Written in 69 minutes. Sorry last scene took awhile — I really wanted to end on that line but it took a bit to get it right.
It was the end of a decade
But the start of an age
It still didn’t feel real. None it did. Not the diamond on her finger —it wasn’t the same as the one she’d worn a decade earlier, but another elegant selection from the family collection that had belonged to Edward’s mother.
Not the view stretching out in front of her, the green of Central Park as far as the eye could see, bordered by elegant buildings climbing towards the sky. Or the luxurious room behind her — with the master bedroom, a dressing room, two bathrooms —
A year ago, she and her boys had still been crammed into the two bedroom apartment in her mother’s brownstone. Though, of course, they’d been splitting their time between that apartment and the estate proper, with more and more time at the mansion.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Carly turned, a smile coming to her face at the sound of her husband’s voice — the most unreal piece of her reality. “Oh, they’re worth far more than that,” she said as AJ approached her, sliding his arms around her waist, then turning so that she was fitted against him and they both looked through the window that stretched from floor to ceiling. “It’s more beautiful in person. All I’ve seen are pictures up until now,” she said. “Where are the boys?”
“In the media room playing video games.” AJ kissed the side of her neck, stroked her arms again, then took a few steps back. “Have I convinced you yet?”
Carly sighed, looked around the room again. “It’s beautiful,” she repeated. “But the thought of leaving Port Charles, being here full-time? Away from our family?”
“It’s not that far away,” AJ said. “We can be home within two hours. I know,” he continued when she opened her mouth, “I know that we’d be taking the boys from their support network. But there’s plenty of room here. Bobbie can visit as much as she wants.”
“I’m being ridiculous, I know. With Ned not running for another term, he’ll be back at ELQ next year, and we could start the boys at school in September.” Carly sat on the edge of the bed, her toes digging into the plush carpet. “Part of me is still…getting used to my mother not being downstairs. Again, I know how that sounds, but—”
“It wasn’t just Bobbie downstairs,” AJ said. He sat next to her. “It was Lucas and Felix across the hall. Jason a few blocks away at the Towers. I know how important they are to you. And it’s not a decision I’d make lightly either. My family is closer now than we’ve ever been. My parents aren’t divorcing every other year, Jason and I aren’t in boarding school, separated, forgotten except at holidays.” His lips curled into a half-smile. “I’m not drowning in alcohol.”
She reached for his hand, squeezed it. “I know that change is a good thing. And sometimes I have to be pushed off a cliff to make it happen. If Alexis hadn’t suggested asking you for help, if Ned hadn’t been willing to smooth the way…” She looked away, sighed. “It’s just…this time of year. I hate December, and I hate June. And July,” she muttered. She scrubbed her hands through her hair, then got to her feet. “We still have time before we have to decide, right? I mean, this penthouse is here and it belongs to ELQ whether we move here full-time or not, right?”
“We have time. We could try coming on the weekends—wait—” He dug into his pocket, tugged out the cell phone that was vibrating. He furrowed his brow. “It’s Jason.”
Jason and AJ were on better terms now than they’d ever been, but not close enough for Jason to calling him casually. Carly rose to her feet, folding her arms tightly across her chest, waiting for whatever bomb was about to drop.
—
Jason sat next to his sister, his phone still in his hand. “AJ and Carly are leaving now. They’ll be here in a few hours.”
“Good, good.” Emily, still dressed in her blue surgical scrubs, sat rigidly in the chair across from Tony Jones. “I still don’t understand why Dad went to you, Tony. You’re not a heart specialist—I’m not trying to insult you—”
“No insult taken,” Tony told her, holding his hand up. “I did encourage him to keep his family in loop, and I think he intended to tell you all, it’s just…” He paused. “Good things were happening,” he said, “and I think he just didn’t want to change that.”
“Moni—Mom,” Jason said, stopping himself, and he saw his sister look at him, the first hint of tears in her eyes. He swallowed hard, kept his focus on Tony. “Mom wasn’t able to give us a lot of details. What’s going on?”
“About two years ago, Alan came to me — he’d had some symptoms that were troubling him, and when the chest pain started — well,” Tony tipped his head, “he’d had a mild heart attack.”
“Two years ago?” Emily asked. She let out a breath. “Jake. Right? It was when Jake was born. There was a day — I couldn’t get a hold of him and we were supposed to come see Elizabeth with Jake. I knew something was wrong. Dad said he lost track of time, but I let it go. I let it go,” she repeated.
“Em—” Jason reached across the space that separated their chairs. “It’s okay.”
“Yes,” Tony confirmed. “Alan had the heart attack two days after his grandson was born. He did not want anyone involved. Spirits were high, he told me, for the first time since Lila had passed away, and I knew…I knew they’d worried about Elizabeth’s health. Alan didn’t want to bring any of that down.”
“Stupid,” Emily muttered.
“I don’t disagree, but I was his doctor, and I had my orders,” Tony said. “We diagnosed him with coronary artery disease, which we kept under control with medication for the first year. However, over the second, we’ve had to change the dosages more than once, we’ve reached our limit to what we can do through chemicals. Alan’s developed chronic ischemic cardiomyopathy.”
“What’s that?” Jason asked. It wasn’t one of the strange pieces of medical knowledge his brain had held on to. “What does that mean?”
“It means that Dad’s coronary arteries — the ones around and in his heart — are too narrow or are blocked. The heart isn’t getting enough oxygen, and isn’t pumping effectively—” Emily stopped, closed her eyes. “Let me guess. Dad’s too weak for the kinds of procedures that we’d need to fix it. We can’t reopen his arteries—”
“Until and unless we can get some stabilization of his blood pressure, among other things, no, it would be too risky to put Alan through any of it. And even if we could get the arteries to flow better—” Tony hesitated. “The heart muscle itself is now damaged.”
It couldn’t be fixed. Couldn’t be changed. Couldn’t be improved. Jason stared at the edge of Tony’s desk, concentrating on the grain of the wood, the swoops and swirls. He didn’t have a task. There wasn’t another step to take. No treatment to track down. No one left to call.
Emily’s voice sounded far away now. “How long do you think, Tony? H-How long?”
“It’s hard to know for sure,” Tony told her. “Days, weeks.”
“But not months,” she said softly. She closed her eyes, tears staining her cheeks. “You can keep him comfortable?”
“That’s what we’re doing now,” Tony said. “I—I’m sorry.”
—
Elizabeth lifted Jake from the highchair and set him on the floor so that the toddler could rush into the living room where his toys were kept. She stood at the threshold so that she could watch him. “I don’t know if there’s more we should be doing. I thought about going to the estate, but Monica said they haven’t told Edward yet.”
“Probably worried what the news will to do to him,” Tamika Ward said with a sigh of her own. “I told you, I’d stay with the kids, and Justus will bring Kimi here when she’s done dance lessons. You can go back to the hospital.”
“I know. And I should be there.” Elizabeth folded her arms, her fingers digging into the sides. “I know that Cameron’s cold isn’t serious. The treatment isn’t even that difficult—”
“Took that little mask like a champ,” Tamika said.
“He did. And he’s sitting up, watching his cartoons like nothing’s wrong. I just—” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then stopped, looked at Tamika. “I don’t ever take that for granted, you know? The ability to breathe. I know by all rights, I shouldn’t even be here. That the boys shouldn’t be here. Medical miracle.” She looked back into the living room where Jake was building his tower and Cameron sat on the sofa, propped against a pillow. Curled up next to him was the Teddy, English bulldog they’d bought him for Christmas, his head resting on Cameron’s legs. Cameron’s shadow. Every once in a while, there’d be a ragged cough, and she’d have to physically stop herself from going to check him, to listen to him breathe, to put her hand against his heart, feel it pump against her palm.
“It was foolish to think that the only effect of all that would be Cameron’s glasses. Mikki, the idea of putting him through those pulmonary tests—”
“You’re not there yet,” Tamika told her, crossing the kitchen. “You’re not. He’s got a cold, and he’s a little miserable from it. You can’t be like this every time he gets sick. He’s in school now, babe. Do you want to know how many times Kimi brings home a cold that she shares with us? Kids touch everything, and everyone.” Elizabeth opened her mouth, and Tamika put up a finger. “And don’t tell me that Kimi’s immune system is different or because she wasn’t a preemie, it worries me less. Every time I send my baby girl out the door, I think about the world and how terrible it is.”
“God. I was—I was going to say Kimi and Cam aren’t the same,” Elizabeth said with a wrinkle of her nose. “And that’s an awful thing to say—” She exhaled on a rush. “Okay. Cameron’s okay. And I’m needed at the hospital. That’s where I should be. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. We’re family.” Tamika embraced her swiftly, rubbed her back. “You’d do the same for me.”
“I would. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
—
Jason hated these hallways as much as Elizabeth did — maybe more. He’d been the one awake for the days she’d lay unconscious in the coma following her first pulmonary embolism, after Cameron’s birth, after her surgery—he’d spent the better part of that year in the halls of General Hospital, and he was more than happy to leave it behind.
Monica was at Alan’s side when Jason appeared in the doorway, a forced smile stretched across her face. “Alan, look who’s here.”
Jason had been avoiding looking at the figure in the bed, not in any hurry to see that it belonged to his father. To the man he’d spent most of his remembered life pushing away, shoving him to the edges where he barely played a role.
He didn’t watch to see Alan in the bed, didn’t want that picture in his head. Would rather think about the ways they’d rebuilt — the first time Jason had held Cameron, when they’d conspired to let Cameron think Santa had brought him a puppy—
“Jason.”
His name on Alan’s lips — the voice sounding tired, stretched too thin — Jason finally raised his gaze to find his father looking at him. His face was pale, but he was smiling. Not so terribly different than it had been a week ago, when they’d gone to the estate for dinner.
“Come in,” Monica said, getting to her feet, gesturing for him to come closer, and Jason could see the desperation in her eyes, the trembling in her hands. He took that hand now, wrapping his around it, and he felt her body shudder. “Did you talk to AJ?”
“Yes. He and Carly are on their way back tonight.” Jason came into the room properly. “Emily’s taking care of Spencer and Lila — Nikolas is in London, so she needs to get them picked up from daycare. But she’ll be up in a minute.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m going—I’m going to make sure she doesn’t need me.” Monica left the room, and Jason looked at his father.
“She’s angry at me,” Alan told him.
Jason took the seat Monica had vacated. “Can you blame her?” he asked his father. “You’ve been sick for two years.”
“I…I wanted to say something,” Alan said. “But there was always a reason. Jake was here, and we were all so happy he was healthy, that Elizabeth came through, and then it was Christmas, and Emily was pregnant with our sweet Lila, and Carly and AJ were getting married —” Every word came slowly, almost painfully. “My children were flourishing, and I’ve been so proud. Can you…can you understand why I kept quiet?”
“I can understand,” Jason acknowledged, and Alan’s face relaxed. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. This wasn’t how it should have happened.”
“No, I know. Monica deserved better.”
“We all did,” Jason told him, and Alan nodded. “But we’re here now…Dad.”
“Dad,” Alan echoed, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and warmth. “Well, now I know I’m dying.”
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