Chapter Six

This entry is part 6 of 34 in the The Best Thing

All this time we were waiting for each other
All this time I was waiting for you
We got all these words, can’t waste them on another
So I’m straight in a straight line running back to you
– All This Time, OneRepublic


Friday, February 12, 2005

New York City

Waldorf Astoria Hotel: Jason’s Suite

When Elizabeth had seen Jason’s name on the RVSP list the gallery had sent her earlier that week, her first thought had been to murder her best friend.

Emily staunchly told her that she had honestly not convinced Jason to go. He had decided on his own. Elizabeth wanted to believe that, but she knew her best friend better.

She raised her hand to knock on the suite door and hesitated when a bright, bouncy young blonde woman pulled open the door. “Hi!”

“Uh.” She blinked. Why was it always blondes? “Hello. I…” She couldn’t have the wrong room. Nikolas had rented the entire floor. “I’m looking for Jason.”

“Oh. He’s just giving Evie her breakfast.” The woman stuck out her hand. “I’m Nora Rogers.”

Nora. The nanny. Right. “Elizabeth Webber,” she replied, gingerly shaking it.

Nora’s green eyes widened, and her smile deepened. “The artist Mr. Morgan is here to see! Oh, it’s so awesome! I’m from New York, you know, but I have never stayed at a hotel so amazing!” She stepped away from the door and waved Elizabeth in. “Come in, I’ll go get Mr. Morgan.”

Nora had disappeared into another room before Elizabeth could protest. How did Jason put up with such cheerfulness? She could practically see the exclamation points over the woman’s head.

A few seconds later, Jason emerged from the room. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Elizabeth hesitated, because now she couldn’t quite remember why she had stopped by. She should have talked to him in Port Charles, thanked him there instead of coming to his room, but everything had been so hectic these last two weeks. “I…stopped by to thank you for coming. I…didn’t think you would.”

“Yeah.” Jason looked slightly uncomfortably. He glanced over her shoulder at the still open door, where they could hear Nora’s voice wafting through. He took her by the elbow across the room and through another doorway into what looked like his bedroom. He closed the door. “I talked to Emily.”

Elizabeth huffed. “I knew it. She swore she had nothing to do with it, but she’s a Quartermaine. They somehow lie and tell the truth at the same time—”

He held up a hand. “No. I mean, yeah, she did kind of…she made me realize that…” He dipped his head and looked at the floor for a moment before raising it back and meeting her eyes. “We say we’re friends again. We talk. But you didn’t think you could even invite me tonight because I might feel obligated to show up.”

“I…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s just…it’s not your thing, you know? And I know you…might come just to…” She shrugged and looked away, over his shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess…I’m out of practice being part of your life.”

“And my first instinct was to not come,” Jason admitted. “But I really am happy for you. About tonight. And not that long ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to accept. This is important to you, and you…” He paused, and his voice changed a little. “You are important to me.”

Oh, hell. She was really going to murder Emily now. Making her admit that there was still…something here—even though Elizabeth was convinced it was residual and would go away if she just ignored it—made her more aware of it when it happened.

But that stupid, ridiculous flutter had been ignored for years and yet, there it was. It had survived despite her repeated attempts to drown it.

Nervous, she licked her lips. “I wanted you to come,” she admitted. “Because I…you were one of the first people to believe in me. Apart from Lucky. Even when you didn’t understand the paintings. So…I’m glad you came.”

She broke eye contact, because her stomach was rolling and almost doing somersaults. “Anyway…that’s why I’m here.”

“Okay.” He looked slightly relieved that she had changed the topic, which confused her because hadn’t he drowned out those feelings, too?

Bad road. Stay off that road. She cleared her throat. “So…I’ll just go—”

“Did Emily talk to you about Nora?” Jason stepped in front her as she headed toward the door. “She told me your grandmother and brother were going to split baby-sitting Cameron, and she thought if…you were okay with it, Nora could look after him.”

“Oh.” Surprised, Elizabeth rocked back on her heels. “I, ah, that would be…if she doesn’t mind. And if Cam likes her, though he likes almost everyone. He even liked Tracy—” Stop rambling. “I have to be at the gallery at six, but the opening doesn’t start until seven, so maybe Em or Steve could drop him off before they leave…” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “If she’s really okay with it.”

“She said it was fine. She was going to be here anyway with Evie because I didn’t want to leave her overnight.”

They just stared at one another for a minute before she offered a nervous smile. “So. Okay. I’ll go now—I have some things to do—”

He nodded and pulled open the door, stepping back to allow her to leave the bedroom. “I-I’ll see you tonight.”

She nodded and escaped the suite before this became even worse. Stupid flutters. Stupid change in his voice. His stupid eyes and the way he always looked at her.

Stupid girl for letting Emily open this door and then walking right on through it. This was only going to end in disaster, as it had the other eight thousand times they had walked down this road.

Why should this time be any different?

Harris Gallery: Front Room

She had once been a brilliant actress, able to paste a genuine smile on her face at the drop of hat. It had come in handy during her brief modeling career, though the camera had pretty much loathed her.

As another person came up to her to admire her brilliant work and then ask for more details behind the painting with the red shoe, or how about the one with the flames, she thought the smile might crack.

The door opened and she almost groaned in relief as she saw her grandmother’s silver hair and her brother’s curls stepping into the lobby. “Excuse me,” she murmured to someone waxing poetic about the hidden subtexts in one of her San Francisco landscapes.

“Gram!” She embraced Audrey fiercely. “Thank God you’re finally here.”

“What’s wrong, Bits?” Steven asked as Elizabeth turned to hug him. “Not enjoying your fame?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather no one knew who I was, but so far everyone has been nice.” She grinned when she saw Lucky and his girlfriend, Leyla Mir. “Hey, good lookin’.”

“Hey, you.” Lucky wrapped his arms around her tightly, and into her ear, he whispered, “This is everything I ever dreamed for you, you know? I am so goddamn proud of you, Elizabeth.” He drew back, and for just a moment, Elizabeth let herself be that girl again.

“It’s so exciting,” Leyla murmured in her delicate British accent. She wrapped her arm through Lucky’s. “Shall we look around?”

“Yes, yes.” Elizabeth waved her hand. “Mingle. Don’t crowd me or people will think I’m someone worth talking to.”

Emily and Nikolas entered next, with Jason just behind them. Emily’s eyes took in the high ceilings of the room and the canvases on the wall. “Holy crap, Elizabeth. You’re a real artist now.”

Elizabeth laughed and hugged her tightly. “I know. People are calling me brilliant and saying I’m the next fill in a name of an artist I can never possibly hope to emulate.” She turned to Nikolas. “Thank you so much for coming, and for the hotel, Nikolas—”

“Only the best for the next most famous artist.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m going to take Emily and we’re going to buy something for my office so everyone will envy my Webber original.”

“Oh, no…you don’t have to—” Elizabeth sighed as the two just smiled and started down towards one of the displays. “Bastards,” she muttered under her breath.

She turned to her last visitor and that freaking flutter started again. Jason Morgan in a leather jacket and t-shirt was hot enough, but in a suit? There was no equal.

She took in his hesitant stance and stepped forward. “You clean up nice.” She leaned up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for dressing up. I know you hate it.”

“It’s…only for a few hours.” He smiled. “You look…” He glanced at her strapless black dress that fell to her knees and her silver sandal heels. “You look beautiful, Elizabeth.”

Hell. The way he always said her name. She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it. “Thank you.” She reached, out of habit, to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear but none had escaped the knot of curls at the base of her neck. “Um. So I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

She looped her arm through his and steered him deeper in the room. “So people are coming up to me, you know, because they know I’m the artist, but they’re asking all these deep, personal questions about why I painted some of the things I did…a-and I don’t want to answer them.”

“I can tell them to go away if you want,” Jason said in a tone so serious that she knew he was telling the truth.

She laughed. “No, I think…if I just stick with you, people won’t even bother coming near me.” She arched her brow at him. “You’re pretty intimidating, you know.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he said with a nod. “So you just want to use me?”

“Would you mind?” She asked with a bright smile. “I’m glad people like the paintings, but like I told my brother, I’d rather people didn’t know who I was. It’s not about me. It’s about the work.”

“I don’t mind.” He hesitated. “But you have to do something for me.”

Just this once, she wanted him to be the kind of guy who might ask for something completely indecent in return, because with the way he was looking her, she would definitely agree.

“You know…I have trouble with the paintings, so if you could…” He gestured towards the walls. “Tell me some of them. So I could understand them. Like you did with the Wind, remember?”

And just like that, Elizabeth stopped fighting the battle.

Maybe she wasn’t still in love with Jason Morgan, but she could see it happening again. And for some reason, in this moment, it didn’t seem so terrifying.

“Absolutely.” She nodded. “Where do you want to start?”

“How about with one of your favorites?” he asked.

“Sure.” She steered him into the next room and stopped in front of a canvas that still made her chest tighten when she saw it. “So this one…It’s called Anticipation. Do you see the peach and grays? They come out of the lower left corner and reach into the middle of the painting.”

He nodded, and squinted “Yeah.” He hesitated and looked at her. “Are…they hands?”

She beamed. “Yes! There’s a shadow in the upper right, coming towards them. It’s my hands reaching out for Cameron right after he was born, but just before I held him.”

She closed her eyes remembering that moment. “Everything just…bubbled up inside of me. I was so ready, so incredibly focused on being a mother. I was ecstatic and I was terrified because this little boy was going to depend on me for so much. I was sad because I was alone, but then I realized I would never be alone again.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him to find him staring at her intently. “It’s the moment I think I really grew up and realized that absolutely everything in my life that led me to this point was so worth it. The pain, the trauma, the good times, the bad. If it brought me to my beautiful little boy, there isn’t a single thing I would take back. I had no more regrets, because if I regretted something, it meant I regretted him.” She cleared her throat, feeling her eyes almost burning with the memory. “I have never loved anyone in my entire life the way I love my son, Jason. I know you know what I mean.”

“I-I do.” He hesitated and glanced back at the canvas, as if seeing it for the first time. “I didn’t…consider Michael my son the first time I held him, but I knew he was dependent on me and I…didn’t know what came next. But it…” He paused. “It also reminds me of Sam.”

“Yeah?” She reached down and twined their fingers together. “When Evie was born?”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, and his voice faltered a bit before he could begin again. “She held her just once, you know? I had-I had to help because she was so weak, but she wanted to hold her. So one day, I can tell Evie that her mother loved her so much that she used what was left of her strength to touch her, to kiss her and promise her she would always be with her.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, grateful for tear-proof mascara. “I can’t imagine the pain Sam must have been feeling, knowing…she would never have more than that one moment.”

“People…I know they think Sam and I…that we were…we weren’t, but we were friends. And that moment…it’s why I promised her. Sonny and Carly…would not raise Evie up to remember Sam. Not…the way she should know her. They tell Michael AJ is someone to be scared of, to run from.”

He hesitated. “AJ’s…he’s not…he would never hurt Michael. He might not…be a good person most of the time, but I know he’s not cruel or malicious, but that’s how Michael thinks of him. As a monster.” He shook his head. “I can’t let Evie think that after everything Sam did to protect her.”

“Even though it created more problems with Sonny?” Elizabeth asked softly. “Even if it means you might…lose her one day?”

“I’m not…blind. I know Sonny might…come for her. That it’s more likely than not,” Jason admitted. “But what am I supposed to do, Elizabeth? Not love her? Not honor my promise to Sam? I promised Carly to take care of Michael, and I kept it until they wouldn’t let me.” He dipped his head down. “Sonny…he’s important to me, but I can’t…I can’t ignore why Sam did what she did.”

“He must have hurt her so much,” Elizabeth murmured. “Made her feel like she could never measure up.”

“Yeah.” His voice nearly hoarse. “He’s not…he’s not a good father, Elizabeth. Not…lately. And not for a long time. He sees Michael and Morgan as possessions, not as people. I wanted better for Michael once, because that’s how the Quartermaines would have seen him, but now…”

“You can protect Evie from that for as long as you’re able.” She pressed her forehead to the sleeve of his dark jacket. “She’s in the best place possible, and it’s going to make all the difference, Jason.”

She cleared her throat and stepped back a little. “Let’s….go look at some of the landscapes from San Francisco. They’re…boring. Which means they’re less depressing.”

“It’s…” Jason stopped her as she would have pulled him away. “I didn’t mean to make you think…this is your favorite and—”

“It still is. It just…it means something happy for me, but it means something sad for you. That’s art.” She tightened her grip on his hand as if to reassure him. “The same painting can have different meanings depending on who looks at it. So…let me show you a painting I did of Alcatraz and you can tell me what it was like to visit it.”

Harris Gallery: Front Room

Emily tried to crane her head around the corner to see Jason and Elizabeth talking, but she just couldn’t manage it. They had disappeared into the back room of the gallery nearly twenty minutes ago and she was peeved she couldn’t watch their progress.

But maybe it was for the best. She had gone to great lengths to create this opportunity, risked both their wraths and it seemed to have paid off. If they didn’t see the scorching hot sparks they set off when they saw each other tonight, well…God, Emily didn’t even want to know them. Idiots.

“You know,” Nikolas said, with a deep sigh, “I think I always knew Elizabeth must be amazing, but I never…really saw anything she did, beyond sketches for the Nurse’s Ball or for fun. These are…”

“Breathtaking.” Emily turned her attention to the canvases in front of her. “I would have pretended to like them even if I didn’t because I love her, but I don’t have to. These are incredible.”

“I don’t know which one to pick.” He gestured toward the one in front of them. It was a woman in a bed, the shadows keeping her features vague and her setting undefined, but the woman, with her head in her hands, emitted a stark sense of isolation and loss. “When…do we know which moment this is?”

“I was in San Francisco when she was finishing it. She was in therapy for a while this summer,” Emily admitted. “After a session, she came home and did this one—she’s waking up from her pulmonary embolism and she’s telling Capelli about Carly and the panic room.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, I don’t want that one on my wall.” He turned, his arm around Emily’s waist and on the wall directly behind him…

Nikolas stopped, and she watched the muscles in his throat shift as he swallowed hard. “What?” she began, as she focused on the winter scene. It was the stone fountain and benches of the park.

And a lone red shoe, with its heel snapped off and lying next to it, carelessly strewn between the fountain and the dark vastness of the greenery behind the bench.

And somehow, Emily felt like she was the painting. She knew this moment. Had been present for parts of Elizabeth’s recovery. “Nikolas—”

“I told…Lucky the truth about Luke and Laura right there,” he murmured. “I didn’t—I didn’t know about Elizabeth then, you know. I wouldn’t have told him at all if I had known why he was so angry. Or maybe I would. It’s hard…to remember those days before we were really brothers. Before we were friends. But I told him right near the spot he had found her crawling out of the bushes…that his father had done that to Laura once. Just to get back at him for throwing my father’s abuse in my face.”

“Nikolas…” She sighed. “He doesn’t…it’s past us now. Luke and Lucky are close, sort of.”

“I can’t…How can she stand to paint these moments? Of the worst moments in her life? How can she stand in this room, looking excited and smile while evidence of her tragedies surround her?” He looked at her, his eyes dark with pain. “How can she be so goddamn strong, Emily, when just one of these memories would break anyone else?”

“Because she’s amazing,” Emily answered softly. “And this is her way of letting those moments go. Of putting them in her past and moving forward.” She saw out of the corner of her eye her brother and Elizabeth walk out of the back room, toward the row of landscapes. Her arm was looped through his, and they were talking, even smiling.

“Look at her, Nikolas. She’s picked herself up again after last year, and she’s going to be happy again. Look at them and tell me I’m insane for thinking they work.”

Nikolas reluctantly followed her gaze, and sighed. His eyes softened. “I know you’re not. And…being surrounded by all the horrors she’s emerged from…I want her to be happy again. If it’s with your brother, then…that’s the way it’ll be. I just…don’t want her to have another reason to cry.”

“I love you.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his cheek. “So…you want to check out some of the views she did from Vista Point? There’s one or two of Spoon Island somewhere, I think—”

“No…” Nikolas pulled her toward another canvas, on the far side of the wall. “I think I know this one a bit.” This scene depicted burning candles in the foreground on an altar, and church pews in the shadowy background, with two people comforting one another in the front row. “It’s the hospital chapel.”

“It’s the night I almost died,” Emily told him. Elizabeth had had the preliminary sketches in her studio in San Francisco, but this was the first time she’d seen the finished product. “It’s Jason and Elizabeth in the chapel. She told me it was the first time they’d been…friends again after everything that had happened since they broke up.”

“I thought it was from your cancer…” He hesitated, unsure how to finish it. “And…even knowing it’s them, I think I want it anyway. Because I see us in it. I see me lying on a hospital bed in the next room, praying for the chance to see you again. Even if you wouldn’t be with me…just to have you in the world would be enough.”

She just pressed her forehead to his shoulder and was quiet for a moment. “God, it seems so far away right now, after everything that’s happened this last year.”

Clearing her throat, Emily glanced over her shoulder and saw Elizabeth laugh, lightly punching Jason in the shoulder. He grinned back at her. “I…didn’t meddle too much with them, did I?”

Nikolas frowned. “No. I don’t…I mean what did you really even do? You introduced Liz to Evie. You brought Cam to Jason’s. You were always going to invite them both to the birthday party. You talked her into inviting him tonight, and him into coming. You just…” He chuckled. “You created opportunities.”

“I just…they were so far apart. I wasn’t sure if they would seek one another out.” She rolled her shoulders. “I think…maybe I’ve done what I needed to do for now.”

“Good. If you try too hard, it might…feel like too much pressure.” Nikolas patted her hip. “I’d like to see Elizabeth have less of these kinds of moments to paints, so if Jason can help with that…I’m not opposed.”

Harris Gallery: Across the Room

“I do miss living in a city on the ocean,” Elizabeth admitted as she finished described a painting of Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. “I know…we have the lake and the river that flows to the ocean, but it’s not even remotely the same thing.”

“The beach on the island is nice,” Jason admitted. “But you said you came back for the snow. You don’t get that living on the ocean.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I would if I lived in Maine, but yeah.” She sighed. “Well, maybe I’ll go back to San Francisco for a few weeks this summer, though…” She hesitated. “If I make enough money from this showing, maybe I’ll…take Cameron to Italy. He won’t be old enough to appreciate it, but…”

“You should take him. He won’t remember it, but he’ll know you’re happy.” Jason’s shoulder brushed her bare skin as he turned his attention from the painting to her. “That makes a difference.”

“You told me once that babies can sense everything around them.” She tapped his chest lightly. “I’m glad I paid so much attention to you in those days, because I feel like I learned a lot about being a parent.”

He grabbed her finger in his hand before she could tap him again. “You didn’t need my help. I knew you were going to be an amazing mother.”

Her cheeks burning, Elizabeth smiled and looked away. She hesitated when she saw a dark-haired man walking towards them, his arm around the waist of a blonde woman she recognized from the hospital. A nurse who looked apprehensive. They were the first people to approach her in nearly an hour.

She sighed. “I guess you’re not as intimidating as I hoped.”

Jason frowned. “What—” He stopped suddenly as he saw the couple. His body tensed. “I know him.”

“And I know her. She works at the hospital.”

The couple stepped up to them, and the man angled himself slightly in front of the woman. “Jason, I…thought it would be for the best if I didn’t pretend I didn’t see you.” He cleared his throat. “I mean…since you know the artist…” He glanced at Elizabeth and hesitantly held out his hand. “Johnny Zacchara. I…sometimes work with Jason. Or at least, my father does.”

Ah. Elizabeth bit her lip but accepted the hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for coming.” She looked at the blonde. “I know you from General Hospital. I think I saw you at the Christmas Party.”

“This is Nadine Crowell. Nadine, Jason Morgan,” Johnny said.

“Hi,” Nadine said, and for a moment it looked like she wanted to say something else, but closed her mouth.

“I didn’t…” Johnny used his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking nervous. Jason still hadn’t said a word. “Things are…look, it doesn’t need to be a thing. I like art. I go to a lot of showings—this was a coincidence—”

“It’s fine,” Jason said, his voice firm. “It…happens. Thank you for…letting me know you were here.”

“Right.” Johnny hesitated and looked back at Elizabeth. “Your work is really great. We’re having a good time.”

“I like the landscapes,” Nadine said, her voice overly bright because she was clearly nervous. “The…one of the Golden Gate Bridge is really pretty.” She winced. “I mean, impressive. Or some other art word I don’t…” She looked to Johnny, looking out of her depth. “What do I mean?”

“You mean it’s pretty,” Elizabeth said with assuring smile. “I’m not particularly attached to those, but landscapes tend to sell well. It’s a nice area to see.” Unsure if she was supposed to continue to make small talk, she cleared her throat. “Have-have you been?”

“Nope. Born and raised in Ohio until I moved to New York for nursing school. I just moved to Port Charles because I wanted to live—” Nadine closed her mouth and flushed. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t…” She sighed and looked at her companion. “Johnny, you never told me what I’m supposed to say.”

Elizabeth nudged Jason as if to somehow make this go away. The poor girl was clearly unused to meeting Johnny’s associates and was trying to do what was right by him.

Jason looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. He merely let out a small breath of exasperation. “Johnny, it’s really fine. You’re known for hanging out in New York.” He looked at Nadine. “You’re doing fine. Just next time, don’t volunteer personal information to people he hasn’t briefed you on.” Then he looked at Johnny. “And don’t let her walk into a situation cold like this again. You came up to me.”

Johnny blinked, but nodded. “Fair enough.” He looked at to Nadine. “Sorry.”

“I told you,” she was telling him as he led her away.

“That was very nice of you to give them relationship advice,” Elizabeth said with a wicked smile. “Jason Morgan, couples counselor.”

He huffed. “He had no business bringing her over here without…” He rubbed his forehead. “I mean, he was right to come over. If I…knew he was here and hadn’t say anything, it’s… just the stupid kind of thing people would point to later as…” He shook his head.

“I know you can’t really tell me much, but maybe…is he friend or foe?” Elizabeth asked, steering him towards a corner where their words wouldn’t be overheard.

“Somewhere…in the middle. His father’s lawyer is Trevor Lansing.”

Elizabeth blinked. “As in…Ric Lansing?” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s probably not good.”

“It doesn’t help,” he admitted. “I guess…I know why Johnny’s been hanging around Port Charles lately. We…thought it might be a girlfriend.” He looked pained. “I’m sorry…he came over to me while you were there—”

She shrugged. “He seemed harmless, and Nadine was nice. No harm, no foul.”

“I just…” He rolled his shoulders and looked away, and she followed his gaze, toward the other side of the room where Johnny Zacchara and his date were standing, looking at another painting. They were whispering furiously to one another, and she could see the blonde looked annoyed. “I hate when this…kind of thing touches you.”

Story of her life. Five seconds after she admitted to herself the feelings she had for him were something a bit more than residual, he had to start this nonsense.

“You’ve been singing that tune almost since the day we met.” She folded her arms underneath her breast and scowled up at him. “We’re not really going to do this again, are we?”

“I—”

“Because if we’re going to be in each other’s lives again, I do not want to be constantly waiting for the second shoe to drop, to find out you think it’s too dangerous—”

He held up a hand. “I wasn’t…” Jason hesitated. “I know…why you think I’d say that, but I…I don’t…I’m raising an infant on my own, Elizabeth. Do you think I’d have a leg to stand on?”

“Exactly.” She arched her brow. “I didn’t let you get away with it when I was eighteen, so don’t think it’ll work any better now. I’m even more annoying.” She jabbed a finger at him. “So just remember that.”

A reluctant smile spread across his lips, and he offered a light chuckle. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m likely to forget it.”

“Good.” She looked over to see her grandmother beckoning her close, a few strangers at her side. “I’m going to need your intimidation skills again. Looks like Gram wants to introduce me to people.” She sighed. “I hate people.”

“No, you don’t,” Jason said, even as they started across the room. “You just don’t like answering their questions.”

“Not much of a difference tonight,” she grumbled, but kept her arm firmly wrapped around his bicep. “I just have to remember…they’re here to fund my future. If they like enough of my work, I can start a house fund for me and Cameron.”

When they arrived in front of her grandmother, Audrey barely batted an eye at her escort, though the couple looked a bit flustered. “And this is my brilliant granddaughter…”

Elizabeth pasted a smile on her face as Audrey continued. This was everything she ever wanted, but she would have preferred to stay anonymous.

She glanced up at Jason, who was doing an excellent job of looking menacing without being dangerous. She was so glad to have him back in her life.

Anyway she could have him.

Comments

  • loved it. so glad that Liz has her moment and that Jason was there for her.

    According to Nicole Barnes on July 2, 2014
  • And this is why i love those two, comfortable and awkward at the same time. Their history shines through in everything, while they also have grown seperatly.
    Very much enjoyed Emily and Nicholas seeing both the reason why Liz painted the scene and what it meant for them. Welcome back, you’ve been missed.

    According to Aradia on July 3, 2014
  • loved the update they are such a confounding twosome but I love them. I like Emily and Nic here also. The paintings were a good way to explain some history two great examples of her misery turned around.

    can’t wait to read more

    According to PAMELA HEDSTROM on July 5, 2014