Dream a Little Dream

Chapter 10

Jason got quite the lesson from Lorenzo Alcazar on Saturday. He'd missed a lot. Three presidential elections and an impeachment. The dot-com boom and bust. The Red Sox finally winning the World Series.

“What's this 9/11 thing people keep mentioning?” Jason asked. Lorenzo told him. He went on the Internet and Jason saw the horrifying images of the planes plowing into the Twin Towers, the smoke, the fire, the doomed people on the upper floors jumping to their deaths. He saw the wreckage at the Pentagon, and the crater blasted into a Pennsylvania field. He read about the heroics of those aboard the highjacked Flight 93, desperately fighting to save themselves and others. He heard recordings of police and fire department communications, and the heartbreaking phone messages left by those hopelessly trapped. Then he heard the earth-shaking rumble, and saw the Towers collapse. He read the figures of the dead and injured. He saw pictures and video of rescuers frantically trying to pick through the rubble, hoping against hope to find someone alive. He read and watched coverage of the funerals.

He sat there silent, tears running down his cheeks, when Lorenzo finished.

“My God,” was all Jason could say.

“It was a terrifying time,” Lorenzo said softly. “We had no idea what was going to happen next, if there was more to come.”

They talked a little more, then Lorenzo taught him about the Internet. He set Jason up with an e-mail account, and put his and Skye's e-mail addresses in Jason's address book to show him how it was done. He warned Jason about spam and viruses, and how to protect his privacy online.

“Thanks, Lorenzo,” Jason said. “Today's been quite an eye-opener. It's a different world than the one I left.”

Lorenzo nodded.

“Some ways worse, some ways better,” he said. “Such is man's progress.”

* * *

Florence Campbell sat among the ruins of her Saturday night supper. Gia got up, and began quietly clearing away the dishes.

“You're not going to go after him?” Florence asked, with tears in her voice.

“No, Mom,” Gia said quietly, finishing putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “I've had all of Marcus that I can stomach for one night. Maybe enough to last a lifetime. I'll be right back.” Gia took her cell phone from her purse and went into the living room.

Florence didn't need to be told that Gia was calling her beau, Linc Murphy, to warn him of her brother's infuriated reaction to Gia telling him about the relationship. Marcus Taggert, a detective at the Port Charles Police Department, had always been overprotective to the point of domineering with Gia, several years his junior. And as Linc had been his protege at the Police Department, working his way up from beat cop to detective alongside Taggert, Marcus felt the sting of betrayal. He lashed out with vicious words about Linc, and did not spare Gia.

“And I thought you were stupid with Cassadine!” he raged. “You're acting like a cheap tramp, dropping your skirt for a pretty boy! Well, that's it for him. He's done.”

That was a spark to gunpowder. Gia slapped Marcus, something that stunned him into silence.

“You shut up and you stay shut up!” she thundered back at him. “You don't know a damn thing! What do you know about love? You've shut it out your whole life! Are you jealous that I'm happy, that Linc's happy? Well, I don't give a damn about your reasons! And if you make any trouble for Linc, I'll go to work and have Mac Scorpio knock your butt down to meter maid before you know what's hit you!”

Marcus looked at her, his face blanched.

“I can't believe you'd go along with this, Mother,” he said to Florence.

“Gia is a grown woman, and is free to see whomever she chooses,” Florence replied firmly, choking back any regrets she had over Gia's choice to try and calm down her son. “And no matter how angry you are, you can see the good in Linc. He makes your sister happy. That should be enough.”

“Yeah, so happy they had to keep it a secret!”

“This is why!” Gia yelled. “I wanted Linc and I to have a chance before you went ballistic, just like I knew you would no matter when we told you.”

“A likely excuse,” he sneered. “Well, I'm done here. Gia, you stay out of this. This is between me and Linc.”

“The hell it is!” Gia shouted. “This is between you and me! You think you can run my life, well, you can't. And that's what's driving you crazy right now, that I'm not going to knuckle under to you!”

Marcus turned and left without another word. Florence struggled to hold back the tears as she feared she was watching her family get ripped apart.

Gia returned from the living room. She kissed Florence's cheek.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Mom,” she said. “But I can't let Marcus keep bullying me like this. It has to stop, and stop now. Whatever issues he has are his. He doesn't get to poison everyone around him. And there's no way in hell I'm going to let him hurt Linc's career.”

Florence held out a trembling hand to her daughter.

“I know you didn't want this, Gia,” she said. “But that doesn't make it any easier.”

* * *

“How are the party plans going, Monica?” Alan Quartermaine asked his wife. Monica turned from her seat at her little desk in their bedroom suite.

“So far, perfectly,” she said. “Cook is overseeing the hiring of the wait staff and isn't being unduly snarky about it.”

“That's a good sign,” Alan said, laughing. He was on the bed, reading Walden.

“And everyone has RSVP'd,” Monica continued. “They're all coming. Laura called me from New York and she's so excited. I'll save this next part as a surprise for Jason – Jax is bringing Brenda home for the party.”

“Wonderful!” Alan said. “It'll be great to see her ourselves. I've missed her.”

“Jax also asked if he could bring his brother, Jerry,” Monica said. “Jerry runs a lot of the overseas stuff for Jacks Enterprises. He's never been to Port Charles before, and Jax said he wants Jerry to meet all his friends here.”

“That sounds fine,” Alan said. “Should be a great crowd. And I'm glad Brenda is coming home. Emily's always looked up to her. Maybe Brenda can help Emily throttle back a bit with her school stress. She's still at the library studying, I believe.”

* * *

Stefan Cassadine slowly slunk through the shadowy path to Wyndemere in the fading daylight. A sailing friend had dropped him off, and would pick him up in an hour. That way, he would arrive unannounced.

He had tried to give Nikolas the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was a one-time fling. Maybe it wasn't serious. But then Alexis came to him on Friday afternoon.

“There are some irregularities in company funds,” she said. “It seems like someone is using company money for personal use. Flowers – mostly roses – and fancy chocolates. Black satin king-sized bed sheets. A silk duvet cover and shams to match. Some sort of purple light bulb. Also some pretty things from Victoria's Secret. And there was just a jewelry purchase the other day – a diamond necklace. It's more than $100,000 – just the necklace! Whoever's doing it is quite the Romeo. Obviously, it's not Nikolas. I'd go see him tonight, but Kristina has a slight ear infection, so I have to get home to her.”

Stefan seized his chance.

“I'll take care of it for you,” he said. “I have no plans the next few nights, and I've been meaning to visit. Don't mention it to him if you talk to him, he'd just end up brooding and worrying.”

Alexis agreed readily, not wanting to make Nikolas any more brooding and worried than he has been. With a kiss for her brother, she went home to Cameron and Kristina.

Stefan didn't like deceiving Alexis, but he was hoping to avoid a crisis that would only bring her pain.

He got to the house undetected. He decided to go in through the secret passageway to avoid any servants. Nikolas' office was dark and empty. He listened at the door, heard nothing, and made his way into the living room. It was dark, except for one lamp. He quietly crept upstairs.

Treacly coos and sighs reached Stefan's ears before he was halfway up the stairs. His heart sank, and he realized he'd been hoping against hope that he would find nothing. He felt slightly sick, and stopped at the head of the stairs while the wave of nausea passed. He took a deep breath and approached the door to Nikolas suite. He flung it open.

Emily shrieked and covered herself with a black satin sheet. Nikolas stared blankly for a moment. Stefan noticed the pink silk peignoir set in a heap on the floor. Likely part of Nikolas' shopping spree with Cassadine International money.

“Uncle!” he cried. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Hello, Nikolas, Emily,” he said. “I was hoping not to find this. It is a cruel disappointment.”

Emily cowered, trembling. He looked at her mockingly.

“Get a hold of yourself, Emily,” he said. “Does everything have to be a melodrama with you two? I'm not going to get violent. But you two, to borrow the parlance of some television host, are going to 'get real.'”

Nikolas tried to act non-chalantly as he put on his red velvet bathrobe.

“What business is this of your's, Uncle?” he demanded.

“You made it Cassadine International business,” Stefan retorted, flinging the copy of the financial statement on the bed, silently noting the embroidered and tassled black silk bed coverings. “And I still hold a great deal of stock in the company. When the company head dips into company money to finance his personal ... affairs ... it becomes my business. Did you learn nothing from Tyco?”

Nikolas paled as he scanned the papers. He'd made a colassal mistake, he realized. He'd thought he was ordering those things from his private bank account, but, in the rush of the business day, had used the company account instead. He tried to tough it out.

“So I made a mistake,” he said cooly. “I'll pay the company back, with interest.”

“That you shall,” Stefan said. “But your accounting mistake has made your other mistake,” he shot a dark glare at Emily, “my business, too.”

Emily pulled herself together.

“You seemed to know it was me before you even came up here,” she said. “How did you know unless you were spying on us long before this? I haven't been with Nikolas in days.”

Stefan looked at her condescendingly.

“I haven't been spying, you two have been careless,” he said. “Leaving your identification card here. Rose petals in odd places. And that ... sparkling glop you wear on your mouth all over Nikolas, like you're marking your territory or something.”

Emily's cheeks flamed.

“So you can still blush,” Stefan commented sarcastically. “I'd thought you'd lost all shame.”

“Do not speak to her like that, Uncle!” Nikolas shouted. “Outside of the business, this is no concern of your's! We are in love, and have been for a long time.”

Stefan drew himself up to full height.

“Your choices, and your precious 'love,' bring sorrow to myself, and people I care about,” he said. “Your mother, Alexis, Cameron, Lucky, Emily's family, and let's not forget Zander, as much as you'd like to. He has done nothing but love you, Emily, and be a friend to you, Nikolas. And yet you cruelly betray him. I am involved now, and I am not going to walk away as if nothing has happened. You two have been playing a selfish game for long enough. I'm going to set some new rules.”

Nikolas tilted his chin defiantly. Emily trembled again.

“First of all is making restitution to the company with interest,” he said. “You shall do so quietly, right before accounting is done next month. You will do nothing until then, to keep Alexis from noticing. If anyone asks, it will look like a simple paperwork misunderstanding.”

“And what else?” Nikolas said coldly as Emily clung to him.

“The next job is Emily's,” Stefan said sternly, looking directly into Emily's teary eyes. “Since you cannot tear yourself away from my nephew, you are to end things with Zander within a week. You shall do so as gently as possible, not involving Nikolas. Not because Nikolas needs protecting, but because Zander does not deserve such pain as knowing that not only did his girlfriend betray him, but his friend, too. After you break up with Zander, you will keep your relationship with Nikolas a secret for three months, an appropriate period, before you reveal anything to anyone else. And you shall never tell anyone the truth about the beginnings of your relationship, lest it get back to Zander.”

“A week?! I can't possibly do this in a week!” Emily cried.

“It took you less time to jump into my nephew's bed, I'm sure” Stefan replied caustically. “I suggest you start wracking that Stanford brain to come up with something.”

“What if we don't like your rules?” Nikolas asked.

“The choice to follow them or not is your's, of course,” Stefan said with a disdainful shrug. “But you should know what will happen if you don't. If you do not end your relationship with Zander within a week, Emily, I shall go to him and tell him all I know. Your family, too.”

Emily gasped.

“And as for you, Nikolas, as much as it will grieve me, I shall be forced to take up the matter of your improprieties with the Cassadine board of directors. Of course, then, it's only a matter of time before it reaches the press. Imagine the field day they would have with the seamy doings of the Cassadine prince and his Jezebel princess-wannabe.”

“You would do that?” Nikolas said. “You would hurt us, Alexis, my mother?”

“No, Nikolas,” Stefan said. “You two will have done all of those things. You have no one to blame but yourselves. Now, I shall take my leave and let you two figure out how you are going to escape the consequences of your actions. Let me assure you now that you cannot, so you might as well start planning Emily's touching breakup with Zander and let us all put this ugly incident behind us. Enjoy your evening.”

Stefan bowed mockingly as he left the room and closed the door. Nikolas fired a Waterford crystal vase at the closed door, sending the long-stemmed pink roses flying. He went to the window and watched Stefan walk down to the boat landing, and get on a sailboat. From that distance, he could not see Stefan's tears. He watched the boat until it was back at the Port Charles Yacht Club. Subduing his fury – he wouldn't admit to any shame – he went back to the bed, and held Emily, who was wailing her despair.

“Hush, my princess,” he whispered. “Don't worry. Everything shall be all right.”

Emily turned her tear-stained face up to Nikolas'.

“B-b-b-but your uncle! You heard him! He could ruin everything!”

“Stefan was just blowing smoke,” Nikolas said. “He would never do anything to hurt me. He has always been my protector. It's just not in him to do what he threatened. We'll leave him alone, and let things die down. We will handle things in our own time. I am the Cassadine prince, remember. No one tells me what to do.”

“Are...are you sure?” Emily asked.

“Of course,” he said soothingly. “Stefan devoted much of his adult life to raising me, teaching me, to make me better than Helena or Stavros. He could not lose his life's work no more than he could cut off his own right arm. That's how I know he will never carry out his threats. It was just Cassadine bluster. It will blow over.”

“Oh, Nikolas, my prince!” Emily sighed. “You make everything better.”

Nikolas turned on the purple light by the bed and drew Emily into his arms. Stefan was soon forgotten.

* * *

Jason came down to breakfast to find Carly, Michael and Morgan in the dining room. AJ had left for his AA meeting. Everyone else had already eaten and gone about their day. Alan and Monica were at the hospital.

“Good morning,” Carly smiled at Jason. He tried to put Friday night out of her mind, but all he could see was her luminous flesh in the moonlight.

“Hi,” he said with a slow smile. He looked at the boys. That was easier.

“Hey, Uncle Jason!” Michael said. He was wearing a Iroquois Youth Lacrosse jersey. A stick and ball lay beside his seat. Jason picked it up.

“So you're a midfielder,” he said.

“Yeah,” Michael said, munching on a piece of toast. “Sometimes I play long-stick defense, too. I'm going over to Chris Beebe's house today. A bunch of us are going to practice. We're going to a day camp at West Genesee this week. Wow! Mike Messere's gonna coach us! Chris said he heard the Syracuse coach is gonna be there, too. His name's John Desko. Maybe some SU players will show up!”

“Messere's a Hall of Famer,” Jason said. “You'll be learning from the best. How many state titles has he won now?”

“Fourteen,” Michael said. “Just won another one this year.”

Carly smiled mildly.

“He's been completely batty ever since we signed him up for this camp,” she said to Jason. “Better get used to it. This guy eats, breathes and sleeps lacrosse. His dad takes him to pro games in Rochester.”

“You were good, too, Uncle Jason,” Michael said. “I saw all your trophies. I asked Grandma about it once, but it made her cry, so I didn't ask anymore.”

Carly looked at Jason awkwardly. Jason smiled to let her know it was all right. It was good to have proof that he was missed.

“I was okay at it,” Jason said. “I loved to play. There's nothing like cradling the ball and running for the goal, nothing between you and the net but the goalie.”

Michael nodded.

“I also like blocking people – POW!” he said.

Jason laughed. “Yeah, that's fun, too,” he said. Then he turned to Carly.

“Camillus is a bit far for a day camp,” he commented.

“Yeah, the bus leaves at 6:30 in the morning,” she said with a grimace. “And they don't get back until around 6 at night. Basically, it's dinner and straight to bed.”

“They don't have an overnight camp?” Jason asked.

“Not for kids Michael's age,” Carly said. “A lot of them aren't ready to be that far from home for that long.”

“But next year, I get to do sleepaway camp!” Michael crowed. “I can't wait!”

“We'll see,” Carly said, her face tight. Jason wondered about it, but said nothing.

“Where's AJ?” he asked.

“He's at an AA meeting,” Carly said. “Then he and his sponsor go out to brunch.”

Jason was surprised by Carly's casual mention of it in front of Michael.

“Done, Mom!” Michael said, holding up an empty plate. “Can I go now?”

“You go up and make your bed, first,” she said. “And after you sort your laundry for Alice, then you can go. And no leaving it in piles on the floor this time. You put it neatly in the baskets and set them by the closet for her.”

Michael shot upstairs.

“He's got chores,” Jason commented.

“Yeah, that was one of AJ's rules,” she said. “He didn't want the kids growing up lazy or entitled like he says he was. I was in my glory at first, having servants to do stuff for me. Coming from the trailer park, it was quite a kick. But I didn't grow up with it. I had to take care of myself. And AJ's right. The boys need to know to respect their stuff, and how to take care of themselves. We don't want to start them on a bad path. We started when Michael was around three, making him put away his toys every night. Later on, he had to put away the laundry Alice brought up to his room. He'll do more as he gets older. And if he doesn't do his chores, he loses priveleges, like going out with his friends or not being able to play his video games. That's always been enough to get him back in line. But if he continued to disobey, we'd take away the next lacrosse season. AJ's really good about keeping firm, and explaining causes and consequences in a way Michael can understand. He's gotten an allowance since he was six. We made him put half in the piggy bank, so he could buy Christmas gifts and such, and also get into the habit of saving. What's remaining, he has to set aside a quarter of that for charity. The rest is his. It's not much, just enough really to buy ice cream or pizza if he's out with friends, or if he goes to the movies. We'll get him his own bank account for his allowance when he turns 12. Edward drew up a fair trust fund for both the boys – money can be withdrawn for college costs, and a small spending stipend, only, until they turn 23. If they finish college, they can begin drawing on the interest or have post-graduate costs paid, until they're 30, when they can start accessing the principle.”

Jason nodded approvingly.

“It's worked great so far,” he said of their parenting. “He's really a great kid. I was kind of surprised at how casual you were about ... AJ and AA.”

Carly looked thoughtful.

“I wanted to keep it from them,” she said. “And I did, until last year. But AJ and Alan said Michael has to know about it sometime, since he has a genetic bend towards addiction himself. We're letting him learn about things slowly, and get used to it. He knows the basics of what alcoholism is, and that his father has the disease. We told him that AA is kind of a secret club for people with the disease to help each other stay away from alcohol. We explained that the membership was private, and that he wasn't talk about it outside of the family, because that could hurt other people. We're learning from Michael, and hopefully that'll help us when the time comes to teach Morgan about it.”

Morgan, bored with the adult talk, began pounding on the highchair with his spoon, sending Cheerios flying. Jason knelt down to pick them up.

“Thanks!” she said. “Guess I better get this guy upstairs and cleaned up. See you later.”

“See you,” Jason replied. He ate his breakfast in silence, reading the Sunday New York Times.. He heard the front door open, and AJ greeting Alice. Jason stepped out into the hallway.

“Got a minute?” Jason asked.

“Sure,” AJ said, coming into the dining room.

“We haven't had any time alone since Friday night,” Jason said, as AJ poured himself a glass of sparkling water.

“Emily.”

“Yep,” Jason said. “She came home really late last night. I heard her door slam, and looked at the clock. It was after 3. She was crying. I didn't know whether to go to her or not. I haven't seen her this morning.”

AJ frowned.

“She was up before me,” he said, surprise in his voice. “I came down the stairs to leave for my meeting and she was out the door with her backpack. She said she had stacks of studying to do, and needed to get to the med school library as soon as it opened. She looked terrible. She only had three or four hours of sleep at the most, then. I thought her eyes were red from just being tired. But now, with what you've told me, I guess it was the crying. She and Zander seemed okay the other night, and he was having dinner with his father last night, and going out to the Haunted Star afterwards, so I don't think it was a fight.”

Jason shook his head. “Have Mom and Dad said anything?”

“Not lately,” AJ said. “Between everything going on at work, and the excitement of your coming home, I think they haven't really noticed. Dad said something about it a few days before you came home, but she insisted she was fine and just busy with school, and promised that she'd skip the second summer term and rest.”

“Should we talk to them?”

“I don't know, Jase,” AJ said. “She seems so touchy lately. Do you think Mom and Dad would handle things okay? I don't want to make things worse by bringing them in.”

Jason sat thinking for a minute.

“I'm home more often,” he said. “I'll try and feel her out to see what's going on. Of course, trying to catch a quiet moment in this house the week before a Quartermaine party is going to be a challenge.”

“You can do it, Jason,” AJ said. “I think she'll be eager to open up to you. Let me know how it goes, unless she takes you into her confidence.”

“I will,” Jason promised. No matter what he felt about AJ, that came behind helping Emily.