Dream a Little Dream

Chapter 21

Zander Lewis slowly unlocked his apartment door. He'd been dreading coming back, but knew he had to do it.

He'd spent the past week at his father's house, recovering from the horrific discovery of Emily's betrayal with Nikolas at the Quartermaine party and the drunken bender he went on that night. He also got through a week of classes, keeping his head down and not talking to anyone after figuring out that word of what happened had gotten around. But after Sunday brunch with his father, Alexis and Kristina, he packed and left to come back home.

Now he had to go back into the apartment where there was so much of Emily there. This was where they spent their alone time. They'd cooked meals together, studied together, talked over things big and small there. They'd made love on the bed ... and elsewhere. They hadn't been that spontaneous in a long time, thanks to Emily's lies about a heavy school schedule making her tired. How many times had she just gone through the motions, or, worse, pretended he was Nikolas?

But he had to get this over with. Zander knew the first thing he would do is box up anything that was associated with Emily. He'd picked up a few liquor boxes at Vagabond for the job, courtesy of Coleman. He opened the door and looked around.

It was hot and stuffy in there, so he turned on the air conditioners in the living room and bedroom. Zander didn't dare sit down, because that would lead to him doing nothing but thinking. So he set to work. He boxed up Emily's personal things – her toothbrush, shampoo, perfume and spare clothes she'd kept there for when she stayed over. He'd have his dad give it to Alan. Then he took down every picture he had of the two of them, and added to that box every picture of her in his photo albums. He went around the apartment, picking up little odds and ends – the sand dollar they'd found on a trip to the New England shore, the pretty ceramic vase she bought for him on a Quartermaine family trip to Italy, the funny hula girl magnet they'd seen once and laughed over together, the lopsided scarf she'd knitted for him when Lila taught her how to knit, the throw pillows she'd gotten for his couch, the cushion she'd gotten for the window seat where she liked to sit. He noticed, for the first time, the window gave a perfect view of Spoon Island, where Wyndemere was. Zander went to his closet, and took out all the clothes she'd given him – sweaters, shirts, ties, a fine three-piece suit. Those would go to charity, along with the mementos.

Zander worked furiously for several hours boxing up everything. He didn't stop to examine each item, because if he did, he'd be a sobbing mass of goo. When he was done, he marked the box for Alan and the ones for charity, then duct-taped them all shut and set them by the door. The unmarked box of photos would go in the trash.

He felt a little better after getting it done. He went to the refrigerator, and emptied out the spoiled food from the week before. He took the trash bag, and the box of photos, down to the dumpster. Hearing the thud of the box in the dumpster was like hearing a nail being hammered into a coffin.

Zander went back upstairs and took a soda out of the fridge. He looked around, wondering what else he could do. He could still feel Emily there. He decided to take a little nap and forget it for a while.

The minute his head hit the pillow, he knew he'd made a mistake. Emily's scent was on the pillow, and a long brown hair was on the one next to it. He gently picked up the hair, took it to the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet. He stripped the sheets off the bed and re-made the bed with clean sheets, giving them, the comforter and the pillows a good spray of Febreeze.

He lay back on the bed after the Febreeze had dried, trying not to think of Emily and failing. Eight days ago, he'd been so happy. He remembered her white dress at the party, and how he'd seen that as a happy omen for times to come. What a stupid fool I was, he thought. I should have known I'd end up alone.

Just then, there was a knock on his door. He wondered for a moment who it could be – he'd asked his dad to let him be alone tonight. He knew it wasn't Emily, after hearing her prince had whisked her off to Greece. She was probably reveling in getting rid of me, Zander thought.

Another knock, this one louder. With a sigh, he got up and went to the door.

Gia, Elizabeth, Karen, Lucky, Robin and a girl Zander recognized as Sam McCall stood in the doorway. Gia had two pizza boxes balanced on her arm.

“Did you really think we were going to leave you alone tonight?” Gia asked with a grin.

Zander was stunned. He wasn't sure what would happen to these friendships. After all, they were Emily's friends first. He stared for a moment.

“Come on in,” he said dazedly.

Gia set the pizza boxes on the counter. Lucky put some soda in the fridge.

“I didn't expect you guys tonight,” Zander said. “Maybe never ...”

“Get out of here,” Robin said. “You're our friend, no matter what.”

Tears sprang to Zander's eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “It really means a lot.”

Karen, Gia, Elizabeth and Robin hugged him. Lucky patted him on the shoulder.

“You know Sam, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Zander said. “Good to see you,” he said to Sam.

“You too, Zander,” Sam said. “I hope you don't mind my coming, seeing as we really don't know each other yet ...”

“No,” Zander said. “It's good.”

Karen opened the pizza boxes and went to the cupboard for plates. Robin handed out cans of soda. They sat in the living room, eating and talking.

“So, you okay with being back here?” Lucky asked.

“I don't know,” Zander said. “I boxed everything up. Threw out all the photos of ... her. I'll have my dad give her stuff to Alan. The rest, I'll just dump in a Goodwill box.”

“A good start,” Elizabeth said. “But it doesn't sound like it's enough.”

“It's not,” Zander said. “Everywhere I look, I see Emily. She helped me fix up this place, arrange the furniture. I keep expecting her to come out of the bedroom and sit down with us.”

“Maybe you need to make some more changes,” Gia ventured.

“Like what?” Zander said.

“Change things all around here,” Gia said. “Put everything in a different place. For starters, move the sofa to the corner there ...”

“I get it!” Sam said. “If it all looks different, there won't be anything of her here anymore.”

“Bingo!” Gia said.

“I like it,” Zander said with a slow smile.

For the next few hours, they re-arranged everything in the apartment. As Gia suggested, the couch was angled in the corner. The desk went against another wall. The chair was moved to where the couch was. The small dinette table was moved closer to the kitchen.

While Gia and Elizabeth were directing Lucky and Zander in furniture-moving, Sam, Karen and Robin tackled the kitchen. Then, hesitatingly, Gia and Elizabeth headed to the bedroom. They directed Lucky and Zander to move the bed to another wall, so it faced the door, and move the dresser into a corner opposite it. Elizabeth re-arranged the artwork on the walls.

When they were done, Zander and Lucky were sweating. Zander looked around slowly.

“It feels like a different place,” he said, smiling. “My place. Thanks, guys. This is just what I needed.”

“We'll go now, so you can get some sleep,” Robin said. “And God knows we wore Lucky out, too! We'll see you Tuesday for Nurses' Ball practice. Seven o'clock, at the Lady Jane Plaza ballroom.”

They all went to the door.

“Thanks again,” Zander said. “Not just for doing all this, but for showing up in the first place.”

Gia kissed his cheek.

“Don't ever doubt us again,” she said.

“I won't.”

After they left, Zander sat on the couch and watched TV for a while. Then he undressed and went to bed. Surprisingly, he slept well and didn't dream of Emily for the first time since the party.

* * *

The next night, Marcus Taggert ate his dinner on the couch, watching “SportsCenter.”

It had been a long day. He'd had an early session with Cameron, who asked Marcus to tell about his childhood – where he'd lived, what he did, what had happened. Marcus was instantly on the defensive. While in many respects his childhood had been better than most people's, there were old wounds left by his father's death and the death of his stepfather, Gia's dad. But Cameron said to keep it simple – he didn't have to dwell on things that were painful, just give him the basics and focus on other memories.

That made Marcus more comfortable. He told of his Bed-Stuy neighborhood, the games he'd played with the neighborhood kids, how Lois Cerullo could beat anyone in marbles, the corner market that always had his favorite ice cream treat – a chocolate éclair, Sunday morning church services and their soul-stirring music, the Sunday suppers of roast something with mashed potatoes and gravy, beating up a young Sonny Corinthos after Sonny had demanded protection money from another boy in school, the annual trip to Manhattan to see the Radio City Christmas Show, sitting on the front stoop with his mom and Gia on summer evenings, the time he and some friends got caught carving a ... detailed ... snowwoman in one of the piles left by a snowplow, the neighborhood cops falling down laughing over it while the kids' mothers were furious, trips to Coney Island, summertime “beach parties” on rooftops where they set up an inflatable pool and danced to “Off the Wall” and “Thriller.”

Cameron said next to nothing during Marcus' storytelling, except to break up laughing over the snowwoman incident and Marcus' description of her gravity-defying features.

After the session, Marcus went to work. He'd been worried after his suspension that he'd be stuck shuffling papers. But the research Mac had him doing on gang activity was important. He wished he was in the field, but knew that what he was doing now could make a big difference. He knew Mac was counting on him, and that drove his efforts. There was one interaction with Linc that day – Linc and Capelli had gotten the call on a fatal shooting in the area where gang activity was concentrated. Mac joined them as Capelli and Linc gave their report. It was thorough – Linc had found a vagrant who was able to give a description of the getaway car, and Capelli got some good descriptions of the perps from some older ladies who had been sitting on the front porch.

Marcus was grudgingly impressed with Linc's work, and the fact that he left what had happened between them out of headquarters. He hated admitting that.

Another good thing about this gig – unless there was an emergency, he had nights and weekends free. He'd gone to see his mother Saturday night; Gia had quietly ceded Saturday night suppers with Florence to him. She'd go for Sunday supper. Tonight, however, was free. He checked the guide on his TV – nothing good on, not even a ballgame.

He put his dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen. Then he took put on some shorts. But the quiet was too much. Even though he had focused on happier memories today with Cameron, the hard ones were knocking on his soul's door all day. Alone in his apartment, they were making their presence more known. He didn't like it. So he picked up his keys, walked out and went for a run.

* * *

It was a quiet Wednesday morning at the Quartermaine house. AJ had been leaving early for work every morning. Jason ate a hurried breakfast to get to his rescue squad classes, which started at 8 a.m. Carly ate breakfast with the boys in the kitchen. After her outburst on Saturday night, Monica had ordered Carly to stay out of Jason's way. Carly had grudgingly agreed. As much as she wanted Jason's head on a stick, she knew she had other ways to get to him, if she waited for things to calm down a bit. Besides, she had to focus on AJ and the boys right now.

Cook was most aggrieved at this invasion. He considered little children to be howler monkeys with better PR. But one stern look from Monica silenced any objections from him. He'd seen what had happened to Reginald when Monica got that look on her face.

Alan and Monica were tense during this whole time. Skye had been coming home every night, instead of going to Lorenzo's, in order to be there for them. Justus, Ned and Brooke also made sure to come up for breakfast every day, to act as buffers if need be. Tracy wisely stayed out of the way. She knew that putting her two cents in right now wouldn't accomplish anything. And she was fond of AJ, in her own way, and didn't want to do anything to undermine him.

Tracy had been quiet since the party. No one knew she was burning with curiosity over what had happened with Coleman and his tenant. But she was too proud to go to him.

They were terrified for AJ, who was quiet and withdrawn. He'd been able to put on a front for Michael the night of Jason's blowup, but since then, he only spoke when spoken to. He left early every day, and often didn't come home until after supper. He'd come home at his usual time on Monday and Jason had snarked at him, referring to his silence as “another AJ pity party.”

AJ took it without comment, something that scared Monica and Alan. They felt like they were walking a tightrope. They knew Jason had a right to his anger after the accident. He'd lost nine years of his life and his planned future in medicine. But they were also scared that Jason's anger would push AJ too far – back to the bottle.

AJ had been going to meetings ever day, and was in daily contact with his sponsor. But for the first time since he'd joined AA, he wasn't feeling fully connected to it. He tried to focus on other members and their stories, but his own pain was roaring in his ears and muted everything else.

He clung to his sponsor like a life preserver. The sponsor advised patience. As Monica said, it was one day at a time. He couldn't depend on Jason for his sobriety. Jason wasn't ready for apologies or amends yet. So AJ hung in there, but felt so low he couldn't even turn to Carly.

AJ's silence was taking a toll on Carly. She burned to help, to comfort, to support, but AJ never opened the door for any of that. Every silent night in bed, she counted as a score to settle against Jason. She would lay there, dreaming of her revenge. It always ended the same – Jason vanquished, maybe even going away for good, while the family embraced AJ.

Whatever it takes, Carly thought.

* * *

Felicia Jones-Scorpio came to General Hospital for lunch with Bobbie Spencer. Only for a friend like Bobbie would Felicia voluntarily eat hospital food.

When she got off at the fourth floor to meet Bobbie, Florence Campbell, Lucy Coe-Collins, Amy Vining and Bobbie were gathered around the nurses' station. She knew they were talking over the Nurses' Ball, which was now less than a month away.

“Hello, ladies,” she said. “What's going on?”

“Hey, Felicia!” Lucy said. “Nothing much, just the usual insanity leading up to the Nurses' Ball.”

“What's the insanity this time?” Felicia asked.

“Well, the whole mess with Nikolas and Emily,” Lucy said. “I'm wondering if I should just scratch Emily from the show altogether. It'll make a hole in her number, but unless she gets back here soon and gets a new partner – Zander is obviously out of the question – then we have no other choice. I've tried to contact Nikolas through Cassadine International, but so far he hasn't called back.”

“And then there's that rumor ...” Florence began.

“Don't say it! I don't even want to think it!” Lucy said, putting her hands up to her ears. “Safe happy place ... safe happy place ...” she chanted.

“What rumor?” Felicia asked.

“There's a rumor floating around that after what happened at the party, Nikolas is going to withdraw his pledged support of the Nurses' Ball,” Amy said. “I heard he was mad at Stefan for leaving him alone to take Alexis home. Which is ridiculous. If he's man enough to do the deed, he shouldn't expect to hide behind his uncle's coattails when it comes out.”

“He wouldn't!” Felicia said. “I don't believe he'd be that vindictive!”

“Safe happy place ...” Lucy chanted.

“I wouldn't have believed he'd betray a friend,” Bobbie said. “And look what he did to Zander. But I really think it's just a rumor. It doesn't solve Lucy's problem of the hole in that number, but it's better than it being true. Ready for lunch, Felicia?”

“Ready,” Felicia replied. “See you all later.”

The group dispersed – Bobbie and Felicia left for the cafeteria, Amy to her rounds, Florence to her office, Lucy to the Lady Jane Plaza to meet with the caterers.

No one saw Stefan Cassadine over by the pay phones. But he had heard everything. He was inclined to believe Bobbie, that it was all just a rumor. But he couldn't be sure. And he had to prevent Nikolas from doing any more damage. He'd heard from Alexis that a European gossip tabloid had already called Cassadine International's offices in Port Charles, asking for comment on Nikolas' and Emily's relationship. The company spokesman had given a terse, “no comment,” but Stefan and Alexis knew that would not end the matter.

Stefan went back to his office and called the most chatty Cassadine International board member, ostensibly to confirm her plans to attend the Nurses' Ball. He then casually asked if Cassadine International was still helping to underwrite the ball. He'd heard some rumors ...

“I haven't heard a thing,” the board member replied in a shocked voice. “But I'll find out ...”

* * *

Felicia chose the soup of the day – chicken tortilla – and a fruit salad. She sat down across from Bobbie.

“Okay,” she said. “Spill.”

Bobbie laughed.

“It was great, Felicia,” Bobbie said. “I haven't had that much fun in ages.”

“What did you do?”

“For starters, he booked us the private dining suite at the Lady Jane,” Bobbie said. “It was amazing. Champagne and caviar to start, then a ten-course tasting menu! Everything in little portions, presented in amazing ways – asparagus souffle, tuna, quail, Thai eggplant. Then we had a dessert assortment – sour cherry tarts, passion fruit sorbet, handmade chocolates. Oh, it was divine!”

“And the company?” Felicia asked.

“He was terrific,” Felicia said. “We talked and laughed the whole time. He told me stories from his travels, I told him about some of my adventures. He was so attentive, and so fun. I feel kind of ... giddy, like I'm a teenager or something. Although I was too old inside to feel that way when I was teenager, working for Ruby.”

“You didn't feel that way about John?” Felicia asked, then wished she could bite off her tongue. Bobbie hesitated. It was the first time she'd thought of John in days.

“No, I didn't,” she said. “John was something most girls don't experience until they're older. It was real love – we understood each other in a way most teens can't. It was because I understood him that I had to push him away when I got pregnant. It probably ruined any chance we ever had.”

“But you've still thought about him,” Felicia said.

“And he's never made a move,” Bobbie said. “At the Quartermaine party, I might as well have been invisible. No, I'll take that as my signal from the love gods and move on. At least Jerry knows I'm around.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“I hope so, after that goodnight kiss he gave me,” Bobbie said with a grin.

“Really?! Now you're getting to the good stuff,” Felicia said.

“Not much else to tell,” Bobbie said. “His kiss made my toes curl, then he went to his car. But he asked if we could see each other this week. Depends on my practice schedule for the Nurses' Ball.”

* * *

The chief of the Iroquois County Rescue Squad stood in the doorway, looking on in amusement at Sam McCall and Lucky Spencer in the garage. They had moved the ambulances out to the driveway to have more room.

“You're out of uniform, McCall,” he said loudly, to be heard over the music. “Those are definitely not regulation footwear.”

Lucky and Sam stopped mid-step. They didn't know they had an audience.

“Oh, I'm sorry, sir,” Sam said.

“What gives here?” the chief asked. “Never thought I'd see you in heels, McCall.”

“Rehearsing, sir,” Lucky said. “We're performing in the Nurses' Ball in a few weeks.”

The chief nodded.

“Good to hear,” he said. “I like having the squad represented in a big event like that. Just keep your boots nearby, McCall, in case a call comes in. And, Spencer, stop counting the beats out loud. Don't make us look bad.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucky said. He looked at Sam and grinned.

“Ready to take it from the top?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, not looking at him.

Lucky was puzzled. Sam had been aloof all week with him. He didn't get it. He'd asked Karen about it, but Karen said Sam was fine with them. He couldn't think of anything he'd done.

“Everything okay?” Lucky asked.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” Sam said. “Let's do it.”

Lucky reset the music to the beginning.

* * *

Jason was driving home from his rescue squad classes and decided to take a detour through some other neighborhoods. His class had gotten out early that day because of a power failure in the building.

Everything looked the same, yet different. A new cluster housing development here, some rehabbed houses there. Bobbie's brownstone neighborhood looked the same. A few minutes later, he found himself in the neighborhood where Felicia, Mac, Maxie and Georgie lived. He slowed to see if anyone was home.

Dillon, Georgie and TJ Hardy were in the driveway. He was surprised to see Michael with them. He pulled over and got out of the car.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey, Jason!” Dillon said. “How were classes?”

“Pretty good,” Jason said. “Hey, Michael. What are you guys up to today?”

“Nurses' Ball practice,” Georgie said. “We're in a number together.”

“Our number's a secret!” Michael said. “So don't tell anyone. Just Mom knows. Grandpa and Grandma don't know. It's a surprise.”

Jason laughed and nodded.

“Got it,” he said. “Sounds interesting. Anyone need a ride home?”

“Michael, would you go with Jason?” Dillon asked. “I was going to go out with Georgie after dropping you off, so this'll save me a trip.”

“Sure,” Michael said. “See you guys on Friday!”

Michael hopped in the car with Jason. He'd been a bit reluctant, but Jason seemed in a good mood.

Jason told stories of the Nurses' Balls he remembered. Then, a roadside ice cream stand appeared down the road.

“It's still here!” Jason said. “I loved this place! Want some ice cream, Michael?”

“Sure!” Michael said.

* * *

Carly looked at the clock as she read over the decorations list for the Nurses' Ball. Michael would be home any minute. AJ had called and told her he was going to an AA meeting after work, so not to wait for him for supper. He'd see her and the boys when he got home.

She was relieved. He hadn't given up on AA. And she knew that going to AA was something AJ couldn't lie about. If he was close to drinking, he would have come up with some other excuse.

Carly looked out the window. No sign of Dillon's car yet. She began pacing the parlor.

* * *

Michael got a large rocky road cone. Jason got a large cone in orange and cream.

“It's nice to know some things are as good as you remember them,” Jason said.

“You came here a lot?” Michael asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Jason said. “Your dad and me, we loved this place. Mom and Dad would take us here sometimes for a treat when we were kids.”

“What was your favorite flavor?”

“I couldn't pick,” Jason said. “One week, it'd be blueberry. The next week, banana cream. After that, there were always surprise flavors like lavender.”

“Yuck!” Michael said, making a face.

“I tried it once,” Jason said. “It was better than I thought. It was something more for grownups, I think. Your grandmother loved it. But then they'd do something like bubble gum or peanut butter cup – those were fun. I loved trying them all. One summer, I tried to eat every flavor they had. Your dad stuck with his favorites – chocolate, strawberry and fudge ripple. Sometimes, I'd take a bite of his and he'd take a bite of mine.”

“Dad likes strawberry cheesecake ice cream now,” Michael said.

“That sounds good,” Jason said.

* * *

“Hello, Felicia? This is Carly. Doing well. Have you seen Michael? He was supposed to be at your place.”

“Sorry, Carly,” Felicia said, setting a grocery bag on the counter. “I just got in and the house is quiet. Let me check for a second.”

Carly waited, tapping her foot.

“Nope, no one's here,” Felicia said. “Wasn't Dillon supposed to bring him home?”

“Yes, and his phone's off,” Carly said with an impatient sigh. “He always has it off when he's driving.”

“Try Audrey,” Felicia suggested. “Maybe they went over there with TJ.”

“Thanks, Felicia,” Carly said. “If you do see any of them, have them call me?”

Carly hung up and called Audrey. Same response – no sign of Michael or anyone else.

“Maybe they needed to run an errand for the ball or something,” Tracy, who'd just gotten home, said.

“Then someone should have called!” Carly snapped. She went outside to the patio, trying to hold back the rising panic.

“I'll try the cottage,” Tracy called out to Carly. “Maybe they stopped there to see Brooke Lynn and lost track of time.”

Carly took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” she said.

* * *

Jason and Michael were almost done with their cones. They were talking about Michael's plans for fall lacrosse.

“It's a short season,” Michael said. “Only until late October. But it'll be fun. Better than soccer.”

Just then, a little blonde girl approached them.

“Hi, Michael,” she squeaked. Jason saw Michael subtly scoot away from her like she had cooties.

“Hi, Jodie,” Michael said.

“Having a fun summer?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Michael said. “This is my Uncle Jason.”

“Hello, sir,” Jodie said.

“Hello, Jodie,” Jason replied. My God, he thought, her voice could strip rust off iron.

“I'm having my birthday party in a few weeks, Michael,” Jodie said. “I hope you can come. Mom's letting me invite the whole class. We're having it at my grandparents' farm, out near Beecher's Corners. There's a swimming hole, and horses, and lots of room for games.”

“I'll have to see if my parents'll let me,” Michael said. “Let me know when.”

“Mom's sending out the invitations tomorrow,” Jodie replied. “Hope to see you there. 'Bye! 'Bye, Mr. Jason!”

Michael and Jason waved.

“Classmate of your's?”

“Yeah,” Michael said. “She's not bad ... for a girl. Mom and Dad say someday I'll like girls enough to want to kiss one of them, but I don't believe it.”

Jason held back laughter.

“Well, they do have their good points,” Jason said. “They start losing their girl germs, somewhere around 12, so they're more fun to be around.”

Michael giggled.

“Girl germs!” he laughed. “That's just what they have!”

Jason took the last bite of his cone.

“Ready?”

“Yep,” Michael said.

* * *

Into Lorenzo Alcazar's masculine home, a blizzard of bridal magazines had fallen.

Skye was consulting her massive bridal planner, bought the Monday after Lorenzo had proposed. So many decisions, she thought. Veil or tiara? Tiara, she decided. It's not like I'm a blushing first-time bride.

She looked over at Lorenzo, who was reading one of the magazines with amusement.

“I see we've joined the bridal-industrial complex,” he said wryly.

“Yes sir,” she said, with a sparkling laugh. “It's your first wedding and my last one. So let's do it in style.”

“So, what's my job in this besides show up and try to look like Prince Charming?” Lorenzo asked. “What can I help plan?”

“Well, the groom's family usually does the rehearsal dinner,” Skye replied. “Since it's only you and Diego, you two can plan that.”

“Consider it done,” Lorenzo said. “What else?”

“Anything you like,” she said. “Let's start with the ceremony. Any particular place you'd like?”

“How about the University chapel?”

“I love it!” Skye said. “PCU is where we first got to know each other. And the chapel is lovely – the old stone with the stained glass windows. So you can secure that when we get an idea in mind for a date.”

“Check,” he said. “How about a date? Are you ready to set that?”

“I don't know, Lorenzo,” Skye said. “Right now, the family's so unsettled. Emily's gone, and Jason's just beginning to deal with his anger. I'd like things a little calmer for our wedding.”

“I just hope Emily and Nikolas don't try to upstage us again,” Lorenzo said sarcastically. “I may have to hire bouncers.”

“We'll also have to plan our wedding party,” Skye said. “I was going to ask Emily to be my maid of honor, but who knows if she'll even be around for it? I assume Diego will be your best man.”

“Of course.”

“After I choose my gown, we'll have to choose your tuxedo,” Skye said.

“Anything you like,” Lorenzo said. “You could dress me as a court jester in a medieval-themed wedding and I wouldn't care. As long as the minister pronounces us man and wife.”

“That'll be the best part,” Skye said, leaning in for a kiss.

“The best part comes later,” Lorenzo said between kisses. “Our wedding night.”

He drew her into his arms. He kissed her full lips, her eyelids, her creamy skin. He kissed his way down her neck, then back up to her ear, whispering words of love between kisses. He kissed back down her neck, along her collarbone, then as far as her open blouse would allow. He kissed her lips again as his hands came around and unbuttoned her blouse, caressing her satin bra underneath. Skye shivered in delight and anticipation. What Lorenzo could do with just his fingertips moved her more than any other man could do with his whole body. She threw back her head and moaned softly.

In one deft move, Lorenzo sat back on the sofa and pulled Skye on top so she was straddling him. He took off her blouse and unsnapped her bra. His hands and lips sought and found their prizes. Skye grabbed his hair and pulled him to her. She began to move against him, and felt him straining for her underneath. Finally, Lorenzo couldn't take any more. Panting, he pulled his lips off Skye and picked her up in his arms, carrying her upstairs.

Lorenzo's bedroom had a queen-size Stickley Mission bed, with matching nightstands, dresser and chest of drawers. Lamps with shades of stained glass in a Frank Lloyd Wright design were on each of the nightstands. The walls were painted in a soft gold, the color of aspen leaves in the fall. The bedding was a silk quilt of arts and crafts colors – deep olive green, creamy white, russet, brown and golden yellow. Linen sheets in the creamy white were underneath.

Lorenzo laid Skye gently on the bed, and swiftly joined her, laying beside her to caress and kiss everywhere he could. Skye reached for him and unbuttoned his shirt, then reached for his belt buckle. He reached for the button of her slacks.

Once undressed, Lorenzo rolled Skye on her back and kissed every inch of her body. Skye felt herself spiraling upwards into bliss. Finally, he moved up to kiss her and she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“Oh, Skye, yes!” he cried as they came together. As they moved as one, Skye continued her upward spiral. The heights they reached together never ceased to amaze her.

“Lorenzo!” she gasped as she felt the spiral reach its dizzying peak. “Oh, God, Lorenzo! I love you!”

She let out a small shriek, shuddering in her bliss. Lorenzo answered with wordless cries of his own.

They cuddled together, letting themselves cool down before diving under the covers.

“Now these rehearsals, I can get behind,” Skye said.

“So can I,” Lorenzo purred, kissing her hair and cheek.

* * *

Carly sat on the parlor sofa, her head in her hands. Brooke Lynn had told Tracy she hadn't seen either Dillon or Michael since that morning. The staff had searched the house and grounds. Nothing.

Monica had come home, and was sitting with Carly and Tracy in the parlor. She told Carly that if Michael wasn't home in 15 minutes, they'd call AJ and the police.

My boy, Carly thought. Where is he? The world is so big, and he's so small. Someone could make him disappear in a snap ...

Just then the front door opened. Carly stood up, but was dizzy for a moment. Then she ran out to the hallway.

Jason and Michael walked in, laughing and chatting.

“Michael!” Carly half-called, half-sobbed.

“Hi, Mom!” Michael said, traces of Rocky Road still around his lips.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Carly shouted at Jason. “Do you have any idea what it's been like, waiting for my son to come home, with no idea where he is or who he's with?”

“I picked him up at Felicia's,” Jason said, bewildered. “We stopped for ice cream on the way home.”

“And you didn't think to call?” Carly demanded. “Did you think I wouldn't notice that my son wasn't where he was supposed to be? I've been worried sick! I didn't know where he was – he could have been in an accident, or kidnapped ... or worse!”

Jason smiled to try and placate Carly.

“Come on, Carly,” he said. “It wasn't that long. You're letting your imagination get away with you.”

But instead of calming Carly, Jason's tone and words infuriated her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled. “He's the son of the Quartermaine heir! You don't think there are lowlifes out there who would want to try and kidnap him for ransom? And what about your run-of-the-mill pedophile? In the time from when Michael was at Felicia's until now, someone could have taken him, done God knows what and killed him! Maybe there was more brain damage than Tony thought, for you to do something this stupid! Or maybe you did it deliberately, to punish AJ for having the nerve to get sober and be happy without you!”

Jason was thrown by her ferocity.

“Carly, I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't think ...”

“Of course not!” Carly screamed. “You haven't thought of anyone but yourself since you woke up! Just about everything's been all about you – what you're doing, what you're going to do, what you're feeling! God forbid you give a thought to anyone else! And everyone indulges you, acting like you crap nothing but rainbows and puppies! Well, I'm not going to take this --”

Her voice had risen to a shriek. Her whole body was shaking with rage. Jason was pale seeing her like this.

Monica stepped in.

“That's enough, Carly!” she snapped, and, dragging Carly's arm, she dragged her into the parlor, with Tracy following and closing the door behind them. Jason heard a slap, and hysterical sobbing.

Michael turned angrily to Jason.

“I don't see why everyone thinks you're so great!” he shouted. “All you've done is make everyone unhappy!”

He turned and ran up the stairs.

“Michael!” Jason called. “Wait!”

Too late. He heard a door upstairs slam. He stood in the entry, alone and confused.

* * *

Brooke Lynn lounged on the couch in the cottage's living room, listening to Iggy Pop. She finally heard Dillon knocking when he banged the door with his fist.

“Hey, there,” Brooke said. “Everyone's looking for you! Where's Michael?”

Dillon looked puzzled.

“Jason drove by Felicia's as we were leaving, and took Michael home with him,” Dillon said. “I left with Georgie soon after. I haven't checked my messages yet ...”

He turned on his cell phone. There were eight new messages on it, all from the house phone.

“Damn,” Dillon said. “Carly's going to skin me alive.”

“Don't worry,” Brooke said. “I'll come with you. I won't let her lay a fingernail on you.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. They drove up to the main house, and Dillon put the car in his garage spot.

Jason was still standing in the entry when they walked in. There were muffled voices in the parlor.

“Jason,” Dillon said. “Everything okay?”

Jason turned a white face to Dillon.

“No,” he said. “Michael and I stopped for ice cream on the way home. Carly came after me like a forest fire. She was hysterical – ranting and raving about kidnappers and molesters. I thought she was going to scratch my eyes out. Mom had to drag her away from me. I think I heard her slap Carly. I've never seen anything like it.”

Brooke and Dillon looked at each other. They knew Carly had a temper, but ...

“I thought she'd be over that by now,” Dillon said.

“Over what?” Jason asked.

“Come on,” Brooke said, leading the way into the dining room. “We'll tell you all about it.”

Jason sat facing them at the table.

“I'm really sorry, Jason,” Dillon said. “I should have told you to take Michael straight home, or to call if you were going to stop somewhere. But, as I said, I thought Carly was over that whole thing.”

“What 'whole thing?'” Jason asked.

“No one told you?” Brooke said. “She was shot by Sonny Corinthos a few years ago right before he was killed --”

“I know about that,” Jason said.

“Well, she was pretty traumatized by it,” Brooke continued. “She had just regained consciousness after blacking out when she hit her head on the walk. Lorenzo had already called 911 – thank God he had, or they both might have died – when Sonny went crazy and shot Lorenzo. She saw him get hit, then everything went black again an instant later when the bullet hit her in the head. When she woke up and found out what had happened, she was terrified. That bullet came millimeters from going through her skull and killing her. The hospital had to hire security – she was convinced Sonny was going to come after her again. If she saw a dark-haired man pass outside the room, she'd flip. She had to be sedated a few times.”

Jason shuddered. He remembered his dream, when Sonny had shot her in the head while she was giving birth to Morgan. He had excused Sonny's actions in his dream. Now, he didn't know how he could have done that.

“After Carly came home from the hospital, she was totally scared of everything,” Dillon picked up the story. “She didn't leave the house – she even hated going outside to the patio or the garden. She'd jump at any sudden sound – someone dropped a book, or the phone rang. One time, she fell apart crying when the gardeners fired up the lawn mower. She had to know where AJ and Michael were at all times. She was convinced Sonny would go after them, next. If AJ wasn't at his desk when she called him, she'd make Rhonda stop whatever she was doing and track him down. If Michael's school bus was late, she was on the phone to the school bitching out the principal. She wouldn't let him go on field trips, or sign up for any activities. She didn't even like it when AJ took him out for father-son time.”

“We all thought she was going to have a nervous breakdown,” Brooke said. “She'd look out the window and swear she saw Sonny lurking in the woods. Not even great-grandmother could reach her at times. She could hardly eat, and lost weight. I was scared AJ was going to buckle under the strain – but he didn't. He finally talked her into getting some counseling. Dr. Thomas had to come to the house at first – she tried to go see him, but then she'd have a panic attack at the door and couldn't go outside.”

“It got better after Sonny finally got what was coming to him,” Dillon added. “She demanded that her dad take her to the morgue to see for herself. John said she took a good, long look, poked him hard a couple of times, then spit in his face. She was able to sleep through the night for the first time since she got shot. She continued her therapy for a while, then she had Morgan, and seemed to be doing a lot better.”

“Maybe it was the stress everyone's been under lately,” Brooke theorized. “First Emily, and now --”

She stopped short, embarrassed. She didn't want to sounds like she was blaming Jason entirely.

“Thanks, guys,” Jason said. “I better go talk to her.”

“I wouldn't do that right now, Jason,” Dillon said. “Wait. It could take her a while to calm down. Best to lay low for a bit.”

Jason blinked, nodded and blinked again.

“Okay,” he said. “Thanks.”

They left. Jason sat at the table for a while. So much made sense now – why she didn't drive at night anymore, why she seemed resistant to the idea of Michael going away to sleepaway lacrosse camp next year, why she became frightened when Alice told her AJ called before they went to Vagabond.

And he'd gone and not only added to her fears, but cavalierly dismissed them. How could she ever forgive that, he worried.

* * *

Carly paced the patio and garden. She'd calmed down after the rage had passed, and was now filled with remorse.

It wasn't for hurting Jason, but upsetting Michael. She didn't give a rat's ass about Jason's feelings, except how they could be used for her ends. She feared that she had destroyed any chance of good relations with him. Without having that angle, there was no way to help or protect AJ.

She racked her brain to come up with a way to repair the damage. Then she saw Brooke Lynn leaving. She hadn't seen her come in. Maybe Brooke had talked to Jason. Maybe she told him what Sonny had done, and the trauma that followed.

That's it! Carly thought, her eyes lighting up. Fortunately, she was facing away from the house so Monica didn't see the unholy gleam.

I can play up the victim thing, she thought. Jason loved to be the good little white knight, helping ladies in distress and stuff. He'll lap this up like a dog in a toilet bowl.

Now, the first part, convincing Monica she was contrite. She dropped into a stone seat in the garden, and put her head limply in her hands. After a few minutes, it worked. Monica came outside and sat beside her.

“You all right?” Monica asked, rubbing her back.

“I think so,” Carly said in a trembling voice.

“Do you want me to call AJ?”

“No!” Carly said. “I'll be fine. Don't worry him. He has enough to worry about without this. I don't know what came over me ... Jason would never do anything to deliberately hurt me. I feel so stupid. He probably thinks I'm stark, raving mad – and rightfully so.”

She laughed ruefully.

“Jason will understand,” Monica said soothingly. “Brooke Lynn said she told him about what happened when Sonny shot you. If you like, I'll talk with him to make sure he understands.”

Carly shook her head.

“Thanks,” she said with a sigh. “But I think it's something I have to do. I owe him a huge apology. And I have to set an example for Michael. I don't want this interfering in his relationship with Jason, and I want him to see that family forgives each other.”

“Good for you,” Monica said. “I know the past few weeks have been a strain for you. I'm sorry I didn't fully see it before. I just got so caught up first with Emily, then in worrying over AJ, and Jason, and how they'll work through this.”

“Thanks,” Carly said, patting Monica's knee. “I know how hard this has been for you. And I'm sorry about adding to things. I'll go talk with Jason – at least maybe I can make this right.”

She got up and walked inside. Tracy came outside after Carly had gone upstairs and sat beside Monica.

“You sure that's a good idea?” Tracy asked. She knew Carly was going to manipulate this for her advantage, but also knew Monica couldn't see that.

“It's the right thing, Tracy,” Monica said. “It's two less Quartermaines at each others' throats. Right now, I have all I can handle.”

* * *

Jason lay on his bed, staring at the window. There was a soft knock on his door. He sat up.

“Come in,” he said. He was amazed when Carly entered, traces of tears still on her face, which was puffy.

“God, Carly, I'm sorry --” “Jason, I'm so sorry --” they both said at once. Then they stopped and looked at each other.

“You must have thought I was a total lunatic,” Carly said with a sheepish grin.

“I didn't understand,” Jason said. “Then Brooke and Dillon told me what happened. My God, Carly, that must have been hell for you! If I'd known ...”

“I know,” she said. “And I should have known you wouldn't do anything like that deliberately. I'm so sorry for lashing out at you like that. You didn't deserve it.”

Okay, so I lied, Carly thought. He deserved all that and then some.

“Thanks,” Jason said. “I was terrified you'd hate me. You've been a great friend since I came home, Carly, and I'd hate to have lost that.”

“You haven't,” she said. “And I'll make Michael understand.”

Jason walked over and pulled her into a hug. She clung to him, then turned on the waterworks.

“Oh, Jason,” she sobbed. “You were right! It was absolute hell! Everywhere I went, it seemed like, there Sonny was, staring at me with those creepy stalking eyes. Thank God he's dead, otherwise I'd have been in Ferncliff a long time ago.”

Jason stroked her hair.

“If it wasn't for AJ, I don't think I could have handled it,” Carly said in a quavering voice. “He stuck by me, even when I was at my most irrational. He was the one that got me to see Dr. Thomas, and arranged to have him come to the house when I couldn't leave the house. I thought I'd put it behind me ...”

“But you didn't,” Jason said. “It's still affecting you.”

“Maybe I'll make an appointment to see Dr. Thomas again,” she said. “I think I need to get some balance back.”

Jason pulled back and looked in her eyes.

“So we're okay?” he asked. Carly smiled gently at him. He is so my bitch, she thought.

“We're okay,” she replied, hugging him. “I better go talk to Michael before dinner.”

Carly left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She looked around, noticed no one, and smirked.

I've got him back where he belongs, she thought. Right in my pocket. She walked down the hall to see Michael.

Jason flopped back on the bed. He was thrilled that Carly had forgiven him. He loved the way she clung to him. A thought flashed into his mind. He could use that friendship against AJ. Not that he'd ever lie to Carly, but if he could get closer to her, it would leave AJ feeling alone and abandoned – something like he himself had felt coming out of the coma. It'd be a fitting pound of flesh.

He lay there, thinking about her soft curves pressing into him. It had been so long since he'd held a woman. Arousal surged in him. He imagined making love to a woman – the kisses, the caresses, the coming together ... then he visualized the night he watched Carly and AJ make love by the pool. But instead of AJ, he saw himself there.

No, he thought. I can't go there. That's going too far. But the images kept popping up. He reached down and unzipped his jeans. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying out Carly's name.

When he finished, he lay there sweating and ashamed. He could never do what he imagined. That would devastate Michael, and his parents. He had to stop thinking about Carly that way. Maybe I should find another woman, he thought. Not necessarily a girlfriend, but someone who I could really touch, kiss and make love to.

That decided, he cleaned up and went down to dinner.

* * *

AJ came home late. Monica and Alan were waiting for him. They told him what had happened.

“Why didn't someone call me?” he asked.

“Carly didn't want us to,” Monica said. “She wanted to make everything right without worrying you.”

Guilt and shame slammed AJ. He should have been here. If he wasn't such a weakling, if he was someone good enough to be counted on, they would have called.

“I have to go up to her,” he said, and ran upstairs.

Carly was sitting at the window seat, reading a fashion magazine, when AJ walked in. He went straight to her and hugged her fiercely.

“I'm so sorry,” he said. “I should have been here for you. You deserve better than me right now. I deserve a total smackdown.”

Carly rolled her eyes. There goes the self-pity again, she thought.

“Stop it!” she said. “It wasn't just for you that I didn't want them to call you. I wanted to work things out with Jason myself, and try and mend fences. I made the mess, I had to clean it up. And I knew you'd be home soon, which helped. I'm so glad you're home.”

AJ took her face in his hands. She looked in his eyes with total trust and love.

“Now I know you deserve better,” he whispered. “As Ralph Kramden said, 'Baby, you're the greatest!'”

Carly laughed and kissed him. AJ kissed her back fiercely, feeling turned on for the first time since Friday night. Carly felt it, and pounced on him. They made love ferociously. Afterwards, they cuddled together.

“God, I love you,” Carly said, still breathing hard.

“That's been the best gift I've ever gotten,” AJ said. “And I intend to deserve it.”

Carly lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

“You already do, AJ,” she said. “Just by being you.”

Tears came to AJ's eyes.

“Well, then, I'll just have to be the best me I can,” he said. “Because I don't want to lose this.”

“You never will.”