October 14, 2022

October Spotlight: Everytime & The Witness, Prologue – Chapter 5

Happy Friday! I write to you from my sofa as I watch my beloved Phillies in Game 3 of the NLDS. This week definitely got away from me — on Sunday, I woke up with a vicious head cold that lingered well into the middle of the week, putting me behind in literally everything (after I just got caught up, boo!).  AND RHYS HOSKINS JUST HIT A 3 RUN HOME RUN! LET’S GOOOOO!!!!

*coughs* anyway.

HOLY SHIT BRYCE HARPER JUST HIT A 2 RUN HOME RUNNNN

….i’m gonna come back and do this during a commercial.

Okay, I’m back. We’re in awesome shape. 6-0 and Aaron Nola is pitching like a champ. Let me get through this 😛

Flash Fiction Change

We’re cutting Friday night out of the schedule for a few weeks because I’m struggling to maintain it. I’m also cutting The Last Time out of Flash Fiction. The last few parts have felt really stilted, and I think it’s not a story that’s doing well as a Flash Fiction series anymore. I’m going to finish it in my off time, edit the first few parts and then post it.

Watch Me Burn WILL return this Sunday if I have to set myself on fire.

When Fridays return in November, I’ll be bringing back Invisible Strings.  I have two four day weekends in November which starts that run into December. I’ll be finishing up the second 7th & 8th grade rotation of 30 days and the 4th rotation of 6th graders which means (with any luck) I’ll be in a good swing of things.

Spotlight

I had a reader make a suggestion that I “repost” my older stories, mostly because they (and I) were surprised when neither of the sequels (Burn in Heaven and Malice) didn’t have much of an audience because the OG stories are pretty old at this point. Since it’s Crimson Glass’s 20th anniversary, I thought it might be a good idea to find a way to both revisit older stories and talk about writing them and give you guys something to read for the first time or revisit on days when I don’t post.

Right now, they’ll be on Fridays, but once Flash Fiction comes back, I’ll put it on Wednesdays, I think. Or maybe Saturdays. We’ll consider it. First up are too older stories from my early 20s — check them out on the new Spotlight page.

October 7, 2022

Update Link: The Last Time, Scenes 34-36

Ugh, this week. My doctor changed my medicine, and wanted me to take two days off to clear the old script out of my system, so now everything hurts like hell. But I get to start the new meds tonight, so should be feeling better this weekend — and I have Monday off, so definitely yay for that.

I made some decent headway last week into being ready for this week, and I’m glad you guys enjoyed the chapters from Counting Stars’ beta draft. I’m digging into that this weekend, and with any luck, I’ll be finishing up sometime on Monday. A little off schedule, but that’s no worry. I’d love to have the whole thing completely done before I start posting, but as long as the beta changes are made, I’m pretty happy. I might still have it completely proof read and scheduled before November 7 — there’s a four day weekend the first weekend of November that should make a difference.

I really wanted to have started drafting Kismet by now, but my energy just hasn’t been there. That’s another project I’m planning to spend some time with this weekend.

I should be good to go to bring back Watch Me Burn on Sunday. I’m looking forward to getting back into that. See you then!

This entry is part 10 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 55 minutes.


34
This is the last time I say it’s been you all along

Elizabeth’s energy was flagging by the time Jason pulled up to the curb at her grandmother’s. She was relieved to see that her car, which she’d driven to the church, was parked in the driveway just as Jason had promised.

“I should have brought you home earlier,” Jason said with a wince as he helped her out of the car and steadied her over a leftover patch of ice on the sidewalk. He kept a hand at the small of her back as they walked towards the house.

“I’m fine,” she promised. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t take care of—”

“But Kelly said—”

“Light bed rest,” Elizabeth finished. She stopped at the door and smiled at him. “She didn’t want me working doubles. I’m off the schedule, and Epiphany is putting me on paperwork when I go back next week.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve got it handled. You can take care of yourself—”

“But you worry,” she finished. She touched his forearm and their eyes met. “I wanted to be there today. For you and Emily. I’m glad I could be.”

“Me, too.” He opened his mouth, then hesitated for a moment. “Monica—you heard her invite me to the will reading. Um—would you—I mean—”

“I’ll go with you,” Elizabeth agreed almost instantly, even though her own conscience was twinging at her. Was it really a good idea to spend so much time with Jason? To be at his side as he grieved his father? They were friends, and she wanted to keep the easy, almost effortless connection they’d shared today—it reminded her of the early days of their relationship, when they’d been able to talk about anything and everything under the sun. But it also made her want more. To wish she’d said yes even no had been the better answer.

But Jason had always—always— been there for her, even when it hadn’t been easy. She wouldn’t turn away now just to make it easier for herself.

“I have an appointment with Kelly,” Elizabeth said. “Next week,” she added. “It’s the third trimester check-in—um, I thought you might want to go.”

“Of course,” Jason said immediately, and she was happy to see some of the lingering grief easing from his expression at the thought of the baby. His eyes dropped to her belly, peeking through the folds of the coat she’d left unbuttoned after leaving the Quartermaines. The baby shifted, and Elizabeth reached for his hand so he could feel the kick. Jason smiled, his hand warm against her body. “What does that feel like?” he wanted to know.

“You’ve been kicked in the ribs, haven’t you?” she said dryly, and his smile deepened into a grin.

“Just three more months,” he murmured. His hand fell away, and they stared at one another for another moment before Elizabeth finally cleared her throat and reached into her purse for her keys.

“I should get inside,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

35
This is the last time I let you in my door

The lawyer had no sooner closed his mouth then Tracy had turned to Jason with a scowl etched into her already permanently sour features. “At least you broke up with the gold digger,” she snipped.

Monica narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, but Tracy had already looked at her next victim, the quietly weeping Skye Chandler-Quartermaine. “And you! You’re not part of this family!” She got to her feet. “How dare he leave anything to you—”

“Tracy,” Edward said gruffly, struggling to his feet. “Don’t start—”

“ELQ should stay in the family,” Tracy cut in sharply. “I told you years ago—”

“Those shares were Alan’s to distribute as he pleased,” Monica retorted. “You have no right—”

Emily leaned back in her chair as the fight continued, rolling her eyes. “Dad had to know he was going to make Tracy’s head explode,” she said dryly to Jason, and to Elizabeth. Jason grimaced. While he’d come around on most of the Quartermaines, he’d had limited exposure to Tracy. And didn’t care for her.

“It was lovely of Alan to leave something to his grandchildren,” Elizabeth said, squeezing Emily’s hand. “I’m just sorry there’s not a way to change it for you—”

“It’s fine. I have my own shares for whatever kids I have,” Emily said. “But it’s great that your baby gets to have something from Dad, isn’t it?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” He was still reeling from the rest of the bequest — Alan had left large trust funds for all four of  his children — and the lawyer had corrected himself — that the trusts had been adjusted after AJ’s death two years earlier. Which meant that Alan had never taken Jason out of his will. Jason didn’t need the money — but his father hadn’t really given up on him. Not all the way. “I don’t need the money, so I’ll give it to you—”

“No, Dad wanted you to have it—” Emily stopped as Skye stormed out of the room with Tracy hot on her heels. Ned and Edward reluctantly followed, but Monica stayed behind, her eyes still hot with irritation.

“That woman,” Monica muttered before looking at Jason and Emily. “I’m sorry for that.”

“There’s no apologizing for Tracy,” Emily said. She rose to her feet. “She is what she is. I almost feel sorry for her. She’s so obsessed with ELQ, she can’t even see how much she’s losing.”

“Maybe you should give Skye some of your shares,” Elizabeth suggested with a wicked grin, and Emily’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Don’t tempt me.”

In the car, Jason was still unsure how he felt about an inheritance from Alan, from a father he didn’t know. He waited until Elizabeth had fastened her seatbelt and flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m going to put the money in a trust,” Jason said suddenly. “For the kids.”

“The kids?” Elizabeth echoed.

“Mine. The baby.” Jason paused. “And Cameron.” And any other children in the future, but he didn’t say that. “I don’t need it. And—” And he wondered if Alan would have been a good grandfather. If it would have been a bridge between them—  “And I don’t want them to ever worry about anything.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Elizabeth told him softly. “I don’t expect you to—”

“I know. But I want to.” He turned the key in the ignition, resolute. “So I’ll call Diane and get it done.”

36
This is the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore

Cameron bounced out of his grandmother’s lap and made a beeline for his mother as Jason held the door open for her. He wrapped his arms around her leg. “Mommy, Mommy, I missed you. You bring home my new brother? Where is he?”

“Not here yet,” Elizabeth said, wishing she could scoop him up in her arms—she could have done that even a few weeks ago, but over the last few days, her energy had dropped to almost nothing. Her bones felt as if they’d been replaced by sludge and she was trying to swim through it.

Jason closed the door behind her and put a hand at her waist. “Let’s sit down,” he told Cameron. “So you can sit with Mommy.”

“Okay.” Cameron grinned at him, then went back to his grandmother who had risen, worry in her eyes.

“Is everything all right, darling?” Audrey asked as she took Cameron’s hand and gently steered him away until Jason had helped Elizabeth take a seat.

“Nothing. Just a bit tired—” Elizabeth caught Jason’s eye, and sighed. “I’m a little anemic,” she admitted. “Kelly’s running some tests, but it just means I’m more tired. And I’m taking early maternity leave.” She wrinkled her nose at that. “Epiphany and Bobbie put their heads together, I think, and decided that even paperwork would be too much.”

Audrey didn’t argue with that idea, and Elizabeth knew her grandmother was thinking of the arguments they’d had about her double shifts and pushing so hard last fall — Elizabeth hadn’t known what else to do. She’d needed the money — and the distraction.

“The good news is that we had another ultrasound and this time the baby had turned enough to see—” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her belly. “Cameron was right. It’s a boy.”

“Oh!” Audrey’s worry shifted into delight. “How lovely.”

“Yay! I get a brother! No icky girls.” Cameron made a retching noise, and Elizabeth smiled.

“I think a little girl would have been nice,” Audrey told him. “You’d be an excellent big brother. But we’re quite happy with a healthy baby at the end of the day. So more bed rest?”

“Still light,” Elizabeth said, with a nod. “But yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I’ll do some more vitamins, she might have me check in overnight to get some iron supplements.” She grimaced. “I should go lay down.”

She held out her hand for Jason to help her up, but he decided not to bother with any of that. Instead, he put her arm around his neck and lifted her up. “Jason, I’m way too heavy—”

“Not even close to what I bench press,” he said, his breathing not even changing. “No stairs,” he reminded her.

She decided not to argue and laid her head against his shoulder. She was asleep before they even reached the top of the stairs.

October 2, 2022

Update Link: Counting Stars – Chapter 2

I’m glad you guys liked the first chapter! I’m really happy with how this book worked out (and even more excited about the edits I’m still making). I really pushed myself in some areas, and it’s definitely a new territory for me in GH canon. I’ve only written Signs of Life, which didn’t really touch on a lot of characters. This is your second preview chapter to replace a Flash Fiction update!

While it definitely sucked to spend so much of this weekend doing work, I’m glad I did it. I learned how to write units in my school’s lesson planners, which means I just have to click one button to update lesson plans every rotation instead of rewriting them every single week. It’s going to save me so much time and energy. Plus, I finished writing my second unit yesterday, and I’m going to be doing a lot of prep today to get ready for this week (I have to create teaching slides and Google Classroom posts). I also got all my papers graded yesterday.

Next weekend is a three day weekend, and the prep work I’ve put it this weekend will mean I can spend most of the next weekend writing — and finish the beta draft of Counting Stars. I’m hopefully carving out some time this afternoon/evening to finish a chapter of Stars, and then begin working on Kismet, which is the new project for this fall.

As always, I appreciate all the support and patience! I Flash Fiction will be back as scheduled next week and we’ll be in good shape to maintain the schedule going forward. September is always a wild month, and I guess I should be happy that I kept as much of my schedule as I did.

See you on Friday night!

This entry is part 2 of 3 in the Previews: Counting Stars

Reminder: This is a beta chapter. It’s been edited for typos, but some may still exist. This is not the final edit.


Chapter 2

Don’t speak
I know just what you’re saying
So please stop explaining
Don’t tell me ’cause it hurts
Don’t speak
I know what you’re thinkin’
I don’t need your reasons
Don’t tell me ’cause it hurts

Don’t Speak, No Doubt


Tuesday, January 11, 2000

Elm St. Pier

“Let me—” Sorel clawed at Jason’s hand, but the words were choked out. He couldn’t breathe. Elizabeth looked around frantically. Oh, God, what if someone saw Jason—he’d just been trying to help—would they believe Sorel had threatened her? Had he really? Technically?

“What happened to Moreno,” Jason said, his voice quiet but firm and very nearly terrifying, “will happen to you. If you speak to her again, if you even look in her direction—there will be no negotiations. I will find you, and I will end you—”

Her eyes bulged at that, but Sorel nodded rapidly, and Jason released him. Sorel clambered to his feet, and rushed up the steps and around the corner, Jason waiting until he was gone before he whirled around, his eyes still angry, his chest heaving.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

“I—” Elizabeth swallowed hard. The entire exchange had taken maybe a minute, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. “I—yes—”

“Why the hell were you talking to him?”

Her mouth dropped open and she took a step back. “Excuse me?” Her shock was fading, and fury was rapidly seeping in. “What did you just say to me?”

“He was responsible for the bomb, Elizabeth! You should have walked away! This isn’t a game—”

“Did it look like I could walk away?” she snapped and he closed his mouth. “He grabbed me, Jason, okay? I’m sorry we can’t all be that quick on our feet. I didn’t know if I could get away or if there was someone waiting—” Her voice faltered. A game. He’d accused her — Tears stung her eyes and she couldn’t force another word out. How many ways did he have to show her how little he thought of her?

He exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, I—”

“I’m not an idiot, and I know this isn’t a game. I’m the one that found you in the snow and tore apart my entire life to keep your secret—”

“I know—” Jason dragged his hands through his hair, then scrubbed him across his face. “I know,” he repeated and now he sounded like himself again. “I’m sorry,” he said again, meeting her gaze. “I was—when I saw you—and his hands on you—I just—I reacted. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Any of it.”

She folded her arms tightly, dropped her eyes to the gray, weathered planks of the pier. “He approached me,” Elizabeth said. “I was just standing here, minding my own business. I didn’t talk to him—”

“I—”

“What’s the point of all of this? I thought you said if we didn’t see each other—” A scalding tear slid down her cheek, and she closed her eyes. God, she didn’t have the energy for this today. Or any day. “I care about you. I don’t know why I have to pretend like I don’t.”

“I’m not asking you to—”

Her eyes flew open and she scowled at him, angrily swiping at her years. “Of course you are! Or maybe it’s different for you. Maybe you can decide not to be friends with someone and you can just stop caring about them—” Maybe he never had—maybe it had always been in her mind—

“You know I’m staying away because I do care,” Jason cut in sharply, taking a step towards her. He reached out, lifted her chin so their eyes met. “It would be easier if I didn’t.”

“It’s not working,” Elizabeth said. “He still knows who I am. And after this, I don’t think he’s going to believe that I don’t matter.” Her eyes searched his. “So the only thing that’s changed is I don’t get to see you.” She licked her lips. “Do you miss me?”

His hand dropped to his side. “Elizabeth—”

“Do you?” she demanded, desperate for something. For some indication that she mattered to someone—

“Yes.” The word was barely audible, barely more than the escape of breath from his lips but she could hear it and it was like a rush of cool water. “Yes,” he repeated, a bit more strongly. “But it’ll never stop. There will always be another Sorel—”

“I miss you, too,” Elizabeth told him and he closed his mouth. “And I think it should be my risk to take.”

He swallowed hard, looked away, then nodded. “You’re right,” he murmured. He took a deep breath. “It’s your choice. I just—” His hand hovered over her shoulder, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing her hair. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“There’s a lot of ways a person can be hurt, Jason,” she replied. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. Or live a lie. Please don’t ask me to.”

“All right.” He nodded. There was another roll of thunder, and Jason looked out of the water, taking in the same storm clouds she’d seen earlier. “That’ll be here in a few hours,” he said. “And if the forecast is right, it’ll be a few days before the weather clears again.” He tipped his head towards the stairs. “Why don’t we take a ride while we can?”

Elizabeth beamed, all of the misery and despair dissipated like the sun had broken through the clouds. “Can I drive?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on—” She pouted as she followed him up the stairs. “Just for a few blocks.”

“No.”

“Please—”

Quartermaine Estate: Nursery

Carly closed the door, then lifted Michael from his toddler bed to cuddle with him in the rocking chair by the window. “Hey there, Mr. Man.”

“Mommy…” He snugged closer. “Is it time for my bed time story?”

“Just like every night,” she told him. She reached reached into her pocket for the small photograph she kept on her body at all times—she couldn’t have anyone else finding her. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Carly who was in a lot of trouble. She was saved by a handsome prince who rode to her rescue and fell in love with her.” She handed Michael the photo. “The princess wanted to live forever with her prince, but the world was mean and she had to leave with her son. But she promised the prince she’d come home one day.”

Carly tapped the photo. “The prince waits for his princess and his son to come home.” She kissed the top of his head. One day, the story would have a happy ending, she was determined. Jason would forgive her—he always did. And she’d find a way to make their family whole again.

Until then, she’d tell Michael his story, and make sure he never forgot who really loved him.”Who’s that in the picture, Michael?”

“My other daddy,” Michael said, a bit drowsy, his words slurred. His eyes fluttered. “Me and Daddy.”

“That’s right. You and Daddy. He misses you all the time,” Carly said. “And just like the prince, Daddy hope one day I can bring you home.”

Spencer House: Living Room

Laura was restless after Luke had gone, unsure whether to believe this new leaf he’d promised he was turning over. Since the moment he’d learned of her affair with Stefan on the island all those years ago, he’d treated her like a stranger.

Even during those terrible days after Lucky’s death, when he’d held her and they’d grieved together, there had still been a distance between them. A coldness that she couldn’t bring herself to understand. How could the man who’d been wracked with guilt over their past just that summer turn away from her so easily?

Laura went to the desk by the front door and started to sort through the mail, tuck away bills and throw out the junk mail, happy to have found a chore for her idle hands and pained heart. Underneath the pile, at the very bottom, she found a copy of a legal document.

The divorce papers she’d had drawn up when Luke had missed Lulu’s birthday that summer, and their little girl had cried at her party, asking why everyone left her. She’d waited nearly a year to file—

But Luke hadn’t been around to serve with the papers. Was it time now? Maybe. She took the papers with her to the sofa, to review the contents. She’d asked for the house and nothing else —

As she sat down, her eye caught the framed photograph Luke had picked up earlier. It was tilted away. Laura abandoned the divorce papers and went to straighten the frame, sliding her fingers over Lucky’s beloved face. How happy he looked in this photograph—Laura hadn’t been at the Christmas party that year, but Bobbie had taken this photo, sure that Laura would love it—Lucky holding Elizabeth in his arms, the two of them listening to Alan Quartermaine read to the children.

They looked so happy, Laura thought. How could it be that her little boy had only been allowed barely eighteen years in this world? And poor Elizabeth, to find such happiness so young, and to have it so cruelly stolen? How much more would the universe throw at her?

Laura hadn’t seen Elizabeth in a few weeks. Maybe even months, she thought. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She had loved Elizabeth, had looked forward to welcoming her into the family—

Laura set the photo back on the mantel, straightening it so that Lucky faced the room. It was time to start living again, she thought. To move on and start the next chapter. And she’d begin by looking in on Elizabeth and filing her divorce papers.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Nikolas hissed with some irritation as he left the diner. Elizabeth wasn’t scheduled until the next day, Tammy had told him, and if the snow storm didn’t weaken overnight, her morning shift might be canceled.

He wanted to honor his promise to Emily to resolve matters with Elizabeth, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he would manage that if she insisted on keeping Jason Morgan in her life—

Nikolas strode away from Kelly’s and crossed the street, heading towards the waterfront and Elizabeth’s studio. He couldn’t understand, after the year she’d just had, why Elizabeth would want to be around someone who was responsible for Lucky’s death — it had been Jason’s enemies who burnt down the garage—Sonny must have paid off all the authorities to make sure it was buried, but Nikolas knew the truth—

And despite that, despite everything she knew, Elizabeth had let Jason touch her. His blood began to boil at the memory of Elizabeth and Jason in the studio, her leaning over his bare chest—

She’d forgotten Lucky so quickly, used him as excuse push Nikolas away, but Jason—the reason Lucky was dead—he was good enough?

He turned the corner of the stairs to lead down to Elm Street Pier, then stopped when he heard voices. Familiar voices.

Elm Street Pier

He didn’t even know how it had happened—he hadn’t started the day intending to end it with Elizabeth on the docks, sipping coffee while she drank hot chocolate. The night was bitterly cold, and he knew that he should walk her home.

He just didn’t want to.

The last few hours, on the bike, with Elizabeth screaming in delight behind him, holding on tight—it was the best he’d felt in weeks. And every time he wasn’t with her—

“Are you all right?”

Jason looked over to find her staring at him. She was biting her lip with her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You just seem…quiet isn’t the right word,” she said, “because you’re always quiet. Which is okay, I guess, I talk enough for five people. Um, I don’t know. It just feels like you’re distracted. Do you have to be somewhere?”

“No,” he said quickly, almost tripping over her words. “No, I don’t. I was just—I’ve missed this,” he admitted and she smiled again. “Even though it’s really too cold to sit out here.” He tossed his empty cup in the nearby trash. “We should get you back to the studio. That storm is going to be hitting in a few hours.” He got to his feet.

Elizabeth sighed. “Yeah, I guess. I’m supposed to open tomorrow—unless the storm closes everything.” She pulled herself to her feet and tossed her cup away. “Are you going to come in tomorrow for coffee like you used to?” She started for the steps and started the climb.

“I—” He grimaced. “Probably not,” he admitted as he followed her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She stopped and whirled so suddenly that it took him an extra step or two to realize it. He crashed into her, then snagged her by the waist to keep her from falling down the steps, instinctively pulling her against him.

Startled, Elizabeth rested her arms on his biceps and blinked up at him, her lips slightly parted, just inches from his own since she was a few steps above him. He could feel her breath, warm against his skin. Their eyes met, held for a long moment, before he dropped his gaze to her mouth. She licked her lips, and he nearly—

Jason cleared his throat and set her firmly on her feet, his hands falling away from her waist. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding rough and strange to his own ears. Her eyes were wide. “I didn’t mean—”

“Why isn’t it a good idea?” she asked, and he had the oddest feeling that she was asking about more than just coffee at Kelly’s.

“It’s not you,” Jason told her. “I need to lay low for a few days.” Away from Sonny and Carly. Not her. Nothing about how messed up and confusing his life was had anything to do with Elizabeth.

At least it hadn’t until thirty seconds earlier. He’d nearly kissed her. What a colossally stupid move that would be, and she wouldn’t want that—

I care about you. I don’t know why I have to pretend like I don’t.

“Okay,” Elizabeth drawled, clearly unsure. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. The leather jacket he’d bought her for Christmas. She’d worn it even though she’d been angry at him— “Um, should I just—I can get back to studio on my own—”

“No, I can walk you.” He wanted to. And maybe he needed to. To cling to this one piece of his world that didn’t hurt. “It’s okay.”

“If you’re sure.” Clearly bewildered, Elizabeth turned around and started back up the stairs. Jason closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then followed her.

When they had disappeared, Nikolas stepped out from the shadows and glared after them, all thoughts of resolving matters vanished.

October 1, 2022

Update Link: Counting Stars – Chapter 1

I won’t be able to update flash fiction this weekend. We had testing this week (New Jersey has added a second round of standardized testing at the beginning of the year) and we didn’t realize it was going to happen (admin didn’t give us a lot of notice) until Thursday of last week. Testing always puts everyone behind because things get shuffled, classes get moved (I was literally told on Tuesday five minutes before classes started that my entire first block would be in a different room, and I wasn’t prepped for that, we needed to be in my room for that lesson). I’m also co-advisor of the National Junior Honor Society, and we launched our first fundraiser this week (which we would NOT have scheduled for testing week, but ugh). Absolutely EVERYTHING got away from me this week, including real life stuff, and progress report grades are due Monday night.

I’m tired just typing all of that.

Anyway, instead of just skipping, I thought I’d give you guys some preview chapters of Counting Stars. And I’ll do that every time I have to skip a Flash Fiction update, so at least I’m still around, lol.

These are beta chapters, which means they’ve been edited but some typos still exist, and these are not necessarily the final edit. I’ll be back tomorrow with a Chapter 2 preview.

This entry is part 3 of 3 in the Previews: Counting Stars

Counting Stars begins in January 2000. Elizabeth had a bomb in her studio on New Year’s Eve which led to Jason going to Kelly’s and telling her they couldn’t see each other. This picks up just after those scenes. Laura and Stefan’s brief relationship ended earlier than it did on the show, and Luke never got together with Felicia. Instead, he left Port Charles after Lucky’s death and hasn’t been around much. Emily and Juan broke up in the fall. That’s the short back story.


Chapter 1

I refuse to give in to my blues
That’s not how it’s going to be
And I deny the tears in my eyes
‘Cause I don’t want to let you see no
That you have made a hole in my heart
And now I’ve got to fool myself

King of Wishful Thinking, Go West


Tuesday, January 11, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Jason Morgan had never particularly skilled in navigating awkward situations. In the four years since he’d woken from the coma that had obliterated the first twenty-two years of memories, he’d never worried all that much about his impact on the rest of the world. He said what he thought and acted on what he wanted.

The longer he lived, the harder it became to live like that. He’d hurt people by being too blunt or not thinking about the consequences of his actions or words and for the last few months—

Jason didn’t understand what the hell he was thinking or feeling so how was he supposed to act on it?

He’d returned from a run to Puerto Rico, a trip he’d taken dozens of times, and now he was reporting to Sonny, his boss, partner and supposed best friend, just like always. Except this wasn’t like any other day. It was the first time Jason was officially back to work, carrying out his usual duties since that terrible December morning when he’d walked into this room—

“Jase?”

He tuned back into the man in question as Sonny lifted his brows. “What?”

“I asked how Richie was getting along in the casinos,” Sonny said. “You were supposed to be checking on him.”

“Right.” Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. Cleared his throat. “Uh, fine. I guess. Nothing to write home about. He’s doing enough to keep the job, but you were probably right to put him on something less stressful.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Sonny paused. “Taggert came by while you were gone.”

Jason bristled, thinking of the last time he’d seen Port Charles’ dogged detective who was always ready to leap at any chance to drag one of them into the interrogation room. “And?”

“He wanted to follow up on New Year’s.”

New Year’s. He felt a spiral of fear slide down his spine. He’d felt it that night, too, though it’d been mixed with adrenaline as he’d raced from the pier up the rickety stairs of the rundown building, sprinting down the hallway, nearly breaking down the door, terrified he wouldn’t make it, that the world would explode and he’d—

Jason was careful not to let any of that show on his face as he continued to stare at Sonny. Waiting to see how it was relevant to him. Did the PCPD have anything or was Sonny planning to use this as a fishing expedition?

“We didn’t have anything to give him,” Sonny said, a muscle in his cheek tightening as he realized Jason wasn’t going to say anything. “And he doesn’t know anything we don’t. Elizabeth said—”

The hair on the back of Jason’s neck lifted. “You talked to Elizabeth?”

“Alexis did. I wanted to see if they’d told her anything.” Sonny paused. “She just said they cleared her building and that was it.” He tipped his head to the side. “She asked about you.”

His last conversation with Elizabeth echoed in the back of Jason’s mind, that terrible day outside of Kelly’s a week earlier, the last time he’d come back from Puerto Rico. She’d been smiling so brightly when she’d spied him in the window.

And then she’d stopped smiling.

I didn’t want it to be this way, but I can’t see you.

Jason said nothing. What could he say? And even if he knew, he wasn’t going to tell Sonny. Sonny had already proved he couldn’t be trusted.

“I mean, she didn’t really,” Sonny corrected, and Jason’s stomach twisted. “Alexis did. Wanted to see if you’d checked in on her since that night.”

He hadn’t. He’d left her on the docks to answer questions and had tried to slip out of her life, hoping she’d decide on her own that he was too dangerous to be around so he wouldn’t have to do it himself.

But she’d smiled at him last week. As if he hadn’t nearly gotten her killed. As if she hadn’t rung in the New Year’s freezing on the docks after he’d dragged her out of bed—

So he’d had to do it. He’d had to tell her, and it had killed him to shut her down—

We can still go for motorcycle rides and stuff, though. It’s dark when we go—

It’s done.

He wasn’t much for visual memories, not since the accident, but he could remember some moments better than others. And Jason didn’t think he’d ever forget the way she’d flinched at the cold way he’d cut her off or the words she’d tossed back at him.

Fine. That’s fine. You know why? Because I don’t need one more person in my life who thinks I’m some precious doll that needs to be wrapped in cotton and protected.

He’d nearly broken then. He turned to her, to stop, to try to find the words one more time to explain that it wasn’t just about the danger to her, it was about the way he’d felt that night, the terror of knowing he might have been the reason she was hurt—but she’d already started to build that wall again. That look in her eyes that was always for everyone else. Not for him.

I thought you were different, she’d said to him. I thought you understood. My mistake.

It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but walking away from her now before they continued traveling down whatever road they’d been on—

It was the right decision.

Even if it sliced like a knife to the gut.

“She said she’d seen you last week,” Sonny was saying as Jason tuned back in. “But she wasn’t expecting to again.”

“So?” Jason said shortly. “Is that important? Does that matter?”

“Uh, no, I guess not,” Sonny drawled, “except that if this is about New Year’s, then I don’t know if that’s going to solve anything. Everyone knows where you were for the last few weeks, and even if they think you’ve broken up with her—”

Jason clenched his jaw. It wasn’t like that, but thanks to that damned Nikolas Cassadine and his big mouth at the hospital Christmas party—

“It’s no one’s business, including yours.” Jason turned towards the door.

“Don’t be stupid,” Sonny said, in a sharp tone that drew Jason back. He blinked at the older man. “You think Sorel is going to forget about her? You’re smarter than that, Jason. He knows who she is. And walking away from her now is only going to make it clear how much she matters.”

Jason swallowed hard. “What—”

“She was not the target that night.”

“I know that—” He’d been the target. They thought he’d be with her, and a week earlier, they would have been right. “That’s why—” He stopped. Shook his head. “I’m not talking about this with you,” Jason said, gathering himself. “It’s none of your business—”

“The hell it’s not—Sorel’s going after you because of me—”

“And how I keep Elizabeth and the people who matter to me safe is my problem, not yours.” Jason yanked open the door and headed for the elevator, but that fear was back and it wasn’t just an echo.

It was alive, pulsing through his veins as he tried to remember Elizabeth’s schedule. Was she back at school? Was she at Kelly’s? She needed someone watching her until he was sure Sorel had moved on, until it was clear she wasn’t a way to get to him—

He jabbed the button for the elevator, impatient with himself for not seeing the danger she was still in and angry that it had been Sonny who’d pointed it out. He should have seen it. He was tired of Sonny pushing himself into Jason’s life, acting like he had all the answers. He wasn’t going to let Sonny take matters into his own hands. Not like before. Not like Carly.

He’d make sure Elizabeth was safe, no matter what he had to do to make it happen.

Quartermaine Estate: Family Room

Emily Bowen-Quartermaine beamed as she handed a cup of tea to her grandmother, then took a seat next to Elizabeth Webber on the sofa. “I can’t believe I’m going to be living in New York City,” she said. “It’s going be so much fun.” She flashed a quick, rueful smile at Elizabeth. “I wish you were going with me.”

She was supposed to be there already, Elizabeth thought as she forced a smile. That was why Emily had even applied to schools in the city rather than the Ivy Leagues of New England. She and Lucky were supposed to have moved to New York the previous summer while she attended art school. It was supposed to be Emily joining them.

But in her excitement over graduating in December and the big move, maybe Emily had forgotten that. It had been eight months since Elizabeth’s acceptance letter to the school had arrived and she’d trashed it in a fit of madness and grief.

What if she’d gone to New York? What if she’d taken the chance for a fresh start among strangers?

A shaky breath escaped her lips as she stared down into her cup of tea. What if she’d realized sooner that there would be life after Lucky?

“Darling?”

Elizabeth blinked at the sound of Lila Quartermaine’s quiet voice. She looked up, surprised to find Emily and Lila both looking at her. “I’m sorry. I—I missed the question.”

“I was telling Grandmother that you weren’t going back to PCU this semester,” Emily said. “She was asking why.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “A lot of reasons, I guess. Gram wanted me to go—” Had begged Elizabeth to do anything to get out of the house, to look to the future. “It’s not really known for its art program, and I just didn’t feel like I fit in there, you know? Um, the classes were stifling.” She forced another smile. “No point in wasting the money if it’s not what I want. I can get by okay with Kelly’s until I figure something else out.”

“You have to find your own path,” Lila said with an encouraging nod which was better than Audrey Hardy’s reaction when she’d left a scathing voicemail on the machine back at the studio. Elizabeth shifted on the sofa.

Her own path. She wasn’t even thinking that far ahead. She just wanted to put one foot in the front of the other for as long as she could stand it, and just hope one day, she’d look up and there’d be something new in front of her.  She was adrift again, just as she had been for months, but it felt more hopeless now. Before, she hadn’t thought about the future. The fog of grief had enveloped her, ironically insulating her from tedious worries about what she’d do for the rest of her life.

It was gone now, and she could see clearly. Sharply. Painfully. There was nothing. Her grandmother barely understood her, she and Nikolas had quarreled horribly after the Christmas party, Emily was leaving—

She ruthlessly shut down her thoughts before they drifted back to the last time she’d felt any kind of certainty. Any kind of interest in what the future held. When she’d looked up at Kelly’s and had seen Jason staring back at her from the courtyard. She’d been relieved to see him, excited to have him back—

And then he’d shut her down. He’d been the one to set her adrift this time. The last person in her life—the only person—who seemed to give a damn about her—and he’d walked away.

Just like everyone else.

It was so easy to leave her. To find her wanting. To decide she wasn’t worth the effort.

“As soon as I’m settled and I’ve got my schedule organized,” Emily told Elizabeth, “you have to come down to see me. Or come for spring break! That would be awesome! Right? And it’s so close. You can come for weekends—”

“When you’re settled,” Elizabeth said, pasting on another smile. “Promise.”

Kelly’s: Courtyard

She wasn’t on shift, and Tammy Hansen, the manager, had given Jason a steel-eyed look of disgust, refusing to reveal Elizabeth’s schedule.  It had surprised him at first, since Tammy had always been friendly to him before, but then he remembered what most of the people in Port Charles thought thanks to Nikolas Cassadine.

And if Tammy had believed he and Elizabeth were together, she’d likely know Jason hadn’t been around in nearly two weeks. He winced as he let the diner door fall shut behind him, wondering if there had been talk or other issues in the diner because of the rumors. How much trouble had he caused for Elizabeth, outside of the danger?

“Jason! Thank God—”

His wince faded into a grimace when he heard the familiar voice from the parking lot. He ignored it and continued towards the street and the docks.

“Jason—”

He heard the click of the heels behind him and scowled, turning abruptly. Carly Quartermaine nearly slammed into him and, on a reflex, he grabbed her elbows to steady her. She gripped his jacket  to hold him close. “What do you want?” he asked shortly, wrapping his hands around her wrists and shoving her back.

Her brown eyes flashed with hurt and his stomach twisted. He hated this. He hated feeling like the bad guy and why did Carly always make him feel that way? She was in the wrong. She’d been wrong over and over again for more than a year. Why did he have to keep learning the same lesson?

“I just—” Carly lifted her chin, her eyes damp. “I just haven’t seen you and I was worried. The papers said there was a bomb, and I knew it was about you. It had to be. You’re okay—”

“I’m fine.” He turned to leave again, but she snagged his jacket and he stopped. “Carly—”

“Michael misses you—”

His throat tightened. Michael probably didn’t remember him. Jason hadn’t talked or held the little boy since April. Eight months now, and it still cut as deeply as it had that day he’d walked away. “Stop it—”

“I can’t! You need to forgive me, okay? You need to—”

“I don’t have to do anything—”

“But—” Carly’s lip quivered. “You always forgive me. This is what we do. I mess up and you forgive me. You love me. You told me—”

“And you married my brother and slept with my best friend,” Jason bit out. “How did that work out for me?”

“I—”

“I need you to stop this, Carly. I need you to leave me alone and stop this.” He held up his hands as she took a step towards him. “Whatever I thought I felt for you, it’s over. I don’t want it. I don’t want you.”

“Please—”

“No. I have to go—”

“I’m never going to give up on us!” Carly cried after him, but her words were washed away in the swirl of the winter winds as Jason ducked down to the pier and away from her. He knew she wasn’t lying. She would never give up. She’d keep going after him, trying to remind him of something that hadn’t been real.

How could he have thought he loved her? He knew what love was, and it wasn’t whatever twisted emotions existed with Carly. Robin had shown him love, and she’d given him his first taste of betrayal, Jason remembered, shoving his hands in his pockets. She’d been right, in the end. Robin had known Carly would just use Michael. She’d keep hurting that little boy until she thought she had everything she deserved—

How the hell was Jason supposed to stick around and watch that? She’d never let him go, and working for Sonny—

He’d told Elizabeth he needed to figure out if he could still do any of this, and it was becoming rapidly clear that he couldn’t.

Quartermaine Estate: Driveway

Nikolas Cassadine jerked his Jaguar to an abrupt stop just before the sleek gray car hit the garage of the Quartermaine mansion. He threw it into park, and hurried out. Emily was standing by a car, her cousin Ned by the driver’s side.

“You still drive like a maniac,” Emily said as he approached her. She beamed at him, and threw her arms around him.

“Emily—” Ned tapped his watch.

“I’ll be just a few minutes.” Emily dragged Nikolas a few feet away. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“I almost didn’t.” Nikolas held her tightly for a long moment, then stepped back, forcing himself to smile. “I got caught up with some things at the hospital. The volunteer program—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” She brushed some snow from the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do something, just the three of us.” Emily’s smile faded slightly. “I feel like we haven’t gotten together in months.”

“Because we haven’t.” His tone was clipped, but he made an attempt to soften it. “We all got a little distracted. You and Juan—” he laughed when she rolled her eyes at the reminder of the boyfriend she’d been obsessed with most of the summer and fall. “Me and—” He exhaled slowly. “Katherine.”

Emily nodded. “And I guess this is where you point out that Elizabeth has been distracted, too. You know it’s not like that, right? You guys have talked, haven’t you?”

“No.” Nikolas stepped back. “She’s not taking my calls.”

“Still? Well—” Emily rubbed her arm. “It was a pretty big scene. Just keep apologizing, and—”

“Why am I apologizing? She’s the one—” Nikolas stopped. “I know he’s your brother, Emily, so I’m not going to point out how insane it is for her to be hanging around Jason Morgan.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “You just did. Nikolas, come on—the fire—it wasn’t about him. You know that—”

“I know what the cops say,” he bit out. “But that doesn’t mean anything—”

“It hurts when you accuse my brother of being the reason Lucky is dead,” Emily said softly, and he grimaced. “He’s my brother,” she repeated. “And I love him. And he’s important to Elizabeth. You’re the only one who seems to think there’s something wrong with that—”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Then stop picking one.” She forced a smile. “Now hug me goodbye and promise me you’re going to try harder to apologize to Elizabeth.”

“I’ll try again.” Nikolas embraced her. “Take care of yourself in New York.”

“I will.” She kissed her cheek and threw him another wave  before she slid into the passenger seat of her cousin’s car. He waited as it traveled down the driveway, exited the gate, and took away the first friend he’d made in Port Charles.

Emily was gone. So were Robin and Sarah. And Lucky. And for all her sins and tragedies, Katherine. All he had left was Elizabeth. So for Emily’s sake, and for his own, Nikolas would try to do better.

Even if his blood boiled every time he thought about how Jason and Sonny had gotten way away with murder.

Spencer Home: Living Room

“Don’t make that face at me, Lesley Lu Spencer,” Laura snapped as her ten-year-old daughter stuck out her tongue. “Why do we have this fight every night?”

“Because I don’t want to go to bed!” Lulu stomped her foot, and Laura threw up her hands.

“Fine. Stay up all night, look like a zombie at school—”

Behind them there was a light knock, and then the door was opening. Lulu’s angry scowl disappeared instantly as she hurtled forward towards the man who’d stepped inside.

“Daddy!” Lulu threw herself into Luke Spencer’s arms, forcing him to step back a step.

“Hey, gumdrop.” He kissed the top of her head, then smiled ruefully at Laura. “I didn’t mean to get in so late.”

“We didn’t know to expect you,” Laura said sweetly, but there was no smile on her face and some of the light in Luke’s eyes faded. He nodded.

“Wasn’t sure if it would work out.” He kissed Lulu’s cheek. “Did I overhear you and Mom arguing about bed?”

“Oh, but I can’t go to bed now.” Lulu widened her eyes, looked at her mother with pleading eyes. “Daddy’s home—what if he’s not here tomorrow?”

Laura’s stomach twisted, and she nearly gave in. Lulu so rarely saw her father, and she wasn’t wrong. Luke had a way of slipping and sliding out of their lives, and he hadn’t really been part of Lulu’s in years. Not permanently.

“No worries about that, darling.” Luke touched her shoulder. “I’m back for good. I’ve been roaming too long, and I’m hanging up my passport. Why don’t you head on to bed, and I’ll take you out for breakfast?” He hesitated, looked at Laura. “If it’s all right with your mother.”

“It’ll have to be early,” Laura said. “Lu’s school starts at nine.”

“We’ll grab something at Kelly’s before then,” Luke told Lulu who beamed. “Just you and me. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

“You promise, Dad? I’ll be really mad if you don’t show up.”

Luke grimaced, then nodded. “I promise, Lu. Cross my heart.”

“All right.” Still dubious, Lulu looked at her mother. “Good night, Mom. I better get to sleep if I’m going to be awake for Dad.”

Laura kissed her daughter, and then watched her climb the stairs before facing her errant and estranged husband. “God help you, Luke, if you don’t show up tomorrow morning—”

“That—That right there is why I’m here.” Luke shoved his hands in his pockets, looked past Laura to the mantel over the fireplace where she’d scattered family photos, including one of the family shortly before Laura left to care of Lesley. The last time they’d felt like a true family. “She loves me,” he murmured, “but she doesn’t trust me. And neither do you, Angel.”

“Hard to blame either of us,” Laura said. She folded her arms. “You decided I was the enemy over a year ago, Luke, and walked out. Funny how that works. I forgive you for all your sins, but you can’t even be bothered to listen to mine before you walk out.”

“I know it.” Luke exhaled slowly. “I know the problems started long before Cowboy—but after we lost him, I just…I felt disconnected. I don’t know if I can explain it better than that.” He turned back to her, their eyes meeting. “I don’t know if I can be the man I was before he died, Laura. But I don’t want regrets. I don’t want to miss another moment with my daughter. I missed too many with Lucky.”

“All right.” Laura nodded. “All right,” she repeated. “So you’re here to stay this time.” She’d believe it when she saw it, but at least she knew he’d be there in the morning. They’d start there.

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth grimaced, hearing thunder in the distance, out over the lake. She paused as she crossed from Bannister’s Wharf to the pier, and saw the dark, gray storm clouds tumbling over the water.

A storm on a freezing day like this meant more snow, which meant her shift at Kelly’s the next morning might be canceled. And a cold night at the studio because the radiator was still on the fritz, even though her landlord had promised it was fixed.

Maybe it would pass over Port Charles, she thought wistfully. Sometimes that happened. Storms rushed over the land from the west, but they broke up over the Great Lakes—

“Miss Webber—”

A voice broke into her musings and Elizabeth turned, irritated that she hadn’t heard footsteps. An older man with a receding hairline, dressed in a thick, warm, tan coat strode towards her, his hands encased in leather gloves.

Her breath caught. She knew this man. Why did she know him?

“It’s so lovely to run into you—”

“Excuse me,” she said, darting around him. She had a sick, twisted feeling that she’d seen him at Luke’s club sometime in the last few months—which likely meant—

A hand snaked out to grab her arm, and Elizabeth felt herself jerked to a stop. She turned, her heart in her throat. The hand around her bicep wasn’t tight, but it was firm. If she wanted to get free, she’d need to pull. To struggle.

And what if he didn’t let go?

“Excuse me,” she said again, ditching the thought of returning to the studio. She’d get away from him and head straight for the Corinthos-Morgan warehouse. It was closer, just across the pier, and there were plenty of guys who recognized her—

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” the man said coolly, and his grip tightened just a fraction. “Joseph Sorel.”

“I don’t know you, and I don’t want to,” Elizabeth said evenly. “Let me go or I’ll scream.” No man was ever going to put their hands on her again—never again—she’d never be dragged into the dark—

“That wouldn’t be very wise.” Joseph Sorel smiled and tipped his head. “I just thought we ought to meet since we have a mutual acquaintance—”

“Let me go,” Elizabeth repeated, but even as she spoke, she heard footsteps clattering down the wooden stairs behind her, like a freight train barreling down the tracks. Within seconds, her arm was free and Jason had shoved her back, grabbing Sorel by the throat and put him on his knees, his fingers squeezing so that the older man’s face reddened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jason bit out in a rough, angry voice she’d never heard from him before. “How stupid are you?”

September 25, 2022

Hey! I had a change of plans for my Sunday night that means I can’t write flash fiction tonight. I’m hoping to get it done during the week (Tuesday maybe). My niece, Isla, turned ten yesterday, and we weren’t able to have a party for her. My sister and her family literally just moved and their house is a shambles. So we’re getting together tonight to go out for dinner. I’m sure you guys don’t mind 😛

But! Just in case I can’t make a flash fiction update work this week because of school, I wanted to post something for you. Last month, I posted excerpts of possible projects and Malice ended up losing the vote by A LOT (huge surprise to me, honestly, lol), but I realllllllly loved the chapter I wrote, so I’m making the full chapter available to everyone. See you this week!

Malice – Chapter 1

September 23, 2022

Flash Fiction: The Last Time – Scenes 30-33

Made it to another Friday. This week was so exhausting. I know I say that every week, but man, I really feel like I just managed to crawl into the weekend. Wrapping up my first rotation of six graders and finally almost finished writing the content for the first of the new two new units this year.  I’d hoped my 7th graders from last year would calm down since I have them in first block as 8th graders, but they’re insane in the morning, too. Chaos demons, honestly. We kicked off our first NJHS fundraiser, and that was a lot of fun. The kids are selling shout outs they can send to friends, and stickers for their binders and water bottles. Busy. Exhausting. Overwhelming, lol.

I literally never touched Counting Stars this week, so I have a lot of ground to cover this weekend. I’m glad I did my major cleaning project when I got home from school today because I’m gonna be spending most of my time this weekend working on Act 2. This is going to be a really fun act to edit 🙂 Can’t wait for you guys to read it in November.

See you on Sunday for the return of Watch Me Burn!

This entry is part 9 of 10 in the The Last Time

Written in 62 minutes.


30
Put my name at the top of your list

Jason stood just outside the double doors to the chapel, lingering in the anteroom of Queen of Angels, a bit unsure of himself as he watched the pews fill rapidly with members of the hospital staff and distant branches of the Quartermaine family. The front two pews had been left empty out of respect for the close family. Tracy had already passed by him, her arm in her father’s.

Edward looked as if he’d aged decades since Jason had seen him last, and it was hard to find the ruthless and cold man he’d battled after the accident. Monica had squeezed his hand and glad been glad to see him. She’d gone in with Ned and his ex-wife, Lois, and their daughter, Brooke.

But Jason couldn’t bring himself to sit down. To take a place in those front pews. To publicly proclaim a position of family, of relation, that he’d never taken when Alan was living.

“Hey.” Emily came around a corner, her eyes red. “I thought I saw you over here.” She touched a tissue to her eyes, forced herself to smile. “I was just washing my face. I can’t—” She swallowed, looked through the doors, and the tears were glimmering again in her eyes. “I could put it away for a while. The last few days. I made some calls for Mom. But mostly I just…” She closed her eyes. “I pretended he was at work, maybe. That it wasn’t real.”

Jason reached for his sister, drew her against him in a loose embrace. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, that he understood. He’d spent the last few days thinking about other things, but then Monica had called him with the time of the services, her voice hesitant. Would he come? All the confusion, the swirl of grief and numbness returned just like that. As if no time at all had passed since that terrible night in the hospital.

“I know you and Dad didn’t see eye to eye,” Emily said, drawing back so their eyes met. “But he loved you, Jason.”

“I know.”

“And somewhere, inside of you, I think you must have felt it.” Her smile faltered. “He didn’t always do the right thing. And he pushed too hard. He said things that hurt you. Especially after Michael was born—”

“Emily—”

“I wish we’d had more time. I wish he was here to meet your child. I think it would have changed things. Or maybe that’s just me wishing again.” She inhaled sharply, her breath shaky. “You’ll come in with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded. “Yeah. But I know Monica saved you a seat in the front. I’ll—” Stand in the back? He looked down the aisle, to the empty space in the second pew.

“Oh, good.” Emily stepped back, turned towards the door. “I wasn’t sure if she’d make it.”

Jason turned and everything felt steady inside again. Elizabeth was climbing the stairs, a black coat pulled over an equally dark dress, one hand over her belly. He broke away from Emily, thinking he’d help her up the stairs—

But she was already there. “Sorry. Cam had a hard time going down for his nap. He didn’t want Gram to read him a story. It had to be me.”

“You’re just in time. We’re going in.” Emily hugged her. “I’m with Mom, and you and Jason can sit behind us.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him and he knew what she was thinking. The news of their child’s paternity had spread, but this would be the first time most people had seen her since the hostage crisis—and it would be at his father’s funeral? Sitting with him?

He nearly told her she didn’t have to—he didn’t want her to feel obligated or pressured—but then he did something he rarely did when Elizabeth was involved. He spoke what was in his mind. “I’d like that,” Jason told her.

“Oh.” Her eyes widened, but there was a warmth there, and he knew he’d made the right choice. “Okay. Of course.”

He took her hand and they trailed behind Emily as his sister walked down the aisle to join Monica and Edward in the front pew. Jason waited while Elizabeth sat down, and then sat at the end of the second pew.

There was a casket in front of them, and belatedly, Jason realized it was an open one. Alan lay there, his eyes closed. Beside a podium, there was a large photograph of his father, smiling as he hugged Emily at her medical school graduation.

Alan had wanted that future for him, Jason remembered, thinking of a conversation long ago, mere weeks after the accident. In the Quartermaine gym. Alan had opened up to him about what it meant for Jason to follow him into medicine, and Jason remembered feeling close to him in that moment, a fleeting emotion that he’d buried.

He swallowed hard, as he thought of that moment and others over the last eleven years—there were more harsh than good, but they were all he’d ever had. There was no turning back the clock. No time, no chance, no extra time.

For just a second, Jason wished he could go back to that day, to the moment he’d almost connected with his father, and be softer. To be kinder to the family that was grieving the boy who had never come home.

Elizabeth slid her hand into his, and he looked at her. Her eyes were damp and he wondered if she was thinking about regrets the way he was. If she was thinking of all the maybes and what ifs. The roads not taken. The choices he’d run from.

Her fingers tightened around his and the tightness in his chest eased as he looked forward again as Father Coates stepped up to begin the services.

31
This is the last time I’m asking you why

He didn’t run after the service, though he thought about it. He sat and listened as Father Coates delivered a eulogy, as Monica wept through the memories of her marriage—the good, the bad, and the ugly—as Emily broke down in front of the casket as she tried to talk about her father—and as Edward went up to the casket after the services had ended, and Jason had wondered if the old man would be able to walk away.

He offered Elizabeth a ride to the mansion and she accepted, though they didn’t speak in the car. He didn’t know what to say, and maybe she could sense that because she remained quiet, too.

When he’d parked in the driveway, and helped her out, he finally broke the silence. “Go inside,” Jason said. “I, uh—” He looked away, towards the gardens. “I wanted to take a walk.”

“I’ll go with you.” Elizabeth closed the car door and wound her arm through his. “If you don’t mind.”

He didn’t. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want to be around people. Not just yet. And not here. But Elizabeth wasn’t just anyone.

They walked through the quiet, dormant rose gardens, and Jason tried to remember the last time he’d been here. Not after Lila had passed, no. But surely he’d made time before that—

“I haven’t been here since I came home,” Jason said, suddenly, stopping in the middle of a path.

Elizabeth had walked a few extra steps before realizing that he had stopped, and she turned to look at him, questions in her eyes. “After you were gone for that year?” she wanted to know. “You came to see Lila—”

“In the house. But not here.” He paused, looking around, wishing he was better at picturing things. That he had Elizabeth’s artistic gifts. He couldn’t remember what it looked like, bright with life. What Lila looked like, sitting amongst her beloved roses. “She loved it here.”

“I know. She used to invite me to tea even after Emily left.” Elizabeth smiled faintly. “She was special.”

“She was the first person I ever loved,” Jason murmured. “The first person who felt like family. She taught me what that was. Then Emily. Robin and Sonny, that was different, but Grandmother—” He shook his head. “I keep thinking about the weeks I lived here after the accident. We were all so angry.”

“Jason—”

“I destroyed his—my—” he corrected gently. “I destroyed my room. Evidence of a life I didn’t remember, and Monica lost her temper. She was furious with me—I destroyed things she couldn’t replace.” He turned to look back at the house, wondering what that room looked like now. “They were strangers to me, and they kept looking for someone else. I couldn’t see they were grieving—”

“It’s easy to be hard on yourself with hindsight,” she reminded him. “Yes, they were grieving the boy they’d raised, but you were doing the best you could. I didn’t know you then, but I know that you’re not cruel—”

“You’d be surprised,” Jason murmured, but she shook her head. “I did things I knew would make them angry—”

“And your father and grandfather attempted to have you declared an unfit parent to take custody of Michael,” Elizabeth said. Jason exhaled slowly. “You’re looking back with regret, Jason, and that’s good. But don’t pretend that your family didn’t do things that hurt you, too. You hurt each other.” She tipped her head. “At the end, did Alan blame you?”

“No.” Jason struggled to speak, to force the words out. “No. He  blamed himself. It’s a parent job to keep trying. To make their child feel loved. He was sorry for giving up.”

“My parents gave up, too, but I’m not sure they’ll have regrets on their deathbed.” Her smile was faint. “I was scared when I got pregnant the first time. What kind of parent would I be? All I knew was what I didn’t want to be.”

“You’re an amazing mother,” he told her. “Cameron adores you.”

“And you’re an amazing father. Michael was lucky to have you. This baby—” Elizabeth reached for his hand, rested it on her belly. Jason smiled as he felt a strong kick against his palm. “This baby,” she continued, “will be lucky to have you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said. She drew her brows together. “For asking you to marry me because you were pregnant. You’re right. Marriage is more than that. And I don’t want you to ever think that all I care about is the baby.”

“I didn’t think that,” Elizabeth assured him. “I know you want to be involved. To be a full-time father. I don’t know what that looks like, but I promise, we’ll make it work.”

“I know.” Reluctantly, he let his hand drop to his side, though he could have felt their child kick all day long. He thought about his conversation with Carly, what he knew Elizabeth wanted before she’d consider marry him. Love. Could he offer that? Was he ready? He didn’t know that answer, but she deserved to know how important she was to him. How did he put it into words?

“Last year,” Jason began slowly, and she looked at him, their eyes meeting. Holding. “I don’t know exactly how it happened—how we got our friendship back—but I’m glad we did. I couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

A tear slid down her cheek, but she smiled. “My life is always better when you’re in it,” she said, and he returned the smile. “There’s no one else I want to raise this baby with.”

32
You break my heart in the blink of an eye

Emily felt her mother tense next to her, and she twisted, thinking that Monica had over heard Tracy saying something—

But it was nothing so dire—only her mother watching as Jason came through the front door, turning slightly to make sure Elizabeth made it over the threshold without slipping. They ignored the eyes on them as he removed her coat, then handed it to Alice, along with his own.

Then they made their way across the foyer to Emily and Monica. “I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, offering a hand to Monica. “Alan was such a wonderful chief of staff. I didn’t think anyone could live up to Gramps, but he stepped in like the position was made for him.”

“He was so honored to be asked to take over for Steve.”  Monica squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “And your grandfather would be proud of you carrying the Hardy/Webber legacy into the future.” She looked to Jason. “Thank you so much for coming today. I know it’s not your favorite place in the world, but it meant a lot.”

“Thank you for asking me,” Jason told her.

“Alan’s will is being read in the next few days,” Monica continued. “He left you something, so I hope you’ll come.”

Jason shifted uncomfortably, but then nodded. “Yeah—Yes. I’ll be there.”

33
This is the last time you tell me I’ve got it wrong

The house was stuffy and crowded, so Jason made sure that Elizabeth was settled with Emily who promised to make sure she’d get her something to eat—and he escaped back into the fresh air on the terrace.

He realized too late that his grandfather was standing by the railing, looking over Lila’s gardens. He nearly went back inside, but Edward turned, and they stared at each other for a long time.

“Monica says you were there at the end,” Edward said, finally.

Jason nodded cautiously. “Emily and I were both able to talk to him.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad. He, uh, had a lot of regrets. You get older, and you start—” Edward slid a hand down his suit jacket, his voice trembling for just a moment before he continuing. “You start to think about the things that you could have done better. My list is—well, it’s endless. No surprise there.” He waited a beat. “You’ll be a father soon, won’t you?”

“Yes,” Jason said. “In May.”

“Spring.” Edward closed his eyes. “It’s a good time. Fresh starts.” He turned back to the gardens. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said abruptly. Furiously. “Burying a son? Preposterous. It should have been me. It should have been me instead of my Lila.”

Edward’s hands gripped the railing tightly and he bent over. “I shouldn’t be here. None of us should.”

“No,” Jason agreed, coming to stand next to him. His grandfather looked at him with surprise, and Jason was startled to see the old man’s eyes were damp. “But Grandmother wouldn’t want you to say things like that.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” he murmured. “I often wish I’d had an ounce of her heart. Of her grace. I’d have been a better man.”

“I think we all would be if we could be like her.” The silence drew out between them. “But she loved us anyway.”

“Yes, she did. Even when we didn’t deserve it. I rarely did.” Edward cleared his throat. “We—we pushed too hard. After the accident. We thought—” He shook his head. “I don’t know what we thought. I never expected you to stand up the way you did, to walk away. To stay away. You never would have before.”

“No, I guess not. But I’m not that different now,” Jason found himself saying. “I just found another family to be loyal to.”

“I suppose there’s truth in that.” Edward sighed. “I took my family for granted. I thought I could never push them too far—that I could always bring them back. But there’s no bringing my boy back, is there?”

It wasn’t a question that needed answering, so Jason didn’t bother. “We can’t bring him back,” he said slowly, “but I’d like my child to know who he was. Will—” Edward stared at  him, hope in his eyes. “Will you help me?”

“Of course. Of course.” His craggy face broke into a smile. “Try and stop me.”