat up. “You didn’t do all your damage by yourself, Carly. Tony had the affair, too. And I agreed to lie.”

“And what did AJ do?” she asked him, miserable. “What did he do deserve the way I treated him, huh? Oh, okay, he pushed me down the stairs—oh, wait, no, he didn’t. I shoved the engagement ring in his face, and he knocked it away—I lost my balance. That’s what happened that day, and my baby died because of me. But I couldn’t blame myself. No, why do that when AJ was right there, already blaming himself—” She shook her head. “Sonny ended up in prison after I was done with him, AJ had to leave town, and you almost married Courtney. And Tony? Good God. I broke him into little pieces, and I couldn’t bring myself to apologize to him for years, and I have the nerve to daydream about dragging AJ back into that—”

She shoved herself to her feet. “No. No. I’m not doing it. I’m fine the way things are.”

“I think,” Jason said, rising. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. All those crimes you keep listing? Are any of them recent? Are you still making the same mistakes—”

“No. No. But that’s because I’m alone. I’m not trying to be happier than I deserve, okay?” She went to the sink, splashed cold water on her face, then took a deep breath before facing him. “I have everything I need. And after Christmas, after Michael’s birthday, I’ll get back to my normal life, and it won’t matter. This will just be a mortifying memory. Okay?”

“Carly.”

She snatched up the digital frame, shoved it in the bag. “I’ll take this home a-and you let me know what time I can take the first photo tomorrow, okay? I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She fled the kitchen, and Jason stared after her, unhappy that he couldn’t fix any of this.

Dante & Cruz’s Apartment: Living Room

It was nearly just before eight that night when Dante finally dropped his mother off at her apartment and headed home. Exhausted from the trip and the turmoil of returning to Bensonhurst, Dante slid his key into the lock, shoved open the door, and was halfway to his room before he realized he wasn’t alone in the apartment.

Lucky and Cruz were lounging on the sofa, each with a beer in hand, with a hockey game on the television.

“That’s such a shitty call,” Cruz complained as Tampa Bay player was sent to the penalty box.

“You’ve lived in New York for four years,” Lucky retorted, with a roll of his eyes. “How can you still root for Tampa Bay?”

“Some things are in the blood.” Cruz glanced over at Dante. “Hey, you’re back. How was the rest of the trip?”

“Since I went back to the hotel after the service and didn’t bother going to the house? Fine.” Dante dropped his duffel and went to get a beer of his own. He wouldn’t mind relaxing with a few beers and some sports with his best friends. Anything to get his mind off what was going on in his life. “You ready for my Rangers to humiliate you?”

Cruz snorted. “Yeah, okay. Dream on. Who’s the defending NHL Champion? Not you.”

“Everyone knows the Oilers are going to kick everyone’s ass this year.” Lucky reached for his cell phone. “We’re going to need pizza. And wings.”

“Toss in some cheese fries,” Dante suggested. Lucky nodded and headed into the kitchen to make the call. When Dante was sure Lucky was out of earshot, he looked at Cruz. “He’s not here avoiding Kelsey again, is he?”

“No. He said they talked. Didn’t get into the details, but it looks like that’s all sorted out. Which is good because I was gonna sic Maxie on him next,” Cruz said.

When Lucky came back, they settled into the game, and Dante found himself enjoying the night more than he’d thought — especially since the Rangers were kicking Tampa’s ass, 3-0 when the food came just before the second intermission.

“Just wait,” Cruz muttered, grabbing a slice from the box resting on top of the stove. “They’ll be back. They’re just settling in.”

Dante snorted. “You wish.” He popped the top from his third beer. “Uh, thanks by the way,” he said almost on a mutter. He looked at Lucky. “I wasn’t expecting anyone, much less both of you. And Lu and Maxie.”

“I’d like to take credit for the idea,” Lucky said, leaning against the fridge with a small plate piled high with wings. “But you know it was Maxie. She thought someone should be there. And she knew Lulu wouldn’t go alone.”

“Still. It, uh, mattered.” Dante cleared his throat. “Ma took it hard, you know. Being back with the family and them not really welcoming her. I think maybe me being there made it harder, so I made myself scarce afterward. I went to some of the old places today before we headed to the airport, but it’s not home anymore. I already knew that, I think, but I guess I had to see it again to be sure.”

He looked at Lucky. “I’m sorry, man, for spacing out the last few weeks. I didn’t want to put you in the middle of things with Lu, so I just…dipped. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I knew what was going on.” Lucky shrugged. He tossed the remains of some of wings to the trash, occupied himself with wiping his fingers with a napkin, his eyes averted. “I was avoiding my own thing. Like I told, Cruz, it’s all good now. Me and Kelse, we’re back on track.”

“Good. Good.”

“Yeah. We just needed to be in our heads for a little, but it’s sorted now.” Lucky looked back at Dante. “But here’s the thing. You and Lu, it’s still out there. Whatever ends up happening, you’re my best friend, and that’s not changing. But she’s my little sister. I just need you to be fair to her.”

“I know. I will be. She deserves it.”

“Game’s back on,” Cruz said, snagging another beer. “Time for my Lightning to come back and rock your world, Falconieri.”

“I bet you fifty my guys finish the shutout,” Dante said, following him back to the living room, his good mood restored. Even knowing he’d have to talk to Lu in a few days and put the period on their relationship, it had been an amazing three years. He never would have made it this far without her. He wouldn’t change it for the world.

But he did end up wishing that he hadn’t made the bet with Cruz because Tampa Bay came back and tied the game within the first six minutes of the third period — and ended up winning.

“Son of a bitch.”

Cruz held out his hands, wiggled with a grin. “Pay up.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

“Oh. I cannot wait for Christmas to be over.” Elizabeth flopped onto the bed, throwing one arm over her eyes. “I never want to move from here.”

Jason dumped the damp towels from Cameron’s nighttime bath into the hamper. “I told you I’d do the bath and the story tonight,” he reminded her.

“No, no. If we’re both home, we both do it. That’s just how it is.” She felt the weight of the mattress dip as he stretched out next to her, both of them laying atop the comforter. “I know where I went wrong. Wyndham’s. Emily and I braved the madness of it because Morgan’s pile was just a little too small. People are insane this time of year. Some lady elbowed Emily because she was reaching for this stupid Darth Vader voice changer, and I thought Em was going to pummel her.”

“Maybe we need to bring back full-time bodyguards,” Jason said, only half-joking. They hadn’t needed that level of security in a few years which was nice, but sometimes he missed the comfort of knowing the most important people in his life were being protected twenty-four seven.

“Don’t joke. Next year, I’m siccing Cody on them.” Elizabeth sat up, wincing and rubbed her shoulder. Without thinking, Jason sat up and began to rub them. “You really spoil me too much,” she grumbled, but rolled her head to the side as he massaged out a knot. “Emily, um, accidentally found out about the baby. The sweater didn’t hide him as much today,” she said, pressing a hand to the bulge beneath her pink cotton sleep shirt.

“I’m surprised we kept it as quiet as long as we did.” He leaned down, brushed his lips against her neck. “But I’m sure she was happy.”

“She was.” Elizabeth twisted, tucking one of her legs beneath his. “Um, I have a question. The other night, when I brought up the dog and moving, and you said you can’t say no to me—”

“You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to find out how I managed both of those,” he interrupted with a smile. But instead of smiling back, her eyes filled with tears and her face crumbled. “Did you change your mind? Because I didn’t do anything yet. Well, except the dog. That’s kind of a done deal, and if you—”

“You did mean it, didn’t you—” She sniffled, yanked a tissue from the box on the night table. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to cry. It just—they’re always right there these days.”

“Hey—” Already exhausted by the fight that morning and the scene with Carly, Jason was ready to promise Elizabeth whatever she wanted if she just stopped crying. “Hey. Whatever it is, I can fix it. Just tell me—”

“I don’t need you to fix it—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “You meant it, you can’t say no to me, can you?”

“Uh—” Bewildered, Jason sat back on his heels, not sure if he should touch her. Would it make it worse? “Is that a bad thing?”

“No. No. God, I’m such a ridiculous sight right now.” She shoved herself off the bed, headed for the bathroom, and Jason decided to remain where he was on the bed, though he slid to the edge and let his legs fall over the side, listening as she washed her face, and took a minute to herself.

Elizabeth returned, closing the door to the master behind her, and leaned against it. “I’m going to ask you a question, okay, and I need to you answer it honestly. I know you don’t lie to me, but sometimes you look for a kind or nice way to tell me things you think I won’t like, and I don’t want you to worry about that. Just answer me, okay?”

“Uh, okay.” Jason scratched the corner of his eye. He’d forgotten how the mood swings of pregnancy, he thought. “What’s the question?”

“Did I push you into having a second child? I mean, this was my idea. We know that. But did you feel like you could say no once I brought it up?”

Jason just stared at her, his mind completely blank. He had no idea where that thought could have come from or what he was supposed to do with that question. “Uh—”

“Because it was just a joke, I thought, when we teased each other about how much you spoil me. But it’s not. Because I made an absolutely ridiculous request to get our toddler a dog when we live in a penthouse, and then told you I wanted to move—you know all the reasons this is a terrible idea, but you’re doing it anyway. Because you feel like you can’t say no to me.”

“Okay. Uh, let’s start with that, okay, because that’s easier to answer,” Jason decided, and she sighed, looked down at her toes, curling into the carpet. “If I want to say no to you, I absolutely would. And could. But if you want something, and I can get it for you, I’ll do that. These are not the same things. And you didn’t ask about a dog out of nowhere. Cameron asked for one. And we both know we have an equal problem spoiling him. We need to work on that,” he admitted, “but it’s hard because well…he’s Cameron. But he asked for a dog, and we don’t want to say no. So you did what I do — you found a way to make it viable. A dog needs a backyard. So why not move. It’s logical, Elizabeth. And, let’s face it, we don’t have to make moving stressful. I can pay people to pack this place up and unpack it somewhere else, and you never have to lift a finger. So it’s not nearly as ridiculous as you think it is.”

“Okay. Okay, maybe, but—”

“But if you’re asking me if I ever would have asked you to have another child — for you to get pregnant and put yourself through it, no. I wouldn’t have.”

She picked at her nails, didn’t look up at him. Jason crossed to stand in front of her, reaching for the hand she was abusing. “Can you look at me?”

Elizabeth did, raising her chin. Her eyes were still swimming with tears. “So I did push you into this.”

“No. That’s different. If I didn’t want more kids, I’d tell you. I would,” he promised. He pressed the hand he held against his heart. “I love Cameron. I love being his father. And I love watching you be his mother. The two of you, what we have together, it’s more than I ever thought it would be. But I never would have asked you to go through this again. You nearly killed yourself to bring Cameron into this world. And you fought hard to get healthy again. I don’t feel like I could ever ask you to risk any of this again because I want more kids.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, tipped her head to the side. “But you do want more?”

“Sure. I think we’re good at this. But it’s your body, Elizabeth, and you get to decide when and if you want to carry more babies.” He rested his hand over the curve of their child, knowing that they were still weeks away from feeling the baby kick. “Maybe if we do this again, you might want a surrogate. Or adoption. There’s other options out there if you want more kids after this one, and you don’t want to worry about the risk.”

“I didn’t really think—” She sighed, leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. His arms encircled her. “I didn’t think about that part of it. I should have. Of course you wouldn’t bring it up first.”

“I love you. There’s nothing that makes me happier than coming home to you, and to Cameron, and in a few months, we’ll have this baby, too.”

“I just sometimes wish I felt like it wasn’t always so…” Elizabeth leaned back slightly, wrinkling her nose. “One-sided. You know, everyone always talks about how you spoil me, but they should be able to say that about me, right? They don’t. I should be giving to you, too.”

“Are you kidding—”

“And don’t talk about giving you Cameron and the baby. That’s—you did that, too, you know. I wasn’t alone over there—” She tipped her head to the bed behind her, and he grinned, thinking of it. Her cheeks flushed. “But that’s something we give to each other. I just…I want you to feel as loved and special as I do, you know? But all I do is drive you crazy—”

“You give me dreams,” Jason interrupted softly, and she blinked, looked at him with bewilderment. “I don’t have them, remember? But you give them to me, and I make them real. I can’t do that without you. I can’t do any of it without you.”

“I’m sorry I’m so insane.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he held her close, rocking her a bit.

“It’s never boring,” he admitted, and he felt her chuckle more than he heard it. “Actually, if we’re talking about something I need right now, I have a problem I don’t know how to fix. Maybe you have an idea.”

“Well, I can’t get any more pregnant,” she said, and he rolled his eyes, taking her by the hand to lead her over to the bed.

“No, not that,” he said, “but hold on that one, okay? It’s Carly. I want to help her, but I don’t know what to do.”


Special thanks to Steve Holley on Twitter who helped me out with the hockey game Dante, Lucky, and Cruz were watching. He tracked down the time for me so I could accurately place it on the right time. That was a real game that aired on December 23, 2006 with Tampa coming back from a 3-0 deficit, lol. 

December 31, 2023

This entry is part 4 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

Santa, can you hear me?
I have been so good this year
And all I want is one thing
Tell me my true love is near
He’s all I want, just for me
Underneath my Christmas tree
I’ll be waiting here
Santa, that’s my only wish this year

My Only Wish (This Year), Britney Spears


Friday, December 22, 2006

The Cellar: Office

Carly smiled and rose from her desk at the sight of Jason at her office door. “Hey, you. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” She came around the desk as Jason closed the door. “What brings you by?”

“I, uh, had a question for you.” Jason scratched the edge of his brow. “You talked to Elizabeth yesterday. About Sonny.”

Carly hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I did. And I was right to. I had a feeling you didn’t tell her about the message we got from the prison the other day.” She folded her arms. “And let me guess, you’re not thrilled that I did.”

Jason glanced at the ceiling, muttered something under his breath. “No. But I can’t be annoyed at you because you don’t know what’s going on.”

She bristled. “I think I know you pretty well—”

“We weren’t telling anyone until Sunday,” Jason cut in, and Carly closed her mouth, perplexed. “But those tests results I missed—”

Carly jolted, her eyes widening. “Oh, I didn’t even think—oh, God, they came back bad, didn’t they—”

“It’s not CTEPH,” Jason said, once again cutting her off. “But we were waiting until Christmas Eve to tell everyone she was pregnant. Then Monica found a clot the other day. A small one in her lungs.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “She’s checking in the day after Christmas to have a procedure. We don’t think it’s serious, but I just—” He broke off, looked away.

“I’m not exactly sure where to start with that,” Carly said. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Um, congratulations and I’m sorry? Does that cover it?”

“Basically,” Jason muttered. Restless, he paced the length of the room. “I just don’t see the point in dragging all of this out. Sonny doesn’t want to see us. Fine.”

“Jason, the only reason they called me is they thought I requested another visit. Which I didn’t. You did. You were planning to go up there after New Year’s. Which prompted Sonny to remove us both from the list.” Carly tipped her head. “So yeah, I talked to Elizabeth. She didn’t know any of this. And don’t think you’re going to distract me with news about her health. Three years ago, that wouldn’t have stopped you from being honest with her. You just didn’t want to tell her about any of this.”

“Because—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she finished, and he scowled at her. “What, you don’t think I can finish your sentences after all these years? Jason, if it didn’t matter, then why didn’t you just tell her?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. All I came to do was tell you what’s happening so you know to leave Elizabeth out of it—”

“It wasn’t so long ago that I’d have been happy leaving Elizabeth out of everything,” Carly said. She sat back at her desk, leaned back to consider Jason. “There was a time when I resented her for her relationship with you. Because you and I had to work at being friends. And sometimes, you still don’t really see me that way—”

“Carly—”

“Our past always hung between us, especially after what I did to you with Michael,” she said softly, and he sighed, but he didn’t deny it. “Then what happened with Sonny. When I think back, Jason, I was always the one talking, and you were always listening. And that’s still true. But that’s not the dynamic you and Elizabeth have. You talk to her.” She tipped her head. “Am I wrong?”

Jason was quiet for a long moment, didn’t meet her eyes. “No.”

“I could sense it all the way back then, Jason. And it’s why I hated her for so long. And it’s why she and I will never be close,” Carly continued. “We respect each other. We even like each other now, I think. And she’s part of my family. But I still resent her for being the friend to you I couldn’t be.”

Jason reached for the chair by the desk, sat down. “Carly—” Then he fell silent, unsure what to say next.

“You don’t tell me things because it’s your nature to hold things close. But when you don’t tell Elizabeth? It’s because you don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to acknowledge it. So, I took a wild guess yesterday, and I called her. And you’re pissed at me because now you can’t keep ignoring it.” She lifted her brows. “And I’m not sorry I did it. I’d do it again, too, and if Elizabeth knew you were in here, using her health as an excuse to keep her in the dark? She’d kick your ass. And I’d help her do it.”

Jason dragged his hands down his face, took a deep breath. “When I got the message that we couldn’t go back, that Sonny was blocking us from visiting at all, I was…” He trailed off, stared at his hands.

“Relieved,” she said softly.

“Yeah.”

“Me, too. After I was done with the panic attack,” Carly added with a wrinkle of her nose. “They told me I couldn’t see him, and there was a wave of relief that washed over me—and I immediately started to lose it. Because what kind of person does that make me? I’m terrible. I took vows to love him, Jason. To honor him. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. And I broke them.”

“Carly, hey—”

“I know he broke them, too, okay? I know it.” Carly brushed away a tear, her voice breaking. “But I know if we’d been more open when he came home from Ferncliffe, if maybe I hadn’t pushed him with divorce and rescinding the adoption, and if you’d given him something in the business, he wouldn’t have felt so damn alone. He wouldn’t have gone to the PCPD without a lawyer. He wouldn’t have confessed.”

Jason didn’t say anything, just kept staring at his hands. Carly continued, “Sonny was my husband, and I loved him. And now, I’m relieved that I don’t have to see him again. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to accept that it’s not my fault where he ended up. He was keeping it together until that night in December. If I had stayed—”

“I never would have let you stay after what he did,” Jason broke in roughly, jerking his head up. “It was the breaking point, but I didn’t know it. I couldn’t see it. Everyone wanted me to do something, and I didn’t. I couldn’t. I kept pushing it away, thinking he’d snap out of it. He always snapped out of it.”

“I know.” Carly smiled through her tears. “I know it. But Jason, he did snap out of it. He woke up the next morning, and he was lucid. And what he’d done? It didn’t horrify him. He was lucid when he demanded you apologize for choking him. Do you remember that? He expected you to beg forgiveness for doing that to him because we didn’t know he was sick. And how furious he was when you refused. Do you regret that now?”

“No. No, I don’t.” Jason exhaled slowly. “After that day, I did what was right. That’s what makes it so hard to go see him. But why I do it. I could have stopped it earlier.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll never know for sure. But what I do know is that we have to forgive ourselves. You know? We have to.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he said. He met her eyes. “Can you?”

“I’m working on it.”

Brooklyn, New York: Bensonhurst

“Isn’t strange how a place can change so much when you’re gone for a few years?” Olivia murmured as Dante eased the car to a stop at a traffic light on 18th Avenue and Bay Ridge Parkway. “There are more Chinese restaurants than I remember.”

“Last time I talked to Nunzio Abatangelo,” Dante said, “he said the same thing.”

“Probably with more profanity,” Olivia said, almost absently. “He never did like anyone who wasn’t Sicilian. You know, I thought I’d miss the old neighborhood more, but I really don’t.” She glanced over at him. “What about you?”

“I always thought I’d end up back here. I only went upstate to make detective faster.” Dante tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I figured I’d get the years, take the exam, then come home. Marry a nice girl. Grandma was always picking them out for me. Have a lot of kids. Grow old on the street where I grew up.” He exhaled slowly. “Then Vinnie happened. And I couldn’t think of home without thinking of him.”

“It’s easier in Port Charles to move on from it. I don’t know if I could if Frankie or Frannie were always in my face.” Olivia smiled faintly. “Promise me you won’t name your kids Francis and Francesca.”

“If I have them.” The light turned green, and Dante continued heading south. He could feel his mother’s eyes on him. “It’s…Lu doesn’t want kids. At least she doesn’t think so.”

“Is that why you broke up?”

“We’re…we didn’t. All the way yet. We’re just taking a break. And yeah, because I wanted to move in together, and she thought maybe I was thinking about buying her a ring. I was,” Dante admitted. “Three years, Ma. It should be enough time, you know?”

“More than enough, if you ask me, but what do I know? I got knocked up at fifteen.” Olivia exhaled slowly. “You changing your mind? So you can make things work?”

“Just…tossing the idea around in my head.” He turned on 21st Avenue. “Thinking maybe I don’t need to have it all. I could be an uncle. Or maybe I could do that Big Brother thing—”

“Dante.”

“I know. I know. It’s not going to work. Just saying it out loud feels stupid,” he admitted. He pulled the car to a stop outside the Falconieri house. “It’s just…when all this went down with Grandma. With Vinnie, and then the papers finding out about Sonny—Lu was the one who got me through it.”

“I know she was, honey.”

“She was the only good thing in my life for months. I don’t get how two people can love each other the way we do and not want the same things.” Dante grimaced. “But you know, I’m twenty-five. Maybe that feels young to some people, but I don’t wanna wait ten more years to have a family. I wanna do it when I’m young.”

“Well, you know, I’m not in any hurry to be a grandmother—” Olivia smiled when he just looked at her. “That’s a lie. I’d love it, I would. It’s hard, honey, and I’m sorry. Maybe Lu will want kids in ten years. Five years. But you don’t gotta wait around to find out, you know? There’s someone out there who wants to have a family sooner. And Lu’s not wrong. Maybe she won’t ever want kids. Do you wanna be forty finding out that? Or worse, maybe she has a kid to make you happy. And hates the hell out of it.”

“I’d hate that.” Dante sighed. “Yeah, I know, Ma. I just…I gotta tell her it’s over. I figure she already knows it. We both do. But we gotta say it.”

She squeezed his arm. “But not today. Let’s go inside. Get this over with.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Bobbie beamed as she took Cameron from Elizabeth’s arms, hugged him tight, then set him into his booster seat. “There’s my baby.”

“Mommy say I big boy.” Cameron smiled sweetly at Bobbie, his honorary grandmother. “Gammy hi.”

“You’ll always be my baby, but yes, you’re growing up.” Bobbie turned to Elizabeth who had settled into her own seat. “And I love having both my favorite Morgans treating me to lunch. What’s the occasion?”

“Can’t I want lunch with my favorite Spencer?” Elizabeth asked, plucking a sippy cup from the tote bag she carried for Cameron, along with a coloring book and a small container of crayons.

“You can, of course. You know that.” Bobbie squeezed her hand. “But I recognized the tone of your voice on the phone.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, picked up a straw and played with the end of the wrapper. “You know me too well. I don’t know if Jason’s telling Carly ahead of Sunday, when we tell everyone, but Monica knows—”

“You’re pregnant,” Bobbie guessed, and Elizabeth broke off, surprised. “I thought you had that look. That’s wonderful! How far along?”

“Um, sixteen weeks. I waited through the first trimester to be sure. I knew everyone would have a lot of questions, and they’d ask about my health, and I just…” Elizabeth sighed. “I just didn’t want it. Monica knew because she’s my doctor, but—”

“No, I understand completely, honey. And of course, I do have a thousand questions, but I won’t ask a single one—” Bobbie held up her hands. “Scout’s Honor. I’m sorry I guessed it before you could tell me—”

“Oh, oh, well, that’s fine. It’s awkward saying it out loud, which is weird, I guess. It shouldn’t be. I think because I never really got to do it the first time.” Elizabeth looked at her son, carefully using his blue crayon. He was good at staying in the lines — one of the few ways he was outpacing other kids his age. “But we planned it this time. Well, I did,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “It was my idea. And Jason never said no.”

“Does he ever?” Bobbie asked dryly, and Elizabeth smiled faintly. “Well, that means you were hoping for a positive test. So, I’m glad it was a happy moment.”

“It was. And it is. It is,” Elizabeth repeated. “Everything has been great. I feel great, you know. A little tired, but nothing like before. It’s just, um, there’s this one thing. Monica found a small clot in my lungs a few days ago.”

Bobbie stilled, the smile fading from her lips. “What?”

“I, um, have to check in after Christmas for a procedure to take care of it. That’s why I wanted to tell you ahead of time. I was hoping you and Monica might tell anyone else who needs to know about the medical part. I just…on Christmas, I just want to tell people about the baby and have them be happy for us. I don’t want anyone to worry, you know? Because I’m not worried. And neither is Monica,” Elizabeth explained in a rush. “So don’t…worry, that is.”

“If Monica isn’t worried,” Bobbie said slowly, “then I suppose I won’t be either. She guided you through the last time, and you were the first case of CTEPH in the country to survive a diagnosis and have a child survive past a week. You’re a miracle, and so is Cameron. So, if you’re telling me not to worry, I’ll believe you.”

“A miracle,” Elizabeth murmured, looking at her son. Cameron looked up, grinned at her, his blue eyes visible behind his glasses. Jason’s eyes. Lila’s eyes. Her perfect child who had survived against all the odds. She took a deep breath, and Bobbie reached for her hand.

“Honey?”

“Sorry. Sorry. Sometimes I forget, you know? You have to forget or women would never go through pregnancy more than once,” Elizabeth said. “And, oh, God, I’m sorry, Bobbie—”

“It’s all right, sweetheart.” Bobbie smiled at her. “You don’t have to worry for my sake. I wanted more babies. To make up for the one I’d given away. But being pregnant, giving birth—that’s not what makes you a mother. I had my BJ, and I have Lucas. Carly came back to me. And, now of course, I have you.” She used her thumb to brush away a tear that slid down Elizabeth’s cheek. “It was a miracle. You and Cameron. I won’t ever forget that.”

“I don’t want a miracle this time,” Elizabeth said. “I know that sounds insane, but I don’t want it. I just want a normal pregnancy. With cravings and leg cramps, and going into labor, and holding my baby a few minutes after delivery…and I don’t want to go anywhere near the NICU. I don’t want a miracle.”

“Of course not. We can be grateful to everyone who made Cameron possible, but that doesn’t mean I ever want to go near that part of the hospital again. I don’t want any of my family to do that. You said Monica’s not worried? And Jason’s not hovering, trying to take your vitals every five seconds, so he’s not either.”

“I had a panic attack the other night. At the department store. I lost my breath for a minute.” Elizabeth sighed. “But other than that, I don’t even feel a difference. So, yeah. I’m not worried. I’m trying not to be. And I know Jason’s trying not to, either. It’s hard.”

“I know. But you’ll get this cleared up, and we’ll put it behind us and enjoy what’s to come. Sixteen weeks, huh? So you must know what you’re having. Are we decorating in pinks or blues?”

“We found out last month.” And now Elizabeth’s smile bloomed. “We’re having another little boy. Cam’s getting a little brother.”

“Oh! Oh! You’re going to be outnumbered! I love this.” Bobbie clapped her hands together. “Cameron’s going to be the best big brother. Are you excited, Cam?”

Cam looked up at the sound of his name and realized he was being addressed. “I bestest,” he said with a nod. He pressed a hand to his chest. “Big brother.”

“That’s right,” Elizabeth murmured, ruffling his dark blond hair. “The best big brother of all the brothers.”

Spencer House: Living Room

“Kelsey!” Laura Spencer drew her daughter-in-law into a warm hug, then stepped back. “Come in, come in. It’s such a surprise to see you here in the middle of the day!”

“Sorry to just show up without warning like this.” Kelsey forced a smile, keeping her hands in the pockets of her coat. “Lucky said you were working from home today, so I took a chance.”

“Of course. Come into the kitchen, I’ll put on some coffee—”

“Oh, I’m not—I can’t stay. Today’s the last day before the holidays, and I have a few things I have to do.” She fisted her hands inside the pockets. “Um, so you know Lucky went down to New York, right? For the funeral. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yes. Lucky said a few of them were able to get away. It’s such a shame Dante was never able to find peace with his grandmother.” Laura shook her head. “I’ll never understand how she was able to live with herself, knowing she chose that monster over such a wonderful boy.”

“Yeah, it’s…it’s really terrible.” Kelsey bit her lip. “I’m, um, going to my mother’s this year. To Buffalo. So I won’t be here on Christmas Eve.”

Laura looked at her so long that Kelsey dropped her eyes. “What does that have to do with Lucky going to New York? Was that a deal you made? He went to the city, so…” Her mother-in-law squinted. “So you’re going to your mother’s? Or was it a fight? I don’t understand.”

“No. No. I’m leaving tonight,” Kelsey said. “To go to Buffalo. I was going to leave him a note—but that didn’t seem right, so I thought, well you could give him the message—”

“Or you could,” Laura said gently. She took Kelsey by the arm. “Come in. Let’s talk.”

“I can’t stay—”

“If you want me to tell my son his wife is leaving him, then you’ll stay,” Laura said, her tone firm but kind. “It’s not the kind of thing I’ll agree to do standing by my front door. Take off your coat and let’s talk.”

With a heavy sigh, Kelsey let Laura take her coat and followed her to sit on the sofa by the fireplace. “I’m not leaving him. I’m just—you know, even though they solved my dad’s case, Mom still doesn’t like coming to Port Charles, so—”

“I understand, and I’m sorry for her, I am. You and Lucky resolved that by alternating holidays. This is our turn, isn’t it?” Laura tipped her head. “And you usually don’t go until Christmas Eve, not a few days earl, so I really don’t think this is just about visiting your mother.”

Kelsey stared at her hands. “You know what happened this summer.”

“I do. And I know the due date is coming up. It must be a hard time for you both. Luke said Lucky’s been pulling a lot of shifts lately. And here you are, planning your escape. Kelsey—”

“We weren’t planning kids yet. Um, it was an accident, I guess. We said we wanted them,” Kelsey said, her words halting. “But it was always…some day in the future. When I was more settled at work, when he’d taken the detective’s exam and had a better schedule. But then I was pregnant, and we were excited. And then we weren’t.” She glanced at her mother-in-law, then back at her hands. “I can’t go through that again. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“No, I don’t. I’m so sorry, honey.” Laura reached for one of her hands, pulled it into her lap, forcing Kelsey to look at her. “Have you spoken to Lucky?”

“N-no. I don’t know how to say it to him. He wants kids. A-and when it happened, we were both upset. But a few months ago, he started talking about trying again, and then we found this ornament, and I wanted to throw it away, but he wanted to keep it, and we just had a terrible argument—” Her breathing came fast, and Kelsey squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t go through it again. I don’t want to go through it again.”

“Ever?” Laura asked delicately, and Kelsey looked at her. “Is that what you’re afraid to tell Lucky? That you don’t want kids at all now?”

“No. No. That’s not—” Kelsey bit her lips. “No,” she repeated, quietly. “Not never. Just…not now. And maybe for a little while. A year or two. Or something. It’s just…it’s too soon. And I don’t want to disappoint him. He was so happy, Laura. You know? And I love him so much, and I don’t want to make him sad or wait for something he wants—”

“Isn’t life strange?” Laura said, with a smile, and Kelsey broke off, bewildered. “Lulu was just here the other day, and we were having a similar conversation. She and Dante are sort of at the same place you and Lucky are. Except Lu doesn’t ever want kids. And Dante does.”

“I know. Lucky said something about them fighting. Maybe it’s why he brought it up with me. Babies on the mind, I guess.” Kelsey swiped at her eyes. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her that loving someone means wanting the best for them. Wanting them to be happy, even if it means not being with them. Dante and Lulu are worlds apart on this, and I don’t see how you can meet in the middle on something like this. I really don’t. Which is what I told her. But she went to New York all the same because she loves him.” Laura patted Kelsey’s hand. “You’re scared right now, and you don’t want to go through any of it again. I want you to think about my son. Think about why you love him. And ask yourself, do you really think he’ll be disappointed or angry if you want to wait a little longer to have the kids you both say you want?”

Kelsey huffed. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” she muttered.

“It does,” Laura agreed with a wide smile. “But it’s all right, honey. You couldn’t say it out loud before, and you came to me because I think you knew I’d never agree to tell Lucky you were going to Buffalo.”

“Yeah, I guess that was a terrible idea.” Kelsey sighed. “Thank you.”

“Promise me, you’ll talk to Lucky when he gets home tomorrow,” Laura said. “You’ll feel so much better.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Kelsey nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

Bensonhurst: St. Mary Mother of Jesus Roman Catholic Church

He didn’t sit with his mother or the rest of the Falconieri family. His mother had argued with him, but one look from Uncle Frankie at the house, Dante knew there’d be nothing but misery if he forced himself into the front pew.

He sat a few rows behind them, watching his mother sit isolated at the end, sick to his stomach as his Aunt Frannie, who regularly visited Vinnie in prison and was still petitioning for his release the last he heard, was sobbing loudly, clutching at his uncle. Frannie, who had never believed for a minute what her son had done, was in the inner circle while his mother was treated like garbage.

Maybe he’d wondered a little if the angry emotions had faded in the years since Vinnie had landed in a state prison — if maybe there was a chance Dante could come home one day and have the future he’d wanted.

But today proved that wasn’t possible. Home wasn’t Bensonhurst anymore, and it never would be again.

At the end of the service, as the family filed out, Dante stood and joined his mother, taking her hand as she lagged behind. She smiled at him, wound her arm through his. “It’s okay, baby.”

Dante opened his mouth to respond, but then his eye caught a familiar face. More than one. Lucky was in the last row of the church, and by his side were Maxie, Lulu, and Cruz. Dante swallowed hard. They’d come all this way for him. Even Lu.

“Yeah, I know, Ma. We’re gonna be all right.” He squeezed his mother’s hand, then looked back at his friends, hoping the gratitude showed in his eyes. Why would he ever want to come back here when the best people he knew were in Port Charles?

Brownstone: Carly’s Apartment

“I can’t think of anything we missed,” Carly said, scanning the list in her hand. “What about you?”

AJ scratched off the item they’d just wrapped — a set of Legos for Morgan — then shook his head. “No, I think we’re good. Which is a relief because I don’t want to go anywhere near the stores again. Or the mall.”

“I don’t really mind,” Carly admitted, picking up a small stack of gifts from the dining table. “Come on, we can hide the last of these in my room. Lucas isn’t sending the boys back over for another half hour.”

“I’ll get the big ones.”

They hid the stack of gifts in Carly’s closet and under her bed — and it was a good thing they were done, she thought. They’d run out of every available space. Kneeling next to her bed, she sat back on her heels. “I definitely need to move somewhere bigger. Or I need to stop buying so much.”

“Bigger place is probably the answer,” AJ said, holding out a hand. “Because if you don’t go overboard, how do I justify doing it?” He tugged Carly to her feet, and she stumbled into him. He set his hands at her hips to steady her. Startled, her eyes flew to his and they both jerked away. “Sorry. Uh, we better clean up the wrapping paper.”

“Right. Right.” Her mother’s voice was in her ear, Carly thought with irritation. And that stupid conversation from the other day when she’d wondered what life would have been like if she’d given her marriage a real chance all those years ago.

Once the holidays and Michael’s birthday were over, they could go back to not seeing each other that much, she thought. Michael’s overnight visits, and the occasional daylight hand off. That’s all they really needed. She needed a break from all this holiday stuff, where it was too easy to pretend they were a family.

“That can all go in the hall closet,” Carly said when they went back to the front of the apartment. “The wrapping paper, I mean. I’ll take the tape and scissors.”

“Yeah. Sure.” AJ picked up one of the half-used tubes, then paused. “I was thinking about Christmas. About having Michael.”

“I mentioned it to him,” Carly said almost absently. “He was excited to see you in the morning. So I’m glad you asked—”

“I was going to ask if maybe I could stay at Bobbie’s and we could do Christmas here.”

Carly dropped the tape in the junk drawer in the kitchen, then looked up at him. “What?”

“I don’t care where I see Michael,” AJ said. “And I don’t want him to miss Morgan. So maybe I could take the guest room. I’d suggest the sofa here, but that would, uh, interfere with Santa, you know?”

“That’s…You don’t have to do that. You should have him on Christmas like you wanted. Morgan—he’ll be fine. We’ll have Lucas and Felix, and Mama here. Plus, Lucas’s friends will be in and out all day. Morgan will have a lot of people around.”

“But not like having his brother. We don’t know how long Michael will believe in Santa. I don’t want him to miss out being with Morgan while he still does.”

She bit her lip, nodded. “Okay. Yeah, um, I know Mama won’t mind. She’ll be happy to let you grab a room.” She met his eyes. “Thank you. I really—I want Michael and Morgan to have each other. To be close. The way I never was with anyone.”

“You have Lucas now,” AJ pointed out, and Carly smiled thinly, digging into the drawer for her takeout menus.

“Someone else who just felt sorry for me and the kids, sure. I’m ordering some Chinese food for dinner if you’re interested, or if not, that’s okay.”

“Carly—” AJ looked like he was going to say something else, but when she looked at him, he just shook his head. “Never mind. Chinese food sounds great. Thanks.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Christmas music was playing when Jason opened the door that evening—just like almost every night for the last two months. He would be almost relieved after the holiday were over, he thought, dropping his keys on the desk, then hanging up his jacket — along with the ones Elizabeth had left on the desk chair—some things would never change.

“We’re in here!” Elizabeth’s voice rose over the music, and he followed it towards the kitchen where she stood in a rare position — in front of the stove.

Cameron sat at the table, coloring. A blue crayon was clutched in his hand and he was crouched over one of his mother’s sketchpads.

“Hey.” Jason slid his arm around Elizabeth’s waist, kissed her temple. “Isn’t Friday usually Thai food?”

“Usually, but I walked past Mama Mangione’s after I finished lunch, and I had a craving for pasta in red sauce.” She brought a spoon up. “Taste this.”

“It’s—good,” Jason admitted.

“I should be insulted by the surprise in your voice,” Elizabeth muttered. “But I still remember how my first attempt at tomato sauce tasted. I still don’t know how all that salt got in there.”

Jason kissed her temple again, then sat at the table. “Hey, Cam.”

“Hi Daddy. I busy. Talk later.” The toddler didn’t even bother to look up, which made Jason frown. It wasn’t like Cameron to get so absorbed in something — though he’d been doing it more lately, he thought. The Christmas movies, for one thing. Maybe that was a good thing. His attention span was expanding.

“He’s been like that since we got home.” Elizabeth turned the sauce down to simmer and took a seat at the table. “Are you done, um, work for the holidays yet or—”

“Most of the warehouse is shut down after today, but I have one shipment to deal with tomorrow. I’ll be home for dinner,” he promised. He hesitated. “I, uh, told Carly today. About the baby. It came up,” he said, looking away at the last minute.

“Oh, well, I talked to Bobbie, so I guess we both had the same idea.” She frowned. “You okay? You seem a little distracted.”

“I’m—” He sat back, watched Cameron for another long moment. “Sorry. About last night.” He met her eyes, then looked away again. “What I said about writing people off easily. I know you don’t do that.”

“You didn’t mean it. It’s fine—”

“It’s—” Jason leaned forward, folded his arms on the table. “I was irritated with Carly today. Because she told you. That’s why I told her about the baby. I thought she’d leave it alone if she knew…”

“If she knew I was pregnant and had a blood clot?” Elizabeth raised her brows. “I’m sure she loved that.”

“She knew I was just trying to distract her. Guilt her into keeping you out of it. Which only pissed her off, so—” Jason sighed, finally looking up again. “You were right. I was relieved and felt guilty about it. And I know there’s no reason to be guilty, but—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to stop. Sonny was like a brother to me. And I know it’s not that simple. I know I didn’t just abandon him overnight, but sometimes it feels like I did.”

“You were the last one off the ship, Jason, and if it hadn’t been for me and Cameron and the situation we were in? You’d have gone down with it.” She reached across the table, squeezed his hand. “Loyalty. That’s your best trait. And your fatal flaw. When Sonny confessed, you hired him a lawyer. And we went to his sentencing. You visited him in prison every few months for three years. The only reason you didn’t see him a few days ago is because he cut you out. What part of that is abandoning him?”

The corner of his mouth curved up, and he took her hand in his, his fingertips tracing her palm. “None of it, I guess. But I’ll always wonder if I could have done more.”

“We never did get that trial,” Elizabeth murmured. “Sometimes I wonder if I’d never talked about wanting Ric to rot in prison, if I’d never told you I thought it would help me to get past it all — would Carly have asked? Where would we be if I hadn’t said it? If you hadn’t promised it.”

“It doesn’t matter. You and Carly being okay — that was all I wanted,” Jason told her. “Once you told me it would help, and Carly agreed, I was going to make it happen. Sonny had a choice, Elizabeth. And he chose to let that be the first domino. But it’s not why the rest of it happened.”

“The first domino to fall is always the important one. I mostly let the guilt go, you know. I couldn’t have known where it would end up. But it’s a question I ask myself sometimes. It’s okay to feel relieved you don’t have to put yourself through it.” She rose, dropped a kiss on top of his head, and went back to the stove to start the pasta.

“Daddy, daddy—” Cameron slid the paper he’d been working on across the table, then slid off the chair to run over to him. Jason lifted his son into his lap. “I drawed you a picture.”

“Yeah?” Jason picked up the paper, saw the neatly colored collection of circles and the blue shade filling in a lot of the white space at the top.

“Yeah. I tell you. Like Mommy. I tell you.” He pointed at the first circle. “You. Then me. Mommy. Then new baby. And Teddy, the doggy Santa bring. Gammy Bobbie. Gammy Monca and Grampy Awan. Aunt Car and Uncle AJ and Mikey and Morgan. Family.” Cameron smiled brightly at him. “I tell you. You like my picture?”

“I love the picture. You did such a great job telling me all about it.” Jason set him on the floor. “Why don’t you go put it on the fridge?”

“Okay.”

When Cameron had dashed across the kitchen to pick out a magnet, Jason went to Elizabeth, brushed her hair off her shoulder. “I have an idea about the dog,” he murmured, and she looked at him. “Just let me handle everything.”

December 28, 2023

This entry is part 3 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

Where are you Christmas
Why can’t I find you
Why have you gone away
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me
Why can’t I hear music play

Where Are You Christmas?, Faith Hill


Thursday, December 21, 2006

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bathroom

“I did it.”

Jason paused, the toothbrush still in his mouth, catching the reflection of Elizabeth in the mirror, standing in the doorway of the bathroom stifling a yawn. She’d stolen one of his blue t-shirts to use as pajamas, even though the collar always slid down one shoulder. Her hair was still tangled from sleep and her eyes were barely open.

But she was awake at just past five-thirty in the morning. And she was grinning blearily, even as she swayed slightly from fatigue.

“I don’t know why you’re so proud of yourself,” Jason said, after rinsing the toothpaste from his mouth, switching off the faucet. He set his hands on her hips and lifted her onto the counter. “There’s literally no reason to be up this early.”

“Don’t take away my triumph—” Elizabeth wagged her finger in his face. He caught it in his hand and grinned. “It took years of preparation—”

“Is that what we’re calling the last two years of broken alarm clocks?” He grinned, then lifted her into his arms to carry her back into the bedroom, depositing her back in the bed. “Go back to sleep.”

Elizabeth sat up, grumbling. “I think you just like having an hour to yourself before I wake up and start nagging you—”

“You have never, not once in your life, nagged me,” Jason told her, sitting down. “But you’re sleeping for two now. And Cam won’t be up for a while. Enjoy your sleep while you can.”

“No, I’m awake now. Maybe later, though, if you’re free, we could take a nap when Cameron does.” Elizabeth wiggled her eyebrows, and he grinned. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one who walks around here without a shirt on. What do you expect a girl to think about?”

“I’m not going to argue with that,” Jason said with a shake of his head, leaning in to kiss her. “But you’re always stealing my shirts to sleep in, so it’s your fault.”

“You’ve caught on to my diabolical plan.” Elizabeth’s fingers slid through his hair, then rested at his collarbone. “Do you ever think about how lucky we are?”

Jason’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You just hear about how some people get married and they lose interest. It starts to fade. Especially once they have kids. But I’ve never felt like that. Have you?”

A bit thrown by the topic, Jason leaned across her, planting one hand on the mattress by her hips, her knees brushing against his back. “No. I love you. That’s never changed—”

“No, I mean—oh, this is so stupid. Forget I said anything.” Elizabeth started to sit up, but Jason didn’t budge, trapping her against the headrest and pillows. “Jason—”

“You mean because you’re pregnant? Or—”

“No…” She bit her lip. “You know, I want to be a counselor. I’ve worked so hard to get there, but sometimes I feel like I hear things in the group sessions, and they just sit in my head. I was doing that couples therapy group for a while this fall, and I was just listening to these people who loved each other talk about how it fell apart. They stopped talking and listening to each other. And some of the husbands said they’d lost interest in their wives. Because the novelty was gone, and they realized this was the only woman they’d ever be with. And—” She made a face. “I told you, it was stupid. But it just popped in my head because I don’t know, we do pretty good in that area.”

“I always thought so,” Jason said carefully, unsure if that was the right thing to say.

“And it wasn’t just the guys. Some of the women said it, too. Like, it got boring.” Her eyes were wide. “And I thought, how am I supposed to feel sympathetic? How do I help them? Because I’m married, and I’ve been with you for over three years, and that’s never been an issue. And here we are at five-thirty in the morning, thinking about being together later, and we just were last night—”

“You know what I love about you?” Jason asked, and she broke off her ramblings to look at him with wide eyes. “You never run out of things to worry about.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Ugh, you’re making fun of me,” she muttered, slinking down in the bed. “I said it was stupid—”

“It’s not stupid. It’s not,” he said again when she just rolled her eyes. “How many people do we know who are on their second or third marriage?”

“I mean, technically—”

“Technically that doesn’t count, and we’re not bringing him into this,” Jason said, and she nodded. They didn’t often talk about Ric Lansing or the fact that Elizabeth had been married to him briefly, and of course, neither of them mentioned Jason’s insane brief first marriage to Brenda Barrett.

“I want you to talk to me about whatever pops in your head. And I want to be better at doing that, too. Talking to you when I worry,” Jason said. “I know I don’t do that enough. I’m better than I was—”

“I really didn’t mean to make this a whole thing—”

“You didn’t.” He picked up her left hand, sliding his fingers over the ruby engagement ring and matching gold wedding band, then brought her hand to his mouth. “I love you. And I’ll make sure I’m home at Cameron’s naptime.”

She grinned, then wound her arms around his neck. “You know, why wait? He won’t be up for a while, and you want me to stay in bed, don’t you?”

Brownstone: Kitchen

Bobbie set coffee down in front of Carly. “I’d miss mornings like this,” she admitted, taking a seat at the table with her own mug. “But you’re not wrong about outgrowing your apartment upstairs.”

“Truth be told, I’ve been thinking about it for over a year,” Carly said. “The second bedroom was already too small for both the boys when I moved up there, but I wanted to be on my own a little bit. To stop relying so much on you. And it didn’t work. I barely use my own kitchen. I drop the boys at school, and I come right here.”

“Why shouldn’t you? Lucas and Felix still raid my fridge. The fact that both my children still feel free to come and go like they’re not grown—well, it just means I’ve done something right.”

“I couldn’t have made it these last few years without you.” Carly squeezed her mother’s hand. “But I have to start thinking about the future. Sonny refusing to see Jason and me the other day — well, it’s time to stop feeling guilty. That’s the only reason I go, Mama. I feel guilty for enabling him. For going back to him after Morgan was born. You didn’t want me to go—”

“I understood why you did—”

“It set me back months. Years,” Carly said softly. “I’m still having panic attacks. I had one yesterday. AJ saw it,” she added. “And he feels sorry for me again.” She picked up her coffee, sipped it.

“Carly, why didn’t you say something? I would have—”

“It’s—I got past it. And I felt better after I went out. We took the boys to the movies and dinner.” She smiled thinly, staring down into her mug. “He was supposed to have Michael on his own last night, you know. And I found a way to stop it. I don’t think I did it on purpose, but—” She lifted a shoulder. “He says I still treat Michael like an object. He’s right.”

“Carly—”

“And I feel stupid admitting that—there I was congratulating myself on how far I’ve come, you know?” She swiped at a tear sliding down her cheek. “And then I go to the prison, and why did I pick Christmas as the holiday to go? It’s December. Of course I shouldn’t go anywhere near Sonny this month. Why did AJ have to point that out? Was I trying to punish myself? And don’t answer that,” Carly ordered. “You’ll just reassure me, and I’ll be making myself the victim again. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want anyone to keep looking at me like I’m still that idiot who got locked in a room by her husband.”

“You’re the only one doing that, Carly,” Bobbie said gently. “And yes, maybe AJ hasn’t demanded much in the way of custody. But I don’t think it’s so bad that Michael gets to spend so much time with both his parents. I think AJ’s matured a great deal since your divorce. You both have. Sometimes, I have to admit, I’ve wondered—never mind.” She picked up her coffee.

“What? What were you going to say?”

“Well, I’ve wondered if maybe AJ didn’t push on having Michael more to himself is that he liked being you and Michael, and Morgan, too. A family. You look like one sometimes,” Bobbie added.

“Mama, AJ could never forgive me enough for that. And I—” Had forgiven him a long time ago, Carly thought, for that terrible fall down the stairs that hadn’t been anything but a tragic accident brought on by two people too stubborn to let the other have the last word. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Hmmm, well,” Bobbie said with a shrug. “Never is a strong word, honey. I wouldn’t be throwing it around so much.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Carly muttered. “Anyway. After I got over my idiotic panic attack, I realized that it was time to stop going to prison. At least for me, it’s only ever been guilt and obligation. I’m sorry Sonny ended up where he did, but he had chances to make it different. He confessed to murder, Mama. I won’t pretend I didn’t know who he was before I married him, but I read the details of what he did to Oliver Joyce, and it didn’t—” She cleared her throat. “It’s not what I expected. The guy was just trying to protect Scott’s daughter. And he wanted to give Sonny a chance to get out. Sonny murdered him. I’ve been blaming myself for enabling him to the point that he got that  sick. That he snapped the way he did while I was kidnapped, or that night in December, or any of the times he screamed at Elizabeth—but I think I’ve atoned enough for that.”

“More than enough,” Bobbie insisted.

“And so has Jason. He won’t see it, but I need to make him. We’ll both be better off when we put Sonny in the past.”

Port Charles Police Department: Squad Room

Dante emerged from the interrogation room, still half-turned towards the inside of the room, watching a uniformed officer take the suspect out the other door. When he turned towards his desk and saw who was waiting for him, he thought about running in the opposite direction.

Which was not how he used to feel when he saw Lulu waiting for him. The last two months before they’d finally taken this break had been rocky. They’d done nothing but fight over every little thing — but now that Dante had decided that it was time to make the break final, he realized how much he wished there was another way.

He wished he wanted something else.

“Uh, hey.” Lulu rose from the chair, her smile hesitant as he approached. “Um, sorry for just showing up. But I had some time before I went to work, so I just…” Her smile faded. “But you’re busy, aren’t you? And is this a bad time?”

“It’s not. I just don’t know why you’re here.” Dante walked past her to his desk, set down the case folder. “What did you want?”

“I…Maxie told me about your grandmother. I’m so sorry, Dante—” Lulu reached out, as if to stroke his arm but he moved away at the last moment, leaving her hand in space. “Dante—”

“Why are you here?” he repeated. “To comfort me about my grandmother? I haven’t spoken to her in years, Lu.”

“I know, but you always get a little sad around this time of year because of everything that happened. I wish you’d called me or something,” she said, and his jaw clenched at this reminder of their history together. Of how he’d first noticed her. She’d just been the waitress at Kelly’s, his best friend’s younger sister. And then she’d been there when he’d prepared to testify against Vinnie, his own cousin. When he’d gone against his family. When his whole world had fallen apart. Lulu had been the one to keep him centered.

How could she not want a future with him? How could they be so perfect for each other and not want the same things?

“You wanted space, Lu. You don’t get to complain now that I’ve given it to you. I have a lot of work to do—”

Lulu pressed her lips together. “You’re punishing me again for not wanting kids, and that’s not fair! There’s nothing wrong with not wanting kids—”

“I didn’t say there was. I just—” Dante shook his head. “No. We’re not having this argument again. We’re not. I don’t have time. I have reports to file before I leave tomorrow. And before you go pry the information out of someone else, yeah, I’m driving down with my mother. Is that what you wanted to know?”

Her eyes shimmered with tears, and he looked away, knowing he was being too harsh. That he was too angry, too ticked off with her for not wanting what he did — it was all unfair, and he was being an asshole. He just didn’t know how to stop.

“Yeah,” she said faintly. “That’s all I wanted to know. Tell your mother I’m sorry for her. I’m sorry for you both.”

She walked away, and Dante nearly followed. But at the last minute he dropped down into his seat, put his head in his hands. If he followed now, he’d cave, and he’d push the question down the road again. Six months. A year. Just like last time. She’d say they were young, and they had all the time in the world ahead of them — why rush? And sure, that would be fine, Dante thought, if he thought another year might change things.

But it wouldn’t. It was never going to change. One of them was going to have to say it out loud to the other. Dante just wasn’t ready for it to be him.

General Hospital: Cafeteria

“Just think, this time next year,” Emily teased, “you and I could be grabbing lunch as colleagues, not just sisters-in-law.” She set her tray on the table across from Elizabeth. “Have you thought about Gail’s offer?”

“I did—and after Lois called me last week to talk about the project they’re trying to get funded…” Elizabeth twisted the top from the water she’d purchased. “I’m really interested. I think of so many people I’ve worked with in the support groups and at school, and even me — how we all would have been better off if there was just a place we could go to talk one on one with someone without worrying about insurance or money.” She shook her head. “But it’s still a long way off. I have to graduate, and the project could fail to get funding—”

“Then Nikolas will pay the rest of it. In fact—” Emily nodded. “I’m going to tell him tonight. He’ll match whatever ELQ donates—” She reached into her pocket. “That reminds me — I have Spencer’s Christmas pictures—”

“And I have Cam’s.” They traded photos of their sons, ten-month-old Spencer looking ridiculously cute posed in an oversized box decorated like a Christmas gift with a Santa hat on his head, little tufts of dark hair sticking out from the white lining. “I can’t stand how stinking cute this is. Did you see Kimi and Trina?”

“We make some cute kids in this family,” Emily said, grinning down at Cam, then sliding it into her pocket. “It’s nice, you know, all of us being a family. I mean we always were,” she added, “but these last few years, it really feels like it. Ever since you and Jason got together, and he started coming around more, the house is always so packed during the holidays.” Her smile dimmed slightly. “And we really need it this year. Losing Grandmother…” She exhaled slowly. “It kills me Spencer won’t know her. Even Cam won’t remember her.”

“I know.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “She just kept…going. I remember when Jason and I got married, I felt sure we’d lose her by the end of the year. But she was still here to meet Spencer. I’m glad she lived long enough to see him. But I miss her.”

“Our first Christmas without her.” Emily took a deep breath. “But she’s here in a lot of ways. That’s all that matters.” She stabbed a fork in her salad. “How did Jason’s visit upstate go? Sonny as miserable ever?”

“It didn’t. Sonny refused to see Jason and Carly. Can you believe it? He let them drive all the way up there,” Elizabeth muttered, “and then denied it. Jason doesn’t seem mad about it, but you know he doesn’t really ever talk about Sonny unless he has to.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I think it’s bothering him more than he’ll admit, but I don’t really know how to get inside his head on this with forcing it, and I hate doing that.”

“My brother is a better human than me because after everything Sonny put you guys through, the fact that he still visits him—” Emily scowled. “Well, I know I couldn’t do it. And you put up with it—”

“I put up with a lot worse before Sonny went to prison,” Elizabeth reminded her, and Emily made a face, then nodded. “It’s guilt, mostly, I think. Jason blames himself for how bad it got. For what happened to me. For enabling Sonny—”

“Sonny was an adult who made his choices. I just wish Jason and even Carly would put him in the past.”

“I know—” Elizabeth pulled out her vibrating cell. “Speaking of Carly—” She tapped a button to answer the call. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Hey. Sorry to bother you. I know it’s probably a crazy time of year,” Carly began, “but I was hoping you’d stop by the Cellar on your way home. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Luke’s: Bar

It was still happy hour when Dante got to the bar that night, and he nearly turned back when he saw Lucky behind the bar. Though Lucky was his best friend, Dante had been avoiding for him weeks outside of work. He didn’t want any uncomfortable questions about Lulu, and tonight, all Dante wanted was to black out. But it was too late to back out and go somewhere else.

Dante dropped onto a stool next to Lucas Jones and slapped a twenty down. “Bring me all the vodka you have.”

Lucas snorted, his fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Michelob. “You and Maxie hang out way too much.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “She stole that from me,” he retorted, snatching up the shot Lucky poured for him. “Tell her to write her own material.”

“Do I get to ask why you want to drink your weight in vodka or are we still pretending we don’t know each other?” Lucky asked dryly. He refilled Dante’s shot and sat a bottle down next to it.

“That depends,” Dante said, sourly, picking up the shot. “Are you still pretending you’re not married?”

Felix DuBois, sitting on the other side of Lucas, whistled when Lucky’s expression creased into a scowl. “Oh, damn, shots fired.” He twisted his stool to get a better look.

“What the hell does that mean?” Lucky demanded.

“I don’t know. Why are you still at the bar, picking up shifts when you damn well don’t need the money?” Dante finished the second shot. “And Kelsey’s been sending me work shit after the courts close, so I know she’s not at home either. I mean, what, are you the only one allowed to make smart ass remarks?”

“As much fun as this is,” Lucas said, cutting Lucky off even as he opened his mouth to snap back. “Let’s just not. Dante, I’m sorry about your grandmother—”

“Does everyone know?” Dante threw up his hands. “You know, maybe we all hang out too much.” He grabbed the neck of the vodka bottle Lucky had left on the bar and started towards an empty table.

“I’ll take this one,” Felix said, sliding off the stool, and following.

“You don’t take hints very well, do you?” Dante muttered when Felix sat across from him, drink in hand. “I want to be alone.”

“Yeah, no shit. Dillon mentioned it to Maxie, who told Lulu, if you were wondering how she knew. I figure that’s why you’re ticked. And when that went south, Maxie called Lucas, figuring you’d find your way here. So, really, blame Maxie for knowing you too well.”

Dante grimaced. “The point of taking a break—”

“—is to take a break. But you’re telling me you wouldn’t want to know if Lulu’s mom got sick? Or her dad was in the hospital? Does taking a break mean you stop caring about each other? Lu would have been devastated if she learned it from the paper or some random customer.” Felix shrugged.

Dante wanted to be angrier – wanted to be furious that his friends didn’t know when to back off, but Felix was just the messenger. The mediator. It was the role he and Lucas always adopted, and he wondered if there’d been a divide and conquer strategy tonigh.t Felix was over here, which meant—

“Maxie figured I’d be here. And if I knew Lucky was here, that means—”

Felix raised his drink. “Lucas is doing his job at the bar. We’re not happy hour regulars, which you know. Lucky and Kelsey’s…situation has not gone unnoticed and if you hadn’t ditched the last meeting—”

“Lunch at Kelly’s was a meeting?” But Dante was smiling now.

“Maxie had an agenda and everything. Lucky’s mom sent up the smoke signal, Bobbie gave Lucas the job, and Maxie came up with the plan. That girl ever turns her attention to world domination, we’re going to have a problem.” Felix paused. “I don’t want to turn around and give it away, but you’re facing the bar. How’s it going?”

“Uh—” Dante glanced, and saw Lucas talking, jabbing a finger in Lucky’s direction. “Hard to say. Lucky hasn’t cracked a bottle over Lucas’s head yet, so—”

“All right, then.” Felix sipped his drink. “Now, on item 2.”

“What was item 1?”

Felix dug in his pocket, showed Dante his notes. “I thought you’d enjoy this.”

Dante recognized Maxie’s scrawl. “‘Number one, get Dante to chill out about Lu. She has a right to know, and he needs to pull his boxers out of his butt.’ Ha. Funny.”

“It’s a little spooky how well she knows us, to be honest.”

“It really is,” Dante murmured. “‘Number two, cheer Dante up. Bio families are stupid a lot of the time and they don’t always come through. Make him remember how awesome chosen family is, and I like shiny things in case he’s looking for Christmas presents.’” He snorted and slid the paper back to Felix. “I already got her present, but thanks.”

“She’s right, you know. About blood families. Mine never disowned me, you know. Not officially.”

“No? You never go to see them.”

“No point. I came out to them after I graduated high school. I wasn’t going to,” Felix said, “but I knew I was going away to college, and I wanted to, you know, be myself. Be out. The best I could. And I worried it would get back to them, so I told them right before I left for school and I thought they’d accepted it. I spent my entire first semester figuring it was all good. But then I got home at Christmas.” Felix stared into his drink for a minute.

“What happened?”

“They ignored it. Pretended I never said anything. Asked if I’d met any nice girls I could bring home.” Felix’s expression was somber. “And it told me what I needed to know. I could keep telling them, force them to acknowledge it, but then I’d just be making us both miserable. They don’t want to know.”

“Yeah.” Dante exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I get that. By the time I testified, you know, my grandmother knew it was true. Aunt Frannie—she’ll never believe it. She still thinks the PCPD framed Vinnie, made him a scapegoat. But Grandma knew. She knew what he was, and she still froze me out.”

“People will always find a way to ignore reality,” Felix said. “Last time I went home, I tried one more time. It was the year after Lucas and I started living together. I told them about Lucas. That I loved him.” He exhaled slowly. “I don’t go home anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Felix.”

“I miss them, sometimes. The idea of who my parents were. And could be. But it’s okay. It is,” he insisted, as if Dante had argued with him. “I came here, and I met Lucas. And his family. His parents are good to me. And his friends just let me in like I’d always been here. You know what that’s like. You and Lu started dating, and Maxie took you in.”

“Before we started dating,” Dante murmured. “When the news about my father hit the papers, Maxie and Georgie were running interference.”

“I’m sorry your grandmother passed away before she could change her mind, Dante. But you made the right decision back then. That’s all you can ever do.”

“Yeah, I know. And I don’t regret it. I had to stand up for those girls. For Brooke. I had to make sure he would never get away with it.” Dante shook his head. “I’m sorry your family doesn’t to be part of your life, Felix. I hope they see it one day.”

“They won’t. And I’ll live with it. I’ve already done a good job at that. I’ve got a man who loves me, and who wants a future with me. That’s enough.”

Dante nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Vinnie’s going to rot in jail. He’ll never hurt another girl. That’s enough for me.” He straightened, his eye on something at the bar. “Uh oh.”

Felix twisted in his seat to see Lucky say something to Lucas, then stalk away from the bar. “That can’t be good.”

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

AJ set the Christmas photo of Michael and Morgan on the mantel, y replacing the double frame with their most recent school photos—Morgan’s first, as he’d started at a private nursery school that fall.

Behind him, Ned came in, a frame in his hands. He paused and offered a hesitant smile. “I guess we had the same idea.” He held up his own — Kristina. AJ stepped aside so Ned could do his own swap. Most of the photos changed with the seasons, updating as the youngest members grew older and the family expanded.

The only photo that hadn’t changed was Lila’s. Taken the previous Christmas with her great-grandchildren gathered around her, Lila smiling proudly as Michael leaned against her wheelchair on one side, and Cameron and Kristina were seated at her feet. AJ wondered if Ned was thinking about the great-granddaughter missing from the portrait — Brooke. But he said nothing.

“Alan said you’d talked to Carly,” Ned said, sliding his hands in his pockets. “That you’d have Michael this year. I’m surprised. You don’t normally ask.”

“I always thought she’d say no,” AJ murmured. He exhaled slowly, looked towards the Christmas tree. “She didn’t. She agreed. But she mentioned Morgan, and I thought…well, maybe it’s selfish of me. Michael’s always celebrated with his little brother. Taking him away from all that just so I can have a morning—” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m having second thoughts.”

“It’s just one Christmas—”

“I took them to see that penguin movie last night,” AJ interrupted. “Carly and Morgan went with us. And I was thinking — maybe I don’t need Michael to come here. I know Mom and Dad want that, but—” He looked at Ned. “Maybe I could just go there. Sleep on the sofa or something or take the guest room at Bobbie’s place. All I want is to see Michael on Christmas morning. I don’t care where it is. Morgan’s still a little kid. I don’t want to wreck his day.”

“He’s three. He won’t even remember—and he’s not your responsibility,” Ned reminded AJ. He wandered back to the mantel, considered the school photos. “But he probably knows you better than he knows his own father. You spend a lot of time with him, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I guess.” AJ frowned. “What’s your point?”

“Just an interesting kind of karma, don’t you think? You’re playing father figure to Sonny’s son after he took yours away from you. I have to admit, I’ve wandered if that’s been deliberate,” Ned admitted. AJ looked at him, sharply.

“What does that mean?”

“If maybe you didn’t fight Carly so hard on having Michael here more because you liked the idea of Morgan looking up to you.”

“You think I’m manipulating the situation? To do what? To make Carly’s son like me?” AJ asked skeptically. “To what end? Sonny’s gone. He’ll be serving at least another twelve or thirteen years. What’s the point?”

“To make Carly rely on you. Care about you.” Ned tipped his head. “Don’t tell me it’s never occurred to you that you could use this to your advantage. A few right words, kind gestures, you could get them all right where you want them. Back in this house. And then you have Michael full-time. Just like before. With no Jason or Sonny to mess things up this time.”

AJ scowled. “Do you really think I’d be that calculating? Sure, Carly and I are friends now. And we worked hard to get there. And, okay, yeah, I care about Morgan. He’s Michael’s brother, and his father’s out of the picture. But you’re way off here, Ned. There’s no way I’d use those kids to manipulate Carly into anything more just to have my kid full-time. I’d never do that to those kids. Or to Carly. Way off base.”

He stormed out of the room, and Ned just smirked. AJ might not be manipulating the situation with Carly, but Ned had no qualms about doing it. Someone needed to push AJ to see what was right in front of his face.

Lucky & Kelsey’s Apartment: Living Room

Lucky slammed the door behind him, was in the process of ripping off his coat when he saw Kelsey sitting at the island counter in the kitchen area. He froze. “Oh. Hey. I thought you were working late.”

“I thought you were picking up a shift at your dad’s.” Kelsey slid off the stool, crossed her arms a bit protectively. “You, um, look mad. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Lucky exhaled slowly, his irritation fading. He hung up the jacket. “Yeah. Just decided to take off early.” He looked back to the living room, where the artificial tree was still not yet put together. It was the first time he and Kelsey had been home together in evening for a few weeks.

He nearly went into the bedroom, to switch on the television, and avoid Kelsey all together.

But Lucas’s last words lingered in his mind. You’re running from whatever is going on. Running and hiding. Just like your father.

Lucky didn’t run. And he didn’t hide.

“We should finish putting this together,” Lucky said, striding towards the tree box, flipping the flaps back. “Or put it back in storage.”

“Which one do you want to do?” Kelsey asked, and he looked at her. At the woman he’d loved for so long, his wife. He’d proposed to her at Christmas, two years earlier. And they’d married just after New Year’s this year. Life had been perfect. He’d never once had a doubt that Kelsey was the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

And no matter what Lucas thought, that hadn’t changed.

“I want to put up the Christmas tree,” Lucky said finally. “But I need help. I can’t do it alone.”

Standing across the room, her pretty brown eyes shimmered with tears, and he hoped it meant that she’d heard all the words he wasn’t saying. He didn’t know how to put together what they’d broke, but he wanted to try.

“You never could put it up straight without me,” Kelsey said, finally. She slowly crossed the room to stand beside him. “So, um, let’s go ahead and finish the tree.” She bit her lip, looked up at him. “Better late than never, right?”

“Right.” Lucky reached for her hand, kissed the inside of her palm. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

The stress and irritation of the day melted away the moment Jason stepped inside the penthouse that night, grinning when he saw Elizabeth holding Cameron, pretending to dance with him as Christmas music played in the background.

“I’m Mr. White Christmas,” she sang in her sweet, off-key tone, “I’m Mr. Snow. I’m Mr. Icicle—” Cameron was giggling as she swept him in another turn. She halted when she saw Jason, and her cheeks flushed.

“Daddy, daddy—” He squirmed, and Elizabeth let him down so that he could dash over to his father, a run he couldn’t have managed even three months earlier. Jason caught him up in his own arms, holding Cameron tight. “You home.”

“I’m home. I missed you,” Jason said. “You and Mommy dancing?”

“Mommy sing.” Cameron turned to his mother, held out his little fingers. “Sing Snow song.”

“Oh, Daddy does not want to hear me singing more,” Elizabeth said, laughing. She crossed the living room, leaned up to kiss him briefly. “But you know the song, Cam. Why don’t you sing?”

Cameron furrowed his brow, listened to the song. “He Mr. Snow. Ten Low—” he continued to trying to keep up with the lyrics, some of them garbled, but some were more comprehensible. When the song drew to a close, he clapped his hands. “Tada! I sing!”

“You did such a good job.” Elizabeth kissed Cameron’s cheek. “Go watch the movie and let me know when the next song comes on.” Jason set him down and Cameron ran back to the television, staring up at the screen. “I can’t believe it. He’s doing better every single day. A year ago—” She closed her eyes took a deep breath, and Jason drew her against him, remembering their despair the previous Christmas. Cameron hadn’t learned to speak more than a handful of words. He could pull himself up and walk a little, but he wasn’t able to get very far.

The doctors had told them Cameron might plateau for a while — they might need to think about speech therapy, and maybe some occupational therapy to encourage him to walk—

But then, he’d just blossomed over the spring and summer and now, as this Christmas approached—

“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth patted his chest, stepped back, swiping at her eyes. “Everything is getting to me lately. I cried at the commercials earlier.”

“He amazes me, too,” Jason assured her. He removed his jacket, and as always, picked up the coat she’d left hooked over the desk chair with Cameron’s underneath. He hung up everything in the closet. “How are you feeling? Other than the crying,” he added, taking her hand, leading her towards the sofa.

“Surprisingly good, considering—” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You know, if Monica hadn’t run that test, and I hadn’t had that panic attack, I’m not sure I’d even know anything was wrong.” She held out her hand. “Go ahead, check.”

He smiled faintly, but pressed two fingers against her wrist, a familiar but old practice. Jason hadn’t felt the need to check her vitals every hour in more than two years. And she was right — her pulse was normal. “Well, she said it was a small clot.”

“And there’s a chance the extra meds could break it up even before I have to check into the hospital.” Elizabeth cuddled against his side. “I’m choosing to believe in the good this year.”

“Me, too.” He kissed the top of her head, then focused on Cameron watching his Christmas movie in rapt silence. “I didn’t know being obsessed with Christmas could be genetic.”

“Ha. Funny.” Elizabeth sat up as the special went to commercial. “I, um, talked to Carly earlier today. She told me that Sonny had you removed from the visitors list. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jason shook his head. “It doesn’t matter—”

“Jason.”

“It doesn’t.” Jason rose from the sofa. “It’s my turn to deal with dinner. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Oh no, you don’t—” Elizabeth sprang up and caught up to him just as he passed the Christmas tree. “Jason.”

“I don’t want to get into this today, okay?” He gently removed her hand from his arm. “This is your favorite holiday, and Cameron—”

“And you go see Sonny every Christmas, Jason. This year, he didn’t just refuse to see you. He waited until you were at the prison to refuse to do it. He wasted your time, and he knew he was doing it. And now he’s made sure you can’t go back. Why can’t we talk about this? And don’t blame Christmas. It’s still four days away.”

“Well, then maybe it should be enough that I don’t want to talk about it—especially not right now—”

“Because you’re relieved,” Elizabeth said softly, and he closed his mouth, looked at her. “That’s why you’re not talking about it. Carly said once she was done with a panic attack, she realized she was relieved. Because now she doesn’t have to feel guilty about not going back next year. Sonny took the decision out of her hands. Out of yours. And you were relieved. So now you feel guilty about it.”

Jason looked away, stared blindly at a spot on the wall above the television screen. “If you already know, why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I wish you didn’t feel guilty. You shouldn’t. No one could have done more for Sonny than you did. You know that, Jason. Why can’t you forgive yourself for what happened to him? For where he ended up? You tried to get him a lawyer to plead it down, but he refused. He removed himself from his family, from his friends. And he keeps doing it. He has no one to blame but himself.”

“It must nice to be able to write people off so easily,” Jason said flatly. When she just stared at him, he muttered something under his breath, looked away. “I know all the reasons I shouldn’t feel this way,'” he admitted, fisting his hands. “But I do. I’m sorry if that bothers you. It’s just how it is.”

“It doesn’t—”

“Mommy, Daddy—” Cameron smacked the coffee table to get their attention. “Song. Look. They sing more.” He held up his arms, and Jason realized he wanted to be held. For one of them to swing him around.

Eager to be done from the conversation, Jason swung Cameron up into his arms. “Do you know this song, Cam? Can you sing?”

Cameron warbled out some words that sort of matched the rhythm of the song, squealing with laughter when Jason tossed him in the air. “Yay! Higher!”

When the song was over, Jason set Cameron back down and the toddler kept twirling around in dizzying circles.

“I don’t want to fight.” Elizabeth slid her arms around his waist, leaning into his side. He sighed, pulled her closer. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I just need to sit with this, okay?”

“All right.” She patted his chest before going to stop Cameron from losing his balance. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s find another Christmas special to watch. How about Frosty?”

“Yay, Frosty!”

 


In case anyone was wondering, Elizabeth and Cameron were singing songs from The Year Without a Santa Claus.

December 25, 2023

This entry is part 2 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

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.”

December 23, 2023

This entry is part 1 of 7 in the Mad World: At Christmas

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.