“By the power vested in me, by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The justice of the peace beamed as she finished and nodded to AJ. “You may kiss the bride.”
Gia gave a small smirk that only AJ saw. “I believe, that was my line,” she murmured as his lips descended to hers in a dizzying embrace. All around them, applause and cheers broke out, but the newly married couple took little notice. Only when Morgan let out a wail of protest as he wriggled in Bobbie’s arms from the first row of seats, did Gia break the kiss with a laugh. “We’ll continue this later,” she promised. AJ nuzzled her gently before they faced the crowd of well wishers.
Edward frowned from his seat next to Lila. “A justice of the peace? A woman no less!” he grumbled as Lila patted his hand. “My dear, do you not remember the Indian priestess who first sanctioned our union all those years ago in Bombay?” Reginald chortled at the revelation before turning his attention back to his very pregnant wife, Laticia.
An impatient Michael hopped up and down in his spot next to Justus, waiting for the music to start. AJ had told him he could come up and walk back down the aisle with he and Gia when the music began. After what seemed like forever, the speakers came to life as Dillon pressed play. Michael dashed up to the happy couple, tackling AJ’s leg. “Happy Wedding!” he boomed out exuberantly.
“Thanks buddy!” AJ replied, ruffling Michael’s hair affectionately. Morgan let out another shout, holding his arms out for Gia as he spotted her. Bobbie rose and approached Gia. “He wants you,” she said, a noticeable mist in her tone. Gia squeezed her hand sympathetically before taking the small child in her arms. “Thanks Bobbie,” she said simply. Bobbie nodded and sat back down next to Monica. Monica linked their arms in a comforting gesture as Bobbie let out a sad sigh. Morgan would never know Carly as his Mother. It was time to accept the fact that Gia had taken that role. She knew that in the years to come, Morgan would recognize her face and know who she was, but unlike Michael, would not connect with Carly the way he’d done with Gia. She should be happy that Morgan was loved by Gia as though he were her own. She was happy that both her grandsons were safe, content and well cared for in every way.
But they didn’t have Carly. That ache would never leave her.
As the new family headed back to the Quartermaine house from the rose garden, the crowd began to mingle. Monica sat with Bobbie quietly until much of the guests had dispersed to other areas of the property. Monica spied Lucas talked excitedly with Dillon as they enthused over the new sound system Dillon had managed to get Edward to purchase just before the wedding.
“Nice warm day,” she remarked as the two women listened to the chattering of forest life just beyond the outskirts of the rose garden. Bobbie nodded, feeling the sun shining down on her.
“Warm breeze too,” Monica added. “Perfect for sailing.”
Bobbie furrowed her brow in confusion. “Sailing?” She’d never known Monica to be fond of choppy waters.
“Carly said it once. A long time ago when she and AJ were married. She was in the backyard, standing under the blue sky. There was a warm breeze in the air. I remember, for whatever reason, I went out and stood beside her. Maybe I was trying to be nice, I’m not sure,” she chuckled, unaware that Bobbie had turned towards her, focusing completely on Monica’s story, drinking in this new story of her daughter. “Anyway, she said it was great sailing weather and I said “sailing?” just like you did now and she looked like she might bite my head off, but hesitated and then she started to tell me about how she loved sailing. She and some local boys, when they were kids, would fix up a little motorboat and take it around their shores. She loved it, the water, the wind, the control. When she got older, she joined the high school sailing club. It was more of a boy’s club,” Monica noted, knowing the feeling of being a woman in a male dominated profession. “That’s where her reputation as being easy started.”
“She told you all this?” Bobbie asked incredulously. Monica let out a laugh, “I know, I couldn’t believe it either. I just shut up and let her talk. It was the longest we’d gone without trading insults.”
“Go on,” Bobbie ushered her.
“Most of the other girls didn’t like the fact that she got along well with the boys. She’d earned their respect and she was a good sailor. There was only on other girl who even tried out for the sailing team in her sophmore year.”
It crystallized for Bobbie in that moment. “Carly Roberts,” she whispered. Of course.
Monica nodded. “They became friends. Did a lot of sailing together. I imagine they shared a lot of wishing and hoping and planning on those waters,” she said wistfully. “It’s the kind of thing you do when you’re young and full of possibility.” She paused, gazing up at the sky thoughtfully. “I don’t know why I didn’t recall that story until now. A sudden warm breeze stirs up and it’s as clear as the day it happened. Never asked her why she told me. AJ came out with Michael and she turned her attention to them and I went back into the house. A month later and she was gone with Michael.”
Bobbie sat, both stunned and cheered by Monica’s tale. A new picture of Carly had been presented to her and all she could do was pore over the details, memorizing how strong her daughter’s spirit was. The quiet serenity was interrupted by insistent barking and then, the voice of the grandson she and Monica loved. “Grandma Monica! Grandma Bobbie! Papa Edward says we have to take the pictures now and he’s getting grumpy and Nana Lila keeps telling him to leave the photo guy alone,” Michael babbled as he ran up towards the two, Rosie hot on his heels.
Bobbie smiled at Monica. “Well, Grandma Monica? Shall we?”
Monica stood and the two women linked arms once more. “Yes, Grandma Bobbie, off we go,” she declared importantly and Michael let out a burst of giggles at the sight of his Grandmas being so silly.
“Thanks Monica.
“You’re welcome.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
“You suck.”
Lorenzo sighed as his niece narrowed her gaze and thought of another way to insult him. “Your hair sucks,” she finally bit out before storming out of the room and down the hall with a flourish. A moment later, the door to her room clattered loudly as she flung it shut. “You suck!” could be heard, faintly before the sounds she called music started up from her state of the art stereo system.
All for denied access to one Lucas Jones.
“Luis, you’d be proud,” Lorenzo murmured as he opened his fridge and took out a bottle of water and held it up towards the ceiling. “She’s been an experiment in sanity preservation, I must say.” After returning to PC from their Stefan imposed isolation from much of the world, he and Sage had gone about normalizing themselves as best as possible. As normal as an arms dealer and his wayward orphaned niece could be.
Sage had returned to school, much to the chagrin of Georgie Jones and delight of Lucas Jones. Lorenzo frowned deeply. The boy screamed trouble. Why couldn’t have Sage stayed interested in Dillon? The boy liked movies, there wasn’t much harm in that. Ahh, but then there’d be Tracy Quartermaine to deal with and he wasn’t much interested in sparring with her.
Then she’d met Lucas Jones.
He’d defended his cousin, Georgie to her in a crowded hall between classes and Sage, drama queen that she was, threw her packet of sugar babies at him and wished him an early death.
Of course, in recounting the story to Lorenzo, her voice had taken on a dream-like quality that unnerved him immensely.
“I thought you despised him?” Lorenzo had queried suspiciously.
“Oh, I do!” Sage insisted. “Loser to the 10th degree,” she declared before her expression softened slightly. “He has really intense eyes,” she added, waving her hands around to help explain her observation. “It’s like you want to look away because he’s being a dick, but you can’t.”
Sensing her Uncle’s confusion and general unhappiness with her revelation, she’d abruptly left the table. “Nevermind, I have homework.”
Lorenzo rubbed his face, frustrated at his current dilemma with Sage. “Either I’m driving her to a defiant pregnancy or something worst,” he said aloud, shuddering at the implication.
“Or neither.”
Lorenzo stilled at the voice. He’d anticipated a visit for some time. He turned towards his bemused cousin. “She’s in a mood,” he explained with a wave of his hand.
Stefan raised his brow knowingly. “Nikolas would curse in Italian. A stream of profanity would angrily pour from his mouth.”
“What was your response?”
Stefan stared purposefully at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo nodded, “of course. Why put wind in the sails, right?”
Stefan said nothing as he took a seat in one of the dining room chairs. Lorenzo took the seat adjacent to him and placed the half full bottle of water on the glass table. “You aren’t at the wedding,” he noted.
Stefan titled his head ever so slightly. “No, I did not attend,” he agreed neutrally.
“Didn’t they invite Bobbie Spencer?”
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t bring you as her guest.”
“She accompanied her son.”
“Lucas was invited by Dillon,” Lorenzo shot back.
“Was he?” Stefan replied in a bored tone.
“It’s why Sage is ticked with me. Lucas wanted her to be his guest but I said no.”
“I see.”
Lorenzo smirked in defeat. “Fine. Keep the pretty secret to yourself.”
Stefan smiled genially before his expression became dour as the reason for his visit came to a head. “I have some troubling news to report to you.”
“Family related?”
“Isn’t it always?”
Lorenzo took a swig of the water. “So tell me.”
“Sophie Germaine.”
Lorenzo’s entire being bristled at the name. “What about her?” he growled.
“Sage is her child, yes?”
“Stefan,” Lorenzo demanded. “What the hell is going on? Is Sophie alive?”
Stefan shook his head. “No. She did have a relationship with both you and Luis, did she not?”
Lorenzo’s face tightened with fury. “So?”
Stefan’s calm demeanor encroached on the volatile nature of Lorenzo carefully. “Did you at any point take it upon yourself to ensure that Sage was Luis’s child?”
“What?”
“She is not. She is your daughter.”
Lorenzo was thunderstruck. He had no reason to doubt Stefan. The Cassadine family told lies easily, but not like this. He placed his hand on his chest. “Sage is-is mine?” he asked with a shaky breath. Stefan nodded. He waited as the news sunk in for Lorenzo. He knew the awe that enveloped a man when he learned that the child he had watched grow, was in fact, his own. It was quite a thing to be witness to.
“How long have you known?”
“A short time,” Stefan lied easily.
Lorenzo frowned. “Keep the pretty lie too.” He narrowed his gaze, settling it firmly on Stefan. He’d deal with the emotional fallout later. “Why did you tell me?”
“Victor Cassadine was my Father’s younger brother, as you know. He was considered a brilliant scientist in his own right. He also had a penchant for siring illegitimate children. We know of at least 13, but there are more.” Stefan leaned forward, his emerald orbs glittering with interest. “A historian from the University of Lisbon had been studying the works of my Uncle, going as far as visiting the sites Victor was rumored to have done some of his research. One site in particular, in Tangier, produced a villa on the outskirts of town. The villa held 3 main bedrooms. One was obviously the master bedroom, one had been modified to a billiards room and the final one, a nursery.”
Lorenzo remained silent as Stefan allowed a pause to pass.
“For twins.” Another pause.
“The historian contacted me through various family channels and we made an arrangement for an excavation of sorts within the residence. A treasure hunt, if you will. Nothing was found in the family home, but in the servants residence, we discovered a private room and in it we found letters.”
“Letters.”
Stefan nodded. “And a marriage license from Portugal. Between your Mother, Alesia and Victor.” Stefan sat back. “Your Father.”
Lorenzo held the gaze for a moment before exploding with laughter. “You think I didn’t already know he was my Father?!” He threw out his hands, “so I’m legitimate now! I’m a real boy! A real Cassadine! Have you got my pendant?” he chortled sarcastically.
Stefan sat, waiting for the dramatics to die down. It would not be prudent to inform his wild-eyed cousin of just how closely he resembled his Father right now.
Lorenzo stood, still boisterous from his outburst. “So, what the hell do I get? Some crappy villa in the seediest city in Morocco? The reputation of my crazy Father?”
“A pharmaceutical company worth billions.”
Lorenzo stopped his tirade, whirling on his heel to face Stefan. “What?”
“Your Father made wise investments and purchases during his youth. You have quite a small fortune to inherit.”
“I’m already rich.”
“You now have another to consider.”
Lorenzo blinked heavily. It was suddenly so clear now. “You want me to stop dealing guns,” he stated. Of course Stefan had to be so formal and vague about the whole thing.
“I am informing you of your options.”
“I’ve always had options.”
Stefan laced his fingers, crossed one leg smoothly over the other and rested his hands on top. “Now they are tangible.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
“So, you push up these three levels to 9, then you adjust these knobs until the sound is crisp and press this entire row of buttons, one after another and then basically all you have to do is adjust the volume accordingly,” Dillon showed off as he demonstrated the sound system for Lucas.
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Looks complicated.”
“It’s not!” Dillon insisted. “It’ll be perfect for when I make films.”
“I thought it was for the wedding.”
“It was!” Dillon smiled as he ran his fingers along the expanse of the control board. “It just happens to be what an up and coming independent filmmaker might use as well.”
He looked out at the socializing crowd and smiled. “It was a pretty nice wedding. AJ’s pulled himself together,” he acknowledged, mimicking Ned’s faint praise of their cousin.
Lucas nodded. “Yeah.”
Dillon turned to his friend, sensing a change in his demeanor. “Oh, right. You must be kinda ticked about the whole thing huh?” Feeling himself botch up his attempt to console his friend, Dillon gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m not very good at this, am I? I’m sorry,” he started before Lucas cut him off quickly.
“It’s okay. I mean, I miss my sister, but I can’t be mad at AJ.”
“Really? I mean, he’s got the wife and family and kids. He’s pretty happy and together now. I know Gia loves him and Michael is getting better. But Carly is dead. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
Lucas heaved a sad sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, it pisses me off my sister is dead. She wanted to be happy and be a good Mom. She just didn’t know how to get there. So she chased Jason for years and then married Sonny.” The bitterness that coloured his tone did not go unnoticed by Dillon.
“You didn’t like them.”
Lucas caught sight of his Mother walking with Monica and shook his head in agreement. “I know Jason did a lot of favors for Carly and I know she was hard to like but whenever I visited her, she never seemed happy. I don’t know, I guess I thought she deserved better and it bugged me that she didn’t think so.” He sat down in a nearby lawn chair. “You know, she always made excuses for Sonny. He’d act like a prick right when I’m there and she’d laugh it off, even though I could see how sad she was. We got into this huge fight once and she told me to butt out of her life and I said I wouldn’t butt into her life if I thought she was happy.”
“Let me guess. She told you to butt out anyway?”
“Yeah.”
Dillon rolled his eyes. “I’ve had that talk with my Mom. She’s pretty tough, but sometimes, she’ll meet a guy and twist herself into a pretzel to make him like her more and I’m like who are you? She just laughs and says she’s a big girl. Of course, he dumps her and then she tries to get him fired from his job or something.”
Lucas laughed. “I wished Carly had done that. Sell the coffee warehouse or something. Too bad she stayed. Of course, she’d cry to Jason about Sonny treating her badly and he’d say stuff like “you really love him” and “you fought so hard for him Carly” or other junk like that. I used to like him, but after that stuff? What a backstabbing jerk. He tried to talk to me at her funeral. I wasn’t going to give him the time of day, I mean, if your friend is being treated like crap by her husband, even if your best friend is that husband, wouldn’t you still tell her to pack her bags and leave? Wouldn’t you? Because Carly would have listened to him. He was the one person she’d listen to and he didn’t do jack.”
“You blame him?”
“She wouldn’t have been there! She would be here if Jason had taken his head of out Sonny’s ass for two seconds and told her the truth! If he’d given a damn about her like he said he did, then she’d be alive, so yeah, I blame him!” Lucas seethed angrily from his seat. Dillon sat quietly next to him, somewhat awed by his friend’s outburst. Obviously, he’d held in his feelings for quite some time. “Does your Mom know you hate Jason?”
“She hates Jason too, but no, I haven’t told her.”
“How come?”
Lucas shrugged. “Probably make her cry more than she already does. I don’t want to do that.”
Dillon nodded. “Yeah, I can respect that.”
Lucas tilted his head back and cast his eyes to the cloudless blue sky. “Mom says that Carly would have done whatever she wanted anyway. Nobody chose to stay with that dickhead except Carly.”
“There’s no fate but what we make for ourselves,” Dillon said sagely.
Lucas paused before the familiarity of the phrase dawned on him. “Dude, that’s from the Terminator.”
Dillon smiled weakly. “Good line. Good movie. Thought it was appropriate.”
Lucas stared at Dillon for a moment, before responding. “T2 was better.”
“Too bad Rise of the Machines sucked ass.”
“Preaching to the choir, bro.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
“Okay. Well, you behave for Alan and Monica. Don’t stay up too late and don’t try to sneak out again. Valeri was really annoyed that he couldn’t break your arm or anything when he caught the two of you on the grounds the last time you boys snuck out, remember?” Bobbie waited patiently as Lucas insisted he would not sneak out again. “I’m trusting you. Okay, I’ll see you sometime before dinner tomorrow. Alright, I love you. Bye.”
Bobbie placed the receiver back in its cradle gently as she finished her call to her son. For the first time in a long while, she had the entire place to herself. What should she do? She wasn’t really tired from the wedding. She’d played with Michael and gotten her share of time with Morgan. She’d even danced with a variety of gracious partners. Now that she was home she was a bit bored. Watch a movie? Nah. Read something? She’d been looking forward to the new Evanovich book, but wasn’t really in the mood to read about Stephanie getting some action when she certainly hadn’t in a long while.
A thought occurred to her. How long had it been? Since before Carly died. Was Roy really the last time? Had it been that long since…
Bobbie shook her head with a laugh. Tea was in order. Chamomile filled to the brim. She quickly set about filling the kettle and placing it on the burner. In a bit, the water would be boiling and she’d take a relaxing bath with cranberry scented candles to light up the bathroom. She’d drink her tea and NOT think about sex. Perfect.
She found her terry cloth bathroom and quickly changed. She took out her special aromatherapy oils and ran the bathwater. She lit the candles and as she shut off the water, heard the kettle down stairs whistling. Perfect timing. As she came down the stairs, she clicked on the answering machine and filled the teapot with the teabags and poured the boiling water into the pot. Placing the lid and tea cozy on, she took her mug and pot back upstairs, placing both at the table she’d set beside the bathtub. Turning to the mirror, she brushed her hair and pulled it up, deciding she’d rather not get it wet this time. As she finished, she turned around and surveyed the scene. The candles lit up the darkened room with a warm glow. The smell of cranberries filled the room and the water looked VERY inviting. Something was missing.
Music!
Into Lucas’s room she went, looking for the new Annie Lennox CD she’d lent him weeks earlier. Finding it still nestling in his CD player, she took it and grabbed the portable one from her bedroom and set in on the counter in the bathroom. She pressed play and soon, Annie’s aching voice echoed softly in the room.
Satisified with the results and eager to settle into the warm water, Bobbie moved to undo the knot in her robe when she suddenly wondered if she’d locked the front door? She paused, furrowing her brow and she went over her movements. “Better check,” she sighed. “I’ll be right back,” she promised the bath.
Down the stairs she went, hopefully for the last time that evening and checked the locks. Yep, she’d secured the house just fine. She turned with a smile and as she placed her bare foot on the first step, the doorbell rang.
“I don’t believe this,” she muttered. Annoyed at the lateness of her visitor she grumbled as she unlocked the door and pulled it open. That feeling evaporated the moment she saw her uninvited guest. Clad in his usual black suit, he nodded respectfully.
“Good evening Barbara, I apologize for the late hour. I have not spoken with you in several days and I wanted to see that all was in order, especially after the wedding at the Quartermaine estate.” Stefan’s voice sent a tingle of anticipation down her spine.
As usual.
He glanced at her outfit and realized he’d interrupted her. “You are retiring for the evening, of course. I will ring at a more appropriate time tomorrow if that is alright?” he apologized, his intense gaze watching her every move. Polite decorum dictated that he remain a respectful distance and keep his eyes to her face, but he found it increasingly difficult to remain simply polite.
“No, it’s alright,” Bobbie replied, finally finding her voice. She studied him carefully as every nerve ending in her quavered knowingly. “I was just making tea. Why don’t you come in?”
Stefan entered and shut the door behind him.
“Lock it, please.”
Stefan complied.
“We’ve had some burglaries recently. Can never be to careful,” Bobbie said quickly and Stefan nodded agreeably.
He looked to the darkened living room, expectantly. Something was different.
“Oh, the tea!” Bobbie exclaimed. “It’s upstairs actually, in the bathroom. I was actually going to take a bath.”
“I see.”
Bobbie gazed at him evenly and he returned the stare unflinching. The air around them charged with expectation. A lot had gone on in the months since Carly’s death. Some good and some bad and some were just unreadable, as if waiting patiently for the moment to reveal itself.
In all the months of Stefan being her confidante and friend, she had often thought back to the time when they were married. She’d never dwelled on it too much. An ache would begin to fester at her and she’d abruptly stop thinking about it.
But it would never go away.
And now, it revealed itself as something more.
“Would you care for some tea? I’m sure it’s ready.”
“That would be lovely.”
Bobbie was suddenly glad the bath had room for two.
*~*~*~*~*~*