January 7, 2025

This entry is part 9 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Shorter than I wanted it to be, but I really wanted to get the dialogue of this scene right.


Dear reader
When you aim at the devil, make sure you don’t miss

She didn’t turn around right away. One hand remained on the door knob, and the other resting against the door itself, her head dipped so that her gaze was on the carpet beneath their feet.

She didn’t turn around, Jason thought, but she didn’t open the door. She didn’t say a word. Deciding to take that as a positive, he stepped towards her. “I didn’t mean for you to be the last to know.” Had never even made that connection until right this minute — that one by one, he’d told every other important person in his life, and that somehow, she’d ended up at the end of the list —

“It’s because I didn’t ask.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, then slowly turned. Her eyes were still red, the skin slightly swollen from the tears caused by Sonny’s insanity and Jake’s anger. But her expression was unreadable to him now — that careful guarded look that she only rarely reached for. “I didn’t think you’d tell me. You never do.”

“I—” Jason stopped, stumped slightly by that response. “Yes.”

“I should know better after all these years, I guess.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “You typically respond to direct questions if you can. Or you tell me flat out you can’t say. I didn’t ask. So I guess I can’t complain that you didn’t tell me.”

He squinted, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Bewildered by the turn in the conversation. “I—”

“Let me guess. You told Sonny because you were accused of shooting Dante, and that you’d tried to kill him and he needed to believe that you hadn’t betrayed at him. And if I know Carly, she was probably in the room so that’s why she knows.”

“Yes—”

“And Sam—Sam didn’t want you to see Danny. So you told her so that maybe she’d change her mind.” Elizabeth folded her arms, tipped her head. “But I didn’t keep you from Jake. And I didn’t accuse you of anything horrible, so I didn’t ask and you didn’t have a reason to tell me.”

“That—I can’t tell you’re if you’re still mad at me,” Jason said finally. “Just tell me—”

Elizabeth exhaled, looked away, her brow furrowed as if she were internally debating the question. “No,” she said after a beat. Then she met his gaze. “Because I don’t need to be told you wouldn’t betray Sonny. And I wouldn’t use your job to keep you from your son. Not ever again. You didn’t have a reason to tell me. I wasn’t demanding answers from you. And the few times I tried to bring it up, you changed the subject. I let you do that,” she told him, “because I don’t want anything from you that I have to beg you for.”

He dragged a hand down his face, grimaced. “It sounds like you’re mad about something else now,” he muttered.

She smiled now, just a slight twitch of her lips. “Not mad. Just disappointed. After all these years, you still don’t trust me or anyone else very much. That’s not the right word—because I know it’s not about trust—”

“Then what is it about? Tell me and I’ll fix it—”

“It’s not something you fix, Jason. Because you were wrong not to tell me, but not because I’m Jake’s mother, or because we’ve been friends for so long. Because you need to tell someone. You went away for more than two years, and this time you knew. You were awake, and it was a conscious choice. You woke up every day and didn’t pick up a phone. You let everyone who loves you think you were dead. You made that choice not once, Jason, but more than six hundred times.”

Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “And the one thing I do know about you is that you would never do that unless you thought you had to. So, no, I’m not angry that you were working for John Cates. Or that you were an informant. All of that — if you want to tell me more, I’ll listen. But I’m more interested in those choices you made.”

“There’s nothing interesting about that—”

“You’re wrong,” Elizabeth said gently, and so firmly that Jason just stared at her. “I thought you looked different when you came home. You agreed. Now I know why. The weight of all those days you lived without us, knowing that we grieved you, knowing that you would have to come home someday and face it — that weight doesn’t just go away because it’s over.”

His throat tightened, and he looked away, slid his hands back in his pockets. “I can’t change what I did.”

“No, you can’t.” She folded her arms again, and sighed. “It’s funny. I’m so angry at Sonny for the way he handled all of this, and I don’t intend to let him off the hook. But he’s got one thing right—”

“No, he doesn’t—”

“Yes, he does. You think you don’t have the right to fight for Danny in court. To stand up and demand your rights as a father. And you can blame me for it, and I could point fingers at Sonny or Carly, but at the end of the day, Jason, you’re the one who believes it.”

“Maybe all of that’s true,” Jason said slowly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have the answers. Just because Danny is my son, that doesn’t mean living with me is the best choice—”

“Why not? He thought you were dead, Jason! He had both his parents back for a handful of months, and just like that—” Elizabeth snapped her fingers, and Jason flinched. “His mother is dead, and his whole world is upside down again. You’re his father. You love him, I know you do. He needs you and he needs to remember he’s only fourteen years old! He’s not an adult. Jake is putting off school because he doesn’t trust you to put Danny first.”

“I’m trying to—” Jason dragged his hands through his hair. “I’m trying to—”

“No, you’re sitting back like you always do. Reacting. Waiting for someone else to make the first move. You always did that to me, Jason, and it drove me insane because it meant I had to do what I thought was right for you and I sucked at it. You’re the only one who knows what’s right for you.”

“It seems like you’re still doing it. Still trying to tell me what’s best for me—” He clenched his jaw, and could feel the vein at his temple throb.

“Yeah, and you used to hate that. So get mad and tell me to go to hell—” Elizabeth held up a hand, lifted her brows. “Oh, sorry, I wouldn’t want to tell you what to do. Old habits die hard, you know. Sonny was out of line, Jason, but he did it because he thinks you won’t. Carly stomps around in your life because she knows you won’t stop her. Sam and I make—” She closed her eyes. “We made decisions for the boys because we knew you wouldn’t.” She opened her eyes, met his gaze directly. “Stop worrying about everyone else, Jason. Stop trying to do the right thing. To please everyone. To be everything to everyone. Put yourself first.”

“How do you I know that’s not what I was doing for two years?” Jason demanded, irritated beyond measure that every word she said was the absolute, devastating truth. “Maybe I was doing what I wanted, and that’s why I feel guilty. Maybe it was a relief to be away from all of this, from the demands and expectations, and the regrets and the hurt, and the mistakes—maybe I have nothing to feel sorry for at all. Maybe I liked it because it was simple. I had a job, I did the job, and I went on to the next thing. Maybe—” He broke off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Maybe I’m not the person I used to be, and everyone looking for me to be someone I’m not is what pisses me off.”

He stopped again, this time closing his mouth, mortified that any of those words had come from him, unsure how he could drag them back, shove them deep down where they belonged, in the dark. Just like him.

There was a long, terrifying moment of silence as they stared at each other, and then, for some reason, Elizabeth smiled. A true smile this time, one that reached her eyes. “Do you feel better?”

“I—” Jason paused. “What?”

“Do you feel better?” Elizabeth repeated.

“I—” He considered the question, because of course he didn’t feel better. How could he? He’d just spewed a bunch of a bullshit that wasn’t anything like what he really felt, except—

It was.

“I didn’t mean it—”

“Don’t walk it back.” Elizabeth came forward, closing the distance between. She reached for the edges of his jacket, tugging the sides straight. “Look at me.” She said nothing until he did as she asked, meeting her eyes again. “There’s no judgment here. Do you feel better?”

“Y-yes,” Jason finally admitted. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no. Don’t. Jason.” Her eyes softened. “Do you think I believe for a second you didn’t miss our son? That you didn’t worry about him or Danny or Michael or anyone here? Do you think for a second that I believe you were off living a happy life free of all the demands here?”

“No. No. I wasn’t—”

“I know.” She smoothed his jacket again, then let her hands fall back to her sides, took a step back. “But a piece of you was. And it’s okay. Your secret is safe with me.”

December 31, 2024

This entry is part 8 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 55 minutes. I meant to have a second scene but this first one just took time to get right, but I’m happy with how it came out.


Dear reader
The greatest of luxuries is your secrets

The moment Jake learned that his father was still alive was burned in his brain, doomed to repeat itself on a loop, to be etched forever as a symbol of the fucked up relationship he’d had with his father since the day he’d returned from Greece.

He’d been lounging on his bed, switching back and forth between Snapchat and Tiktok, plotting how to sneak out with friends that weekend, endlessly scrolling instead of rolling over and going to sleep. Then he’d gotten an alert, a 911 text from a friend whose father worked at the PCPD.

yo dude they put out a apb on ur dad thats hella weird aint he dead

Jake had jerked straight up, his blood running cold, reading the words over and over again. He’d wanted it to be a lie. He’d tried everything.

hes dead dickwad april fools is for kids im gonna kick ur ass when i see u

There was no such thing as silence, not truly. He’d sat in that room, not speaking, not moving, but he was suddenly aware of every single sound. The creak of the steps when his brother sprinted down them, the wind from his open window, the cars pulling to a stop at the traffic light a block away, the squeal of brakes from those who waited too long—

no cap dude look its all over news turn on tv

His friend had attached the screenshot of an article from the Port Charles Sun website — COP SHOT BY MOBSTER BACK FROM THE DEAD!

Below the headline he found his father. They’d used one of his many mugshots and Jake had stared at that image — it was from his arrest the year he’d died. When the PCPD thought he’d murdered Franco. Everyone thought it — Cameron, Aiden, everyone at school — even his mother, who was careful not to say and had always defended Jason, harbored doubts.

But Jake never had. His dad was a complicated guy who’d done some crimes, sure. But cold-blooded murder? Of Jake’s stepfather?  No fucking way. And Jake had been right. Jason had been exonerated, and the world had gone back to normal for a while.

Until the tunnels in Greece had stolen his father away for good this time. He’d died trying to help someone, his mother had said, fighting back tears. It was a devastating loss for them all, Jake knew. Jason was more than just his dad, he was Mom’s best friend, and always had been.

Jake stared at the image for a long moment, then went back to the messages.

its a mistake my dad is dead theyre wrong

idk theres a vid ill try to find out more maybe its good news its cool if he came back right don’t u want ur dad to be alive?

Desperately.

He’d never answered his friend, had tossed the phone aside, and gone for the television downstairs, only to find Aiden already glued to the screen, and by the time his mother had called from the hospital, Jake knew it was true.

His dad was alive. He was wanted for trying to kill Dante. But this time Jake couldn’t believe in his dad. How could he?

His dad had pretended to be dead for over two years. If he could do that — if he could fake his death and run away from all of them, then maybe Jake had never known him at all.

It didn’t matter that his father was exonerated of that, too. Or that he’d showed up looking older and more worn — more tired — but still looking like his dad. It didn’t matter that he said all the right things or that his mother very carefully tried to support Jake while defending Jason —

None of that mattered.

Because there’d been that moment, that awful moment, and Jake couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t ignore it. He tried for his mother, he tried for his brother, he tried for himself, and he thought he’d managed it. His dad paid for school, went with him to the airport, and they’d talked a few times on the phone — but never for long. And nothing more than a check in.

Because Jake couldn’t stop remembering that night, sitting in his room, the horrible, awful feeling that his father had left them. Left him.

And it was that anger that had exploded today, that anger that fueled Jake as he drove away from his mother’s house, driving aimlessly after dropping Aiden off at his boyfriend’s.

When he found himself near Kelly’s, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d skipped breakfast and lunch. Jake pulled into the parking lot, hoping he could duck in and out without running into anyone.

He scanned the inside of the diner from the courtyard, but he’d missed Michael sitting in the back corner with his daughter. His cousin lifted a hand in greeting, and Jake sighed, knowing he couldn’t walk away. He scanned his memory for the kid’s name — Amy or something — and headed back.

“This is a nice surprise.” Michael rose and hugged Jake lightly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was in a sad way, Jake thought, not a lying way. “We haven’t ordered yet, so you can join us.” He tilted his head. “Unless you’re in a hurry.”

To go back home? Not a chance. “Nah. This is a good. It’s, uh, nice to see you. I guess. Not—” He winced, dropped into the chair across from his cousin. “That’s not what I meant. I mean—”

“I get it. You’re home for a sad reason, so yeah, I’m glad we can catch up but I wish we couldn’t, you know?”

“Yeah.” Jake released his first easy breath. “Yeah, that’s it.” He picked up the menu, pretended to read it. “Um, how are you? The kids—” He peered over the menu to the toddler who beamed at him.

“Growing up way too fast,” Michael said, dumping a few more puffs on the kid’s little tray. “Amelia will be two in a few months. I don’t really know where the time’s gone, you know? Wiley just turned six.”

“Six,” Jake repeated. He rubbed his temple. “That did happen fast.”

Michael opened his mouth, but the waitress came over before he could say anything. When she’d left, taking their orders with her, he folded his arms on the table, leaned forward. “Are you okay? I mean, I know you’re probably worried about your brother, but I don’t know, you just look—” He wrinkled his nose. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Seems to be the theme today,” Jake muttered, then sighed when Michael lifted his brows. “I dunno. I’m still mad at my dad,” he admitted. “And…um, well, your dad came by my house today. I guess you should know that.”

“My dad? Why?” Michael asked suspiciously. “Not that he can’t, but he and your mom aren’t, like, super close.”

“No, clearly. They were arguing — or he was yelling at her—and it all just kind of—” Jake pressed his lips together. “Did you know that my mom lied to my dad about me? I mean, that he was my father?”

Michael’s mouth parted and his eyes widened. “Whoa—oh, man, is that what my dad said? That’s like ancient history. Why would he bring it up?”

Jake reached for a napkin, began to shred it into tiny pieces. “I dunno. Something about my mom being the reason my dad thinks he’s not a good father or some shit like that. I didn’t overhear a lot, because Dad showed up and he was really.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Michael dragged a hand down his cheek. “Oh, man,” he repeated. “I can’t even begin to think why Dad thought that was a good idea, but well, it’s not like he’s had a lot of common sense this year, and I wish like hell I could blame the way Ava screwed with his meds, but I can’t. Parents are exhausting, you know that?”

Jake snorted, feeling the first stirrings of amusement. “Yeah, they definitely are. But you probably win that contest.”

“Oh, definitely. Listen, we could get into the wildness that was that era because I do know some of it,” Michael admitted, “but I gotta tell you, as someone who once learned a whole lot of awful things about my childhood and what went down before I was born, it’s a slippery slope. Because your parents are humans who make giant mistakes, and it’s hard to go back to when they were just…you know, your parents.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Jake reached for his soda, considering Michael’s words. He swirled the straw in his glass. “I always knew Dad was complicated. I mean, even before he came home after the Cassadines took him and that coma thing — I had Drew—” He hesitated when he saw Michael’s mouth tighten, but it was gone so quickly he thought he imagined it. “But Drew was supposed to be Jason Morgan, right? So, like, you can’t grow up and not know. And he was always in and out of trouble. It’s just, like, that always seemed separate. Like that guy was—” Jake gestured. “Out there. And my dad was this other guy.”

“You separate them,” Michael said nodding in agreement. “Because you can’t really make it work in your head how they’re the same guy. I definitely get that, Jake.”

“But I always thought my dad—” Jake paused, took a deep breath. “I always knew he loved me. He was so careful, you know, when he came home. So super cool if I wanted to be around Drew. Just really let me get through how weird it was. But we did get through it.” His throat tightened. “We really got through it, and then he was just my dad, and I could, like, always call him. And my mom, she’s always been the best. I basically thought she was perfect. Even when I knew she wasn’t, she was my mom.”

“And now they both feel like strangers,” Michael said gently.

Jake couldn’t look up, his vision slightly blurred. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been where you are, Jake. It’s not easy. It’s the hardest thing I ever did—confronting who my parents were — and some of the things they did that affected me. It was impossible for a while, actually. I walked away from them both because I couldn’t find a way through my anger. I couldn’t stop being angry.”

“Yeah?” Jake lifted his head. “How’d you fix it?”

“I didn’t. It can’t be fixed. You can’t go back to who you were before. There’s no magic trick. But I can love my mother, I can be in a room with my father. I can be around my parents, and have them in my life. It took time, Jake. But the day is gonna come when you’ll wake up and realize that your parents still love you. That you still love them. And you’re not as angry anymore. At least not at them.”

Jake sighed. “Okay, but what if I just punch someone? Do you think that would help?”

Michael’s lips twitched and he leaned back. “Oh, yeah, that’s your dad talking. You’d feel better for a little while, but you’re an artist, Jake. It’s not worth it.”

“I hate that you’re right. It’s annoying.”

Michael grinned now, the humor reaching his eyes and lighting up his whole face. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what Joss says, too. Being the oldest is a heavy cross to bear, but somehow I manage it gracefully.

December 27, 2024

This entry is part 7 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 62 minutes. The ending got away from me, lol, I was going to wrap it up and then they kept talking —  story of my damn life with these two.


Dear reader
You don’t have to answer, just ’cause they asked you
(You should find another)

Aiden peered through the window, trying to get a better angle on the driveway. “I can’t see them. Maybe they left.”

Elizabeth rubbed her cheeks, trying to erase all evidence of her furious tears not wanting Jake or Jason to know how upset she’d been. She went into the kitchen, switched the faucet to cold water and splashed her face.

Aiden came to the doorway of the kitchen. “Mom?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s okay.” She turned, looked at her youngest son. “Really. It’s—you know, adults they have fights and Sonny was having a bad day—”

“He sounded really mad at you,” Aiden said dubiously, and Elizabeth exhaled in a short huff. “I didn’t know you knew each other like that—”

“We don’t. We really don’t.” Not well enough for Sonny to be lobbing such horrible words at her, words that she’d thought deep down—accusations that he’d clearly been holding on to for a long time. Had Jason said them once upon a time? Had he buried resentment for how she’d handled things?

With that horrible thought now lurking, she bit down on her bottom lip, drying her hands on dish towel. “Aiden, I know you’ve got a lot of questions. I just—I don’t know any answers.”

“I don’t even know what I’d ask.” Aiden stuck his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know if I ever thought about before I was born. You and Dad have never been together from what I remember, but it sounds like—were you married when Jake was born?”

Damn Sonny Corinthos and his big mouth. “Yes. Technically—” Elizabeth winced. “It’s complicated, Aiden, and it’s not something I want to explain to you right now.” Or ever.

“Yeah, I get that. I just—is Jason why you and Dad got divorced? I’m not judging you, Mom—”

Oh, but he would. They all would. Just like they had then. After being forced to admit her night with Jason on the stand, rumors had swirled about Jake for years—no one had been all that surprised when they were confirmed after the accident. Angry. Upset. But not surprised.

And that wasn’t long after she’d gone through that horrifying period when her affair with Nikolas with had become public. Oh, God. Why was it all coming back now? Why, why

“I don’t want to upset you, Mom. So forget I asked—”

“The reasons your father and I aren’t together are…not entirely for me to say,” Elizabeth said finally. “There are things I don’t know if Lucky wants me to talk about without him. Or at all.” And they were Lucky’s secrets, his shame to keep. They had nothing to do with who she was now, or his relationship with Aiden.

She gripped the counter in front of her, sorting through the chaos in her head, debating at what to do. She wanted to run after Jake—but Jason had seemed so sure—

And, oh, what had Jason told Sonny for him be so angry at Elizabeth? Had Jason told him about last night?

“Mom—”

“Aiden, I appreciate that you’re confused and upset about what just happened here, and God, I would really like to reassure you. To make that go away, but I can’t, okay? So just give me a minute. Please.”

When she saw Aiden flinch, look down, her stomach sank even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just—okay. Okay—” She came around the counter, took him by the shoulder and guided him towards the sofa, trying to find her balance again. To find her center. It had taken so long to come to terms with the mistakes of her past—to forgive herself—

Why hadn’t it occurred to her that someone might want to use them against her some day? And she remembered, too vividly, the betrayal Lucky had felt when his parents’ past had been thrown in his face by Nikolas.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize, baby.” Elizabeth sat Aiden on the sofa, then perched on the coffee table across from him. She rubbed her forehead. “Your father and I dated in high school, then we were apart for a while when he was kidnapped by the Cassadines. We talked about that once, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. She waited for him to look at her, with those curious eyes that reminded her so much of Lucky during those halcyon days. “When he came home, we tried again. We even got married, but it was never really the same. We loved each other, but sometimes things happen. We had some really difficult rough patches. We divorced, and during that time, Jake—well, Jake happened. Your father and I remarried but we divorced again within the year. We tried again and we got you, but we couldn’t love each other anymore. Not the way either of us deserved. The reasons we broke up — the reasons we took those breaks — they’re painful, baby, and they’re deeply personal, and your father and I will have a conversation about whether or not we want to share any of it with you. You can ask as many questions as you like, but I won’t promise to answer.”

Aiden pressed his lips together. “I guess that’s fair. I know Jake’s dad was mad when he said it, but I guess he’s kind of right. Me and Jake, we don’t really have a right to know stuff like that. But it’s just—”

“It’s out in the world now, and you’re curious. I understand that, I really do. And I’ll talk to your father. I promise. We’ll try very hard to figure out something that we can all live with. Lucky might even want to tell you some of those things. But it’s his story to tell just as much as it’s mine. Just like Jason’s story is his, and not mine to tell to you or to Jake.”

“I—” Aiden was interrupted when the doorknob twisted behind them. Elizabeth was already up and crossing the living room when Jake came in, Jason just behind him. Jason looked worn out and Jake looked miserable —

Oh, but he’d come back and that was something, wasn’t it?

“Jake—” Elizabeth stopped herself from reaching for her son, clasped her hands together. “I’m glad you came back in. We need to talk—”

“Dad answered some of my questions, I guess. The important ones. And I guess I—” he stopped, grimaced. “I guess I still don’t really understand any of it, but if you lied about who my dad was, it’s not like you lied to me. At least that I remember. You always said Dad—anyway—” He looked away, his throat working hard when he swallowed hard. “Dad said he forgave you, and maybe I don’t get that, but whatever. It’s not my thing to understand.”

“I’ve never really understood it either if that helps,” Elizabeth admitted. “You have to know I deeply regret it. I’d give anything to take it back—” She looked at Jason now. “Anything in the world to have that moment back to do the right thing.”

“So would I,” Jason replied. He came out from behind Jake, touching his son’s shoulder lightly. “But I understand if you’re still upset. If you still have questions. I just—”

“Yeah, I know. You and Mom probably wanna get together with Aiden’s dad and come up with a story or something.”

Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t—I don’t want to come up with a story, Jake. I’m not trying to lie about what happened. It’s just—”

“Whatever. I’m done talking about this. I put my suitcase in your trunk last night,” he told his mother. “Can I have your keys so I can get it?”

“Of course.” Elizabeth hurried to the hook, snatched her keys down and held them out. “Whatever you need—”

“What I need is to get out of here for a little while. Can I borrow the car when I’m done or do you need it?”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, folded her arms, tried to keep her voice even. She wanted to keep talking, wanted to keep Jake right where she could see him, but he wasn’t looking at her. Hadn’t even met her eyes since he’d come back in— “Of course. You—you probably want to check in friends. Take the car. Take whatever you need.”

“Hey, maybe you can drop me off at Tobias’s,” Aiden said, appearing from behind Elizabeth. “I, uh, think maybe Mom needs a minute.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Jake looked at Jason, lifted his chin a little defiantly. “I came back in like you asked. Can I go now?”

Jason tensed, and Elizabeth could tell he wanted to say something else, but he just nodded. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll talk later.”

“Can’t wait,” Jake muttered. He yanked the door open, and left, Aiden hurrying behind.

When the door closed, Elizabeth’s shoulders sagged and she turned away from Jason, putting her head in her hands. What the hell had just happened? What the hell had just happened?

“I’ll talk to Sonny. I’ll make sure he never comes back here — that he stays away from you and the boys.”

She fisted her hair in her hands, tugging so that the pricks of pain at her scalp blunted some of the swirling discomfort in her abdomen, the tightness in her chest. “Why he did he do  this? Why did he come here and—”

Elizabeth turned finally, looked at him, the tears she’d struggled to hold back burning. “What did you say to him that made him come here and attack me? I did nothing to him—I did—” She brought a fist to her mouth, bit down on her knuckle. “Aiden’s asking questions and if he asks the wrong person, he’ll find out about Lucky’s drug addiction, and God, maybe about Maxie and Sam, and we’ve all moved on from that. That’s the last thing anyone needs. And what if someone tells him about Nikolas? About—” Fury crawled up her throat and she looked at Jason again, standing there, stone silent. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing that justifies this—”

“You must have said something—” She broke off before she said something she couldn’t take back. She wasn’t the victim here. And Jason wasn’t the villain. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t think straight, okay? I was going to call you, to apologize for how I handled that conversation last night, and then Sonny—”

“You did nothing wrong,” Jason said, taking a step forward. “Okay? Sonny’s angry at me. He’s—he’s disappointed in me. Just like you are. Because I don’t—I don’t know why,” he muttered. “Everyone thinks I’m supposed to have the answers, that I’m supposed to know the right thing to do—”

Elizabeth blinked as he turned away, his jaw clenched, the vein in his throat bulging. “Jason—”

“I told him that I was handling this, that I wanted to make sure I was doing right by Danny, but it’s not good enough for him. It’s not good enough for you—”

“That’s not what I—”

“What exactly am I supposed to do?” Jason demanded, turning back to her, his voice raised. “Drag Danny out of the Quartermaines? Shove him in that room above Bobbie’s? I don’t even have my own bathroom. Or maybe I’m supposed to take him back to the penthouse without his mother or sister—”

“No one said—”

“Alexis buried a grandchild and a daughter, and I’m supposed to tell her I’m going to fight her in court? What would I even tell a judge?” Jason demanded. “Hey, I’ve been dead for two years, but I promise I’m a good father?”

“Okay. Let’s—” Elizabeth held out a hand. “Let’s just take a deep breath. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” she said again when he just looked at her. “I was so wrong last night, so frustrated with you, and impatient, and I had no right to be.”

“You didn’t do anything—”

“Don’t forgive me so easily. Please don’t.” Elizabeth folded her arms. “It’s just—okay, I was worried you wouldn’t fight for Danny, but you’re so right. You’re handling this exactly the way you should be. It’s not a cut and dried situation. Especially with Scout involved. I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Don’t apologize to me. Even if I agreed that you were wrong, and I don’t, I know you’re just  trying to help. I know that.” Jason looked towards the door. “It’s not enough that I can’t fix Danny’s life—Jake’s angry at me for defending you, and he’s angry at you and he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be, okay?”

She bit her lip, looked at the ground. “I never expected anyone to tell him about…about all of that. It  felt like everyone had moved on. I mean, you and Jake, you had each other—”

“Elizabeth, you told me the truth before Jake was born,” he reminded her. He took a step towards her, waiting until she looked up, met his eyes. “You don’t get to argue with why I forgave you in that elevator, and Jake doesn’t get to sit in judgment with either one of us for it. He can be angry at me for not being in his life, for letting the lie stand for as long as it did — but I walked away from you and the boys. I made that a permanent choice—”

“But I started it—”

“I finished it.” He rubbed her shoulder. “We forgave each other a long time ago for all of that. We did that to each other. Sonny doesn’t get an opinion. Neither does Jake.”

“I never wanted my boys to know how horrible I was. How many terrible decisions I made — I was reckless and stupid, and I deserved every bit of pain—but they don’t deserve  this. Aiden has so many questions, and—” Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “No. No. You’re right. We forgave each other. Lucky forgave me. The two of you are civil, and that’s what matters. We’ll focus on making sure Jake is okay, and I’ll talk to Lucky to see what he wants to do, but Sonny—”

“I’m going to talk him as soon as I can be sure I don’t put him through a window. I can’t believe he came here—” Jason broke off, shook his head. “I don’t know what he was thinking.”

“He thinks that I’m the reason you don’t think you’re a good father.” Elizabeth bit her lip, searched his expression. “Is that what you think? That you’re not a good father?”

“It’s—” Jason exhaled. “It’s not because of you. Okay? And being a good father — whether I am or not, that’s up to Jake and Danny. It’s whether or not I have a right to force myself on my sons when I took myself out of their lives.”

“But you didn’t choose to do that. You didn’t—” Elizabeth went still when Jason looked away. “You said you couldn’t contact us. That you couldn’t come home. But you didn’t choose to leave, did you? To make us think you were dead—you wouldn’t do that—” She broke off, her voice faltering when Jason remained silent.

Elizabeth stepped back, hugging herself more tightly. “Did you know we thought you were dead, Jason?”

“Y-yes. I—I knew.” Jason took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you more than that—”

“Does Sonny know where you were? Does Carly?”

“Elizabeth.” But from his eyes, she knew the answer was yes. Of course they knew. Who else—

“Sam didn’t want you around Danny, but she changed her mind. She knew where you were, didn’t she?”

“I—I told her, but—”

“It’s just me that can’t know. Right. Right. Sonny and Carly and Sam.” She took a deep breath. “Okay.    Listen. Thanks for coming over. We’ll have to talk to Jake about school some other time. I have to deal with all of this—” She started towards the door,  her hand was on the door knob when he spoke.

“I was an informant. For the FBI. I worked for John Cates.”

December 26, 2024

This entry is part 6 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 58 minutes.


Dear reader
Bend when you can, snap when you have to

He should have known.

He should have known that Sonny wouldn’t let that morning’s argument go unanswered, and even more—he should have known Sonny wouldn’t—couldn’t—challenge Jason’s words face to face.

So he’d taken that anger and turned it loose on the one person who might actually listen—might actually believe him —

Jason didn’t have to know exactly what Sonny had said before he’d heard Elizabeth’s anguished voice when he’d approached the open front door—

“—and then Michael got shot in the head—don’t you dare pretend as if I had no reason to be concerned about your life, Sonny Corinthos! Your son was in a coma for a year! That terrified Jason! It terrified us both! How dare you come in here, how dare you—”

“How dare you use my son to make yourself feel better about the lies you told—”

Jake and Aiden were blocking the doorway, but Aiden saw Jason first, his eyes comically widening. He tugged Jake’s sleeve, and his son turned to look — his expression frozen in shock, his face white—

Christ, what the hell had Sonny said to make Jake look like that —

Jason stepped into the open space left by Aiden dragging his brother out of the way. “What the hell are you doing here, Sonny?” he demanding, blood pounding in his ears, the nerves just beneath his skin tingling as pure rage simmered just beneath the surface.

Sonny stood in the center of Elizabeth’s living room, his mouth pinched. Closer to the fireplace, Elizabeth’s arms were wrapped around her torso, as if she were trying to shield herself from a blow — from the verbal punches that Sonny was clearly throwing. Tears stained her cheeks.

Sonny’s hand fell to his side and he scowled at Elizabeth for another moment before facing Jason fully. “What do you think I’m doing here? Trying to stop you from making another mistake like the one you made with Jake—”

“He said my mother lied to you,” Jake said, and Jason whipped his head over to look at his son. “Did she? Did she tell you that you weren’t my father?”

Jason exhaled slowly, then dragged both hands down his face, counting to five in his head slowly because if he spoke now—if he said a single word before he could find a measure of calm—he’d say too much in front of Elizabeth and the boys—

“See, he’s not denying it—”

“Did you tell Jake the rest of it?” Jason said, his hands falling down. He reached for the edge of the door, slammed it so hard it shook in the frame. “Did you tell Jake every last damned detail?”

Sonny pursed his lips. “No—”

“What else is there? I deserve to know—”

“No, you don’t.” Jason looked at Jake then, at the flush in the younger man’s face. “You think you do, and I understand why that is. But you don’t deserve to know anything about my life or your mother’s before you were born. We were people who made mistakes that had nothing to do with you or with how much we love you.  It has nothing to do with why you’re angry with me now or why I haven’t told Alexis I’ll fight her for custody.”

“The hell it doesn’t—” Sonny started, but Jason took a step towards him and his friend must have realized he wasn’t entirely safe. He closed his mouth abruptly.

“Well, it’s too late now because I know—”

“You don’t know anything yet. Because Sonny’s about to tell you why your mother lied to me. Go ahead, Sonny.” Jason took another step towards him and Sonny actually backed up. “You wanted to have this conversation. Let’s have it.”

“Jason—” Elizabeth put herself between them. “I know you’re angry with Sonny, and you should be. But the boys—”

“They’ve heard enough, Elizabeth,” he said, careful to soften his tone. He reached for her, touched her elbows and gently guided her towards her sons. “I’m not saying we tell them everything, but if Sonny wants to talk about the day you supposedly lied to me, then let’s talk about it.”

“Supposedly? What—”

“Why am I not surprised you’re going to protect her—you have a right for your son to know everything, damn it—”

“Then why did you tell Elizabeth that it was a good thing I wasn’t Jake’s father?” Jason wanted to know. “Why did Carly rush over to tell me that I wasn’t the baby’s father before Elizabeth could tell me herself?”

“She was going to lie—”

“I w-wasn’t—I wasn’t—”

“And she didn’t. She never once told me Lucky was the father.”

Sonny opened his mouth, then closed it, grimacing. “You’re twisting what happened—”

“If I am, then I learned it from the best. You’re going to leave now,” Jason told him. “And you’re never going to speak to Elizabeth again. Not about this, not about anything. And especially not my son. Get out of this house before I remove you.”

Sonny stood there for another moment, clearly unsure of his own safety if he passed Jason which was the only exit available. Then, as if realizing Jason probably wouldn’t do violence in front of the boys. He dipped his head and left, slamming the door again.

Elizabeth flinched, then turned to her son. “Jake, I need to—”

“I don’t understand what the hell is going on right now. What was Mr. Corinthos talking about?” Jake demanded. “And why is Dad covering for you? Either you lied or you didn’t—”

“Your father is trying to—”

“I’m not covering—” Jason and Elizabeth spoke at the same time, then looked at one another, uncertain.

“I want some damn answers. Now,” Jake added, his voice breaking. “Is my whole life a life? What else aren’t you telling me?”

“Listen, um—” Aiden inched out from behind his brother. “As much I want to stay, maybe this would be easier if I weren’t here. I’ll, uh, go take a walk or something—”

“No, don’t bother. I’ll be the one to leave. I’m done with the both of you—” Jake headed for the door, yanking it open and was out the door before anyone could argue.

Elizabeth let out a cry and started after him, but Jason stopped her. He took her by the shoulders. “I’ll go. This happened because of me, okay?”

“But—”

He squeezed her shoulders, waited for her look at him, wishing he’d slugged Sonny anyway when he saw the abject misery in her eyes. “I’ll bring him back in. I promise.”

Without waiting for her answer, Jason sprinted out, catching Jake near the end of the drive way. He reached for Jake’s arm, intending to just stop him, but Jake swung out and clipped Jason on the edge of the jaw.

It stung slightly, but it didn’t knock Jason off balance. “You damn well better have known it was me coming after you,” he said flatly, holding Jake in place by the arm when he tried to struggle free. “Because if you ever swing on your mother, I’ll kick your ass.”

“I would never do that!” Jake retorted, disgusted. “I knew it was you, and I just wish I’d hit you harder—let me go—”

“Not until you listen to me, damn it.” Jake tried to wrestle free again, but Jason’s grip was like granite, and for once in his life, he knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to handle this. He wasn’t defending himself, wasn’t even thinking of Jake’s feelings towards him.

All he could think about was the grenade Sonny had just thrown in the middle of Elizabeth’s living room, and he’d be damned if Sonny would destroy her relationship with Jake.

“You want to know what happened before you were born, I’ll tell you. But none of it is pretty, and some of it isn’t about me or your mother. It’s about other people who aren’t here to defend themselves—or do you think this is how Aiden should learn his father was a lying, cheating slimy drug addict who did nothing but make your mother miserable?”

Jake froze, then swallowed hard. “W-What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think Sonny would mention that part.” Jason released his son, relieved when Jake remained still.  “Your mother and I were friends for years. And years before that summer, we’d nearly been more. But our timing was never right. I had just broken my engagement to Sam, and she was married to Lucky. She was happy with him until he was injured, developed a pill addiction, and slept with another woman. She caught him in bed with her, and left. Things happened, Jake, and when she realized she was pregnant, she told me, and we did a paternity test. But communication got crossed, and I thought—I thought you were Lucky’s. So I told her it was for the best before she could ever tell me the truth.”

Jake stared at him, his mouth slightly open. He looked down, swallowed hard, then looked up. “You didn’t want me then either?”

Shit. “All I could think about was how much I wanted to be your father.” Jason flattened a hand against his chest. “I’ve loved you since the second I knew you existed. I loved you before I knew you were mine. When Carly told me you weren’t, it killed me. But I didn’t want Elizabeth to know, I didn’t want her to think she’d disappointed, so I lied to her. It’s the only lie I’ve ever told her, and I’ll never regret anything more in my life. I used to think about it all the time — wishing I had that moment back and I’d just told her how much I wanted you.”

“I d-don’t—” Jake swiped his hand angrily across his cheek, brushing away a few errant tears. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Why was Mr. Corinthos yelling at Mom? Why did he tell me?”

“Because he and I had an argument, and Sonny doesn’t know how to fight his own battles,” Jason bit out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s complicated, everything that happened later, but I need you to go back inside. I need you to not to walk out on your mother. She loves you, and she didn’t deserve what Sonny just did. She was—and probably is—still deeply ashamed for how she handled everything back then, but I forgave her a long time ago.”

“How—she lied to you—she could have told you anyway?” Jake shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this. Mom lied to you about me. She said someone else was my father—”

“Why I forgave her isn’t important. Just know that I did almost immediately. Please—”

Jake looked past him, towards the house. “I don’t understand. I wouldn’t be able to forgive that. I don’t know how I’m supposed to forget that she did that—how am I supposed to forget that you left me—” He closed his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut. “You left me. And you didn’t care—did you even think about me? Or-or Danny?”

“I wouldn’t let myself. I couldn’t.” Jason had to force the words, had to find the right words to make Jake go back inside. “Because I couldn’t come home. I can’t—” Couldn’t talk about it. Couldn’t think about it. “Jake. When I said that I’ve loved you since the beginning, I mean that. There has never  been a single day, a second that I haven’t wanted you. That I haven’t loved you. I know you don’t believe that, and I understand it—but your mother—”

“You keep defending her, but she lied—she lied just like you did—” Jake shook his head, took a step back. “I can’t. It’s like I don’t know either of you—”

“Really? Really? You’re going to let one lie that she told before you were even born change every thing you know about your mother?” Irritated beyond reason, Jason released his son. “She nearly died bringing you into this world, but I guess that doesn’t matter to you, does it? She walked through a burning house to save your life, but that doesn’t matter. When you were kidnapped, when the Cassadines made her believe you were dead, she grieved until she nearly drove herself mad—when has your mother ever given you a reason not to believe in her? If you let something some angry son of a bitch screamed at her so that he could feel better about himself—if you let that change the last seventeen years of your life, then maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

Jake pressed his lips together, looked down at the ground. “I’m angry all the time,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “And I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to stop being mad at you, and now Mom—and Danny—he makes me mad too because he believes in you, and I want to tell him to stop, I want to stop him from thinking you’ll save the day, because I used to think that and then you were alive and not dead, and I hated you. I hated you for leaving, for not coming back, for not loving me enough to stay—and you’re doing it again to Danny, and Mom is always defending you just like you defend her—and I’m just angry—” He broke off, looked away. “I don’t know how to stop,” he repeated.

“I can’t fix that in a day. In a conversation,” Jason said. He tipped his head to the side, trying to capture Jake’s gaze, waiting until their eyes met. “And I can’t stop your mom from defending me. I’ve been trying that since before you were born. She doesn’t listen very well, does she?”

“No. No, she doesn’t.” Jake swiped at his cheek again. “Are you going to let Danny stay with his grandmother? Are you going to leave him again?”

“I’m done with all of that. I’m done being anything other than your father. Being Danny’s father. I’m not leaving him. Or you again. But I can’t prove that today. If you want me in your life—if he wants me, then I’m here.”

“We’ll see,” Jake muttered. He looked past Jason again, at the house. “Did you tie Mom down or something? I figured she’d be out here by now.”

“I told her I’d bring you back to her. That’s one promise I’ve never broken, and I’m hoping to keep it again today. Will you come back inside and talk to your mother?”

December 25, 2024

This entry is part 5 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 58 minutes.


Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart
(You should find another)

When he’d come to their house last April, and Jake had walked down the steps, it had stunned Jason to have such a visual representation of the time he’d lost. When last he’d seen Jake, he’d been shorter than Elizabeth, his hair worn longer, his face still carrying some residual features of youth. But Jake had grown more than a foot, and his hair had been cut short, his face leaner, more angular—more adult.

Seeing him again, months after he and Elizabeth had taken him to the airport and sent him to Spain, Jason thought again of how much of Jake’s life he’d missed. Some of that had been outside his control — the long, terrible year and a half Jason had believed Jake to be dead, and then five years in the coma, locked in a lab in Russia—

Jake’s fingers tightened reflexively around the phone he held in his hand. “If you’re here to see Danny, he’s in the back.” The words were clipped, said without emotion.

“I—” Had come to talk to Dante, hoping to talk about Alexis’s intentions, looking for any way out of this terrible situation. “I was hoping to see you later today, actually. Your mother told me about school—”

“She gets to be disappointed,” Jake cut in, “but you don’t. You paid for school, and thanks, but that doesn’t entitle you to an opinion on me or what I do with my life.”

Jason absorbed the hit, dropped his eyes to the floor of the foyer, then took a deep breath. Facing mercenaries had been easier than facing the righteous anger of the son he’d left. “I know you’re angry at me. And I’m not asking you to do forget what I did. Or forgive me. I told you that last summer. I thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t let my failings limit your future—”

“And I’m not. I’m sure Mom put you up to this. But she can’t change my mind either. Barcelona is there when I’m ready to go back next fall. By then, I’m sure wherever Danny ends up, he’ll be settled. But I’m not going anywhere.” Jake shoved the phone into his back pocket. “You were never there for me, not in any way that mattered. You showed up on holidays and birthdays, fine. But you weren’t there when I needed you, and I don’t want you here now. Thanks for paying for school,” he repeated, “because the last thing Mom deserves after taking care of all of us is putting herself in debt for me. I took the money for her. Not for you.”

Jason wanted to argue, wanted to defend himself, but there was nothing there. Nothing he could offer. No rebuttal that would make erase Jake’s anger. “Okay,” he said finally. “But your mother—”

“Don’t talk to me about my mother. You don’t get to do that. I came home for my brother. Do you know when they told us you were dead, he cried himself to sleep?” Jake demanded. “Do you know how stupid I feel for telling him that you’d died trying to help people? No. When Danny figures out that you’re not here for him, he’ll need me. And the one thing I learned from you is that when you love someone, you show up.”

“Jake—”

Jake removed his phone, did something with the screen, then turned his back on Jason. “Yo! Aiden! Let’s go! The rideshare is here!”

Jason closed his mouth when Aiden appeared a few seconds later, followed by Danny who grinned when he saw Jason in the foyer.

“Dad, hey. Jake, why didn’t you tell me Dad was here?” Danny said, then looked at his brother’s irritated expression. “Oh, you guys didn’t get into a fight, did you?”

“Everything is fine,” Jason told Danny. He kept his hands in the pocket of his jacket, balled into fists. “We’re good.”

Jake walked past him without a word, yanked open the door. “Let’s go, Aiden. I already texted Mom.”

Aiden looked back and forth between his brother and Jason, then shrugged. “All right. See ya, Danny.”

“See ya—” Danny flinched when Jake slammed the door. “You’re not good, are you? Man, I told Jake not to do this with you—”

“Jake gets to feel how he wants to feel,” Jason said, holding up a hand. “He’s right to be angry, Danny. I was gone for two years. I can’t change the choices I made.”

“Yeah, but you were helping people, weren’t you?” Danny said. “That’s why you were in Greece in the first place. You helped save Uncle Drew. Jake said he’s coming home for the spring. I tried to argue with him, but he never listens. Anyway, maybe it’s good. He’ll be around, and you’ll get to change his mind.”

“I hope I can,” Jason said. “But—”

“He’s just worried about me. And Scout, too. He takes being a brother serious.” Danny shrugged. “He gets that from Cam. Something about Jake having a really tough time when he was a kid, and Cam was made it easier. So he thinks that’s what he has to do for me. He still thinks I’m a stupid little kid. He says I shouldn’t get my hopes up that you’ll be able to find a way to keep me and Scout together. That’s why he’s so mad.”

Jason winced, then rubbed his brow with his thumb. “Listen. About that. I—I know you heard your grandmother is asking for custody of you and your sister. That’s why I came over—I wanted to talk to Dante.”

“They went to Turning Wood to see his mother. Don’t worry, Dad. I know you’re going to do whatever you can so me and Scout can stay together. I’m her big brother, so I gotta look out for her. It’s going to be okay.”

He was saying all the right things, but Jason had a feeling Danny was expecting some kind of miracle, and he just didn’t think that was possible. “I—I’m going to try very hard to make sure whatever happens, you’re okay.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he slid it out to find a text notification from Elizabeth on the lock screen.

Jake’s on his way home. Are you still up to talk to him? I really want to do this together.

He grimaced, considered calling her and telling her that would be a terrible idea, but maybe it would be easier with Elizabeth in the room. She always knew what to say to Jake, how to build the bridge.

He looked back up at Danny. “I have to go, but we’ll talk more. And I’ll call Dante. We’ll figure this out.”

“I know you will.”

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when Jason’s short text reached her, indicating he was on his way over. With any luck, they’d figure out how to talk to Jake into going back to Barcelona, and maybe she’d find a way to apologize for last night. She’d had no right to make Jason feel worse about himself on a day when he’d buried his ex-wife, and the guilt would linger until she’d made amends.

She frowned when she heard a knock on the door a few minutes later. Had Jason been close to the house already?

But it wasn’t Jason on her doorstep — it was Sonny. “Oh. Um, hello.” She stepped back letting the other man in. “I didn’t—I wasn’t expecting you.”

“No, we really haven’t had a chance to catch up, have we?” Sonny walked in, then turned to face her. “I had a chat with Jason this morning, and I thought we should discuss it.”

Elizabeth closed the door, then folded her arms. “I don’t understand—”

“Alexis is asking for custody of the kids. You hear about that?”

She pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes. I talked to Jason about it last night—”

“Yeah, I saw your fingerprints all over this. That explains the way he was talking to me this morning.”

She stiffened, narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Jason’s not going to fight for his kid, you know that, don’t you? He’s gonna let Alexis run all over him, talking about how he’s not a good father, how he’s never been there, that his life isn’t good for Danny—” Sonny’s brows lifted. “Any of that sound familiar?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t feel right discussing any of this without Jason in the room.” Elizabeth walked past him, heading for the other side of the room where she’d left her phone. She’d call Jason right now and tell him to get over here faster. She wasn’t in the mood for whatever Sonny was blaming her for.

“He didn’t think like this before you,” Sonny accused, and she whirled back to face him with wide eyes. “He wanted kids. You know that. You know what kind of father he was with Michael, don’t you?”

“I—”

“Hell, the whole reason he hooked up with Sam in the first place was to be a father again. But you took that away from him and you filled his head with all this crap about his life not being safe enough for kids—”

Elizabeth held up her hands. “First of all, that is not how that happened. And let’s not forget you and Carly practically teaming up to tell me what a terrible idea it would be for me to be having Jason’s child, okay?”

“Sure, blame me and Carly for your lies. But the way Jason was talking this morning about not being a good man, about how amazing Jake was because Jason hadn’t been in his life—that’s all you, Elizabeth, and you know it—”

“It is not! How dare you! I was with him last night, asking the same questions! I want him to fight for Danny, too! How could you ever think I didn’t?”

“I don’t know, Elizabeth, why do Jake and Jason have such a difficult relationship, huh?” Sonny challenged. “Maybe it’s because of you. Because you ripped out foundation by shoving Jason out Jake’s life and lying to him about who Jake’s father was. You know Jason would have stepped up and been a good father, but it wasn’t enough for you, wasn’t it? You couldn’t stand that Jason didn’t love you, and that he’d raise Jake with another woman! So you lied to him, and you lied to Lucky, and you lied to the world! And now Jason thinks he has no right to be a father because of what you started!”

She wanted to defend herself, to speak up, to change the angry words being thrown at her, but all of them were true in their own ways, and hadn’t she taken some of the blame last night? She opened her mouth, then shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. That’s not what I wanted to happen—”

“But it happened, didn’t it?” Sonny took a step towards her, jabbing a finger. “You lied to Jason, to Lucky, to the world, and you lied to Jake and the only reason the Cassadines took him was because you lied! Hell, maybe you’re the reason they went after Jason—”

“Oh, that’s not fair! I didn’t—”

“What, you didn’t know Lucky had dangerous connections? You didn’t know about Helena?” Sonny sneered. “Don’t try to sell me on that, Elizabeth. You forget I’ve been around and I’ve seen it all. How many times have you lied to those kids? You’re going to fix this, damn it. You’re going to find a way to make sure Jason knows that he’s a good father, that he deserves to be a father. You owe him that much for all the years you stole from him and from Jake. You started this, Elizabeth, and by God, you’re going to end it. I refuse to let you steal another son from Jason—”

The door opened on Sonny’s last statement, and he whirled around to find Jake and Aiden at the threshold. Elizabeth swiped at her cheeks, turning away so that the boys couldn’t see her tears.

“What’s going on here?” Jake asked, coming inside. Behind him Aiden hovered behind him. “What are you talking about? Mom? What’s he talking about? How did she steal a son from my dad?”

Sonny lifted his brows, looked at Elizabeth who couldn’t speak, her throat was too  tight. “Oh, you don’t know? When she got pregnant with you, she was married to Lucky. And told the whole world, including Jason, that Lucky was your father.”

Jake squinted, then looked at his mother. “Did you do that?”

“Y-Yes,” she finally managed to say. “But it’s not that simple—”

“And even after she told your father the truth, she asked him to let Lucky raise you. She made Jason feel like trash, like a terrible father who had no right to be in your life—”

“Stop, that’s not—”  Elizabeth grabbed Sonny’s arm. “Stop! You have no right, no place to tell him—”

“No, I’m of sick you walking around like a saint, like the world’s best mother because you raised your boys alone. Well, who’s fault is that?” Sonny threw out. “Jason proposed to you, didn’t he? He asked you to marry him when he found out about Jake.”

“He did, but—”

“And you turned him down—”

“Until I didn’t!” Elizabeth cried. “Until I said yes, and then Michael got shot in the head—don’t you dare pretend as if I had no reason to be concerned about your life, Sonny Corinthos! Your son was in a coma for a year! That terrified Jason! It terrified us both! How dare you come in here, how dare you—”

“How dare you use my son to make yourself feel better about the lies you told—”

“Oh, shit—” Aiden snagged a stunned Jake’s sleeve. “Shit, shit—” Jake turned and saw Jason looming in the doorway.

“What,” Jason began, his voice tightly controlled, his fists balled at his side, “in the hell are you doing here, Sonny?”

December 24, 2024

This entry is part 4 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 58 minutes. Happy holidays!


The encounter with Elizabeth lingered like a bad taste in his mouth. Even as he left her in the parking lot at Bobbie’s and watched her car pull out into traffic, Jason knew he handled the conversation poorly, though he couldn’t really say what he should have said differently. She’d wanted answers that he didn’t have to give which wasn’t new. It seemed he always said the wrong thing around Elizabeth, and he’d been doing that for years.

Still, it was in his mind as he woke the next morning,  and he went over it again and again in his mind as he showered, dressed, shaved, and headed to Pozzulo’s to check in with Sonny. He knew he was supposed to call Elizabeth today, that she wanted to talk to Jake as a united front and convince him to go back to school, but Jason thought that was a mistake. Jake wouldn’t care what he thought. Hadn’t they needed to practically beg him to even take money for school?

Instead, he avoided the idea entirely. If she really wanted him for that conversation, she’d call him, wouldn’t she?

And if the irony of leaving Jake for Elizabeth to handle the same way he was contemplating allowing Alexis to have primary custody of Danny occurred to Jason, it was on a level so deep he couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He wanted a distraction, wanted to think about anything else other than his failures as a father and as a man, and Sonny was always good for that. There was always a task for Jason to accomplish, and this was one area where he knew what he was doing. Negotiate with Sidwell to get Sasha Corbin out of trouble? No problem. Help Anna track down Valentin to get Charlotte back? Easy. Help Sonny get away with murder? He could do that in his sleep.

Stand in front of his firstborn son and give him advice about how to live his life? Look at his other son and contemplate raising him without a mother in his life? These were impossible tasks that Jason couldn’t punch or shoot his way out of.

But Sonny didn’t want to give Jason something to do. He wanted to talk.

“I, uh, heard through the grapevine about Alexis and the kids.” Sonny sat behind his desk, leaning back. Behind him there was a bookcase filled with things Sonny had never read, and the surface was lined with pictures of Sonny with his family. With Dante and Rocco, with Kristina, with Avery and Donna—

Jason looked away, focused on Sonny’s eyes, not wanting to think about not having any photos of his sons. He hadn’t had them in more than two years. Nothing personal, nothing that could tie him to his life here—

Nothing that would put Pikeman or the men he worked with on the trail to learning that Alan Jacobs was someone with people who mattered.

“I’m handling it,” Jason said, though it was a lie. He’d never told them in his old life, preferring omissions or remaining silent to avoid uncomfortable conversations. But he’d needed the skill in order to survive, and he’d learned it well enough. “Have you heard anything about Sidwell—”

“I’ll handle Sidwell if he pops up,” Sonny interrupted. Now he leaned forward. “I want to talk about this. About what Alexis wants to do. I can talk to her, figure out a way to mediate this.  She’s hurting right now, you know, she’s been through a lot with Kristina and Molly squabbling over the baby, and well, losing Sam right as we lost our grandchild—”

Jason shook his head. “I told you, I’m handling this—”

“How?” Sonny challenged. He shook his head. “You know, I don’t get you, I really don’t. You come home and don’t talk to anyone for months, barely spend time with your own kids, and now you got the chance to have one of them live with you—finally—”

“What does that mean?” Jason cut in, not appreciating the hint of disgust beneath Sonny’s words. Was Sonny really sitting in judgment? Sonny wanted to judge the choices Jason made?

“You know what it means. You let Elizabeth push you around and out of Jake’s life, and look what happened — the Cassadines snatched him up thinking he was Lucky’s, and then they went after you and you lost all that time with him—then you let Sam push you out of Danny’s this time—”

“I didn’t let anyone do anything,” Jason interrupted, and Sonny just lifted his brows. “I made those choices, too, Sonny. And don’t you dare blame Elizabeth for what happened with Jake—”

“Well, at least some things will never change.” Sonny shoved himself to his feet. “You still act like she walks on water. I don’t get you, man. Why aren’t you fighting for your kids? Why don’t you ever fight for them?”

“Why so they can grow up and die like Morgan?” Jason shot back. “So they can get shot in the head like Michael? Be dragged in and out of court every time I’m angry with their mother? Is that what fighting for your kids looks like?”

Sonny bristled. “What the hell—”

“You want me to go to Alexis and tell her I’m taking Danny to live with me full-time so he can grow up in my life? Maybe one day he’ll cover up a murder for me the way Michael’s covering for you? Is that what I’m supposed to fight for? Are you proud of the kids you raised, Sonny? Are you fighting for Avery every time you drag Ava into court? ”

“Don’t turn this around me, damn it—”

“Why not? You think you get to sit there and call me a bad father? Maybe I am,” Jason said, “but my sons are good kids. Jake’s going to one of the best art schools in the world. And Danny’s going to be able to choose whatever he wants.”

“And none of that is because of you—”

“Which exactly how it should be. I’m not a good man, Sonny, and my boys are never going to make the mistake of thinking I am. We’re done here.”

Jason wasn’t the only one with regrets about their conversation, and Elizabeth was mentally writing an apology as she went to Kelly’s, planning to grab lunch for Jake and Aiden. She wanted to call Jason, find a way to apologize for taking such a horrible day and making it worse, then make sure they were on the same page about Jake before they figured out how to make their son get on a plane back to Barcelona.

“Oof—” Elizabeth nearly careened into a tall, broad chest as she left the diner, brown bag in hand. She lifted her eyes, nearly expecting the universe to have put Jason in front of her when she wasn’t ready to speak with him. But instead she found Drew. “Oh. Sorry.”

“No worries.” Drew stepped back, letting the door to Kelly’s swing shut behind them. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday. It was nice of you to come considering your, ah, history with Sam.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Our boys were brothers, and they love each other. Sam and I made peace because they come first.”

“I hear an expectant tone in your voice, and if you think I’m going to do the same with my brother, then you clearly don’t know what’s going on.” Drew reached around her for the handle to the door. “And it’s none of your business—”

“No? Danny is still Jake’s brother. Scout is still his cousin. Jake loves them both, and he’s talking about staying home from school next semester to make sure they’re okay. Don’t tell me that doesn’t make this my business—”

“Jake is an adult—”

“And that means he stops being my son? He stops being my responsibility? No. He’s making a mistake, but he’s doing it because he doesn’t trust you or Jason to do what’s right for Danny and Scout, and so far I agree with him—”

Drew rolled his eyes, folded his arms. “Well, excuse me, but I didn’t ask for your opinion. Not that it matters. You’ll take Jason’s side just like Carly did—”

“Who said anything about Carly?” Elizabeth demanded. “I’m talking about not knowing that the kids are freaking out, they’re upset, and they know Alexis wants custody. Scout was sobbing yesterday down at the boathouse. Did you even know that?”

Drew pressed his lips together, looked past her. “No. I didn’t—I didn’t realize that.” He scratched the edge of his brow. “Dante—he’s been taking point on the kids. I’ve been—with the election and things at work, I’ve been distracted—”

“Like I said, so far I’m not impressed by you or your brother’s handling of this. Those kids shouldn’t even know the adults in their lives are squabbling over them like they’re pawns on a chessboard. And don’t worry, I’ll have some words for Alexis when I find her. They are kids who lost their mother, and you and Jason are punching each other, Alexis is issuing demands, Jake is throwing away his life, and the only person who seems to give a damn is Dante who has zero control over what happens to them.”

Drew lifted a brow. “Who said Jason gave me these bruises?”

“Do I look like I was born yesterday? I don’t know why Jason slugged you, but I’m sure he had a good reason—”

“Like I said, taking his side—”

“Jason doesn’t usually throw punches to someone who doesn’t deserve it. But I don’t give a damn about why. I care about my son, I care about those kids—”

“And you care about Jason. Don’t forget, I know exactly how far you’re willing to go to keep Jason in your life,” Drew sneered. “How long did you lie to me—”

“Don’t remind me. I’m sorry I ever made the mistake of thinking you were someone I wanted to spend my life with. How miserable I would have been when I realized how selfish you are. But you’re the one that has to live with that, not me.”

Jake was only half-listening to Danny as they headed down the steps in the foyer of the Quartermaine house as he swiped through options on the ride-sharing app, ordering a car for himself and Aiden to head home. He’d avoided his mother and her worries long enough.

When they reached the bottom, and Jake had submit his request for the car, he squinted towards the back of house. “I should get Aiden before he gets too involved with Sasha in the kitchen—”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Danny demanded. “You can’t give up Spain—”

“I’m not giving it up. I’m putting it on hold for a semester.” Jake slid his phone back in his pocket. “And don’t argue, Danny—”

“Why? Because you’re the oldest? That’s not going to work on me,” Danny shot back. “Because I’m the oldest in my house, so we’re both the oldest—”

“No, don’t argue because you’re a kid and you’re not in charge of my life. I made my decision, and it’s done. I’m not going to be in Barcelona if you need me—”

“I have Dad, okay?” Danny told him. “You’ll see. Dad’s going to fix this—”

“How?” Jake rolled his eyes. His phone vibrated and he tugged it out to see that his mother was asking if she should pick them up. He started to text a response. “How’s he going to fix that fact that you, Rocco, and Scout have different fathers so you’re basically going to be separated?”

“I don’t care. Dad said he’d make sure I got what I wanted—”

“That’s what he always says,” Jake said absently. “He asks what you want him to do and then he doesn’t have to make a decision. You don’t remember him that well, but I do—”

“I was eleven when he went away, not three—”

“Went away—that’s a funny way of saying he chose to fake his death and let us believe he was dead,” Jake said. “Danny, we’re not arguing about it—”

“I’m so sick you acting like you got Dad all figured out. You’ll see when he finds a way to keep me and Scout together, okay? He can’t figure out Rocco, I know that. But he’ll find a way.”

Danny stomped towards the back hall. Jake called after him. “Hey, tell Aiden to come out here! Our rideshare will be here in like ten!”

He typed a response to his mother, giving her an ETA, then looked up as the front door opened.

And his father walked through.

December 23, 2024

This entry is part 3 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 53 minutes. Honestly, I wrote myself to that last line and was too proud of myself to think of continuing and knew I’d never finish another scene.


Dear reader
Burn all the files, desert all your past lives

There were no time machines, no magic buttons to press, to switches to turn, nothing that could be done to turn the clocks back to the person he’d been once — to the fresh-faced young woman he’d driven home from a bar once upon a lifetime ago —

But for just a few minutes, for just a few precious moments, with the wind roaring in his ears, the flashes of road coming closer on every turn when he went just a little too fast, Elizabeth’s arms wrapped around his torso, her squeals of delight when they hit the outskirts of town and he could really pick up speed —

For just a little while, time did stand still and he was that man again. He’d seen her fighting with a stranger at Jake’s, and he’d stepped in—

And nothing had ever been the same.

He didn’t think very much about where to take her — there were the obvious choices — to the summit of the cliff roads at Vista Point where they’d shared a kiss and too many unfinished conversations — to the bridge where he’d taught her to box or where they’d stood in quiet contemplation of the son they’d thought lost to them —

But if she wanted to turn back time, if she really wanted to go back to a different moment —

Jason eased off the speed, exhaling a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He’d wondered if this land had ever been sold — if even this had changed in the time he’d been gone. But the driveway to the old estate was still there, and the statues still at guard, though time had worn away more of the stone. There was just enough moonlight to look around.

Elizabeth slid off the bike when it was safe to do so, tugging the helmet from her hair, and her hair falling to her shoulders. She set the helmet on the back of the bike, combed her fingers through hair. “I completely forgot about this place,” she murmured, heading for the statues that had once graced elaborate gardens, long fallen into ruin. “We came here once.”

“I remember.” He switched off the bike. “You never came back?”

“No.” Elizabeth stopped by the statue of the girl, studied her for a long moment, then looked at him. “Jake’s home. I should have said something back at the house, but I was just—” She rubbed her chest with a fist. “Everything started to go wrong, and I couldn’t think anymore.”

“He said he would try to get a flight before the service.” Jason approached her, sliding his hands in his pockets. “He’s at the house?”

She nodded, folded her arms. “Yeah. He said he and Aiden would spend the night. Monica, she, ah, gave them a standing invitation. She’s been kind, you know. Like Laura, not treating any of the boys differently.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “He said he’s putting school on hold.”

“What?” Jason straightened. “Why? What happened?”

“He’s worried about Danny.” There was a bench, and she sat, perching at the edge, her knees angled towards the center. She stared down at her hands. “The kids—they were all upset. Rocco heard his dad saying Alexis wants custody.”

Jason flinched, then dragged his hands down his face. “They shouldn’t know that yet. They shouldn’t be a part of it yet.”

“So it’s true?” She looked at him, and he averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze. “Alexis wants custody?”

“She told Drew and me tonight.” He kicked at a larger piece of rock that had become dislodged from the base of the statue. “It would keep the kids together.”

She said nothing, and when the silence became uncomfortable, he lifted his head to find her watching him. “That’s what Danny wants. He told me he wants to stay with Rocco and Scout. I—I can’t do anything about Scout, but—”

“What? You’ll let Dante have custody and you’ll visit so Danny can stay with Rocco?” Elizabeth asked, and he grimaced, looked away. When he and Dante had broached the uncomfortable topic, the suggestion had lurked in his mind, but had been unsaid. Hearing it from her lips —

It sounded wrong.

“I wish I could blame myself,” Elizabeth said, and he frowned, opened his mouth, then shook his head, bewildered. “I know I pushed you out of Jake’s life, and that I must have made you question whether you’d be a good father—”

“No—”

“Don’t do that thing where you absolve me of all wrongdoing,” Elizabeth interrupted gently, and he sighed. She rose to her feet. “You didn’t used to do that, you know? When I was wrong, you always told me. About Lucky—God, the arguments we had about Ric and Zander—but that stopped after Jake.” She tipped her head to the side. “We can save that for another argument. But I know this isn’t about that. You came home seven years ago and found out Danny was your son and Jake was alive. You went from no children to two sons just like that—” She snapped her fingers. “You were patient with Jake, you built a relationship with him. You had visitation with him. I know things were a little more complicated with Danny, but you were their father, Jason. And when we lost you three years ago, it devastated them.”

His throat tightened and he looked away. “I never meant for any of that—it wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

“Before we lost you, if this had happened, if there was a question of Jake or Danny needing to live with you, you would have done it.”

“I—”

“Something’s different about you,” Elizabeth continued. He pressed his lips together, kept his eyes on the ground beneath him. “I noticed it the first time we saw each other last April.”

“Two years is a long time,” Jason said after a long beat of silence. “It’s not like last time. I didn’t know five years had passed. I—I felt it. Every day I was gone.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t matter. Drew made it clear he doesn’t support Alexis taking Scout, and if he’s taking her to DC, then there’s no point in Alexis taking Danny—”

“All of that might be true, but why aren’t you saying that Danny is your son and you want him with you?”

“It’s—he’s old enough to decide where he wants to live. And he’s—they’re both so—I’ve missed most of their lives,” Jason said. He fisted his hands in the pockets of his jackets. “Danny wants to be with Scout, so I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen—”

“Do you think Carly feels that way about Bobbie? They didn’t meet until Carly was in her twenties. And Dante and Sonny—I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but I’m pretty sure Sonny didn’t know who Dante was until he shot him. And look at them now. You never used to make excuses.” Elizabeth took another step towards him but he kept his eyes looking just past her. “Why are you making them now?”

“I’m not,” Jason said carefully. “I told you, I’ll do what’s right for Danny—”

“The way you always tried to do what was right for Sonny, and what was right for Carly, for me, for Sam—” Her fingers brushed his jawline forcing their eyes to meet. “What about what’s right for you? When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”

“It’s not a good idea for me to think that way.” He reached up, took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I usually get into trouble—” He started to release her hand, but she held on, turning it so that she look at his knuckles. “Elizabeth—”

“I wondered where those bruises came from,” she murmured, her fingers sliding over the bruises and one thin cut. “I saw you and Drew at the house looking like you wanted to murder each other.”

“Like I said, I get into trouble when I do what I want,” Jason said gently tugging his hand from her grasp. “And don’t ask—”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Her lips curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell me anyway. It’s all right for you to rescue me when I need it, to listen when I’m having a bad day, but when I check in on you, when I try to be your friend, well, you change the topic as quickly as you can. I can take a hint. I hope there’s someone you can talk to. Spinelli. Sonny. Carly.”

Jason opened his mouth, but he didn’t have the words, didn’t have the ability to make her understand everything that was in his head, in his heart, in his gut, he never knew how to do that now. “There’s not,” he said finally. “If there was, it would be you.”

She sighed, then nodded. “All right. We should, ah, find some time to talk to Jake. Try to talk him out of staying home next semester. I think we should do that as united front, make it clear to him that you’ll take care of Danny, and that Jake needs to focus on his future. I’ll call you tomorrow when he gets home, and we’ll set up a time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Elizabeth waited another moment, the silence hanging between them, her eyes searching his, but whatever she was looking for remained unanswered. She started back towards the bike, pausing when he called her name.

“The girl. The statue. With the long dress. I can’t tell if she’s smiling. You asked me that once, and I never—I never came back to find out.”

Elizabeth looked from him to the statue. “I can’t tell,” she said. “I guess I should have come back before now. Even statues crumble when they’re made to wait.”


I wish I could to tell you that the last line is my own, but it belongs to my queen, Taylor, and The Prophecy one of the perfect songs from TTPD: Anthology. I honestly couldn’t resist, lol.

December 22, 2024

This entry is part 11 of 11 in the Flash Fiction: Masquerade

Written in 67 minutes. The last line was giving me trouble.


Mother Mary.

…a mother can hope…

The words swirled around in her exhausted mind, leaving Elizabeth baffled. She followed the older woman out of the room, down the hall, and up a short set of stairs. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected when Jason spoke of Mary Mae, but she realized now she’d been expecting a woman around Jason’s age, perhaps — well, perhaps, a romantic connection.

Not the woman of advanced years with a warm smile, friendly eyes, with her slate gray hair worn in thick, tied back braids. This was his mother? But hadn’t he said his mother had died?

“I do wish he’d sent word that he was bringing company,” Mary Mae said, pushing open one of the doors in the hallway to reveal a small, but comfortable room with a fireplace, bed, set of drawers, and a wash stand. In the corner of the room, by the small window, a small square  table of roughly hewn wood sat with a pair of matching chairs tucked underneath. “It’s not much, but you’ll be comfortable here.”

Elizabeth set her bag down on the table, then looked at her hostess. “I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten my manners. Jason—Master Morgan—” she corrected hastily, averting her eyes when Mary Mae squinted at her. “He neglected to introduce us below. I’m Elizabeth Barrett of Shadwell.” She dipped slightly in a brief curtsy.

Mary Mae tipped her head. “Mary Mae Ward of Wymoor. Master Morgan, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am. He was to escort me to Port Tonderah, but—” Elizabeth closed her mouth when Jason appeared in the doorway behind them.

Mary Mae turned to him, her expression suspicious. “I thought I told you to take the blue room.”

“I knew you would take the opportunity to ask Elizabeth about our purpose here and I would rather you hear it from me.” Jason met Elizabeth’s eyes and she made a face, then looked away.

“Well, Miss Barrett was about to tell me why you’d brought her to Wymoor rather than the capital.” Mary Mae lifted her chin. “Seeing as how we are on the opposite side of the island, it’s certainly going out of your way. Does this have something to do with the errand Valentin Cassadine sent you on when last you were here?”

Jason sent Elizabeth an irritated look, and she pretended not to notice. “You know that I can’t tell you that—”

“Yes, yes, you and your secrets.” Mary Mae folded her arms, looked to Elizabeth. “He was a good boy, I promise you, but somewhere in his travels, he got mixed up with that wretched Valentin—did you learn nothing growing up here, watching him wring the last of dignity from those who worked his land?” she demanded. “Turning tenant after tenant off his land—and then his nephew died, I hear he did the same to those estates—” She scowled. “If this girl is mixed up in Cassadine business, I want to know right now. I won’t have him in my home. Bad enough I can’t turn him away in my business—”

Jason rubbed the corner of his brow. “Are we to have the same argument every time I come here?” he wanted to know. “You complain when I visit, and complain when I don’t. It does not matter why I was taking Elizabeth to the capital. What matters is why I brought her to you.”

Mary Mae closed her mouth, pressing lips together in an unhappy line. “All right then, tell me your business and I’ll decide if your lady friend can stay.”

Elizabeth flinched at the inflection in the older woman’s voice, then looked down at the floor. She had been embarrassed when Mary Mae had thought her Jason’s bride, but she’d been friendly. Now that she was suspected of a Cassadine connection, all warmth had disappeared.

Jason exhaled slowly. “You say you expect better of me, Mary Mae, and well, I expected better of you. You know nothing about Elizabeth, and if you can’t treat her with respect, I’ll find another way to get her the information she needs.”

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Ma’am, I can assure you that I have no connection to Valentin Cassadine. None that I want anyway,” she added, and Jason sent her another sharp look. “I hesitate to tell you my story for it involves the secrets of others, but I promise you, I only want to find my family. Well, someone who might be my family,” she corrected.

Mary Mae turned to face Elizabeth fully, her back to Jason. Her expression was a bit less pinched, but the suspicion had not left her eyes. “I’m listening.”

Elizabeth licked her lips nervously. “When I was young, I believed my family had died in a fire. I was taken to live with someone else for many years, and I’ve never spoken with anyone I knew in my youth. While Master Morgan was escorting me south, he discovered that I have some belongings that he’s seen someone else with. It’s…it’s unique to my family. Only given to daughters. I can’t tell you what, ma’am. Please don’t ask me to.”

Mary Mae considered her for a long moment, then looked back to Jason. “You’ve brought her here to investigate this connection?”

“Yes. This woman came to the pub several months past to look for me. I did not take her name, but I thought it might be in your ledger. And you know nearly everyone in the region,” Jason said. “All I ask is that you look into it, and let Elizabeth stay here while I tend to a task in the capital.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, knowing that Jason intended to fake her escape to Thakrian and hope Valentin chased after her, leaving them time to search for her sister and devise a way forward. It was logical, and yet, Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with the plan. It put too much of the risk on Jason, and none on her. It was unfair, she’d told him, but he’d refused to hear her protests. But Jason sent her a look, and she closed her mouth, saving the protest for later.

“Is what you ask me to do a danger to my pub or the children?” Mary Mae wanted to know.

Jason hesitated, then shook his head. “No. All I ask is that is that if Elizabeth leaves the premises, she wears a cloak so that she’s not easily identifiable.” He avoided Elizabeth’s eyes this time, and she bristled. Of course Mary Mae would be in danger if Valentin learned that he was helping her find her sister. But this was not her family, and she’d already said too much.

“When you return, my boy, we’ll have a long discussion,” Mary Mae told him. “Now, you’ll go downstairs, wash up, and be ready for supper.”

“I need to speak with Elizabeth—”

“Not alone, not under my roof, young man.” Mary Mae arched a brow, and he grimaced, turned and left. She looked back at Elizabeth with a long measuring gaze. “Does he speak the truth? Do you bring danger in your wake?”

“Truthfully, ma’am, I cannot say.  We may have been followed, but Master Morgan seems to think we were not, and I would defer to his experience on the matter.” Elizabeth folded her arms around her middle. “I would like very much to wash up as well if that is possible.”

“Aye, I’ll send my girls up to start a fire and bring the tub and water.” Mary Mae pulled the door shut behind her, and Elizabeth finally exhaled, the tension leaving her body.

Jason pulled his shirt over his head, and tossed it on a nearby chair, then sat on the bed to remove his boots. The door opened behind him, and Mary Mae came in with a pitcher of hot water. She poured it into the bowl on the stand, left a hunk of a soap next to it. “I sent the tub to your lady. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“She’s not my lady,” Jason muttered, already picking up the shirt he’d dropped to the ground. He balled it up. “You could have been nicer to her—”

“And you could have been truthful with me, but I suppose we’ll both have to be disappointed.” Mary Mae lifted her brow, and he had to look away. She always saw too much. “I’m correct, am I not? You were taking her to the capital for Valentin.”

Jason said nothing. He dropped the shirt back on the floor, then went to the washstand to pick up a washcloth. He dropped it and the soap into the water. “All you have to do is say no, and I’ll find somewhere else for her to stay—”

“If you’d had somewhere else for her to go, you’d have taken her there. You’ve not come here willingly for years. I wish I knew why. Did I do something to make you feel unwelcome?” Mary Mae stepped towards him. “I know that I could not replace your mother—”

“I do not remember her,” Jason said, and that was mostly the truth. There were fragments around the edges of his memory. “What I do remember is no longer being hungry or cold, and that is because of you.”

“Then why—”

“Because I disappoint you with my choices,” Jason said, and Mary Mae sighed. “You cannot hide it. I see it now. To find someone to marry, settle down, and have a safe life. I could not do that.”

“I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself, Jason. And if I could only understand those choices — you left here without a word all those years ago, and I had nothing but letters. You  won’t tell me where you were, what you did, and well, I worry.” Mary Mae stepped towards him. “You think because I went on to take in more children that you were one of many? That I would not notice your absence?”

Jason shook his head. “I cannot be who you want me to be,” he repeated. “And I cannot break with Valentin. You told me that if I worked for him, you’d not be able to respect me. I understand that. I’ve made my choices, Mary Mae. And I’ll have to live with them. But I am asking you if you will look for this woman who might be Elizabeth’s sister, and allow her to stay here. I can pay for the room—”

“You’ll do no such thing. I’ve never charged one of my children for their room, and I won’t start now.” She went to the door, but stopped when Jason called her name.

“Will you look for the woman?” he asked. “You didn’t say.”

“I’ll do what I can, Jason, thought I have to say the story you’ve given me leaves more questions than answers. Who is this girl and why are you going to so much trouble to help her?”

Jason considered not answering the question, but Mary Mae deserved more from him. She always had, so he gave her what he could. “She’s lost, just as I was once. You took me in when I had no where to go, and I’m asking you to do the same for her.”

December 17, 2024

This entry is part 2 of 9 in the Dear Reader

Written in 60 minutes.


Dear reader
Get out your map, pick somewhere and just run

 

took earlier flight n uber down at boathouse with danny.

Elizabeth squinted at the text on her phone, then held it a little further away from her eyes to read it more carefully. Maybe it was time to pick up reading glasses after all, though she still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d reached the age of forty-two with two sons in college and the third only a few years away—

Where had her babies with their curls, sticky fingers, and missing teeth gone?

The path between the main house and the boat house on the edge of the Quartermaine lake had been widened over the years and lighting had been added since the last time Elizabeth had followed its flagstones down to the wooden structure that jutted partially out onto the water.

Though it was a tragic reason to have Jake back in Port Charles, Elizabeth was eager to have her middle son back at home, even if for a few days. It had been such an anxious time, organizing the visa and financial documents, making sure Jake had secured good housing—and preparing to be parted from her miracle baby for the first time since he’d been returned to her all those years ago.

Elizabeth had rarely let Jake out of her sight for more than a few nights a time, and that had always been with the supervision of another adult — whether that was a friend’s parent or his father.

But Jake had been entirely on his own in Barcelona, and his command of Spanish was decent, but was it really good enough—

She took a deep breath — she was already spiraling and of course Jake was fine. He’d come home hadn’t he? Sent a text from his own phone.

She came around the corner and hesitated when the boathouse came into view and she saw that it wasn’t just Danny and Jake down there, but the rest of the kids had found their way here. Escaping their parents, Elizabeth thought. Out here on their own, just the way she and Emily had in high school.

Grief rippled through her, sharp and keen, wishing that her best friend was up at the house, that Emily’s children were mixed in down at the boat house. Elizabeth pressed a fist to her middle, took a deep breath. Not everyone could come back from the permanence of death, and Emily was still resting on the other side of the estate, at the family mausoleum, where she’d been for nearly twenty years.

Time. It marched on, with no respect for anyone it destroyed in its path.

Elizabeth started again towards the building, but stopped again when the voices started to rise, and the youngest of the children, seven-year-old Scout, cried, “But I don’t wanna go with Grandmom! I wanna stay here!”

“Maybe you heard it wrong,” Aiden said. He looked to Rocco. “You heard it wrong, right? Your dad said you could stay here—”

“It’ll be okay,” Danny insisted. “Okay? My dad will fix it. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him I wanted to be with you guys. He’ll tell Grandma Alexis, and we’ll stay together.”

“Danny, man, you can’t promise her that,” Jake told his younger brother. “Dad’s not a miracle worker. And you know your grandma doesn’t like him—”

With a wince, Elizabeth cleared her throat and stepped up into view, the cluster of kids turning to look at her. “Hey. I’m so sorry—I’m not—I’m not eavesdropping. Promise. I just—”

“She got my text,” Jake told Danny, getting to his feet. “I’ll be right back, okay? And cool it promising your sister things,” he warned in a low voice. “Cam used to do that sometimes and he meant well, but you’ll just have to pick up the pieces when Scout doesn’t get what she wants—”

“But she will—”

“Maybe. But her dad just got elected to Congress,” Jake said, and Danny grimaced, looked away. “Let me go talk to my mom, and I’ll be back.” He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. I’m not going back to Barcelona until I know you guys are good.”

He crossed the deck and bounded down the steps, pulling his mother into a hug. “Hey! I missed you!”

Elizabeth held him tightly for just a moment, then forced herself to release him. She framed his face. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting, but I was going to see if Aiden was ready to go—”

“Yeah, let me walk you back up the house. I wanna run something past you.”

Alexis stood in front of the brothers, her chin lifted, and Jason had heard that particular tone enough to understand Alexis wasn’t expecting a discussion or a negotiation. She’d spoken, and that was the end of it.

Jason didn’t want to look over at the other man — as far as he was concerned, Drew didn’t exist. But Danny loved his little sister, and he’d been pretty clear on what he wanted.

“I understand that you want to keep Scout and Danny together,” he said finally when Drew remained silent. “That’s what I want, too. Danny made that very clear when we spoke about it—”

“Then we’re in agreement—”

“I’m sorry, but we’re not,” Drew said. He shook his head. “Scout’s my daughter, and I don’t intend to be separated from her.” He sent a dirty look towards Jason. “Maybe you won’t even notice Danny’s not there. It’s not like you’ve ever been a present father—”

“We’re not doing this,” Jason interrupted, turning to face the scumbag head on. “We’re not taking shots at each other. You know why I beat the shit out of you, and if you want to get into it right now, maybe I’ll tell Alexis why.”

Drew scowled. “You wouldn’t—”

“Uh, I’d actually like to know that very much,” Alexis said, leaning in slightly. “Because if you are going to pummel each other, the last thing either of you need is my grandchildren in your custody. They come first.”

“I’ve spoken to Danny. He wants to stay with Rocco and Scout. Dante and I have spoken about it, too. We’re looking at options that keep them all together. You can’t offer that,” he told Alexis who flinched. “I’m sorry. I wish we weren’t having this conversation. I wish Sam were still here. But she’s not.”

“I will make sure Danny and Scout have all the contact with Rocco that they could want, but I didn’t bring the two of you in to argue about it. It isn’t a discussion. It’s a statement. My grandchildren will be staying with me. And if you want to fight me in court, then I’ll do that. My only goal is ensuring those kids grow up safe and sound which isn’t something either of you can guarantee.”

With that, Alexis left the kitchen, leaving the brothers behind.

Drew lightly touched the corner of his mouth which still sported a split lip. “So, ah, I’m assuming you’ve spoken to Michael.” When Jason said nothing, he nodded. “That doesn’t change the fact you had no right to put your hands on me.”

Jason wanted to punch him again, his hands at his side bunching into fists, the anger coursing through his veins, blood pounding in his head. Just do it.

Instead, he stalked back out the patio doors.

“I didn’t realize the kids were so worried about being split up,” Elizabeth said, walking back towards the house, her arm wound through Jake’s. “I guess I should have. Your father talked to Danny about it, and he didn’t seem worried. He said they’d figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, Rocco overheard his dad talking to Miss Davis. She’s going for custody.” Jake made a face. “It’s stupid, but I’m glad we never had to worry about that. I never worried that anyone was gonna separate me from Cam and Aiden.” When Elizabeth said nothing, he stopped on the path, looked at her. “Mom?”

“It’s given me some restless nights, worrying about what would happen to me if you were all minors,” Elizabeth admitted. “For a long time, it was Cam and Aiden, and well, there weren’t really Spencers in town to take Aiden. My grandmother was too old. I asked Patrick to be their guardian.”

Jake looked away, then kicked at the dirt between the flagstones. “And then he moved to California and I came home.”

“And so did your father. At least, we thought he was your father. Drew—Jason—Drew—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It’s hard to keep it straight. But he obviously wanted custody of you when I updated everything. And I wanted to keep you together, but—”

“He didn’t want Cam or Aiden?”

“No. But then Laura came home and she was happy to sign on for all three of you. And then your dad actually came home, and I made him guardian so he could have you, and he never flinched at taking your brothers. Thank God we never had to worry about any of that.”

“Yeah, can’t imagine how Dad would have handled that,” Jake said, a bit of distaste in his tone, and Elizabeth bit her lip. “Who would he have dumped us on when he needed to pretend to be dead?”

“Jake—”

“I’m working on forgiving him, okay? I mostly have because you want me to, and well, I’m not a kid anymore, so it’s not like I have to see him if I don’t want to. But Danny still worships him. Thinks he’s a hero, that whatever he was doing was worth all the time we lost.” Jake dragged a hand down his face. “He’s still a kid, you know?”

“And you’re not,” Elizabeth murmured, her chest tight. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you had to forgive your father.”

“You have, though, haven’t you? You forgave him the first time you saw him, I could tell. I don’t get it,” he muttered. “I never will.”

“Whether I forgive him or not has no bearing on you. It shouldn’t. I’m an adult, and he and I have been forgiving each other for so long. It’s what we do, Jake, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just not looking forward to Danny learning he can’t count on Dad either. But I’ll be there.” Jake took a deep breath. “Because I’m gonna take the next semester off, and come home.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. “What?”

“I’m taking the semester off. Danny needs me. He’s my brother, and Scout—well, for a while I thought she was gonna be my sister. Cam did a lot for me when I came home from the Cassadines, and when they screwed with me. That’s what older brothers do, and hell, Aiden’s dad is here, too, so someone has to be here when he takes off. My brothers need me, Mom.” Jake folded his arms. “You can’t talk me out of this. I already filed the paperwork. That’s why I didn’t come home earlier.”

“I—”

“I’m an adult now, right? I make my own choices. You told me you moved out when you were my age because Gram didn’t think you could make your own choices.”

“Well, yes, but—” She pressed a hand to her temple. “Wait. I need you to think about this—”

“I don’t need to think about this. They need me, and well, what are you going to do? Tell them that their dads are going to fix everything?” Jake shook his head. “That’s not what they do. Sometimes fathers stick, like Dante, but mostly they don’t. And Danny and Scout and Rocco don’t have a mother to take care them like me and Aiden. So it’s gonna be me.”

“We can’t just—we need to talk—”

“No, we don’t. I’m gonna stick here tonight. Grandma always says I can stay anytime, me and Aiden because we’re family. So you can head home without us. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He came forward, hugged her again. “I love you, Mom.”

“Okay, but Jake—” Elizabeth tried to hang on him, but he was too quick and had already let her go, and was heading towards the boat house. It took everything she had not to chase after him.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. If she did now, she’d start to cry and he’d get upset, and she was already so worried that she’d influenced him into forgiving Jason—

She squeezed her eyes closed, took a deep breath, trying to catch her breath. And then turned around, started towards the house. She walked quickly ignoring the rushing in her ears, the roaring of her brain trying to make sense of everything Jake had just thrown at her, the bombs he’d dropped—

The damage she’d done to him—the damage Jason had—

Her steps quickened as she grew closer to the long winding drive where cars had been parked, then stopped dead when she realized her car was blocked by at least two others. Oh she just wanted to go—she wanted to run and keep running—

Where had her babies gone? Where had time gone? Where had they all gone wrong and could it ever be fixed—

“Elizabeth?”

She spun around, not registering the speaker until she saw Jason several steps away. Her breath rushed out, and she pressed her lips together, trying to gather herself. “M-My car is blocked in,” she managed.

He came towards her, looked at the sedan for a long moment, then back at her. “Is that why you’re upset?”

“I’m not—” She closed her eyes again, the words wobbling. “I want to go back.”

“Back where?” His voice was closer, and she heard the crunch of gravel. “I can take you back to the house. Do you need—”

“No, just back.” Her eyes flew open. “I want to go back to the Black and White Ball and n-never leave Emily’s side, and I want to go back to that moment in your penthouse and tell you Jake is yours so he never doubts how much you love him and I want to go back to the park and just go home and back—I just want it to stop. I want it to stop. They keep growing up, and growing away, and changing, and why don’t they stop—”

Elizabeth pressed her hands against her mouth, finally stopping the spiraling spill of madness, hot tears coursing their way down her cheeks.

In front of her, Jason looked pained, his eyes glimmering, his throat tight. He looked away, swallowed hard, then looked back. “I can’t help with any of that.”

“N-No, of course not—”

“But I can give you a ride home.”

She closed her lips, then laughed suddenly, a short gasp of hysterical giggles that sounded as ridiculous as they felt. “Oh, well, okay.”

“And maybe—” Jason took a deep breath, stepped closer, so that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. “If you want, we could stop by Bobbie’s, and I could get my bike. I know it’s not really turning back time—”

“But maybe it’ll be close enough. Yeah, yeah, I want that. I want to go nowhere. Fast.”

December 12, 2024

This entry is part 10 of 11 in the Flash Fiction: Masquerade

Written in 58 minutes.


Outside the house, there was a sharp crack of thunder followed directly by a flash of lightning so bright that it must have struck very near them. Elizabeth flinched, but Jason remained still, sitting before the fire with his knees drawn up, his arms loosely wrapped around them. The light from the flames flickered, leaving half his face in shadows.

Elizabeth twisted her long hair into a damp rope, squeezing the excess water from the long strands, unsure what to do or to say about Jason’s startling revelation. Rather than answering questions, it had only created more and she wasn’t sure where to start.

Or if she even should continue to ask questions. Jason had agreed to escort her to Wymoor where this Mary Mae might be able to tell her more about the mysterious woman connected to Elizabeth’s childhood. She was terrified to believe that it had been her sister, but hope had taken root all the same. For who else would have a set of daggers if not a woman borne to her family?

“I was young when Valentin came to Nevoie,” Elizabeth said, finally. “Too young to know much about my heritage. When my mother sent me to the Quartermaine estate to train, I thought it was an adventure.” She smiled wistfully, looking into the flames, thinking of her bright, vivacious mother. “She likely thought there would be time to tell me what I needed to know.” She exhaled slowly. “Did you know from the start that it was him, or was it something you discovered later?”

Jason looked at her, his brow furrowed slightly. Had he expected another question? “Not right away,” he said finally. “Not until the burial.” He returned his gaze to the fire. “His nephew was the heir. My sister was his wife. They died together in a carriage accident. A tragedy. But that day, after they’d lowered my sister into the ground, after everyone had gone to the house, I watched him stand over the freshly dug dirt and smile.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “I don’t understand. You said your connection to the Quartermaines was a secret. But if Valentin knows—”

“He doesn’t. He thought he was alone.” Jason was quiet, then looked at her. “I was waiting until they were gone. No one knew I’d been there.”

More questions swirled, but Elizabeth could answer some of them. He was Alan’s son, yes, but not by his wife. A bastard who had remained on the fringes of the family. Close enough to care, but not to claim. “I’m sorry. For the loss of your sister.”

Jason offered a short, rough nod, little more of a jerking of his chin. “You’ll stay in Wymoor,” he decided. “While Mary Mae looks for the woman. I’ll find a way to make Valentin think your escape plan worked.”

“My—” Elizabeth tipped her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You were trying to run from me last night.” He looked at her again. “I only went after to you to find out why. If you’d asked me to put you on one of those ships, I would have. You could have gone to Thakrian and disappeared into the interior. I’ll create a false trail, tell Valentin that’s what you did. He’ll either have to let it go or go after you.”

“Won’t he be angry that I escaped?” she asked, chewing on her bottom lip. “You must have a reason why you’ve not killed him yet. Are you worried about retaliation?”

“Valentin won’t want to tip his hand yet. He doesn’t know what I know. And he’ll want to keep it that way.” Jason hesitated. “As for why he’s still alive, he’s a man with a great deal of power. He’s gathering his forces and capital to wage a war for the throne, but he hasn’t yet broken with Faison.”

“Faison.” Elizabeth looked away, closed her eyes. “I thought it was him for a long time. Sometimes I wonder if they did it together. My mother hated Faison. It’s one of the few names that I remember her speaking with real anger and hatred. Valentine knew that — he found me in the woods, and promised to take me to safety. It wasn’t until he had me locked in that house that I realized what he’d done. Or who he was. And it was too late by then.”

Jason studied her, his gaze so pointed that Elizabeth flushed. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. No. Just—I’ve wondered why Valentin waited so long. My sister has been gone for nearly ten years. If he was behind what happened at Nevoie, it was before he had the power of the Cassadine family. When did he move you to Shadwell?”

“When I turned eighteen. Eight years ago.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why is that important?”

“Eight years. When my sister died. He took the mantle of the Cassadines then. Why not double his power by forcing you into marriage then? Why put you in a village near the northern border. Why go to the trouble of a binding spell?” Jason shoved himself to his feet, and Elizabeth just watched him, mystified by the turn in the conversation.

“Perhaps he wasn’t ready—”

“But what is he waiting for? Why not—” Jason paused. “You say you thought it was Faison behind the attack. You didn’t initially see Valentin as a foe. Why?”

“Because the Cassadines had been a reluctant ally to my mother. She liked Valentin’s older brother, Stefan, I think. What happened to him?”

“Died of a sickness two years before my sister and Nikolas. Valentin wouldn’t have had the resources to carry out an attack such as the one you described. But he held you captive, so he must have been behind it.”

Elizabeth licked her lips, then climbed to her feet, the folds of the borrowed shirt falling to mid-thigh. “But perhaps it was not alone. Valentine was saving me. Why now? Why did he send for me now?”

“The king died,” Jason said. “He was married to Faison’s daughter since he reached his majority fifteen years ago. There were no children born to the marriage, but Faison is attempting to keep the power by asserting his daughter as the queen in her own right.”

“Is it possible they’ve been working together all these years?” Elizabeth folded her arms across her middle. “What if Valentin was content to let me rot in Shadwell if Faison could hold on to the throne? But if he’s faced with losing it—”

“Valentin sent me to fetch you, but told me nothing. And he must have suspected you’d never trust one of his men with the truth.”

Elizabeth’s throat tightened and she wrapped her arms more tightly around her torso. “Oh, what a terrible story we’ve created. All these people who might have died just so two evil men can hold on to power. Your sister, her husband, my mother, maybe my sister — all the others at Nevoie who were killed in the fires. Perhaps Nikolas’s poor uncle, and the king? How can we know anyone was safe around them?”

“We can’t. And that’s why I haven’t killed Valentin yet. I want to be sure that when he breathes his last, the evil he’s done won’t somehow spread.” Jason took two steps towards her, then hesitated. “You’ll be safe in Wymoor. It used to be Valentin’s home base, but the people there hate him more than anywhere else. And Mary Mae hates him most of all.”

“Mary Mae.” Elizabeth nodded. “You trust her.”

“With my life. You can trust her, too,” Jason assured her. He gestured to the bedroll sprawled across the floor in front of the fire. “But you should rest. When the storm breaks, we continue there. I don’t want to be out in the open any longer than necessary.”

The storm continued to pound the area with rain and winds throughout the night, but the next morning, the clouds rolled on their way, leaving nothing by mud and puddles in their wake.

Dry and a little worse for wear, Jason woke Elizabeth and they were back on the road — not traveling directly on it, but remaining in the trees, following another route that Jason said belonged to the same smugglers who had built the hidden cottage. Wymoor was a destination for such people, and most routes led there.

Jason had estimated that they were maybe three days from the city, but he’d calculated that when he’d planned to travel at night and by road. Taking the smuggler’s road meant they could only ride when there was light.

It was almost a week of exhausted traveling by the time they reached the outskirts of the town, and Jason stopped long enough for Elizabeth to put up her hood, hiding her face from all but the most interested. Wymoor may hate their Cassadines, but Jason would not risk any chance that word reach Valentin that he’d been traveling with a young brunette. Jason needed Valentin to accept the false trail he intended to lead.

The Hare and Hound was still where he’d left it, at the end of Berry Lane, quiet for the late morning. He directed Elizabeth to mews behind the pub, and dismounted, leaving their horses for one of the stable hands.

“We’ll go in the back,” he told Elizabeth, placing a hand near the small of her back to direct her forward. She nodded, following his lead as she had for the last week without argument.

The back entrance opened into Mary Mae’s private rooms, and Jason slid in the key he’d been given as a boy. Mary Mae had never wanted it back — had always told him that he’d have a home with her for as long as he needed it.

The room was not empty — it never was. Just after breakfast, Jason realized, which meant it was time for lessons. All of Mary Mae’s lost children learned their letters and numbers, and they were crowded around a table, slates in their hand, chattering and talking.

Mary Mae stood over them, beaming as she watched her brood work on their numbers, then her face lit up even more when she saw Jason stepping inside the door. “Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

She came forward to embrace him, only wincing slightly at the travel-worn clothes and the smell of a long time spent on a horse. “Well, it’s a good thing I always keep a room ready in hopes one of my chicks comes home to roost—oh, what do we have here?”

Elizabeth stepped in behind him, pushing her hood down, revealing the tangled curls that fell down her back. “Hello,” she said, a bit nervously, looking around the room, then at Mary Mae, before inching closer to Jason.

Jason opened his mouth to explain, but Mary Mae abandoned him and went to Elizabeth, reaching for her hands. “Hello, darling. Please tell me that my boy has brought me a bride. I’ve always hoped he’d have a family of his own.”

Jason winced, wanting to crawl beneath the nearby table. Elizabeth looked at Mary Mae with wide, bewildered eyes. “Mother Mary—”

Mary Mae looked at him, then sighed. She squeezed Elizabeth’s hands. “Well, a mother can hope. Let’s get you two cleaned up and then you can tell me everything.”