Dream a Little Dream

Chapter 4

Two weeks had passed since Jason Quartermaine had awakened from his nine-year coma. His physical therapy was going well, and Dr. Tony Jones had said he would likely be able to go home soon, although physical therapy would have to continue.

There had been some minor brain damage, mostly affecting fine motor skills. Other than that, Tony said, Jason would be able to live a normal life.

Jason knew he'd been lucky to escape serious brain damage. But he knew that losing fine motor skills meant he couldn't become a surgeon. He had thought little about a career since he'd woken up. Much of his time was spent adjusting to the present, doing physical therapy, and trying to put his coma-induced dream of being a hitman for Sonny Corinthos out of his mind.

Now, the reminder of his old dream of becoming a surgeon brought up the future. It was hard to think of the future without thinking of the past he'd lost. And that loss was AJ's fault.

Alan and Monica had not let AJ come to visit yet. Part of it was concern for Jason's physical health. Part of it was wanting to be able to enjoy having their son back before the inevitable blowup.

They'd noticed that AJ was very quiet, and that Carly looked anxious much of the time, and had become more observant of AJ's comings and goings. They knew why – she was afraid he would start drinking again, and so was AJ.

“You should talk to him, Alan,” Monica said in bed one night. “You're an addict. You understand more than anyone.”

Alan shook his head.

“But first and foremost, I'm his father,” he said. “And I know he's reliving what he put us through and what he did to Jason. I can't reach him addict-to-addict right now, and it would probably hurt more than help if I tried. He needs to work his 12 steps himself, without his family interfering, and be fully responsible for his sobriety.”

“What if he doesn't stay sober? What then? Are we doomed to always get one son back but lose another?”

Monica huddled against Alan. He felt her tears on his chest, and leaned down to kiss her hair.

“No, we're not doomed, Monica,” Alan said. “If AJ falls off the wagon, we'll deal with it. We will not let his drinking hurt the family again. My biggest concern right now is Carly. The worst thing that she can do right now is the what she does best – act on impulse and lash out.”

* * *

The night air had cooled a little. Skye Quartermaine pulled her silk shawl a little tighter as she walked to Vagabond, where she was meeting Lorenzo Alcazar for a late supper.

She still couldn't believe her luck at being with Lorenzo. She'd been alone for so long. She and Lorenzo had first gotten aquainted through her handling the family's philanthropic work with Port Charles University. Lorenzo had come to PCU a few years ago as a swashbuckling history professor, who engaged his students and demanded much of them. Most students loved it. Those that didn't, dropped the class.

Some in the university community had opposed Lorenzo being hired, as did Edward, because of his family ties. His brother, Luis, was widely reputed to be a South American drug runner. Skye had never met Lorenzo, but her weakness for the underdog rallied her to his defense. She also understood about being judged by your family. When she was growing up, everyone saw her not as Skye, but as Adam Chandler's daughter. Now that she had found out she was Alan Quartermaine's daughter, everyone judged her by Alan, or Edward, or AJ.

Lorenzo had come in with a passion for teaching, a polite interest in university politics, and a fierce protection of his private life. Little was known about him other than his living in an Arts and Crafts historic house several miles from campus. When the weather was good, he ran or biked to work, carrying his work clothes in a backpack. Some days, he drove a silvery blue convertible. He was only seen out at university functions. Despite his smoldering good looks, he was never seen with a woman. Some graduate students had tried to catch his attention, but he looked at them and their coarse flirting as if they were overeager puppies yipping, chasing their tails and wetting the carpet.

After his brother Luis came to town and reportedly tried to start a mob war with Sonny Corinthos, rumors flew that the administration was going to ask Lorenzo to resign, or that he was going to resign and flee his brother. Edward had made some noise at home about Lorenzo, but had been roundly told to stuff it by Lila, Monica, AJ and Skye. When word got out that the Quartermaines backed Professor Alcazar, gossip died down fast. Luis' half-pike with a full twist off his apartment balcony helped settle matters for good.

As the Quartermaine representative at PCU, Skye had been casually acquainted with Lorenzo. One day, when things looked the worst and whispers could have turned to shouts calling for Lorenzo's ouster, she was walking by his office and saw him at his desk, staring into an abyss, judging by the expression on his face. She walked in without knocking.

“Don't let your family determine who you are anymore,” she said. “Been there, done that, got the A.A. membership.” She then closed the door and walked away.

The next day, an enormous vase of pink tulips was delivered to her office at ELQ. An unsigned card said, “Guess you're stuck with me.”

Skye didn't see it as a romantic gesture, but one of someone with a good enough heart to express gratitude. Her words and his flowers turned their acquaintance into friendship. They mostly e-mailed and talked on the phone, sometimes meeting for coffee in a coffeehouse off campus. It was a small business started by AJ, to give students an alcohol-free hangout.

She told him her story, of her drinking, cruelties, failures, joys and disappointments. He opened up to her as he had opened up to no one in years. He told of his childhood, of his desperate break from his criminal family, the death of his fiancee Sophie.

Skye kept a vigil at the hospital when he was shot by Sonny, and kept him company often as he recuperated.

When their feelings had turned romantic, Skye still didn't know. It was as natural and inevitable as the sunrise. Everything changed right before Christmas last year. Earlier that year, he'd found out that Sophie had had his son, named him Diego, and placed him with a prominent family to keep him safe from Luis. Diego had come looking for him, and was now living with his father and attending PCU, studying pre-med.

Lorenzo had not celebrated Christmas for himself since Sophie died. This year, he told Skye, he wanted to go all-out. So in the weeks before Thanksgiving, they spent Saturdays shopping for everything from ornaments to candles. The week before Christmas, they bought a huge tree. Laughing like children, they and Diego decorated it while Nat King Cole, Andy Williams, Frank Sinatra and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir provided carols.

Diego went out after the tree was done, meeting friends before they left for semester break. Skye and Lorenzo lounged in front of the fire. All the lights were out except the ones on the tree. All of a sudden, Skye sensed something directly over her head. She looked up, and there was a sprig of mistletoe in Lorenzo's hand. She looked in his eyes for a long moment, then he leaned in and kissed her.

Her feelings were jumbled at that moment – hope and fear at the surface, but deep down, she felt like she had come home. A feeling of utter belonging that she'd never known enveloped her.

It had been a happy, giddy time for her ever since. Alan beamingly approved. AJ freaked her out one morning making her believe she had a visible, monstrous hickey. He had the whole family in on the joke, everyone pretending to stare at her neck at breakfast, before she looked in the mirror, saw nothing, and threw a scone at a cackling AJ while the assembled Quartermaines cracked up laughing.

* * *

“Good evening, Skye.”

“Oh! Hello, Stefan! How are you?” Skye smiled at seeing her friend. “I called your office recently but your assistant said you'd left for the day. I hope everything is all right.”

Stefan smiled.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “I was doing what you Americans call 'playing hooky.'”

Skye delicately arched an eyebrow.

“You did? You naughty boy,” she teased. “So what did you do? Hide under the bleachers and smoke? Go to the quarry and go swimming? Try to peek into the girls' locker room?”

Stefan laughed.

“Actually, I bought a Hog.”

Skye stared.

“What on earth would you want with a pig? Unless you're planning one heck of a Labor Day picnic, or is he going to unearth truffles on Spoon Island?”

Stefan enjoyed her befuddlement. “No, a Hog as in a Harley-Davidson motorcycle,” he said. “It's beautiful and fast and smooth.”

Skye could only laugh helplessly at the images Stefan on a Harley conjured. “Are you going to get a tatoo? Maybe grow your hair into a mullet?”

“No, Skye. I'm not quite the Cassadine I used to be, but I don't think I can go that far.”

They continued to walk towards Vagabond.

“Actually, Skye, I'm glad I found you tonight,” Stefan said. “We've been so busy with the Nurse's Ball we have not been giving adequate thought to other fundraising ventures. And with your grandparents' Family Health Center coming up, and the mobile health clinic, we need to do something. Are you free to discuss some ideas?”

Skye shook her head.

“I'm sorry, Stefan, I'm meeting Lorenzo right now,” she said. “But call me in the morning. We should be able to have a long meeting in the next few days.”

Stefan nodded.

“I look forward to it,” he said. “Enjoy your evening, and give my regards to Professor Alcazar. Good night, Skye.”

* * *

“Are you all right, Emily?” Zander Lewis looked over at Emily, who was sitting on the window seat in Zander's apartment. She was looking out towards the river. The lights of Wyndemere twinkled faintly in the distance.

Emily smothered a sigh of irritation over having her daydream interrupted.

“I'm fine, Zander,” she said. “Just thinking about classes.” Anatomy in particular, she thought.

She remembered when she first met Zander. He'd been a bad-boy type, estranged from his wealthy family. His brother Pete had committed suicide, sending his psychiatrist father Cameron into a profound depression and self-doubt. Zander, just a pre-teen at the time of Pete's death, had taken Cameron's silence to mean he, Zander, was somehow at fault for what happened. He went into a tailspin of his own. He fought with everyone, and ran away from boarding school, before Emily helped forge a reconciliation between father and son. Zander also adored his stepmother, Alexis, and little half-sister Kristina.

Now, he was studying at PCU's business school, going for his MBA. And he had Emily. She had made him see he was worth something, that he was smart and good. She brought he and his father back together. She was his inspiration.

Emily felt like an animal in a cage. She and Nikolas knew they had to keep their true love a secret, and if she broke up with Zander there'd be so many questions. So it was best to keep things as they are for now. She knew she was in no danger from a proposal or marriage plans – she and Zander had long ago agreed not to make those moves until they both finished with school.

Zander's boyish face looked softer and younger in the lamplight. Emily contrasted it with Nik's Cupid's-bow pout and dark hotness. No contest, she thought. Zander was thinking that Emily had changed somehow in recent weeks. She'd become scattered, distracted. School must be pretty demanding right now, he thought. He wouldn't ask too much of her in the coming weeks.

“Ready to head back home?” he asked.

Finally, she thought. At least he didn't ask me to stay.

“Sure, Zander,” she said. “I'm pretty tired.”

* * *

It was a Girls' Night Out. Karen Wexler, Robin Scorpio, Gia Campbell and Elizabeth Webber had started with dinner at Kelly's and ended up with drinks at Luke's.

Once, Kristina Cassadine was part of the merry outings. Elizabeth, Gia, Karen and Robin still missed her. Her vivacity had made them all better for being around her. Sometimes Emily Quartermaine came out, too, but had been noticeably absent lately.

The first big topic of the night was the miraculous awakening of Jason Quartermaine. Karen and Jason had dated in high school before she dumped him for her now ex-husband Jagger Cates. Robin had harbored a little crush on Jason before she'd fallen in love with Stone. Elizabeth barely remembered him. Gia, who never knew him, was eager to hear all about him.

“So he has these pretty blue eyes,” Gia said. Robin nodded.

“Remember Mrs. Quartermaine? They're like that,” she said. “And he was so sweet. The kind of guy you felt safe with. He and AJ were total opposites at the time.”

“Sounds like me and Sarah when we were kids,” Elizabeth said. “Sarah was always the good little girl, the one that colored inside the lines, always kept her clothes clean. I was the one always in trouble because I tore my jeans, or spilled the jar of water I was using to watercolor.”

Karen looked thoughtful.

“It's different now, though,” she said. “AJ's sober. He's grown up. Jason never got a chance to go from young man to man. It could be hard for both of them.”

“Uh-oh,” Robin interjected softly. “Eyeroller incoming.”

The girls groaned. Courtney Matthews strolled into Luke's in her usual all-white ensemble. This time, it was a white business suit.

“Hello, girls!” she said cheerily and insincerely. “Having a good time? It's not too crowded, which is good. A prospective donor to my foundation, and maybe the hospital, is meeting me here, so it could be a big night! Bye!”

Elizabeth, Robin, Gia and Karen gave a half-hearted wave, waiting until she was out of sight to do a collective mocking eyeroll, followed by a fit of giggling.

“Getting back to Jason,” Gia said. “So you went out with him for a while, Karen, any chance of getting back with him?”

Karen goggled.

“It's been over ten years, Gia!” she said. “And I've changed a lot – got involved in stripping and drugs thanks to Courtney's scumbag brother, married, divorced, went to med school, became a doctor. I'm not the same person I was back then. What about you, Elizabeth, or are you and Lucky going to renew your 'permanent lock?'”

Elizabeth flushed.

“I don't know,” she said. “Like you were saying with Jason, so much has changed. I've had to make my own way for a long time. I thought I was going to be an artist. But art doesn't put a roof over your head. So I've changed. And Lucky is terrific. But his experiences – being taken by Helena, and all that stuff that went down – have changed him, too. I don't know if there's anything there anymore beyond what we'd once had. There has to be more besides that. I want grown-up love.”

Robin grinned.

“And I know there's at least one guy who would love to try it with you,” she said. “If Ric Lansing got anymore googly-eyed over you, he'd end up daydreaming in court and he'd lose his district attorney job.”

Elizabeth flushed darker.

“And what about you, Robin?” Elizabeth said in a diversion attempt. “Anyone new?”

Robin looked down into her seltzer water. Just then, her watch vibrated. Time to take her medications.

“It's hard to find a guy who can stand up to this long-term,” she said as she got out her pills.

“I'm sorry, Robin...” Elizabeth began.

“No, it's okay,” Robin said. “It's not just the HIV in terms of the illness, and the sex issues. HIV's also a big part of who I am. It's my work. Because of it, I live with an urgency that few others have, or can live with for long. So, to change the subject, the only person who hasn't answered about her love life is Gia. What gives?”

Gia laughed shakily.

“Not much, work has been crazy lately.”

“Do you ever think about ... Nikolas?” Rovin asked hesitantly.

Gia's reply was firm.

“No,” she said. “Nikolas needs a princess, a girl he can put on a pedastal and shower with rose petals, and who can make him and their life together her whole world. I can't live in a fantasy – I need work and purpose and friends outside of love. And I need laughter. After everything that went down with Psychogranny, he went totally brooding Cassadine on me. He refuses to see fun in anything. Everything has to be so earnest, and serious. He's turning into what his uncle used to be. Which is funny because Stefan has lightened up so much.”

“So,” Karen said. “If not Nikolas, then someone else? Maybe Justus Ward?”

It was Gia's turn to goggle.

“God, no!” she said. “He's my boss! I don't make a mess where I eat. Maybe I can score with his cousin Jason, though!”

Elizabeth nearly choked on her cosmopolitan.

* * *

Courtney Matthews sulked in a corner, waiting for her potential donor.

She knew she was not welcome in the clique of Elizabeth, Karen, Gia and Robin. But she'd die before she let anyone see that it got to her. No one would ever know that she was actually lonely. She'd grit her teeth until her molars were dust before anyone saw a shred of real weakness in her. Anything she showed was a concious choice. It was both expedient and self-protective.

Courtney had come to town at the recommendation of her con-artist mother, Jeannine, who knew about AJ's history and felt Courtney could use it to her advantage. Courtney was looking forward to the new place. Maybe if she made good here, she could marry this AJ guy and finally belong somewhere. She might even have friends. Her old schoolmates were never allowed to bring her home because her mother was well-known in their Atlantic City community for her behavior.

Both Matthews women were blindsided when she came to Port Charles and found her father, Mike Corbin, living there, and a brother Courtney never knew she had. And it was an unwelcome and unwelcoming brother in the form of mobster Sonny Corinthos.

Courtney had also made a major misstep her first day when she tried to dine and dash from Kelly's while Elizabeth Webber was working there. Lucky Spencer and Nikolas Cassadine stopped her and threatened to call the cops, but Courtney told a good sob story, and they let her go. When they found out who she was, they felt scammed, and never liked her.

Between her miscue at Kelly's and being known as the sister of a hood, Courtney knew she had a hard fight to make it in Port Charles. Jeannine, however, didn't raise a quitter. So Courtney used her circumstances to her advantage, playing up her disgust at Sonny's business and being blindsided by her unknown brother. It worked, for a while. But then she'd been too obvious about her play for AJ Quartermaine, and many turned against her.

The connections she'd already made paid off when she inheirited $10 million from one of her old marks – who didn't even realize she had been a mark – for taking care of the lady's dog. Sonny made things hard for her by being more and more irrational and violent, but his death then made things easier. The trust fund he'd set up for her was from his legitimate business, so it couldn't be touched.

Her focus now was to make people stop seeing Sonny when they saw her. She wore white, to distance herself from Sonny's world of gloomy taupes, charcoals, and blacks. She threw herself into philanthropy and good works, making sure to be a vocal part of any group she was in. That was the path to respectability. And it was working, she thought. She was on the board for the mobile health clinic General Hospital was starting, to go out and give health care to the homeless. Tonight, she was meeting a mysterious representative of a mysterious person who said they were interested in the project. If she could bring in a wealthy benefactor, her regard at the hospital – so difficult to attain because of the Quartermaines – might go up. She knew they would block her from doing anything with the Nurse's Ball or the coming Edward and Lila Quartermaine Family Health Center. She also knew Stefan Cassadine was testing her. She had to do everything right, and above board.

“Good evening, Miss Matthews.”

Courtney looked up to see an elderly gentleman, with the look of libraries and cigars about him, standing by the table. She stood up and held out her hand.

“I'm Courtney Matthews,” she said. “But you have me at a disadvantage. You are...”

The gentleman shook her hand.

“I am Bernard Covington,” he said. “I am here as a representative of someone with interest in General Hospital's mobile health clinic project.”

Courtney cocked an eyebrow.

“'Someone,'” she said. “May I have a name for this 'someone?'”

“No, you may not,” was the crisp reply. “My client wishes to remain anonymous for now. My assignment is to find out as much as I can about this endeavor and present the information to my client. The next move is up to my client.”

Courtney furrowed her brow.

“I really don't like flying blind, Mr. Covington,” she said.

“People in your line rarely do, Miss Matthews,” he countered.

She didn't know what that meant – “her line” as a fundraiser, or did he know about her history? She hated the off-balance feeling that not knowing gave her. But she'd hold off making any bold moves one way or the other for now. If it turns out he's playing a game, I'll show him a player, she thought.

“All right, Mr. Covington,” she said, reaching for her briefcase. “What does your client want to know?”

* * *

Moonlight flooded into the bedroom AJ and Carly Quartermaine shared. From the wide window seat, AJ looked over at his sleeping wife. She always slept with a faint smile on her face after making love. In the moonlight, with that smile on her face, she looked ... sweet. Which was ludicrous, knowing Carly. “Sweet” was not in her repetoire.

And AJ loved her for that. She stood toe to toe with him – and every other Quartermaine – and gave as good as she got. It made him want her with a fire he never thought he could feel.

He turned back to the window. From there, he could see the boathouse, and the moonlight path on the water. When he was a little boy and his parents were fighting, or in their post-fight icy politeness, he saw that path on the water and dreamed it was the path to a place where he would be safe and happy, where no one yelled. It was all he wanted.

And he somehow ended up finding his happiness in a woman as tempestuous and insecure as he. I didn't get what I wanted, he thought. But maybe I got what I needed.

He felt Carly's arms encircle him and her hands caress his chest. He leaned his head back against her breast.

“Don't hide it from me,” Carly said. “I know you're fighting wanting to drink. You don't have to talk about it, but don't put up an act around me. Save it for your family, if you feel you have to put on an act.”

AJ softly chuckled.

“I never learn,” he said. “I can't hide anything from you, and I'll never stop being amazed by you. This doesn't scare you?”

“The only thing that scares me is losing you,” Carly said. “Your family, Jason, that's nothing. And I've got your back.”

She leaned down and began placing lingering kisses on his shoulder blades, and then up to his neck. Her hands slid downward, making AJ catch his breath. He turned around to face her. After some long, deep kisses, Carly pushed him down on the window seat. Eyes locked on each other, they instinctively sought and found. Slow became fast, movements became frenetic. AJ's eyes didn't leave Carly's face. In that moment, she would become completely open. She hid nothing – he saw all her love, lust, hunger, passion and joy. That look sent him spinning.

Afterwards, they lay there together under an afghan Lila had crocheted for their wedding gift. For the first time in weeks, Carly felt the dark cloud lift a little.