September 2003

Sonny’s Island

Elizabeth flicked the on button to answer her cell phone and rolled over onto her stomach. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Sonny said. “How’s the weather down there?”

“Still warm as ever,” Elizabeth replied. She tipped her sunglasses down to peer at the setting sun. “How’s Port Charles?”

“It’s…the same. Emily and Nikolas are engaged–did she tell you that?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah, she called me last night–fifteen seconds after she’d answered his question.” Elizabeth traced her fingers in the sand. “Ric moved to New York yet?”

“Not yet. It’s been made clear to him that you’re not coming home until he’s gone but I don’t think he’s getting the point. It’s probably better that you’re away right now.”

“I like it down here,” Elizabeth admitted. “But two months of sitting around and just–relaxing…it gets old quick, you know? I miss my friends, my life. I needed the time away from everything but I’m ready to come home.”

Sonny nodded. “Whenever you want, the plane is ready to bring you back.”

“I appreciate you letting me use the cottage down here,” Elizabeth told him. “Maybe another week or so – I’ll come home.”

“Right, right. Did I tell you my lawyer is dating AJ?” Sonny grimaced. “There’s no accounting for her taste.”

“Robyn’s a good lawyer–and AJ’s not the idiot of old,” Elizabeth reminded him. She sat up and tugged at the top of her bikini. “As long as she keeps you out of jail, what do you care?”

“But…AJ…” Sonny shook his head.

“How’s…Jason?” Elizabeth finally decided to ask. “I mean–after Courtney and all…?”

“He’s still quiet–still keeps to himself. He’s been going back to Jake’s a lot, riding his bike–doing the things he did after he lost Michael and Robin,” Sonny admitted. “Carly’s been restricted to bed rest or else she’d be following him around, trying to make him talk.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Sonny…why don’t you send that plane tomorrow?”

Jake’s

Coleman stood behind the bar, nursing a beer as he watched Jason Morgan get into his third fight of the night. He couldn’t complain–the man acted as his unofficial bouncer. No one messed with the bar with the reputation it had of being Jason’s hangout.

And anything the man broke–he paid for. Couldn’t ask for much more than that.

When Elizabeth Webber entered the bar, she stood back on the fringes of the crowd and waited for Jason to finish his fight and return to the pool table.

She pushed out of the crowd and grabbed a pool cue “Is there room for someone else?” she asked.

He turned and stared at her–his eyes narrowing at the familiar outfit she wore. Her hair was teased back, she wore a pair of black jeans and a black tank top. If he wasn’t sure he hadn’t drank enough to impair his vision, he might have thought he was staring at an Elizabeth from four years ago.

“I thought you were on the island,” he said after a moment.

“I flew back this morning.” Elizabeth chalked the cue and set the pool balls up to break them. “Sonny told me you were hanging out here again.”

He shrugged. “People mind their own business here and those who don’t….”

“Deal with you.” Elizabeth nodded and lifted the cue so she could break. The balls scattered across the table and he was mildly surprised when she sunk three balls at the first shot. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Obviously.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So what are you doing here?”

“Trying to find trouble.” She smirked. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to forget,” he answered honestly. “What do you need trouble for?”

She lined up her next shot and muttered something under her breath when she missed. “I’ve spent two months on Sonny’s island–waiting for my divorce to be final–on my terms. I turned down alimony, support, the house–I turned it all down because I just want him out of my life and those things keep him there. I’m waiting for him to sign the papers and move out of town.”

“He hasn’t signed yet?” Jason asked, surprised.

“He signed this morning. I believe I have Johnny to thank–for a little bit of extra persuasion.” She shrugged. “So–after he signed, I thought–I thought I’d feel a little better. Like–whatever’s been hanging over my head will be gone. It’s been three months since the miscarriage, two since the trial–and I should be feeling better.”

“Just because you should feel something–doesn’t mean it’s wrong that you don’t,” Jason told her.

“It’s not that I feel something–it’s that I feel…nothing.” She eyed him. “Do you remember what nothing feels like?”

“Yeah–” he nodded and suddenly, his throat felt thick. “Yeah, that’s pretty much where I live.”

She set the pool cue down and held out her hand. “You want to see how I escape?”

He found a smile in him at that point and he took her hand. “You’re not driving.”

She pouted. “Spoilsport.”

 

THE END

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