Dream a Little Dream

Chapter 14

Sunshine played through the lace curtains in Luke and Laura's bedroom. They lay in the bed together, laughing in the afterglow.

“So, Angel, if I promise another round of this can we skip the dog-and-pony show at Casa Quartermaine?” he asked with a leer, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her laugh again. He was rewarded with her laugh, which always sounded like sparkling champagne to him.

“Oh, Luke,” Laura said. “As nice as it would be, we can't. This is a big night for all of them, celebrating Jason's return. Remember how we felt when Lucky came home? We had our son back. Nothing else mattered.”

“There are a lot of things about that time I'd rather forget,” Luke said. “He hated us, thanks to the late, unlamented Dragon Lady. And she was inches from killing you while I was tied up, helpless. If it wasn't for Popsicle Boy's one moment of humanity...”

He shuddered.

“But we survived,” Laura said, stroking his face. “And we got Lucky back. Just like Alan and Monica have Jason back. It's a night to be happy.”

“I'd be happier here, Darlin'” Luke said. “Taking their money at the Haunted Star is one thing. Having to make nice talk while waiting for the inevitable Quartermaine party disaster is another. Remember the time Carly and AJ had fought, and she dressed like trailer trash to piss him off? I thought ol' Eddie was going to tumble into the grave for sure.”

Luke laughed long and hard at that memory. That was when he had begun to accept Carly as a Spencer, after a long estrangement over what she'd done to Bobbie and her marriage to Tony. That stunt – the teased hair, the skintight micro-mini dress, the loud makeup, the gum-snapping crassness – was something Bobbie would have pulled in her glory days, and still might.

Laura laughed, too.

“And the time Michael snuck into the kitchen and ate a whole tray of fois gras canapes?” she giggled. “I thought they'd never get that mess out of the carpet. Amanda Barrington's dress was ruined. Oh, my God, Lila's face! And Edward's!”

The both went into a spasm of laughter.

“Yeah, I guess we have to go,” Luke said, with a mock sigh of resignation. “It'll give me something to tweak the Qs about for the next year if they get too cocky at my gaming tables. This bed is going to be hard to leave, though.”

“It sure is,” Laura twinkled at him, then pulled him in for a kiss.

* * *

“Lulu!” Lesley Webber called. “Are you ready? The other kids will be here soon.”

“Comin', Gran!” came a voice from the guest bedroom in Lesley's home in a new development a few miles from Laura and Luke's home. It was a single-story, three-bedroom home, done in a New England cottage style. Lesley was sold on the modern floor plan, open and adaptable as she aged. One bedroom was set aside as Lulu's, for she often stayed several days with her grandmother while in town. Lesley had settled in happily, resuming her medical career and supervising the interns at General Hospital.

Rick Webber was a part of her distant past. After she'd been freed from Helena, she discovered he'd remarried and moved to Chicago. After the legal untangling of re-establishing her identity, she and Rick divorced quietly and he re-married his new wife. Lesley didn't miss him. So much time had passed, so much had happened, that she wasn't the same woman Helena had snatched. While she hadn't dated much, she enjoyed a busy social life as part of General Hospital.

Tonight, she'd offered to take care of many of the children who were attending the Quartermaine party. She loved being around Lulu and the other young people, and they responded in kind. Serena Baldwin, Dillon Quartermaine, Georgie and Maxie Jones, Lucas Jones, Brooke Lynn Ashton, Diego Alcazar and Tommy Hardy would be coming. Dillon would be bringing movies, Brooke Lynn her guitar, and Lulu would likely lead them into several games of poker. Lesley had bought plenty of soda, chips and salsa, and also had placed an advance order for pizza. She'd cleared out her living room, leaving plenty of space for sleeping bags.

Lulu bounded out of the bedroom. She had her mother's golden hair and brilliant, sweet smile. But Luke's mirth sparkled in her blue eyes to add a spark of mischief. She wore bootcut blue jeans, and a gray hooded zip-front sweatshirt with the FDNY logo on it over a white tank top.

Lesley looked at her, then at the close cuffs of her sleeves.

“Okay,” Lesley said. “Hike 'em up.”

“Gran!” Lulu protested, but did as she was bid. Nothing was there. Lesley checked the pockets. Ditto.

“Just want to make sure you're not learning your father's lessons too well,” Lesley said.

“Gran, cards up the sleeves is for street games with suckers, not for friends!” Lulu said, parroting Luke's words.

Lesley rolled her eyes. Lulu was so her daddy's girl.

“Come on and help me put the soda in the fridge,” she said.

* * *

In their private penthouse suite at the Lady Jane Plaza – once the Port Charles hotel and renamed for his mother when Jasper Jacks bought the building from Edward Quartermaine several years ago – Jax and Brenda were lounging around before getting ready for the party at the Quartermaine estate. Brenda was reading a parenting magazine and dreaming. Jax was on the computer.

“Brenda, look at this!” Jax called excitedly. She came over and looked over his shoulder, and saw he was looking at a real estate website. The page was for a 50-acre lot in the country, about 10 miles from Port Charles. There was a large pond and a brook on the property, a combination of pastures and woods. It had once been part of a huge farm, but the farmer died and the estate sold it to a developer.

“Wow,” Brenda breathed. “Look at those rolling hills! And that pond! And the view!”

“It's perfect for us!” Jax crowed. He told Brenda his vision of a large country estate. Cedar shakes stained in soft gray with creamy white trim. Large pillars supporting a large covered front porch with lots of room for seating and a porch swing. A massive living area with an open family room and kitchen at the back, with several pairs of French doors opening onto a terraced patio, with lots of little cozy corners, a gazebo, walls and plantings. A huge swimming pool. Each would have their own office area, and a drawing room for Jax to entertain the guys on poker nights. A library stuffed with books. A master suite with his-and-hers bathrooms and closets, and a private walled patio with a Jacuzzi tub. A nursery would be adjacent. A rec room with pinball machines, pool tables, several wide-screen TVs and a built-in bar. There's also be a guest house, for when his family, her sister Julia, or their friends from around the world came to visit. Nearby, there'd be a horse barn, with winding trails for walking or riding.

Brenda sighed with delight.

“It'd be an amazing place to raise our child, or children,” Jax said softly. They'd met with the adoption agents in New York and Port Charles on the list Keesha had given them. All had assured the Jacks that it would be no problem to adopt the older child they sought. They would all work with the state to find the right child, and assure their privacy. Now, they just had to choose which agent to represent them.

Brenda hugged him from behind.

“Get in touch with the agent right now,” she urged. Jax made the call, and set up a showing for the next day.

“Now, I guess we have to get ready for the party,” he said.

“There's plenty of time,” Brenda objected. “Jerry's not meeting us downstairs for another three hours.”

“Not if you throw in a shower for two,” he said with a grin.

“I like the way you think,” Brenda replied, already removing her top.

After the shower, Brenda stood before the mirror wrapped in a fluffy towel, combing out her wet hair with a wide-toothed comb. Jax sauntered up behind her and gently removed the towel. It dropped to the floor as his hands roamed and caressed. She reached up and stroked his hair. Several minutes later, she turned around and kissed him. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Brenda never ceased to be left breathless by Jax's slow, teasing ways. His kisses, from her lips to her neck, downward to her breasts, then with a stop at her belly button, had her toes curling with unchecked desire. He kept moving down from her belly button, and she was on the ride of her life. He took her to the edge several times, but each time held back, until she pulled away, grabbed him and rolled over on him. It was her turn to tease and torment, and she did, over every inch of his golden skin. She watched his face closely, and, when she saw he was at the breaking point, climbed on him.

A long, passionate time later, they spooned together under the crisp white sheets.

“I believe I've found a new turn-on for you – real estate,” Jax said. Brenda laughed.

“It's what it stands for,” she said, stroking his forearm. “Our future.”

“It's going to be amazing,” he said. “Everything we dreamed.”

“Everything?” Brenda asked. She'd had a hard time letting go of the nagging fear that their inability to conceive meant something was lost for Jax. “We'd dreamed of children of our own...”

“And that we will have,” Jax said firmly. “Yeah, it's different in the details from our dream. But it's the same dream, just a different path of getting there. Our children will be just that – ours, no matter how we have them. I remember a friend of mine in Australia. He and his wife couldn't have children of their own, so they adopted. They said that they looked at their infertility as God's way of telling them to adopt, that they were needed for that. And, looking back, they wouldn't have it any other way. It was the right path for them. As it is for us.”

Brenda's last, lingering doubts vanished like a puff of smoke.

“I guess this makes me a selfish person,” she said. “But I'm kind of glad not to have to deal with stretch marks and all that other pregnancy and childbirth stuff. And diapers. Does that sound terrible?”

Jax shook his head.

“Not at all,” he said. “It sounds like just what you always do – look on the bright side. And there's nothing but the bright side with what we're doing.”

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” she asked.

“I believe you shrieked it about five times a few minutes ago,” Jax said. Brenda whacked him with the neckroll pillow.

* * *

Gia came home from the liquor store, which she'd picked up calling “the packy” from her time at Harvard. She'd bought three bottles of pinot noir for tonight, and some champagne for mimosas with brunch. Sam and Elizabeth would be coming over for a sleepover while Karen and Robin were at the Quartermaine party. They would come over for breakfast the next morning.

She set the wine and the glasses out on the counter, then got out plates for the pizza they would be ordering. The guest room was ready for the girls. “I didn't go to law school and work this hard to sleep on the floor,” she joked.

The doorbell rang. Sam was there, with a weathered leather knapsack slung over one shoulder. Gia showed her upstairs. Sam liked the townhouse better than she thought she would – lots of windows and pretty décor. Gia had painted each room a different color – after all her years of dorm rooms and apartments, she was sick of off-white walls. The guest room where Sam and Elizabeth would sleep was painted in a dusky lavender. The comforter on the queen-sized bed was a lavender and cream plaid, with smaller stripes of deeper purple running through it, and the sheets were a creamy white edged in crocheted lace. She hung duppioni silk panels in a slightly deeper shade than the walls at the window, tied with purple cording, and hung pale lavender sheers behind them. The bed and dresser were painted white.

She'd painted the main bathroom a soft pink, and accented it with pale green towels and a cabbage-rose print in pink, yellow, cream and green for the shower curtain. The medicine cabinet was edged in gilt framing.

Gia's bedroom was painted robin's-egg blue. The furniture was Mission style, in a deep brown finish. She found a modern print of blue, white, tan, black, brown and white for her bedding. Her sheets were tan. The curtains were chocolate brown. Her master bath was painted chocolate brown, with accents of the blue and cream.

With two large windows in the living area, there was enough natural light for Gia to paint the L-shaped living and dining space a deep cobalt blue. The dining room furniture was Mission. She accented it with silver-framed prints and a simple chandelier in silver. The window panels were also in silver duppioni silk. A tall computer armoire was in the L-corner, where Gia worked from home occasionally. The living room held another armoire-style entertainment center, with bookcases on both sides holding mostly law books. A large sectional sofa in tan, a rocking chair that had been her grandmother's, and a round glass-topped coffee table completed the room.

The kitchen was a sunny yellow, with standard white cabinetry and brushed nickel knobs and pulls. Gia's dishes were Italian majolica, white enamel backgrounds with elaborate prints using cobalt, yellow, red and green.

“You've really made this your home, Gia,” Sam said. “I usually think of condos as dull, sterile places. But this is definitely not dull or sterile. It's you.”

“Thanks,” Gia said. “I love it here. I wasn't ready to take on a house yet and all the work that goes with it – mowing the lawn, clearing the driveway in the winter, etcetera.”

“Besides, now maybe you'll have someone to go house-hunting with,” Sam said with a grin.

“If he and Marcus don't kill each other first,” Gia said.

“Anything new on that? If it's not too private,” Sam said.

“It's okay, that's what friends are for,” Gia replied. “Linc served his two-day suspension and is back at work. Marcus goes back Monday. Mac Scorpio laid down the law, and they're not going to be working together until 'this matter' is resolved. Nice to have my love life reduced to 'this matter.' Mom told me Marcus has to have counseling – it was either that or possibly face dismissal. She was humiliated, saw it as a sign of her failure or something. But Marcus is an adult, and he has to deal with his issues. Hopefully, whoever is counseling him has a black belt. But as far as Linc and I go, it's good. Maybe better than ever with it all out in the open. Mom's been pretty good about it. She met Linc for coffee the other day and at the end of it said that as long as he was good to me – as if he could be anything else – she had no objections to us. I guess whatever he said to her reassured her a lot.”

“I'm so glad, Gia,” Sam said warmly. “And Marcus may come around sooner than you think. Maybe this was what he needed to open his eyes, and counseling will help.”

Gia rolled her eyes.

“Marcus has got barriers from here to the top of Mount Everest,” she said. “He's got a lot to work through. It was just him and Mom for a long time after his father died when he was four, and then when my dad died, he took on a lot of responsibility in helping Mom raise me. He and my dad didn't get along at first, Marcus felt like he was being replaced in Mom's heart or something, but eventually Dad won him over. He was devastated when Dad died. Another brick in the wall, so to speak.”

“What time is Elizabeth due?”

“Any time now,” Gia said. “You look like you have something on your mind, Sam.”

“It's about Elizabeth,” Sam said. “I'm wondering if I should tell her something.”

“Something about Lucky,” Gia guessed.

“Yeah, Lucky,” Sam said, looking over the top of her balloon wine glass. “He was out jogging in that park near Elizabeth's place Sunday night –”

Gia's eyes bugged. “Oh, my God. And?!”

“And ... he saw her leaving with Ric Lansing,” Sam said. “He said he was okay with it, that it was good that she was moving on, because he couldn't give her what she deserved, which is the world, he said. And I think he really meant it.”

Gia let out a long breath of relief.

“Tell her that,” she said. “I think she really needs to hear it. I'm worried that she might have doubts after the excitement of her first date with Ric wore off. She and Lucky have been dancing around each other for years and putting off their lives, waiting to see if somehow, something that was smashed into a million pieces by Psychogranny – aka Helena Cassadine – could be put back together. I hope this means they both can move on.”

The doorbell pealed. Elizabeth was there, carrying an overnight bag and a large cosmetics case. She'd brought a pedicure kit, and ten shades of nail polish. After coming down from dropping her bag upstairs, Gia handed her a glass of wine and called for the pizza.

* * *

“I wonder if Luke has started a betting pool on what the Quartermaine party disaster will be this time,” Cameron Lewis said as he was trimming his beard at the sink. Alexis, stepping out of the large, glass-tiled shower stall, grinned.

“If he has, my money is on a Carly-AJ fight,” she said. “Haven't had one of those in a few years.”

Cameron laughed. “Michael's probably locked in his room, so no chance of a repeat performance for him,” he said. “Poor Zander. What a family he's in for.”

Cameron, Alexis and their daughter Kristina lived in a large Victorian home near Port Charles University, where both were occasional guest lecturers. The house had a small tower on one side. It was a cozy reading corner in the living room, and part of Kristina's room on the second floor. It was cozily furnished for charm and comfort. Alexis had brought nothing into the home – any Cassadine pieces she had she gave to Nikolas. She wanted nothing of Mikkos or Helena to taint her new life. They'd recently remodeled the kitchen after Alexis caught the cooking bug on their trip to Paris last year, where she took a class at the Cordon Bleu, the famed cooking school where Julia Child learned her craft.

“What time is the Ida due?” he asked.

“In about an hour,” Alexis said. “I gave Kristina her supper before coming up here, and she's in her room.”

Alexis closed the toilet seat and sat on it, applying lotion to her freshly-shaved legs. She took off the towel to put lotion everywhere else. Cameron grinned.

“Would you like me to put some on your back?” he asked.

“Please,” she said with a smile. He took her hand and led her to the bed, where she lay face down.

Cameron started with her shoulders, slowly massaging the lotion in. He moved down her back, just brushing the sides of her breasts. He took his time, going down to her thighs and back up again. Alexis gasped.

“I don't think I need it there,” she whispered. “But, God, don't stop.”

Cameron only stopped to take off his towel and turn Alexis over. She pulled him down on her.

* * *

Stefan Cassadine sat in his robe, checking his e-mail at the large desk in his loft. There was one from Courtney Matthews – a short note saying she had heard from J.H. Logan, and he would be open for a meeting early next week. She wondered if he would be at the party tonight, and wished Stefan a good time. “Tell me all about the disaster, whatever it is this time,” she said.

Stefan tried to laugh, but couldn't. His heart was too heavy. He hadn't heard from Nikolas all this week. Alexis had said nothing about Zander when they went to lunch on Friday, so he guessed that Emily had not broken up with him. And he'd seen Zander at a jewelry store in the Waterfront District on Thursday. He looked in the window, and Zander was absorbed in the rows of diamond rings. If he showed up tonight with Emily, Stefan would have to see Zander the next day and tell him all he knew about Emily and Nikolas. The madness had to stop no matter how much he dreaded seeing the heartbreak in Zander's eyes.. If it didn't stop, who knows how long Emily would string Zander along? Maybe she'd accept his proposal, even marry him, all the while cuckolding him with Nikolas. Stefan thought he'd been freed from Cassadine sturm und drang when Helena and Stavros had died.

“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in,” he groaned.

* * *

Elizabeth, Sam and Gia were noshing on pizza and on their second glass of wine. After dinner would be movies – light romantic comedies – and pedicures. Elizabeth had already short-sheeted Gia's bed, while she was supposed to be upstairs changing out of her hospital scrubs.

“Party starts soon,” Gia commented. “Wonder what the disaster will be this time?”

“Disaster?” Sam asked, as Elizabeth and Gia cracked up laughing.

“It's like this,” Elizabeth said. “Every time the Quartermaines throw a party at their home, something dreadful happens. Nothing like a dead body or something, but a party-killer that totally embarrasses the family.”

“Like the time the waiter got drunk and started telling the guests about how he'd heard Alan and Monica in their bedroom having very loud sex five minutes before the guest showed up,” Gia said.

“Or the time Michael – AJ and Carly's oldest son – snuck down to the kitchen and scarfed down an entire tray of fois gras canapes,” Elizabeth chimed in. “He walked into the living room to look for Carly ... and bazooka-barfed right in the middle of the party. I'm talking projectile vomiting. It went clear to the sofa and splattered Amanda Barrington!”

“Or ... or the time Carly and AJ got into a wicked huge fight right there in front of everyone,” Gia gasped. “Mom thought they were going to start pulling hair!”

“Oh, God, and the time they got in a fight before the party!” Elizabeth said, rocking with laughter. “Carly doesn't come from money – she'd been raised pretty much in a trailer park. I guess AJ zinged her about it or something, because she marched upstairs right before the guests arrived. She came back down after everyone got there looking straight outta Beau's Trailer Court and Bait and Tackle. Hair jacked to Jesus, makeup put on with a trowel, bright fuchsia nail polish, black leather minidress barely covering her butt, top cut to the top of her rib cage. Smacking gum and talking trash. The whole family nearly died right there.”

Sam was rolling on the floor. The proper Quartermaines behaving like that?!

“They just can't do anything but dysfunctional family gatherings,” Elizabeth said. “Look at Thanksgiving. You'd think hearth, home and turkey. Something always goes wrong. They're either held up by burglars, or someone – usually AJ or Ned – says something to piss off their cook so he refuses to serve them dinner, or they have a food fight right at the table, like the time Skye surprised the family by bringing her mother – Alan's old flame Rae Cummings, who Monica hates – to dinner. The ending's always the same – they end up ordering pizza.”

The girls munched on their own slices. When they were full, Gia put the dishes in the dishwasher and put the rest of the pizza in the fridge for her dinner the next night. Elizabeth pulled out the pedicure kit, and the nail polish. Gia chose a pale pink, and Elizabeth put it on. Gia put a sparkling lavender on Elizabeth's toes. Sam chose a garnet red that just matched the dress she bought while shopping with Robin and Anna. She told about the shopping trip, and the bargains they'd found. Then she told about her so-close dream of a home for her and Danny.

“We haven't had a home since my mom died,” Sam said. “A few more months, and I'll be ready. It seems so close, I'm almost scared it won't happen.”

“It will, Sam,” Elizabeth said, patting her hand. “And I can help with painting, if you like, and selecting art. Gia, here, would be more than happy to help you spend your money.”

“And when you're ready to buy, come to me for the lawyerly stuff,” Gia said.

“Thanks, guys,” Sam said. “It doesn't seem as scary now, with friends that'll help me.”

“So, Elizabeth, when's the next hot date with Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome?” Gia asked.

“I met him for coffee and cake over at Steven's mom's place on my day off this week,” Elizabeth said. “We're going to see 'Citizen Kane' at the theater at the university next Friday night.”

“Sam has something she needs to tell you,” Gia jumped in. Sam colored a little. She was not used to talking over such personal things. But she told Elizabeth, simply and truthfully, what Lucky had told her, adding what Lucky had said about them always being friends, and how that was the heart of their “permanent lock.”

Elizabeth looked down at her drying toes for a long moment. But she didn't feel tears, or grief. She felt like she was at the funeral for someone who had died a long time ago, but the body was just found. The first rush of grief was long over. This was just the final ritual. Then, peace.

“I'm sorry, Elizabeth,” Sam said. “Are you okay?”

Elizabeth looked up and smiled.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “I guess I've always been waiting for a signal, something that would tell me we were meant to be, or to move on. You gave that to me tonight, Sam. Thank you.”

“Yes, thanks, Sam,” Gia said, then turned to Elizabeth. “Now go out there and get yourself some action!”

“I think I can, now,” Elizabeth said.

“Amen and hallelujah!” Gia exulted, offering up her glass for a toast. The three girls clinked their glasses together.

* * *

Alan and Monica hurried down the front stairs, where Ned and Justus stood waiting. Jason, Emily, Carly and AJ were still upstairs. Skye would arrive with Lorenzo Alcazar. A blaze of bouquets of flowers in orange were on every table in the hall.

Monica wore a sleeveless, knee-length sheath in petal-pink crepe. Pink pearl studs surrounded by diamonds – an anniversary gift from Alan – glowed and sparkled against her ears.

Alan was the only one of the men in a tie, wearing the classic navy blue blazer, khaki pants, white shirt and red tie striped with navy and thin border stripes of yellow. Ned wore khaki linen pants, a black blazer, and a light sage green knit silk v-neck top. Justus had on brown pants and a matching blazer, and a striped shirt in light blue and brown.

Jason came down the stairs in his pinstriped suit.

“Whoa!” Ned said. “Christophe did great by you, Jason!”

Jason grinned.

“You look wonderful, sweetheart,” Monica said, her voice quavering a bit. Jason kissed her cheek.

“Hang in there, Mom,” Jason said. “We still have to greet the guests. Don't run your makeup.”

Monica playfully smacked his cheek. She looked up to see Emily floating down in a simple white strapless dress, with a full skirt to just below her knee.

This is what she'll look like when she comes down the stairs on her wedding day, Alan thought, feeling his throat tighten. How can I ever give her away, even to someone as good as Zander?

AJ and Carly came down a few minutes later. The family noted, relieved, that they were pleasantly smiling and chatting with each other. Please, God, let it last, Monica prayed. AJ wore khaki pants and a navy blazer, like Alan, but his fitted shirt with wide stripes of blue was unbuttoned at the collar and untucked.

Jason gazed at Carly, in a one-shouldered knee-length dress in lavender with a little lavender beading at the shoulder. Dangly amethyst and pearl earring swung from her ears, and she was wearing shimmery lavender sandals.

“Where's Michael, safely locked up for the night?” Justus asked hopefully. “Just in case, I gave his picture to the wait staff to keep an eye out for him.” Carly made a face.

“We set up a settee in the hallway so Leticia can watch his door,” AJ said with a sigh. They'd never live that down. Michael would be hearing about that when he was 50, the poor kid.

Skye and Lorenzo walked in. Skye was stunning in a sapphire-blue halter dress, with diamond hoop earrings. Lorenzo was in a charcoal linen blazer and slacks, with a sapphire silk shirt underneath. He looked at Alan, who nodded slightly.

“You all look wonderful,” Monica gushed. “I am so proud of our family. What a special night.” She looked at Jason, her heart bursting with joy.

“I think I hear our first guests arriving,” Alan said, as a car pulled up.