Written in 66 minutes.

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Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Jamesville Correctional Facility: Visiting Room

It had been more than a month since Kristina’s transfer to the federal facility near Syracuse, and every Monday and Wednesday like clockwork, Sonny had traveled to visit her, going through the humiliating motions of being searched on every single occasion.

Not that Kristina seemed to appreciate it. Sonny was trying to have some patience for his daughter — she’d never served time the way he had and it would take her time to get used to the lack of autonomy, the lack of independence. Living on a schedule, being dragged out of bed for count before she wanted to roll out of bed, sleeping on an uncomfortable cot with a steel bedframe. He didn’t have strings to pull in the federal facility, and even if he had, he was hesitant to use them, not wanting the feds to hone in more on his organization.

Her hair looked greasier than their last visit two days prior, and the purple circles beneath her eyes were even more pronounced. The guard led her into the visiting room, then locked her shackled hands to the metal ring at the center of the table.

Kristina grimaced at the awkward sitting position it forced her into, but the moment the door had closed, she leaned in. “How much longer? That damn lawyer won’t tell me anything!”

Sonny shook his head. “The courts are slow at the holidays, Kristina. I told you that, and so did Martina. They haven’t set a date, and even if they had, she’s been clear. Bail is probably not happening.”

“Elizabeth got bail,” Kristina muttered, and Sonny forced himself not to scowl at her. It would do no good to remind Kristina that the case against Elizabeth had been thin, and that arresting her at all had been a pretext from the FBI to flip her on Jason.

There was no reason to let Kristina out of jail, not when they had such damning evidence against her. They had to suspect that if she were loose, Sonny would have her ankle monitor off and put her on a plane to the furthest country without extradition available.

No, there was nothing he could for his daughter anymore other than provide her a good lawyer and visit her.

“I can’t live like this, Dad. You have to help me—”

He’d told her over and over again for weeks, but he’d have to repeat himself again. Because she couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around the situation she was in.

“The time when I could help you, Kristina, is done,” Sonny said, and she tried to sit back but couldn’t get very far with her hands chained to the table. “The time to ask me for help was months ago. Before you started playing games. I cannot do anything to make this go away.”

“That’s bullshit—you’d do it  if I were Michael,” Kristina spat. “You pulled all kinds of strings—”

“Played every card I had and he still went to prison for months,” Sonny shot back. “I told you, Kristina. We’re playing the hand that you dealt us. You forced me to choose, and I chose you. Don’t make me regret it.”

Webber House: Kitchen

Danny peered at the screen, furrowing his brow. “Are you sure about this?” He looked at Aiden, up to his elbows in bread dough. “I don’t think you’re supposed to put sugar in bread.”

“It’s enriched dough, dork. And it has to sit overnight so I can finish it in the morning and have the brioche ready for breakfast—”

“Oh, God, I stopped caring—” Danny tossed the phone. “You don’t actually need my help, do you?”

“Tried to tell you,” Aiden grunted. “But you insisted.”

“I was bored,” Danny retorted. “Obviously. Whatever, I’m gonna go play Final Fantasy.” He was halfway to the stairs when he heard the light knock at the door. Finally! Something to do! He practically sprinted to the door, tugged it open, then made a face when he realized Dante and Rocco were on the other side. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Hello to you, too,” Dante said, with a lift of his brow. “Is this a bad time?”

“No.” Danny stepped aside, avoiding Rocco. His former friend slunk in behind his father, but lingered at the door. “Aiden’s baking, and Dad and Liz are setting up the deep fryer in the back.”

“Deep fryer?” Dante repeated.

“Cam wanted to try it,” Danny said. “So we’re deep frying tomorrow morning and lugging it over to Grandma Monica’s. I didn’t ask questions.”

“Okay. Well, I’m gonna go out and talk to them. Rocco, why don’t you hang out in here?” Dante suggested, then headed for the back door before anyone could argue.

Danny and Rocco remained silent, awkwardly standing several feet apart, staring at the ground. They hadn’t really seen each other since his mother’s services last month. Rocco had gone back to school, but Danny had opted to go on homebound until after the holidays. He hadn’t felt up to returning to school with all the people staring at him, and he’d started seeing Dr. Fletcher daily for a few weeks.

Rocco shoved his hands in his pockets. “Uh, how’s things?”

“Fine.” Danny folded his arms. “You back at school?”

“Yeah. Dad made me go back after the suspension.” Rocco hesitated. “I’m mostly sorry for punching you.”

“I’m not sorry for punching you back. You were a dick.”

“So were you,” Rocco said, his head snapping back.

“You both were,” came Aiden’s voice from behind them. “So shut up about it and go somewhere else. You’re distracting me.”

“Whatever. You wanna play Call of Duty?” Danny suggested.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I kicked your ass.”

“Suck my—”

Whatever Danny was saying to Rocco faded as the two raced up the stairs to the third floor, leaving Aiden in silence. Which was perfect because it was time to let the dough prove.

Webber House: Backyard

Elizabeth eyed the metal cannister between Jason and Cameron with trepidation. “We’re not going to accidentally blow up the house, right? Because I already did that once.”

“Twice if you count the time I set it on fire when I was a kid,” Cameron said absently, skimming the directions again, then squatting to check the placement. “We’re good, Mom. I watched a ton of videos, and I saw lots of guys get set on fire. I took notes.”

“This is a bad idea—” Elizabeth turned at the sound of her back door opening, saw Dante there. “Dante, do you think deep frying a turkey is a good idea?”

“How sure are we that the Quartermaine curse doesn’t travel?” Dante responded, and Elizabeth frowned, looked back at the duo.

“I didn’t even think about that.”

“Chill, I think you need more than half a Quartermaine present—and if we keep Jake and Danny inside, I think we’re good.”

Jason looked at him with skepticism. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“Shh, go along with it. Mom’s unlocked a new level of worry,” Cameron said.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, folded her arms and looked at Dante. “Their new favorite thing is to agitate me. Ignore them. What’s up?”

“I, uh, brought Rocco with me. I thought it’d be good if he and Danny tried to hang out a little before tomorrow,” Dante said. “Just to avoid the food fight. I was looking for an excuse to do that — and Alexis gave me a good one today.” He looked over at Jason. “Sam’s estate has been settled. She signed the last trust paperwork today.”

“Yeah, she called me. You didn’t need to come over for that—”

Dante reached into the inside pocket of his coat, pulled out a piece of paper. “Sam left a letter to her mother—to the executor, I mean. About the kids. She updated it when you came home last year,” he said to Jason. “Before that, I guess she’d asked Drew to take custody of the kids to keep them together. And because Drew and Danny used to have a good relationship.”

Jason tensed, and Elizabeth reached out for his hand, wondering if Sam had updated her will to reiterate that wish. If somehow, the custody fight would survive her death. “But it’s different now. With Jason home. And—”

“And Sam didn’t exactly have authority to give away Danny’s custody, yeah. She, uh, she wrote that she knew Jason and Drew disliked each other, and that things were difficult. That she didn’t—” His voice faltered. “She didn’t really expect to have to worry about it, but  after I was shot, she thought — anything could change. So she wrote that even though you guys didn’t like each other, she hoped you’d do right by the kids. To keep them together as much as you could.”

“We’ve done that,” Jason said with a nod. “Danny spends the weekends with his sister. You know that.”

“I do. And that’s—it’s good. But Drew—well, against the odds, he’s going to Washington after the new year,” Dante said. “And the subject of Scout while he was there came up.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Elizabeth said. “I don’t even know how much he’d be gone.”

“A couple of months at a time, I think. Most of the winter. He…he doesn’t want to uproot Scout from Port Charles. From her family. But he’s also worried that just letting her stay the house without him — she’ll sort of be on her own.” Dante paused. “At first, Alexis suggested that maybe Danny could live there while he was gone—” he held up a hand when Jason opened his mouth to protest, “but I pointed out that means Danny would feel responsible for her all the time. And that’s not fair to him. So I had an idea. And Drew is on board. If you are.”

Queen of Angels Cemetery

The ground was cold, but Molly sat anyway, folding her legs, and looking at her sister’s newly entombed stone. Samantha McCall.

“I don’t know why people find comfort in this sort of thing,” Molly said. “Why sitting over your buried remains is supposed to feel like talking to you. If you had any sense, you wouldn’t be haunting your grave anyway.” And if life were fair, Sam was haunting Kristina, keeping that bitch awake and never letting her have a moment of peace.

“The kids are managing. Drew and Jason may have been terrible husbands, I don’t know, but they’re good fathers. And they’re making sure Danny and Scout see each other all the time, and we all—we all go to the house every weekend for dinner so Mom and I can see them, too. It’s…it’s helping Mom. I think. To keep focusing on them. And I’m trying to forgive her. It’s not easy, but I know you’d hate us fighting like this. I can’t do anything about our sister. Not even for your memory, Sam. I won’t. But for you, I can try give Mom another chance.”

Molly’s eyes flitted to the side, to the stones nearby. “I don’t know if there’s something more after we die. If your spirit somehow…lingers. But if it does, then it means maybe…maybe Irene does, too. And maybe you’re with your daughter. Your first. And sometimes…it helps to imagine that. To know that if there’s any justice in this world, you’re with our babies. And because of that, I’m going to be here for yours.”

Tears stung her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. “I know you wouldn’t want me to be angry all the time, but I can’t stop it. I can’t stop being furious with myself, with Kristina, Mom, the world — with Dante, and even with you. With everything. It’s supposed to get easier. Everyone says that. But it’s not. I don’t understand why this keeps happening. I couldn’t have a baby, I didn’t even get to have Irene, and now I don’t have you. And I don’t have Kristina. It’s not fair.” She swiped at her cheeks. “I sound like a petulant child, don’t I? Screaming at the sky about how life isn’t fair. I know it’s not. I don’t expect it to be, and yet — I still find myself surprised anyway. I don’t know how people get the courage to keep going, to keep opening themselves open. To keep being hurt. I don’t know if I can be that brave.”

She waited — for what, she didn’t really. For the wind to stir, for the leaves to rustle, for some sign from the universe, from Sam, that she was listening. But there was none.

Because life wasn’t fair.

Webber House: Living Room

“All that food,” Jake grumbled, dropping on the sofa, “and we gotta eat Mama Mangione’s—”

“It could be worse,” Cameron said, leaning forward to snag a slice from the box on the coffee table. “You could be stuck in California where they keep saying it’s New York style, but it’s a goddamn lie.”

“You’ll stop complaining tomorrow when we get to the Quartermaines and you can eat everything Aiden’s been cooking,” Elizabeth said, setting down a stack of napkins, and sitting next to Jake on the sofa.

“Unless Dad and Cam blow us up first,” Danny said, dropping to the floor by the coffee table, reaching for his own pizza.

“No danger of that — we’re not letting you help,” Cam shot back, tossing a pepperoni at him.

“Don’t start—” Elizabeth held up her hand, then waited for Jason to join them. He handed her the stack of plastic cups, and sat in the arm chair. “I’m glad we could get you guys in one room, just us, before tomorrow.”

“That sounded sus,” Aiden said. He looked at Jake. “Mom’s up to something.”

“It’s not—I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. We don’t have a lot of time before they start agitating each other or us,” Elizabeth told Jason, who understood the signal.

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “Dante came by earlier to talk about after the holidays. When Drew goes to DC.”

“Drew Q for U actually worked,” Jake said with a shake of his head. “God people are stupid.”

“Am I allowed to say I didn’t vote for him?” Cameron wanted to know.

“Not tomorrow, or that’ll be the reason we don’t get dinner,” Elizabeth said. “And Drew’s election isn’t the point, so stop interrupting.”

“Sorry.” But Cameron grinned because he was not, in fact, sorry at all.

“Right now, Danny’s been spending the weekends with Scout at the Quartermaines,” Jason continued, and held up a hand when Danny sat up, alarmed. “That’s not changing. It’s good for your grandmother to see you both,” he told his son. “But with Drew out of town for weeks and months a time, they’re worried about Scout.”

“She could come here,” Jake volunteered. “Right? Is that the question?”

“Yes. Scout would stay here with us during the week,” Jason said. “I know that’s a lot to ask—”

“Not really,” Aiden said. “Danny can stay with me, can’t he?”

Danny, his heart beating fast at the thought of being able to basically live with his sister full-time again, sat up a bit straighter. “Yeah. You already got bunk beds.”

“And Cam’s already with me when he’s around,” Jake said. “So we’ll just give his room to Scout.” He made a face. “We might need to fumigate it though—ow!” He got a whack from Cameron.

“I don’t know why—I guess I thought it would be a bigger conversation,” Elizabeth said, slowly. She bit her lip, looked at Jason. “But I guess their answer is yes.”

“Really?” Danny asked. “That wouldn’t be too much?”

“After the four of you,” Elizabeth said wryly, “adding Scout would probably feel like a vacation.”

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