Dream a Little Dream

Chapter 19

Luke Spencer came home around 11 from a morning at the Haunted Star. He'd checked the liquor inventory, and the recent nights' takes. Then he'd answered e-mail and filled out government paperwork. Lucy would handle the night shift. He'd do a swing by Vagabond and Luke's before supper.

He went upstairs and was surprised to see Laura in the guest room, carefully rolling clothes into three open suitcases on the floor. She was humming “Infatuation” – their song ever since that long-ago night at Wyndham's Department Store.

“Hey, there,” he said. “What's this, Angel?”

“I'm going to get everything packed this afternoon, so we can have a relaxing evening at home, just the two of us,” Laura replied with a smile. “Lulu's staying at Mom's tonight. We can pick her up on our way to the airport in the morning.”

Luke looked slightly dumbfounded, and scratched his head.

Their vacation plans had included about a week in Port Charles for the Quartermaine party, and visiting family and friends. Then Luke, Laura and Lulu were going on a two-week vacation on Prince Edward Island, where they had rented a cottage on the shore. Luke wouldn't seek any adventure beyond deep-sea fishing with Lulu. Laura would swim, lounge on the beach and read nothing heavier than an Anne Rivers Siddons paperback, and bicycle into the nearby village to get fresh mussels or lobster for dinner. Her assistants at Deception had strict orders – no calling her unless it was an absolute emergency.

But after the drama of Saturday night at the Quartermaine party, and the nasty e-mail sent when Nikolas left with Emily for Greece yesterday, Luke thought Laura would want to skip the trip. He'd said nothing, waiting for her signal. Well, he got it, and it was a most unexpected one.

“This is a surprise, Angel,” he said slowly. “I wasn't sure you'd want to leave, even with Nikolas skipping town. I know that e-mail hurt you.”

“It did,” Laura said. “I hate the thought of Nikolas there. It was my prison for so long; I can't imagine anything good happening there, or anyone being happy. But, I have to remember that that's where Nikolas grew up. So it's different for him.”

“What made you decide to go tomorrow?”

Laura sat on the bed, a rolled-up bathing suit of Lulu's in her hands.

“I decided you and Alan and Stefan were right,” she said. “I have bent over backwards for Nikolas, but I can't do it anymore with this or I'll break. Especially after that ridiculous e-mail. 'Cruel treatment' and 'rejection of our twoo wuv,' indeed! Thank you, Carly, for that one. She hit the nail right on the head. As mean is this sounds, I'd love to have been a fly on the wall when she cracked Emily across the face. Alan was right in that we shouldn't be crying and wringing our hands, afraid of their reaction. They should be afraid of us, if anything. And Stefan made a lot of sense. We have to let Nikolas go, and stand on his own two feet in this. Maybe then, when he has to feel the consequences on his own, with no protection, he'll realize the seriousness of what he and Emily have done. But, either way, I've suffered enough. I've been looking forward to this vacation, and nothing is going to spoil it. Nikolas and Emily have done enough damage.”

Luke grinned. Good for Ol' Vlad, he thought. Nice to see them both coming around and removing their lips from the prince's over-kissed posterior.

“You are amazing, Darlin',” he said. “Did you remember where I put my lucky rod?”

Laura raised an eyebrow.

“You mean besides the one ...?” she asked with a wicked grin. Laughing, Luke grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom.

* * *

Maxie Jones sat under a massive oak tree on the Port Charles University campus, studying Nathaniel Hawthorne for her American Lit class.

Emily deserves a scarlet letter for what she did to Zander, she thought fiercely.

Just then, she saw Zander walking about 50 feet away. She waved. He waved back, but kept walking, his eyes down. Her heart broke for his pain.

Another example of what love is, she thought. Betrayal and heartbreak. No, thanks.

A shadow fell across her book.

“Hey, Maxie,” Diego Alcazar said.

“Hey, Diego,” she replied.

“Poor guy,” Diego said, nodding towards the retreating figure of Zander in the distance. “That must've been unbelievable. I hope he gets through it okay.”

Maxie looked away from Zander towards Diego.

“So do I,” she said. “But how does he trust someone else after this?”

Diego sat down next to her.

“I guess it just comes with time,” he said. “He's got friends who are women. He'll see that they're not all like Emily. Just like all guys aren't like Nikolas. Eventually, he'll have to take a leap of faith. Because that's basically what love is all about – faith.”

Maxie loved the way Diego said that. If only it were true. If only people could live up to that faith. Her father didn't. Her mother didn't. Emily didn't. Nikolas didn't. Her cousin Lucas' parents didn't. So many people didn't.

“What's on your agenda the rest of the day?” Diego asked.

“I've got my American Lit class in about a half-hour,” she said. “Then after that, nothing definite until dinner. TJ and I are going to Kelly's.”

“Oh,” Diego said, his plans for a friendly dinner out with Maxie dashed. He hoped to start building things slowly with her, and that her friendship would evolve into something more over time. But if TJ kept hanging around ...

An idea came into his head.

“Maxie, I was thinking of something,” he said. “How about I have a party at my place? There's the pool there, it'd be fun. I'll see if it's all right with my dad. Maybe in a couple weeks. We could have everyone over. It'd be a great chance for TJ to meet more people.”

Maxie brightened.

“What a great idea!” she said. “We should invite Zander, too, if he's up to it. Maybe it'll help him take his mind off things.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Diego laughed, happy over Maxie's enthusiasm. “I'll talk it over with my dad and let you know.”

* * *

Brenda and Jax stood at the top of a little hill on the property Jax had found online Saturday. They'd just signed the offer sheet, a generous one. The real estate agent was quite confident it would be accepted.

“Then, it'll become our home,” Jax said, putting his arm around Brenda. “And, by the time it's built, we may have someone else to share it with.”

Brenda hugged him.

“I can't believe this is actually starting to happen,” she said. “For so long, we seemed stuck in the same place, going from doctor to doctor and not getting answers. Every month, we held our breath waiting for something to happen. But now, I can actually see things unfolding in front of us. First we buy this land. Then we build our house. Then ...”

“Then, we have our children,” Jax said.

“Have you called an architect yet?”

“Yes, I have one from New York at the ready,” Jax said. “I'll fly her in the day we close. Once the deed is in our hands, I don't want to waste a minute. We've been waiting for this long enough.”

“Onward!” cried Brenda, raising a fist. “Into the future!”

* * *

Coleman led Scott Baldwin to the two-family house he owned in the Waterfront District. He was furious to see a motorbike parked on the front lawn, with old tire marks indicating it wasn't the first time.

“Damn!” he said. “They're ruining the place!”

“Don't worry, Coleman,” Scott said. “We're taking the first step today to setting things right.”

Coleman rang the bell for the upper apartment. The disabled woman who lived downstairs peeped from behind her lace curtains at them. Coleman winked back at her. She grinned, knowing the jig was up for those people upstairs. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep in months. She walked to the bedroom to call her husband with the good news.

A woman with long, permed blonde hair and poufy bangs answered the door.

“Mr. Coleman!” she exclaimed. “I didn't expect to see you today.”

“Wanda, this is my friend, Scott Baldwin,” Coleman said. Scott turned on his most affable expression, holding out his hand.

“Scott Baldwin, city councilman,” he said, shaking her hand. “May we come in?”

Wanda's pale face turned even whiter. But she knew there'd be trouble if she refused.

“Sure,” she said flatly. She led them up the stairs. Coleman clenched his jaw at seeing scratches on the stairway woodwork and dents in the walls. Wanda opened her apartment door.

Four teenaged boys and a teenaged girl were laying on the living room floor. Two of the boys were playing a video game on the TV. Country music blared. The carpet was irreparably stained. There were two dents in the walls. The place stank of people, old carpet stains and garbage.

Wanda turned off the music and turned to the teenagers. “I have to talk with Mr. Coleman and Mr. Baldwin, here, kids,” she said in a tight voice. “You all go outside.”

With a grunt, the teens turned off the video games and shuffled down the stairs.

Another woman, in a pink t-shirt and shorts, ambled out of the bedroom area, stretching and yawning. She had hair and a complexion like Wanda's, but was taller and heavier.

“This is my sister, Evangeline,” Wanda said to Scott. “She's been visiting for the week. She works nights over at the bus depot.”

“No, she hasn't been visiting,” Coleman said. “Game's over, Wanda. We know she and her kids have been living here.”

Evangeline, wide awake after hearing Coleman, walked into the living room.

“That's not true!” she said. “You got no proof of that.”

“Yes, we do,” Scott said. “We ran a credit check on you, Miss Parker. You used this house as your legal address for a bank account and the Wegman's Shopper's Club card you got last week. Only your sister and her children are allowed to live here, under the terms of her contract with the government and Mr. Coleman.”

“I don't see what the big deal is, giving my sister a place to crash for a bit while she gets herself together,” Wanda said belligerently.

“The big deal is, that I rented this place to just you and your kids,” Coleman said. “The rent I get paid is based on three people, not six. Your water use has gone through the roof in recent months, Wanda, and that's coming out of my pocket big time with the water bill I have to pay the city. That can't go on.”

“Not to mention, it's a violation of city fire codes,” Scott chimed in. “There's a maximum as to how many people can occupy an apartment. In a two-bedroom like this, it's two adults and two children. Mr. Coleman could have gotten in serious trouble if he let this continue.”

“So, what are you going to do, evict us?” Wanda demanded. “That'll take months, and we'll make sure you pay for it before the government moves us to the next place!”

Scott shook his head at Coleman, who was getting pretty angry.

“Ms. Andrews, you fail to realize a few things,” Scott said smoothly. “If you're evicted from here over this, you're also evicted from the Section 8 program. No more subsidized housing for you. And, if you can't provide a safe place for your children on your own, Family Services will get involved. That means foster care for your kids. Finally, you and your sister could be facing fraud charges. Local federal prosecutor John Durant doesn't take kindly to people freeloading and ripping off government services. He's been informed of this matter and is just waiting for the word from me to get a case going.”

Wanda looked from Scott to Coleman, feeling trapped.

“I don't want it to come to that, Wanda, that's why we came to talk, first,” Coleman said placatingly. “But your sister and her kids have got to go. Today. And stay gone. That's non-negotiable. That happens, you can stay and we'll start fresh. It's up to you.”

“Today?!” Evangeline shrieked. “Where are me and my kids gonna go today? You're gonna dump us out on the street? What kind of man are you?”

“You won't go on the street, Miss Parker,” Scott said. “I've made arrangements with the county. We can provide you with a one-bedroom hotel suite with a kitchen and a sleeper sofa downtown for a month, until either you can find something on your own, or get assistance from the government. I'll help you in any way I can in that regard, I promise you. But that deal is only good for today. You don't start packing when we're done talking, I'll be calling the police to have you removed and eviction proceedings will be launched today against your sister. The next call will be to Mr. Durant. Then the government will be involved, and I told you what that entails. It's your call, ladies.”

Wanda and Evangeline went into the kitchen to talk. A few minutes later, they walked out with sullen faces.

“Guess it's a deal,” Evangeline said.

“Good move,” Scott said. “A housing counselor will be here in a few minutes to help you get settled, and discuss your options in terms of government aid. I think Mr. Coleman and I are done here. Oh, wait, one more thing. I know you're not happy about this, Ms. Andrews. But don't even think about trying to get back at Mr. Coleman by damaging his place any more than you already have, or causing any other kind of trouble. You do that, Mr. Durant and I will personally see to it that you're thrown out of Section 8 and face penalties for the damage. Good day.”

Coleman and Scott left, Coleman giving the thumbs-up to the lady downstairs. She beamed. As they were walking to the car, they heard Wanda and Evangeline shrieking at each other.

“Try to do something good, and this is what you get,” Coleman said. “Boy, was ... someone ... right when they warned me not to do this.”

“Don't think that way, Coleman,” Scott said. “You got one bad apple. There are a lot of good people helped by this program. And I'll stand by you if there's any trouble.”

They shook hands.

“Thanks, Scott,” Coleman said. “I really appreciate it.”

* * *

The detectives of the Port Charles Police Department were in a meeting, led by commissioner Mac Scorpio. The subject was recent gang activity in the city.

“We're noticing a slow increase in the amount of gang-related graffiti and crime,” Mac said. “That has to be squashed. Now. We can't let it spread. Taggert here has done some research, and will give a breakdown of what we're facing. Taggert?”

It was a shrewd move by Mac to give Marcus this project. It was something important, so Taggert knew he still had a place in the department after his suspension. Also, it kept him off the street while he was in counseling.

Marcus fired up the PowerPoint presentation. Up on the screen was a map of the city.

“We're seeing the most action here,” he said, pointing to a neighborhood off downtown and on the fringes of the Asian Quarter. “It started as petty stuff – small drug deals, fights. But it's escalating. We've had two shootings in the last week – luckily, no fatalities. More prostitutes are being seen. And we had a bigger drug bust last month, so that means someone's trying to set up distribution in the city. When we put Corinthos and the Five Families out of business, we created a void that someone – or more than one someone – are trying to fill.”

“Gangs often have the backing of organized crime,” Detective Andy Capelli said. “Any leads on who may be behind this?”

“Not yet,” Marcus said. “We're not sure if it's just the gang network, or someone bigger. We're thinking gang right now – an organized crime family would have done things on a larger scale with better organization. But if the gangs get some successes, the mob's not far behind. That's why time is of the essence. We can't rest on our laurels. We squash it now, and stay vigilant, we can keep organized crime from getting a foothold in the city again.”

Linc Murphy spoke up.

“Are we coordinating with other departments or agencies on this?” he asked.

“John Durant has been briefed,” Marcus said. “And we've got the FBI in, too.”

Groans all around.

“What is it?” Mac snapped.

“The Feds?” Capelli said. “That means we've got to work with Marshall. After the way she nearly botched the Corinthos case – actually tried to seduce him to get him to talk, and nearly got herself killed and the operation blown – I don't trust her.”

Mac saw nodding heads all through the room.

“Be that as it may, we have to have federal cooperation on this,” he said. “And I expect all of you to cooperate with them. I'll talk with Durant and see if we can keep Marshall on the fringes. But she will be involved somehow, I'd bet. I don't want a turf war between us and the Feds. There's to be nothing that can hinder our efforts, so you all give them your full cooperation, even Marshall. That's an order. Clear?”

“Clear,” the detectives replied, albeit a bit sulkily.

* * *

Jeremy Logan looked over the plans for the mobile health clinic carefully. He'd brought a long list of questions, but many were answered by Stefan's detailed plans.

Courtney, in her white crepe dress, kept her expression placid and did not glance nervously at Stefan once, as tempting as it was. Jeremy would not see her composure ruffled at all, she vowed. She knew this was a make-or-break meeting. If he liked what he saw, they were still in the running to get a donation from him. If not, he could be back on a plane to Seattle that night without a backwards glance.

“I notice you're starting out fairly ambitiously,” Jeremy said. “Two mobile units. Why not one?”

“This is ambitious project,” Stefan replied. “We have a lot of people to serve, and a lot of ground to cover. Only one unit would hinder our efforts – we would risk being spread too thin and, thus, unable to effectively respond to the community's needs. If we don't start strong, and deliver good results, the project could be open to more criticism than it deserves. We want the city, and the donors, to see positive results right away. We can expand from there.”

Jeremy nodded.

“It's a good way to think,” he said. “You believe in this program, and you're coming out of the gate strong. What are your concerns on crime? These aren't the best neighborhoods.”

“I have been working with police commissioner Mac Scorpio on that,” he said. “He's assuring us police protection, and stepped-up patrols in the neighborhood while we're there. He's very positive on this program. After the mob was run out, he hopes projects like this will be a positive boost in neighborhoods where gangs could try and fill the void left behind.”

Jeremy looked over at Courtney.

“Your fundraising efforts, I take it they will continue?” he asked.

“That is up to Mr. Cassadine,” she said. “So far, he seems satisfied with my efforts. If I stay on, I intend to continue raising funds aggressively. And I plan to work with the hospital in lobbying the state and federal governments for additional funds.”

“I've been most satisfied with Miss Matthews' work,” Stefan said. “Bringing you in here, even just to look things over, was quite a coup. And she's networked her way into the pockets of donors I never thought would give. So, yes, she'll be staying on.”

Courtney barely repressed a fist-pump. Jeremy closed his notebook.

“I have to say, I like what I see here,” he said. “Between your planning and Miss Matthews' fundraising, it seems like this is a good investment. It's something my mother would have liked a great deal, with her nursing career and her prior vocation as a nun, ministering to the poor. She'd have been all over this like white on rice – she'd have probably challenged Amy Vining to a steel-cage match for the chance to be head nurse on it. So, I'm in. Five million to get things started. After that, we'll see. I'll draw up a check in the morning.”

“That's more than generous, Mr. Logan,” Stefan said. “Thank you very much. We'll do our best to live up to your expectations. We'll discuss the public announcement another time.”

Jeremy shook hands with Courtney and Stefan, then left.

Courtney peeped out the closed door to make sure he had really left, then turned to face Stefan, a grin on her face a mile wide. It matched his.

“I say this calls for a celebration, Courtney!” Stefan crowed. “Dinner, my treat!”

Courtney laughed.

“You're on!” she said. “But be warned, after the number Mr. Logan just tossed at us, I have expensive tastes tonight!”

* * *

John Durant sat at the bar at Luke's. Hutch served him a Saranac, and was wiping the nearby counter nonchalantly. Luke was also there, dropping in before leaving for his vacation.

Their voices were kept low, John often glancing up at the TV above the bar, pretending the watch CNN.

“What've you heard?” he asked Hutch, who, even though he was not connected with the government anymore, kept his ear to the street for them, as well as his own protection.

“It's two gangs,” Hutch said. “They're both trying to get connected with gangs out of New York. That means they want to go big time in terms of drugs. And those New York gangs have the backing of mob families.”

“So, what they're doing now is kind of like an audition,” Luke said. So far, they'd stayed away from his businesses. He wanted it kept that way. If the mob came back strong in the city, it put the Haunted Star in peril. “Port Chuckles is the new setting for 'American Criminal Idol.' Great.”

“Yep,” Hutch said. “They get something good going here, they're part of the New York gang. Then their drug operation will step up here, with a heaping helping of prostitution and protection rackets on the side. If they continue to succeed, the mob will come in and take over. The gangs will then work for the mob. They're so stupid. They think they'll be living large, part of this big operation. But if the mob takes over, all those gang people become nothing but cannon fodder in a turf war.”

John Durant sighed into his beer glass. The public thought organized crime was gone for good after Sonny Corinthos and the Five Families were brought down. They didn't realize the fight was ongoing to keep the city from being overrun again.

“Here we go again,” he said. “Mac's getting going on things, too. Taggert's coordinating the investigation on their end, putting the information the PCPD gets together. So far, it seems to be confined to between downtown and the Asian Quarter. If we can stop it before it spreads, we're in pretty good shape to send a message to gangs and organized crime that Port Charles isn't worth the trouble.”

“What about the Feds?” Luke asked. “Quite frankly, I don't have a lot of confidence in them. Especially that Marshall twit.”

“You're not the only one, Luke,” John said. “I talked with Mac after his meeting with the detectives today, and they were none too pleased, either. But this has to be a cooperative effort between the local police and the Feds. And that means, for now, Marshall's a part of it. I already warned the field supervisor if Marshall gets out of line by so much as a millimeter, I'm going over his head to D.C. After the way she nearly blew the Corinthos case, combined with the fact that I've got more pull at the national level after all the Five Families were sent away, the field supervisor knows I can make his life pretty miserable with one phone call. So I have to trust him right now to keep her in check, as much as I'd love to see her at some field office in Alaska right now.”

“Sounds like y'all got your work cut out for you,” Luke said. “And don't forget the WSB. If there's anything that even faintly smells of something outside our borders, Anna can get on it right away. You have my cell phone number. Laura will make me turn it off most of the time we're at Green Gables, but I'll check it at least twice a day. If there's any trouble near my businesses, I gotta know. And my capable assistant here will be keeping you apprised. So, gentleman, I take my leave. I'll be thinking of you as I tear into some fresh lobster.”

“See ya, Luke,” Hutch said.

“Have about a dozen of those sweet red things for me,” John said. “And give my love to Laura.”

* * *

“A bottle of your best Kristal,” Stefan said to the wine steward.

“Mmmm-hmmmm!” Courtney said. “I see you took me seriously.”

They grinned at each other like children across the table at the Floating Rib.

“I'd say bringing in a $5 million donation rates the good stuff,” Stefan said.

Courtney laughed.

“Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that figure!” she said. “And I had some wild dreams. I thought I was just doing a variation on the winning-the-lottery daydream when I envisioned $1 million.”

“Ditto,” Stefan said. “I've moved in some pretty select circles, but I have never seen that figure tossed about so nonchalantly for a simple donation. There's usually much more fanfare – a big cardboard check and lots of cameras.”

The wine steward came back, presenting Stefan with a bottle. He nodded approval, and the steward popped the cork, then partially filled a flute for Stefan to sample.

“Excellent,” he said. The steward refilled Stefan's glass, then poured one for Courtney. He quietly set the bottle in the ice bucket, then left. Stefan raised his glass.

“To the mobile health clinic!” he said. “Long may it prosper.”

“Hear, hear!” Courtney chortled, clinking her glass with Stefan's. They sipped.

“Amazing,” Courtney said of the champagne. “It's a long way from that cheap Asti stuff my mom would bring home for New Year's Eve – I called it 'Nasty Spumante.'”

Stefan laughed heartily.

“I can see why you work so hard to put your past behind you,” he said. “You were probably the kind of child who stared at the atlas, dreaming of faraway places.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I was that child, too,” he said.

“You're kidding!” Courtney said. “With all your family's money?”

“Remember, we were Cassadines,” he said. “My childhood was spent mostly on our island, with occasional trips to Russia and other key European cities. But we didn't venture out among the common folk. We stayed in family villas, or with allies of my father. I was confined to the grounds. We only ventured out to dine in fine restaurants with our own kind, or to go to private viewings at museums, or for private shopping trips, where my mother would have the entire store closed for us. I was tutored at home until I was 12, then sent to an English boarding school, which was just as confining as my life on the island. We were ten miles from the nearest village, and were never allowed to go there. My world opened up at university, but even then, I was watched. If I got too chummy with people outside our circle, I would get a letter from my mother admonishing me for 'neglecting my studies to mingle with the riff-raff,' and for having 'low tastes.' There was always the implied threat that I would be pulled out of school and brought home if I defied her. That was enough to keep me in line, then. I graduated and came home, ready to take my place in the family empire at the right hand of Stavros. Then Laura was brought to the island, was forced into a nightmare marriage with my brother, and had Nikolas. When Stavros was believed to be killed and Laura was banished from her son's life, Nikolas became my world. I was in charge of his education, and training to become the Cassadine prince. I could not leave him to Helena's tender mercies. It wasn't until my mother died that I was able to travel on my own terms. It was the most intoxicating, liberating time of my life. I did what I'm sure you dreamed of – just pointed to a place in the atlas and said, 'I'm going there next.'”

Courtney sighed delightedly.

“That must have been amazing,” she said.

“Why don't you do it?” Stefan asked. “You have plenty of money to do so, now.”

“True,” Courtney said. “And I've thought of taking a vacation this year. But I was putting it off until we had something definitive with the mobile health clinic. My work has to come first. If I flopped on that, all the trips in the world wouldn't have counted for anything.”

Stefan smiled.

“But you didn't flop,” he said. “You came through beautifully, Courtney. Tonight's success would not have happened without you. As I said to Mr. Logan, it wasn't just bringing him on board. It was setting up a network of donors that will help us take General Hospital to the next level. So I think you've earned some R&R. Where are you thinking of going?”

Courtney got a dreamy look in her eyes.

“I honestly don't know, Stefan,” she said. Just then, they were interrupted by the waiter, who took their dinner orders. Stefan ordered an appetizer of salmon souffle, with an entree of braised quail with grapes and quince puree. Courtney started with a salad of field greens and hearts of palm, and ordered roasted lobster with Gewürztraminer butter and ginger for her entree. She looked over at Stefan and grinned.

“I warned you,” she teased.

“After today, you could have ordered everything on the menu and I wouldn't have batted an eye,” Stefan replied. “Getting back to our discussion, what has you unsure of your travel plans?”

“Wanting it all,” she said. “Part of me thinks I've worked hard and deserve a couple of weeks on a tropical beach, doing nothing more strenuous than picking up a drink with a little paper umbrella in it. Then I think, Japanese spa. Or maybe Europe, where I'll just shop and eat and look at pretty things and places.”

“Judging by the way you talk about it, I take it you're traveling alone?”

“What, bring my mother?” Courtney hooted. “Most definitely not! Within two days, she'd try to score with a mark, blow it, get us tossed out of wherever we are – probably with a police escort – and ruin everything I've worked for. I'll stick with sending her to Club Med twice a year. She gets to play queen in her luxury suite, letting everyone know her wealthy philanthropist daughter does this for her loving mother. I suppose it is as ungrateful as it sounds. After all, she did stick around and raise me, which is more than can be said for my father. And what she did kept a roof over our heads and food in the fridge, and allowed me to go to college. But she can't understand my life here, what I've made for myself, and what I want. It's completely different from her life – find a mark, score as big as you can as quick as you can, get out, move on, and don't look back. She's done it so long, she can't operate any other way. It's why I won't let her come here. She thinks it's because the last good mark around here in her age bracket was Edward Quartermaine. I'm still trying to put Sonny behind me. I don't think everything I've built here could survive if Hurricane Jeannine blew into town.”

“I understand your goal is a respectable place in the community,” Stefan said. “Today's success, plus your future accomplishments in this project, go a long way towards securing that.”

“It's not enough,” she said. “It's going to take time, and more success than this, to wash the stain of Sonny off me, plus there was my poor start. I made myself an enemy of the most prominent, respected family in town. The Quartermaines are not known for forgiving and forgetting.”

“No, they're not,” Stefan said. “You're right to accept it. But you can still make a place for yourself without their approval, if you continue to do as well as you have recently.”

The first course arrived.

Just then, Skye Quartermaine walked in with some deans from Port Charles University. She frowned at seeing Stefan with Courtney. She knew Courtney was involved with the mobile health clinic fundraising, and didn't like her getting so chummy with Stefan. She'd seen how Courtney operates, and didn't trust her near someone like Stefan – rich, single and lonely. She walked over to the table.

“Stefan!” she said. “It's good to see you. Miss Matthews.”

Stefan stood up and kissed Skye on the cheek.

“Good evening, Miss Quartermaine,” Courtney said politely, smiling. She'd guessed why Skye had come over here.

“Is there something to celebrate?” Skye asked, noting the champagne bottle.

“I'd say there is,” Stefan said. “J.H. Logan was just at the hospital to see us. He pledged $5 million for the mobile health clinic.”

Skye's eyes widened.

“You're kidding!” she said. “That's amazing. I saw you with him at the party, Stefan. You work fast!”

“I can't take much credit for it,” Stefan said. “It was Miss Matthews' networking that brought the matter to Mr. Logan's attention months ago. She worked through his representative to sell him on the project. Mr. Logan came here to see things for himself.”

“Most impressive work,” she said to Courtney. “It looks like you've laid a solid foundation for the mobile health clinic. When that gets going, Stefan, we'll have to talk about fundraising for the Edward and Lila Quartermaine Family Health Center.”

“Tell whoever is in charge of that that they can call me for anything I can give them,” Courtney said.

Skye smiled, a genuine smile.

“Thank you, we'll do that,” she said.

“You're welcome,” Courtney replied. “And congratulations on your engagement to Professor Alcazar. I wish you every happiness.”

“Thank you. Now, I'll go back with my guests and let you two resume your celebration,” Skye said. “Sounds like you've earned it. Enjoy your evening!”

“You too, Skye,” Stefan said. “I'll talk to you soon.”

Stefan sat back down.

“You handled that well,” Stefan said. “I'm sure Skye was alarmed. Her brother warned me about you, and I'm sure he has mentioned it to her.”

Courtney rolled her eyes.

“I should have known,” she said. “Thank you for ignoring him.”

“I didn't ignore him,” Stefan said. “I kept an open mind to what he said. But I also kept an open mind in regards to you. And you didn't disappoint me.”

“I'm glad,” Courtney said. “You've had enough disappointment lately. That was the faith you had shaken ... the reason you tested me last week, asking me to the Quartermaine party. You'd found out about your nephew and Emily Quartermaine.”

“Good guess,” he said. “I tried to get them to come to their senses – if they wouldn't stop seeing each other, at least end things with Emily's boyfriend, of whom I am most fond. I told them that if things didn't within a week, I would reveal all to Zander and the Quartermaines. They failed to take me seriously – I arranged a meeting with Zander for the next day while at the party. Soon after ... you know the rest.”

“And you have to deal with the fallout,” she said.

“The consequences now fall on Nikolas,” Stefan said. “He has chosen to ignore them and take Emily to Greece for a vacation. So right now, it hasn't been bad. I've been glad to have happy distractions like today. My fear is what comes after they return. I don't think Nikolas will be welcoming me into his life with open arms.”

“Why? Because you're a walking 'I told you so?'” Courtney asked.

“That, yes,” he replied. “Also, there's the formidable Cassadine pride. He is the prince, and he sees what I did as an unpardonable interference in his life.”

“You did nothing wrong, Stefan,” Courtney said. “You were right to try and stop things from blowing up. If not for their sake, for everyone else around them, especially Zander Lewis. It's their fault for not seeing the light.”

Dinner arrived.

“My God,” Courtney said of the lobster after the first bite. “This is living! I could get used to this!”

“Keep doing what your doing, and celebrations like this will be more common,” Stefan said.

* * *

Bobbie Spencer decided to treat herself to dinner out after work. Her son, Lucas, was going to the movies with friends, so he wouldn't be home. And after a long day at work, she just didn't feel like cooking, then sitting around at home.

She headed down to Vagabond, owned by her brother Luke and run by her nephew Lucky. After John not noticing her at the Quartermaine party, she was up for some strawberry tiramisu.

Lucky was behind the bar when she walked in, wearing a sage green camisole and matching crocheted shrug, and khaki pants.

“Hi, there!” he said. “You missed Dad by maybe a half-hour.”

“That's okay,” Bobbie said. “I'm taking them all to the airport in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Lucky said, dramatically sighing and bowing to Bobbie. “You saved me from having to get up at the butt-crack of dawn.”

Bobbie laughed.

“Glad to do it, then,” she said.

“What'll you have?” he asked.

“A Manhattan.”

“Extra cherry?”

“Of course.”

Just then, Coleman appeared at Lucky's side, presenting Bobbie with her drink just the way she liked it.

“You know me so well, Coleman,” she said.

“Compliments of the gentleman down the bar,” Coleman said with a nod. Bobbie looked. There sat Jerry Jacks. Bobbie turned to Lucky and grinned wickedly.

“Have fun,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. Bobbie walked down and sat next to Jerry.

“Thanks!” she said. “How've you been since Saturday night's fireworks? Quite an introduction to the Port Charles social scene!”

Jerry laughed.

“I've been in young Mr. Cassadine's position a few times,” he said. “The most awkward one involved an engaged contessa and a coat closet. I barely escaped with my hide after her fiance opened the door, looking for the lighter he'd left in his jacket pocket.”

“My goodness! What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do,” Jerry said. “Zip up my pants and run like hell.”

“What happened to the young lady?”

“A very quick wedding, under Papa's orders,” he said. “The groom was more than happy to go along after the sizable increase in the dowry. They now have three children and are regarded as one of the happiest marriages in their set.”

“A good ending,” Bobbie said. “Somehow, I don't see that for Emily or Nikolas. They've got a rough road ahead of them, and they don't even realize it. Money can't block out the world.”

“No, it can't,” Jerry said dryly. “Much as I try.”

“So what have you been doing the last few days?” Bobbie asked, wanting to change the subject back to something light and fun.

“Well, I've been meeting with my brother a lot,” he said. “We're going to be making some changes. Jax doesn't want to travel as much anymore, with him and Brenda looking to adopt. So I'll be doing a lot of it. But I'll be working out of here as the home base. I'll probably end up out of town for a week or two a month.”

“How do you like the changes?”

“Oh, they're fine,” Jerry said. “It'll be nice to be near Jax and Brenda, especially since I'll be an uncle. But I'll still be able to get out and travel.”

“Where will you live?” she asked.

“Jax has hooked me up with a nice suite at the Lady Jane,” he said. “That'll do for now. I'll wait until I get more acclimated to Port Charles before I decide on a place of my own. Although I'm really liking this waterfront neighborhood. Those lofts are what I really like. I was talking with Stefan Cassadine about his the other night.”

“They really are beautiful,” Bobbie said. “If I didn't have my brownstone, I'd consider getting one myself. But where I am now is good – the apartments give me rental income, and it's easy for my son to get to school. Also, I like having a back yard, a place where I can putter in the garden.”

“You like to garden?” Jerry asked. “Mum does. She's got an amazing one back home in Australia. Sadly, I was born with a brown thumb.”

“Jax has told me about your mother's garden,” Bobbie said. “Showed me pictures, too. My eyes just about popped out of my head, it's so gorgeous. What a wonderful place to grow up.”

The conversation continued. Bobbie was sparkling under Jerry's attention, and he was enjoying her company, too. Neither noticed when John Durant walked in to ask for an outside table. He saw Bobbie laughing and flirting with Jerry and, with a sigh, went outside.

He opened his briefcase and pretended to be absorbed in a report. But really, he was back in Florida all those years ago.

John was raised plain white trash, but he was better off than Bobbie or Luke in that he had parents who loved and supported him. They pinned all their hopes and dreams on their only son. John's two older sisters were good girls, but hopelessly uninspired by school. Their goal was simply to get the best husband they could out of high school, and settle down and have children. And so they did. John had all the ambition of the family. Fiercely driven, he was consistently at the top of his class, even when he fell head-over-heels for Barbara Jean Spencer.

His father had found out about John's relationship with Bobbie, who was working as a prostitute for her Aunt Ruby. Keeping it from Mrs. Durant, Mr. Durant confronted John about it one night, on the pretense of taking his son out for a father-son night.

“I can't have it, Son,” he said. “I won't have you bringing a whore into your mother's house. We've worked too hard to get you where you are now – with your brains, you can go to college and make something of yourself – for you to throw it all away on some redheaded hussy.”

John rebelled, refusing to give up Bobbie. He continued to see her in secret, but then, suddenly, three months later she broke up with him.

“I can't do this, John,” she said in a hard voice. “I have to focus on getting out of here, and I can't do it tied to anyone. And you have to get out of here, too.”

What John didn't know was that two days before, she'd been informed that she was pregnant. She knew that John would do the right thing – marry her and ruin both their lives, and the life of their child. He'd drop out of school, get a job at the bottom, and never climb much higher. So she went away for a while – Ruby sent her to a friend to have the baby and place it for adoption. After Caroline was born, Bobbie returned to work for Ruby. She was more determined than ever to escape that life, and, with Ruby's blessing, saved every penny she could. Soon, she was able to leave, and ended up in Port Charles, where she became a nurse at General Hospital.

John got over his heartbreak by throwing himself into his studies, and taking on any school activity he could. He was the best debater the school had ever seen, editor of the school paper and yearbook, and president of student council. All the work paid off when he got a full scholarship to a state school about two hours away.

Like Bobbie, he was determined to put as much distance between himself and his past as he could. He worked two jobs every summer – usually clerking in a law office and waiting tables. The money went towards the outer trappings of betterment – good clothes, nice haircuts, and dental work. He didn't work during the school year, instead keeping a perfect grade-point average while immersing himself in activities. He was a networker decades before it became a verb. It paid off when he got into law school, and later went to work as a federal prosecutor. He rose in the ranks, and came to Port Charles determined to cement his position as the toughest prosecutor in the land against organized crime. He'd taken care of his parents, too, moving them out of their poor neighborhood and into a nice brick ranch near Jacksonville.

He was blown away when he found Bobbie here, and was staggered to find out about Caroline, who now went by Carly and was married to the wealthy and prominent Quartermaine heir, AJ. He was even a grandfather. His confrontation with Bobbie was bitter, but eventually he forgave her. He knew she'd done the right thing.

They had maintained a friendship since then, but John's feelings on her were conflicted. Every time he saw that flame of red hair, the old love and longing tugged at him, combined with the new respect and admiration. But she was also of the past he'd long kept at bay.

Seeing her so vivacious and flirtatious with Jerry made John jealous, he admitted that. But what could he do? He wasn't ready to go down that road with her again. Best to let it lie, he thought.

The waitress brought out his Barbancour. He downed it with a gulp and asked for another.