August 2000

By the time Elizabeth pulled into the parking lot at Jake’s, switched off the ignition, and reached for her purse, the worst of her frustration and anger had burned off, leaving only the vague sensation that it wasn’t supposed to be this hard. The conviction that somewhere she’d taken a wrong turn and she couldn’t get back again.

She let her head fall back against the headrest, closing her eyes, wondering if maybe she should just go to the studio, lock the door, lay down on the studio—

A sharp knock on the window jerked her out of her thoughts and she looked out the window to see Jason. He had one arm braced along the top of the door, and was leaning over to peer into the car. Jason. Her port in the storm who had returned when she’d needed him the most. It was like he’d known somehow that she was drifting at sea and needed something—someone—to guide her back to safety.

Elizabeth removed her key from the ignition, dropped it in her purse, then reached for the door handle. Jason stepped back as she climbed out of the car, sliding his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans.

“You always sit in the parking lot of bars?” he asked, tipping his head, his expression amused.

“Only when I can’t decide if I have the energy to go in.” She flicked her eyes towards the building. Lights and sounds pulsed out every time the door to the bar opened. It would be packed inside. Loud and impossible to get your orders. You could get lost in there, she thought.

She wanted to get lost. To disappear.

Elizabeth leaned against her car, made a face. “You should go in. Don’t let me interrupt—um, whatever you were doing.” Maybe he’d come outside for some fresh air. Maybe he was meeting someone. Maybe there was someone inside—

“I was just going in, but I think I’d rather stay out here.” Jason surprised her by leaning against the car as well, his arms brushing against her. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. Yes.” She sighed. “What does it even mean to be okay? Like, can someone give me a definition? Sure. I’m fine. But I’m not. And somehow both are true, and neither are, and now you’re looking at me like I’m insane—”

Jason didn’t respond right away — that was his gift, she knew. He listened, and the comfort, the certainty that he wasn’t just pretending — that he absorbed every word she spoke gave her the courage to keep speaking, and inevitably she’d come to her own realizations.

She’d missed that.

“You know the definition of insanity right? When you do the same thing over and over and over again, expecting different results?”

“I’m familiar with it.”

“I think I’ve crossed into insanity. It’s the only explanation. A year. I threw away an entire year drowning in grief for someone who wasn’t even dead. Lucky comes home, and is he happy to see me? No. No, he tells me to move on, that he’s not in love with me anymore. Fine. Whatever. It was a year, wasn’t it? It’s not like I was the same girl who’d stood there watching the garage collapse in on itself, waiting for Taggert to give me any hope—” She squeezed her eyes closed, took a deep breath. “I could live with it if Lucky came home and told me it was over. It would hurt, but I already know how to live without him. I had to learn that.”

Absently she rubbed her arm, exhaled a long a shaky breath. “But he doesn’t do that. He tells me he doesn’t love me, then he looks at me like it used to be, and I think maybe he’s changing his mind, but then he doesn’t. And he tells me to be with Nikolas. I don’t want Nikolas, and everyone keeps saying just hang in there, you know? Just give him time. And I listen. I listen because it’s Lucky. And I got a miracle. It’s a miracle that he’s alive.” She bit her lip. “You’re not supposed to reject a miracle.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

It was Jason, so she knew it was safe to be honest. To speak the words she’d only thought deep down, at night, when she’d cried for the thousandth time. “They want me to give him time. But sometimes I think I’ve already given enough. A year to grieve. And, what, four months for him to adjust, to think about what he wants. Shouldn’t I just listen to what he’s saying? He’s telling me to give up. And today? Today I want to.”

“But you’re worried about tomorrow.”

“No. Yes. No,” she said, but it sounded more firm. “No. I’m not worried about me tomorrow. I think I could be done. I just—” She looked down at the parking lot — the broken concrete and gravel that needed to be redone. It was littered with broken glass and other trash. She absently kicked at the bottom of a beer bottle. “I just wish he’d stop changing his mind. Or looking at me. You know? It makes it harder. And it feels…cruel.” Her voice broke. “It’s cruel for him to do that, to take me back to who I used to be, to make me think for a moment that we’re back there. And then just when I almost believe him, he snaps me back. And he shoves me so hard back into reality I almost can’t breathe.” Tears burned, clinging to her lashes. “And I don’t know how to be around all these people who just want me to give more. They keep asking for it. Time. Energy. Pieces of me. And if I don’t do it—” She stopped.

“What? What happens if you don’t give it?” he asked gently. She lifted her gaze to his, their eyes meeting, holding.

“I go back to being Lizzie Webber, the girl no one wanted. The Webber sister they tolerate. Do you know what it feels like to be tolerated? To know your entire existence is just an irritation and a burden?”

“You’re not a burden.” Jason shifted, his shoulder leaning against the passenger door, his voice low. “Elizabeth. You know that’s not true.”

She swiped at her cheeks. He didn’t get it, and it killed her to realize that. How could he? He’d never known her before that night at Jake’s. How could he understand what it felt like to know you were on the verge of losing your identity, that it was tied to this one person and now he was home, so—  “Right. Right. You’re right. I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” She straightened, forced a smile. “I think I’ll head home. I’m not really up—”

His brow creased, and he scowled. “Don’t do that. Don’t give me that fake smile and pretend you’re okay when you’re not. You don’t have to do that with me.”

“I’m not.” When he just looked at her, she exhaled in an irritated huff. “Well, then don’t say things like that, okay? If I knew it wasn’t true, I wouldn’t feel this way. The people in my life? They’re there because of Lucky. All of them. And you had a front row seat last Christmas at how people treat me when he’s not around. Look at what Nikolas did—and Emily—she was so pissed at me for not telling her about you.” Elizabeth shook her head, looked away. “And Luke and Laura? Barely looked at me. Bobbie. Bobbie, I think I could still count on. But Carly would just accuse me of trying to steal her mother like she accuses me of stealing everything else in her life,” she muttered.

“Carly thinks people only have a finite amount of attention to give,” Jason said, almost dryly. “Every ounce Bobbie or Sonny or me,” he added with a wince, “give anyone else is an ounce that doesn’t go to her.”

“You’re not kidding.” Elizabeth sighed. “Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m starting to resent them. For telling me to wait. To put my entire life on hold because Lucky might change his mind. It makes me feel like I don’t matter. Or like I’m selfish. I mean, Lucky was kidnapped for a whole year. That’s gotta take priority over everything else, right?”

“Why? He’s home. It’s safe. It’s over.” Jason shrugged. “If he doesn’t want to be with you, then you should take him at his word. He’s telling you what he wants. Why shouldn’t you believe him?”

She smiled faintly. “It sounds so simple when you say it like that. And it should be that simple.”

“And maybe things will be hard with Nikolas for a while. I’m not sure you’re losing anything of value,” he continued, and her smile broadened. No love lost there. “But Emily will come around. Especially if you tell her like you told me. And you know you have me.”

“Do I?” Elizabeth arched a brow. “You didn’t exactly keep in touch when you were gone.” When he just looked at her, she looked away, her cheeks heating. “Not that you needed to. I mean, I didn’t expect to—”

“I thought it was better for both of us if I made the break clean,” he said softly, and she looked back, startled. “I went, in part, to keep you safe. Sorel knew you mattered. And well—” he winced, looked out towards the edge of the parking lot, squinting. “I don’t know. I think maybe it would have been harder if I’d called or written.”

“Harder to do what?” she asked softly.

“To forget,” Jason admitted. “Leaving was easy. Forgetting why I had to go, why I had to stay gone? Almost impossible.”

Her pulse picked up, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. “But you came back.”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re not staying.”

“I—” Jason hesitated. “No,” he said finally, and all the air rushed out.  “I can’t. I come back now, and I go back to the way things were. I don’t want that.”

“I get it. You fall into old patterns, old habits. That’s all I’m doing with Lucky. I can tell you tonight that I’m done. That I don’t want to keep waiting and hoping, but tomorrow, I’ll have to actually live it, and I don’t know.” She winkled her nose. “Maybe you’ve got the right idea. Just pick up and go until you’re strong enough to stand up and stop making the same mistakes.”

“So why don’t you do that?” Jason asked. “Pick up and go?” he clarified when she frowned at him. “Your art. You could do that anywhere.”

“I could. If I afford it. I should have gone to art school,” Elizabeth said, almost wistfully. “I got in, you know. But I threw the letter away. I couldn’t think of going to New York without Lucky. That was supposed to be our dream.” She closed her eyes. “But I’d go to Europe. Paris. Or maybe Provence. Van Gogh painted there. And Italy. They say the light in Italy is like no other place in the world.”

“Then let’s go.”

“What?” Her lips parted and Elizabeth straightened, afraid to look away from him. Her pulse skittered as reality crashed down again, and she slumped against the car. “What do you mean, let’s go?”

“Europe.”

“I can’t just…go to Europe. I—I don’t have a passport. Or money.” When he just lifted his brows, she made a face. “And I’m not letting you pay for it.” And what did he even mean saying let’s go like that—did he mean with him? What would that even look like? “You…you should go though, um, and you can tell me about it the next time you’re home.”

“Or,” Jason said. “You could go. With me.”

“With…you.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I don’t—what does that mean?”

“We’re friends, right?” he asked, dipping his head a bit, lowering his voice. “Friends can travel together.”

“Sure, I mean, yes, they can. But—” Not if one of them was Jason and one of them was Elizabeth, and now that the image was in her head, she thought of sharing hotel rooms and trains and cars and maybe a gondola in Venice— She cleared her throat. “I can’t afford it. And I wouldn’t feel right letting you…I mean, it’d be taking advantage of you. You having money it’s not why we’re friends.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the point again, but she continued.  “But it’s nice of you—I mean, thank you. Europe, right now it’s just a dream. But you know, just for a minute, I was tempted, that says everything doesn’t it?”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t want to wait for my life to begin anymore. I want to…I want to see the world. Somehow. But first—Emily—” She flicked her eyes at him. “Emily still needs me. And you know what? The only reason we didn’t tell you the second you came home was because Lucky didn’t want us to. But I don’t care what he says anymore.”

Jason winced. “This isn’t like the the time she was being blackmailed, was it? Because she promised me she’d come to me if—oh, it’s worse. I can—” He gestured at her expression. “You have a terrible poker face.” He took a deep breath. “Okay. Tell me what happened so I can fix it, and then we’ll talk about Europe.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You didn’t think I was giving up, did you?” His lips curved in a half smile, and there was a glint in his eyes she almost couldn’t believe was aimed at her.

Elizabeth bit her lip, looked away, but smiled, because oh, man, she wanted to say yes. And maybe…well, it wasn’t like he’d able to able to fix Emily’s problem in one day. “Let’s just focus on Emily. And we might need to go, uh, go somewhere people can’t hear us.” She glanced around the parking lot.

“How many laws did you break?”

“Me?” Elizabeth flattened her hand against her chest, opened her eyes wide. “None. Personally. But I might be an accessory after the fact. Or an accomplice. You’d know better than me.”

“Accomplice,” Jason repeated. He took her elbow, gestured towards the bar. “Okay, let’s go upstairs to my room and you can tell me exactly how much trouble you’re in.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, letting him steer her towards the front door. “You act like we plan these things. I promise you, Emily did not intend to wake up next to—” She paused. “And we didn’t want to need a freezer that big, but you know, sometimes things just happen.”

Jason held the door open for her. “A freezer?” he echoed. “Yeah, start from the top. And don’t leave anything out.”

+25

Now I breathe flames each time I talk
My cannons all firin’ at your yacht
They say, “Move on”, but you know, I won’t
And women like hunting witches, too
Doing your dirtiest work for you
It’s obvious that wanting me dead
Has really brought you two together

September 2007

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been filled with this kind of fury — this overwhelming, all-consuming blind rage.

For over a year, she’d been walking around in a fog of lies, guilt, and secrets, twisting herself inside and out to do what she believed was right for her children. She’d done unspeakably horrible things to people who deserved more from her in the name of saving her marriage because she’d been so sure he was the father her boys deserved.

And now, in the middle of the living room that she’d used to dream about calling her own, the last of those blind shields faded away. Elizabeth looked at her husband, at the man she’d pledged to love and to honor and to cherish, and wondered exactly when all of those words had become lies to them both.

“We don’t need to make this difficult,” Lucky said, shoving his hands in his pockets, his tone cool and confident. “The house is mine, you knew that when Dad offered it—but you can take all the time you need if you don’t want to go to Audrey’s—”

“We don’t need to make this difficult,” Elizabeth repeated. “I’m sorry. You just walked in this door, told me you were sleeping with another woman, and now you think you’re going to dictate the terms of walking away from me?”  Her lips curved. “Really? You think that’s how it’s going to go?”

Lucky sighed. “I understand that you’re hurt, but you lied to me—”

“You think I feel guilty because I didn’t tell you I slept with Jason? Hey, let’s talk about that night, huh? Do you remember what you were doing? Or should I ask, who you were doing? In our bed?”

Lucky pressed his lips together. “So, what, Maxie was your get out of jail free card—”

“You’re damn right she is. Because my night with Jason was one night. And your affair with Maxie? Continued. Or did you think Nikolas wouldn’t tell me he found you with her in Kelly’s before I filed for divorce?”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, listen—”

“Go on, explain to me why somehow that’s still not your fault. Just like shoving me to the ground, telling so many people that I’d been sleeping with Patrick that Epiphany and Kelly thought he might be Jake’s father.” She folded her arms. “I am dying to know how you’re going to get yourself out of this one.”

“Okay—look, maybe we don’t talk about last year—”

“Why? Isn’t that why you went out and slept with Sam? Revenge for Jason?” Elizabeth stepped closer to him. “Because she made you feel like a man? She paid attention to you? She stroked your…ego? All the things I refuse to do? Isn’t that how it happened?”

“I shouldn’t have had to go to another woman to get some damn affection—” Lucky retorted.   “You’re just angry that I could get it from someone else—”

“I’m angry because I twisted myself into pieces I don’t even recognize to be good enough for you, and I’m asking myself why the hell I ever thought you were worth it.” She tossed her hair back. “You’re not. You are nothing more than a little boy screaming that he’s a man while we all laugh at your face.”

His face was florid. “Shut up—”

“You think Sam gives a damn about you? You think what you have is real?” She snorted, and his flush darkened. “Let me tell you something about Sam. Something I found out a few days ago—she knew Maureen Harper had kidnapped Jake. She watched her do it.”

“No, that’s—”

“And a few weeks ago, she hired men to threaten me and the boys in the park. Did you know that, Lucky? Did you know your precious Sam who makes you feel like a big man is nothing more than a scheming liar out for blood? You didn’t think it was strange that she picked you to be her bodyguard? The husband of the woman Jason slept with? I know you’re not that bright, Lucky, but come on. She reeled you in like a fish on a hook, and you let her.”

“You have no right to talk about her or me like that!”

God it felt so good to say all the things she’d only felt for the last six months—for a year. How she’d made herself into someone Elizabeth didn’t recognize—

“Here’s how this divorce is going to happen, Lucky,” Elizabeth said. “I am going to pack my boys up tonight, and we’re going to a hotel. And then I’m calling a lawyer to file for complete and sole custody. I don’t want a dime of child support from you. You’re getting out of my life, and this time, it’s for good.”

“You think you’re going take my boys from me? You got another thing coming—”

“I think I’m going to take my boys out of this house of lies and forget you ever existed. Cameron’s not your son. He wasn’t good enough for you to get sober for, and he wasn’t enough for you to keep your pants zipped with two different women, so you don’t get to use him now.”

“Jake is mine—”

Elizabeth stopped at the base of the stairs, quirked a brow. “Oh, really? Another thing Sam hasn’t told you. What a shocker. Why didn’t she help us when Jake was kidnapped? Why didn’t she tell anyone about Maureen? Because she knows the truth.”

Lucky stared at her. “Shut up. Don’t say another word. I don’t want to hear—”

“You should have heard it ten months ago. But I thought you were worth the lie. I thought I was responsible for fixing you, Lucky. So I lied to you, and I lied to the world, and I lied to Jason, who never deserved it. You aren’t Jake’s father.”

He took two steps towards her, his hand curling into a fist at his side. “You’re lying now. To hurt me.”

“Am I?” Elizabeth rested her hand on the banister. “Rewind the last year in your head, Lucky, and ask yourself if I’m lying.” Some of the anger had burned away. “I thought I’d feel guilty telling you the truth, that I’d feel awful for what I’d done to you, but all I feel is humiliated for ever thinking you were worth the effort. You’re not worth the breath I’m using to tell you the truth. But, hey, if you really think I’m lying. Go get a paternity test. Pick the doctor. Pick the lab. The truth is what it is.”

“How could you do this? How could you lie to me, to Jason—”

“I didn’t lie to Jason. He’s known for months.” Her voice faltered. “And I will never forgive myself for asking him to let it continue. To let you raise his son as if you were ever the better man. But that’s the only mistake I feel regret for. Any guilt I felt over you died the minute you walked in this door and told me you were having another affair.”

“I want you out of this house.”

“Finally. Something we agree on. I’ll be out in an hour. I’ll send Emily for the rest of my things. I hope you and Sam are happy until she gets bored with her revenge.”

Elizabeth climbed the rest of the stairs, heard the front door slam just as she reached the top, then took a deep breath. Her hands were trembling as she reached into her pocket for her cell phone.  She dialed a familiar number.

“Jason? Are you busy? I have something to tell you.”

+28

Something med school did not cover
Someone’s daughter, someone’s mother
Holds your hand through plastic now
“Doc, I think she’s crashing out”
And some things you just can’t speak about
Only 20 minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany
Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you’ve seen

April 2020

The house was dark and quiet when she pulled in the driveway, and for a long moment, Elizabeth Webber sat in the driver’s seat, staring up at windows. They were all pulled shut and locked—they’d never been opened even after spring had broken over upstate New York. In fact, she couldn’t even remember if she’d turned off the central heating yet.

Finally, she switched off the ignition and shoved the door open. She was still on autopilot, still moving forward, functioning even though her brain seemed to have turned off. Her body felt strangely small and unclothed, shed of the heavy hospital gowns, masks, and shields that had been her uniform for nearly a month.

The world had felt normal only weeks ago, chugging along at a normal pace. She’d gone to work, taken care of her boys, passed her son off to his father for his weekends, and enjoyed life with her friends.

Elizabeth stopped in front of the door, staring at the key in her hand, almost forgetting how to use it. When had she last been home?

Finally, she was at the door. She dropped her bag by the coat rack and tugged the mask off her face, wincing at the straps that dug into her ears. She hadn’t found the time to buy comfortable masks, and they were so limited at the hospital that she’d grabbed some pediatric ones.

Hospital staff was expected to be completely masked up from the time they went off duty until they reached home.

Not that this felt like home right now.

Elizabeth looked around blearily at the cold fireplace, the clean floors, and the tables. She missed her boys. She missed the sound of them, the sight of them, the evidence of their lives. Books and toys and clothes—

A sob crawled up her throat, but she forced it down. She had one more thing she needed to do before she could crawl into bed for the next twelve hours.

Elizabeth sat on the sofa and reached for the tablet charging on the table. She cradled it in her hands, then clicked contacts.

A moment later, FaceTime connected, and her youngest’s son face appeared on the screen, his smile bright. “Mommy! Mommy!”

“Hey, baby.” Elizabeth smiled in return. “Where are your brothers?”

“Right here.” Ten-year-old Aiden shifted so that he could reveal he had a brother on either side of him—thirteen-year-old Jake and sixteen-year-old Cameron. “We waited for you.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I got stuck at work a little longer.” The world felt lighter and heavier all at the same time. There were her precious babies, the family she’d sent away to keep safe as she worked to save others. They were okay. They were healthy, and they had each other.

“Work okay?” Cam asked, reaching to hold the tablet steady. “You looked tired, Mom.”

“I am, but it’s okay. I get to sleep for a few hours.” And maybe she’d eat. She remembered Patrick shoving a muffin in her face at some point that day. Had that been today? “How’s school?”

Jake grimaced. “I hate Zoom,” he muttered. “Half the kids don’t turn on the camera, and my teachers spend most of the time telling them to do it, and then before you know it, we’re done. Plus, they didn’t even show us how to do these stupid equations—”

“Your teachers are trying—”

“I know, Mom. They hate Zoom, too—”

“Miss Tait said that I got a star,” Aiden said, poking his head in. “She showed me! She made a star chart in her house, and we’re all on there! It’s like school only not because we don’t get recess which is stupid—but—”

“They’re still making us take our AP exams,” Cameron said bitterly. “We need to get this stupid software and set up on our computers—”

“I missed my ELA Zoom,” Jake interrupted. “I didn’t mean to, but the teacher was late, so I thought I didn’t have it, so I left, but then she emailed me. She’s really mad, Mom.”

Elizabeth’s head swam as she processed all of that, tried to think of something to say. To remind Jake to have more patience with teachers who were trying so very hard, and for Cameron to have some grace with the world even though it sounded insane testing was still happening—

“Hey—” another voice came from behind them. “One at a time. Your mom’s tired.” Jason Morgan, Jake’s father, came into view over the sofa. “I talked to Jake’s ELA teacher; it’s fine. She had internet issues and was three minutes late.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “In college—”

“You’re in eighth grade, not college,” Jason said simply. “And now you’ll remember to wait longer next time.”

“I know,” Jake muttered.

“It’s fifteen minutes in college,” Elizabeth said, but now she was smiling. Because, of course, her son had overreacted. He had her flair for the dramatic. “You should keep that in mind.”

“It’s fine about the test,” Cameron said. “Jason said he’d have Spinelli remote into the computer and make sure it was set up. The directions were confusing, but Spinelli loves that crap.”

“Oh, well, thank him for me.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know how much Zoom classes suck. No one likes them. And I’ll make sure I thank Miss Tait for the stars the next time I see her, Aiden.”

“Jason did that!” Aiden told her. “But she likes you better.”

“That’s because she’s dating a cop, and Dad works at the warehouse,” Jake told Aiden.

“What does that mean?” Aiden wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Jason cut off his son with a look. The blond teen just snickered. “Hey, go upstairs and play some video games. I need to talk to your mom. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“He’s gonna tell her that he caught you Zooming with Emma,” Jake told Cameron, who scowled. Jake jumped up and dashed for the stairs, the oldest chasing him. Aiden, who never wanted to miss any action, followed.

Jason sat on the sofa, the tablet in his hands. “Sorry about that—”

“No, no—” Elizabeth rubbed the side of her cheek. “I’m sorry. I should have—I should have taken a hotel room or something—the three of them are a lot to have around the penthouse—”

“It’s okay. They keep it from being too quiet,” Jason told her. “I stopped by your place today and put more groceries in the fridge. And I turned off the central.”

“You didn’t have to—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Thank you for taking them. Laura’s putting out so many fires—all these stupid protests over the shutdown, and your mom hasn’t left the hospital. I tried to get her to come home with me, but she’s still trying to track down more respirators and protective equipment—” She closed her eyes, her mind drifting as she lost track of what she was saying.

“You need to get some sleep—”

“I do, but I don’t—” She looked at him. “You and the boys are the first people I’ve seen in days that don’t work at the hospital or aren’t dying.”

He was quiet for a moment. “It’s bad, isn’t it? I’m keeping Jake and Aiden from the news, but Cameron knows.”

“Um, we lost four more today in my ward.” She stopped. “Do you remember Father Coates?”

“Yeah—” His face creased. “Oh.”

“Yeah. He couldn’t even—” Her eyes were so heavy. “We couldn’t even let in anyone for last rites, so I found the Bible, and I did it for him. I don’t know if I did it right. Do you think it’ll work?”

“I do,” he promised her. “God wouldn’t—”

“I’m not sure I believe in God anymore.” The tears came then, the hot rushing release that streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just had a bad day—” She put the tablet on the table and put her head in her hands.

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m fine. I should have—I should have gone home with Patrick and Robin, but they haven’t had a minute to be alone in weeks—they’ve been working in different wards and opposite shifts—” She picked the tablet back up and looked at him.

“I hate that you’re doing this alone.”

“There was no other choice. I couldn’t do my job and stay with the boys. I might have brought it to them. I know kids aren’t getting sick right now, but that’s because we shut down the schools. They’re not in the world, and God, you don’t see what this does to people—there are no visitors.” She closed her eyes. “Do you remember the quarantine before Jake was born?”

“Of course.”

“It was different. I don’t know why it felt different.”

“Because it was just us, and it was done to us. We could work for a cure, for a vaccine ourselves. And maybe Cameron was too young then to know what was going on.” He paused. “I get it. Because I could help then. I went out, and I found the damn vaccine. I can’t do anything but stay here and keep the boys in school and not murdering each other. It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“It’s everything to me. When this is over—and I have to believe the day will come when it is—I know that my boys are safe. It’s everything,” she repeated. “Are you sure they’re not in the way?”

“No. No,” he repeated. “Believe it or not, everything is shut down. I don’t know how long any of that will last, but hopefully, until this is over.” Jason hesitated. “Have they come out with any new guidelines about transmission? I mean—are they sure that you can’t just really shower and disinfect at the hospital, then come home—”

“They’re doing studies, but we don’t know anything. We don’t know how to treat it—we don’t know why some people get it and show no symptoms—” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes again. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Robin’s working on that in the lab, but we just don’t know enough yet.”

“When do you go into work tomorrow?” he asked. “I can bring the boys by. We’ll just be in the driveway. They need to see you.”

“Around nine. That would—” Elizabeth forced herself to smile. “That would be great. Don’t they have meetings—”

“I’ll email their teachers. They’ll understand. Miss Tait asked about you. Wanted you to know Aiden is doing great. Cameron’s English teacher said his essay he wrote last week was his best all year, and Jake—well, he hates everything about this, but we’re dealing with it.”

“I hate everything about this, too,” she muttered.

“He has your resilience,” Jason told her. “He hates it right now, but he’ll get through it.”

“Resilience, huh?” She laughed. “You used to call it stubbornness.”

“It can be both.” They were quiet for a long minute. “I’ll call the boys back down—”

“No, no.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Cameron will know I was crying, and they worry about me enough. I’ll see them tomorrow. That’s something to look forward to. Maybe I can open a window, and we can talk if you keep them near the sidewalk.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even—how’s Danny handling all of this?”

“Okay. We’re FaceTiming as much as we can, but I haven’t seen him since this started.” Jason paused. “We’re basically quarantining here, so Sonny and Carly are talking about doing a pod with their kids, and it’d be good for the boys to see Joss and someone other than me. I’m hoping Sam will let Danny come over and be part of it.”

“That sounds good. Really.” She sighed. “Is Sam still mad?”

“No,” Jason said quickly, which meant that she was. Sam hadn’t been happy Jason had agreed to quarantine with Elizabeth’s boys, claiming they’d been exposed thanks to Elizabeth’s job and had decided Danny wouldn’t come to Jason’s for the shutdown. That had been a month ago, and Elizabeth had all but forgotten about it with everything going on at work.

“I’ll let you deal with that since I don’t care,” Elizabeth said without thinking. Then winced. “Sorry—”

“No, you have more important things to worry about. It’s fine. Even if I hadn’t take Aiden and Cam, Jake would be here, and she’d have the same argument. She’s just scared because of Danny and the cancer.”

“I know. I know. She should be more cautious. I would be, too.” That didn’t change the fact that Sam could and would use any opportunity to take a jab at Elizabeth and Jake, but that was a problem for another day. “I’m going to head up to bed. Tell the boys I love them, and I’ll see them tomorrow.”

“Okay. Eat something first,” he said as her finger hovered over the red button to end the call. “I left soup.”

And now Elizabeth’s laughter was genuine and full-throated. Tears slid down her cheeks again. “You’ve been waiting twenty years to say that.”

“Couldn’t resist.”

She ended the call and then went to heat up the soup.

+22

Betty, I’m here on your doorstep
And I planned it out for weeks now, but
It’s finally sinkin’ in
Betty, right now is the last time
I can dream about what happens when
You see my face again

July 2004

She’d thought about this day for more than a month, since the moment they’d placed her perfectly healthy baby boy in her arms on the day of his birth. A little scrap of life that had no business owning a set of developed lungs when he’d been born well before his due date.

“I don’t understand,” she’d told the doctor. “The doctor said the baby was measuring bigger than expected, but—”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Miss Webber. But that’s not a seven-month preemie you’re holding in your arms. He’s a full-term baby. Count yourself lucky. No trip to the NICU for him. You can both be released tomorrow.”

“Oh, boy,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked down at her son, all the possibilities and improbable thoughts swirling in her head. How could it be true?

But how could it be wrong?

She’d wanted to have all the answers, to be sure, before she went home and complicated everything. Especially with the stories Emily was telling her during their weekly calls. Elizabeth listened as Emily described the grief of losing Nikolas, and the bewildering twists and turns her brother’s life was taking.

“It’s like he’s someone else, Liz. I don’t get it.”

Neither did Elizabeth, but the truth was the truth, so she’d asked her OB to get her records from Port Charles, and he’d been curious, too, reading over the prenatal files she’d brought with her.

“I agree with you, your doctor in New York doesn’t appear to have questioned the information you gave him about your last menstrual cycle, but you said you’d had some health issues that year?”

“Oh. So many,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “Why?”

“Well, you know, stress and illness can cause problems with that. But you told me there was a car accident.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, it should have been found then. Was it serious?”

“Sort of. I had a head injury—” But nothing else. Barely a bruise on the rest of her body. She bit her lip. “Can you find out? Can’t we ask them what tests they ran? You could get those files.”

And so he had, and Elizabeth sat in her little rented apartment in Napa, staring at the results. Negative test. Well, that was that, of course.  She hadn’t been pregnant the night of the accident.

“Well, that doesn’t mean anything,” her doctor had said when Elizabeth had reported that. “Looking over the file, it makes sense that you wouldn’t have miscarried. And you said the only possible conception date was a few days prior to this?”

“Yes—”

“It takes ten days for your body to register the pregnancy. I’m sorry, Miss Webber. I know you were looking for some definitive proof before you, ah, informed the interested party, but the only thing that can resolve this is a paternity test.”

That had been the last thing Elizabeth wanted to hear — to go home, to step into the middle of that mess with a maybe you’re already a father, whoops! — was the height of insanity.

But then her son took care of it for her, at least in her own mind. Cameron had been born with clear blue eyes, but so were all babies, she’d told herself. As the weeks passed, and Cam lost some of that newborn look—

One morning, she strapped him into the safety seat on her kitchen counter, and tickled him under his chin— Cameron had opened his eyes, looked at her, and she’d known. Those were his eyes. The color. The shape. And once she’d seen that, there wasn’t much else to argue with herself about.

But still, Elizabeth hesitated, because the situation at home was only more dicey. Nikolas was alive with amnesia, and Emily was in the middle of scheming to get him back. And her baby’s father—well, his situation had gotten more fraught. He’d divorced, nearly married another woman who was also pregnant with his child (though Emily had her doubts, she’d confided during a call), and an ex-boyfriend had come after her—it was all crazy. Elizabeth was lucky she was far away from it all.

To go home and tell him that maybe but almost certainly, he’d made another baby while he’d been engaged to the same woman he’d apparently (maybe) cheated on again after they were married to make a second kid—

Maybe Elizabeth should just live in California forever and no one would ask questions.

But then Cameron turned eight weeks old, and he looked so much like his father that it wasn’t a maybe, almost certainly anymore but a definitely, for sure, holy crap.

And then she got the call that Lila Quartermaine had passed in her sleep.

Elizabeth gave notice to her landlord, apologizing and promising to pay the fee for breaking her lease. She’d packed her baby up, and boarded a plane.

The day was here—she’d plotted and rehearsed the speech a thousand times. Hi, remember me?  No, that was stupid. Hey. One time we had sex which wasn’t a good idea, but now here’s the result—

No, that wasn’t right either. Wanna play guess who’s the daddy?

She rewrote and rewrote the script a dozen times, trying to think of every variation of the truth and every possible reaction he’d have—

And yet, the moment arrived, and she was still blank. What would she say? How would he react? Oh, God, how would everyone else react?

He’d never taken her off the list of visitors allowed unannounced access to the penthouse floor, and Elizabeth appreciated that small reminder that they were friends, and that whatever happened, it would somehow be okay. Eventually.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Elizabeth cuddled her son more closely, took a deep breath. Here it was. No more imagining what would happen. This was it. The last moment to turn back.

But someone downstairs must have called up anyway because the door to the penthouse opened, and Jason stepped out, smiling at her. “Hey. Wally said you were coming up. I didn’t know you were back.” He looked at the baby in her arms, then back at her. “How was the flight?”

“Long. Babies don’t like to fly,” Elizabeth said almost breathlessly. “Um—”

“Yeah, there’s something about the air pressure. I remember that with Michael.” Jason’s smiled faded slightly, and he looked at her. “Is Ric bothering you? Is that what you came by for? Because I’ll take care of it—”

“N-no. No one knows I’m back yet. I’m—” She took a deep breath. “I came to see you.”

Jason tilted his head slightly, opened his mouth, but then another woman stepped out behind him, with dark hair, and a bulging belly. “What are you doing out here?” the woman demanded. Sam. This was Sam. The mother of Jason’s other maybe child. She looked at Elizabeth, at the baby —

And saw what Elizabeth had seen that day in the kitchen. Her dark eyes widened. “Oh. Damn. That’s going to complicate things.”

“What?” Jason asked.

Sam had seen so the truth so quickly that it gave Elizabeth a little bit of courage. “I don’t want to complicate anything,” she told the other woman. “It’s just—I can’t do anything to change what is.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m going to go inside,” Sam said. She pursed her lips, looked at Jason for a long moment, then back at the baby, then at Elizabeth. “Oh, hey, by the way, Jason didn’t knock me up in case that helps—”

“Sam—” Jason started, but the other woman had already headed for the penthouse, tossing a half-hearted wave over her shoulder. “Elizabeth—”

“He was born the first week of May,” Elizabeth said in a rush. “And the doctors were worried because I was only seven months pregnant—but then he was born, and he wasn’t—” She swallowed hard, and now she saw Jason looking at her, the realization creeping into his eyes. “He wasn’t premature. I—I didn’t know that. I would have said something, but I didn’t know.”

Jason stepped closer to her, a hand raising up, hovering just a few inches in front of Cameron, the baby’s eyes following his fingers, then reaching for them. His hand wrapped around Jason’s thumb.

“I know this the last thing you expected, and I wanted you to know that I’m not asking for anything you don’t want to give because I know I can do this on my own, but you needed to know—”

“You still haven’t told me,” Jason said, his voice almost inaudible. He raised his eyes to hers. “Can you—I need to hear you say it.”

“He’s yours,” Elizabeth said, and Jason closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he opened them, she saw the flood of emotion, the hope— She held him out. “You’re his father, Jason.”

Jason took the baby from her, gently tucking him into the crook of his arm. “I’m his father,” he repeated, then he looked at her and grinned. “He’s mine?”

“Yes.” Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry. I should have come sooner, but—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Jason reached for her arm. “You’re here now. And I can explain what’s going on with Sam. Come inside. I want to know everything.”

+32

But I’m a fire, and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade ocean wave blues come
All these people think love’s for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

August 2002

“But just for tonight…I don’t want to be safe.”

The words were soft, almost carried away by the breeze rolling off the lake, but they reached his ears, and Jason turned, looked at her, at her quiet expression.

Elizabeth reached for his hand, tugging it from his pocket, then wrapped her soft fingers around it. He stared down at it, wondering why, even with the bandage on her arm, she was still standing here, looking at him like he wasn’t anything but death and poison to anyone standing too close.

He swallowed, tried to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t release it. Instead, she stepped closer, brought the other hand up to lay it against his chest, her touch searing straight through the black cotton shirt.

“Elizabeth.”

“Tonight. Just tonight,” she said, her hand sliding up to his neck, brushing the line of his jaw. “You can walk away from me tomorrow.”

Jason swallowed hard. “I don’t want to walk away from you at all.” She’d done the walking, hadn’t she? “But I—”

“—have to, I know you believe that.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “But Sonny’s not going home alone tonight, is he? Why should you?”

He closed his eyes, thinking of nothing else but the way her skin felt against his, the caress of her fingers against his cheek. “Elizabeth?”

“Unless you don’t want me.” He heard the uncertainty now in her voice, and his eyes flew back open. Her lips trembled. “I thought I’d misread everything before, and I made a mistake. But then, at the warehouse, y-you looked at me.”

He’d wanted her for too long, and now she was standing here, offering herself — all he had to do was reach for her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I only hurt without you, Jason.” She stepped towards him, closer and closer until her body brushed his. Her hand curved around the nape of his neck, her nails lightly scratching at his hairline—everything tightened, and he thought — why was he saying no? Why wouldn’t he just take what she wanted to give him?

“Just for tonight,” Jason said, and her lips parted. “And you won’t argue with me tomorrow?”

Her lips curved, and a knowing glint sparked in her eye, and he lost his breath at how beautiful she was and how stupid he was for still standing here instead of dragging her to the nearest room. “I’ll make you a deal. If you wake up tomorrow, and you haven’t changed your mind, I won’t say a word.”

He couldn’t help himself — he smiled, shook his head. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you know when I want something, when I really want it, I don’t let anything stand in my way. It just took me a little time to realize that something—someone—is you.” She was wistful now. “I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened—”

He pressed a finger against her lips. “No more apologies,” he said. He stroked the line of her jaw. “Come with me.”

“Anywhere.”

He changed their grip on their joined hands, tugging her towards the dock stairs. Before he lost his nerve, before she changed her mind.

It was a short ride from the parking lot at Kelly’s to the garage underneath Harborview Towers. Her fingers were trembling when she handed him the helmet, and she tried to hide it by smoothing out her hair, mussed from the ride.

Jason caught her hand, felt the tremors. “If you’ve changed your mind—”

“That’s not why I’m—” She leaned up, pressed her mouth to his, backing him against the wall of the parking garage, winding her arms around his neck. Startled, Jason took a half second to register her meaning — she’d been shaking not from nerves, but desire.

He gripped her waist, dragging her tight against him, digging his fingers into the fabric of her black dress. “We need to get on the elevator now,” he murmured against her neck. “Or we’re going to end up on the security cameras.”

Her cheeks were flaming, her eyes dazed when he pulled back. Her hand tucked firmly in his, he headed for the elevators, stabbing his finger at the button, muttering impatiently. What if she changed her mind halfway up, what if he came to his senses—

The doors dinged and Elizabeth pulled him on board. He hit the button for the penthouse floor.  “There are cameras, aren’t there?” she asked, wistfully. “You and Sonny are too careful for there not to be.”

It might be the first time he regretted the security that kept the building safe. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Yeah.”

She sighed. “Fine. I can wait fifteen floors.”

He shook his head, grinning slightly. “Stand over there or I’ll forget the cameras are there.” She shot him another wicked look, but obeyed, backing up against the other side of the elevator. How did she do it, he wondered? Less than an hour ago, he’d been laid low, and now all he could see was her, standing across from him, her hair windblown and tangled from his hands, her lips swollen from his kisses—

The elevator lurched to a stop, and the doors opened. Elizabeth fisted a hand in his shirt, pushed him out into the hallway, fastening her hot mouth against his. He hit the hallway wall hard, one hand in her hair, the other digging in his pockets for the keys.

“Still cameras,” he managed against her mouth, and she groaned, resting her head against his chest. “Let me get my keys—stop distracting me—”

“Distracting you? You’re the one looking at me like that,” she grumbled, but he towed her towards the door, shoving the key in and twisting it. He threw open the door, didn’t even bother to retrieve the keys from the lock. He pulled her inside, and got the door shut just as she pushed him against it, her hands at his waist, tugging at the belt he wore. She whipped it out of the loops, and dimly he heard it hit something behind them.

His fingers fumbled for the zipper of her dress, but kept losing it in her hair, and getting distracted by her quick hands reaching inside his pants—  “This will be over too quick if you keep that up,” he warned her.

“Promises, promises,” she moaned, but he wasn’t going to let it be like that. With one hand, held both her wrists together over her head, then turned her so that he could get to the zipper on her dress. He tugged it down, then released her hands to peel the fabric over her shoulders—she shimmied and wiggled until it had pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but lacy black scraps.

Jason dropped his head to her shoulder, took a deep breath. “Oh, man. I changed my mind.”

Her eyes went wide, then narrowed into slits. “I’m going to kill you—”

“Not about that—” He kissed her, cupping her face with both hands. “About tomorrow.”

“What does that mean?” She drew back, looked at him. “Jason—”

“It means you don’t have to argue with me. I can’t—” Some of the urgency faded, and he brushed his mouth against hers, kissing her reverently, slowly, until she nearly collapsed against him. “If this is what you want. If I’m what you want—”

“You know you are.” She licked her lips. “I know what I’m getting into, Jason, I’ve always known. And if being safe means not having you, then I told you, I don’t want to be safe. I want this. I want you.”

She found the hem of his shirt, whipped it over his head, then splayed her hands against his muscled chest, the feel of the lace scraping against his skin. “Do you want me?”

“More than my next breath.” He kissed her again, then lifted her in his arms. “But I’m going to do this right.”

“Right? What happened to right now?” she asked with a pout as he headed towards the stairs.

“Oh, it’s still right now. But we’ve got all night.”

“Fine. Ravish me in a bed instead of against a door,” she said with a sigh. “We can always come back to that.”

“I like the way you think.”

+26

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars
From when they pulled me apart
But what you did was just as dark
Darling, this was just as hard
As when they pulled me apart

February 2007

“What about our baby?”

He asked the question, but he knew what she’d say next. What she always said next. How many years had he been trapped in this vicious cycle? One step forward, five steps back, and somehow, Jason never got to be the one who came out ahead. He was always somewhere back at the starting line, never sure why no one had even told him they were competing.

Elizabeth looked at him for a long moment, her beautiful blue eyes heavy with sorrow, and he knew the answer. She wanted him to let her keep living the lie, to keep pretending that Lucky Spencer would ever make her happy—

She opened her mouth to say the words that would reach inside his chest, rip out his heart, and grind beneath the heel of her shoe—

But somehow, this time, he stopped it. He held up a hand. “Don’t say it.” Elizabeth closed her eyes, bewildered. “I can’t hear you say it.”

“Jason—” She sucked in a shaky sob. “Don’t do this—”

“Don’t do what?”  he managed. “Be hurt? Angry?” He shook his head, looked out over the horizon. Even now, he wasn’t really angry with her. Not deep down. Even when she deserved it. He should be. She’d lied to him for months—

But he’d started it by accepting Carly’s words as the truth, and he’d never given her the space to tell the truth. No one had. She’d finally done it, and he’d thought they’d turned a corner.

“You said it yourself,” Elizabeth said. “Sam would be so hurt—”

“I know that—” Jason winced, exhaled, and shook his head. “I know. But I can’t let that matter.” He looked at her, really looked at her, letting everything he felt show in his eyes—the bewilderment, the hurt — “Is Lucky a better father than me?”

“No! Of course not—”

“Then why? I’m telling you I want to be this child’s father. I’m telling you how much it matters to me—” His voice was rough, almost broken, because why wasn’t he ever good enough? “And you’re going to take that away from me.”

Tears shimmered, then slid down her cheeks. “I just—the truth is going to hurt so many people—”

“Are you sorry that this baby is mine?” he cut in.

“No, I told you on the elevator—” She closed her eyes, turned away. She flattened both her hands against the ledge. “But how can you believe me when I’m doing this to you?” she said almost to herself. “How did I get myself right back into this situation?”

“Elizabeth—”

“I keep doing and saying the wrong thing, and all I do is hurt people. Nothing I do is ever right. I’m so tired, Jason. Of hurting you. I don’t know why I keep doing it. I knew what I was asking was awful. Terrible. Especially after Alan, and I was doing it anyway.” She looked at him. “I keep hurting you. Why? Why do I always pick the wrong choice?”

“What do you want?” he asked, taking her by the shoulder. “If you really want Lucky, if you want to rebuild your life with him, I can accept that. I know you loved him before he got hurt. I know how seriously you take your promises. You married him, Elizabeth. That matters to you. But what kind of life can you have built on a lie?”

Her lip trembled. “I don’t know.”

“You’re asking me this because you know he won’t marry you again if he knew.”

She closed her eyes, nodded. “No. He’d be furious.” She opened her eyes again, tears clinging to her lashes. “You asked me to marry you even before you knew this baby was yours. Did you mean that?”

Startled, Jason dragged a hand through his hair. “Y-Yes. I meant it. Every time I asked you—”

“Says something doesn’t it.” Her exhale was shaky. “I’m not going to ask you. You deserve better. My child deserves better,” she murmured. “Lucky wouldn’t have gone to rehab if he’d known. I wasn’t enough.”

“Elizabeth.”

“Cameron and I weren’t enough to get sober. That’s why I left. Why I divorced him. And this baby was only enough because it was supposed to be his.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not asking you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I started this conversation, I’m sorry I put you through any of this.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Jason said, touching her shoulder. “I just want you to be okay. To be happy.”

“Happy,” she repeated, with a sigh. “I’m not sure I even know what that is anymore. You weren’t even angry with me. Frustrated. Disappointed. Hurt. But not angry.” She looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Why aren’t you ever angry with me? Why do you let me keep hurting you like this?”

“I—” Jason exhaled slowly. “Because you’re usually hurting yourself worse than whatever you’re doing to me. You’re the one that would have had to live with this lie, Elizabeth. Day in and day out. Watching Lucky with this baby, knowing it’s not his. What if he looks like me? How long before the guilt would eat you alive? I know you, Elizabeth. You always put Lucky first, and you think that’s what you’re doing now. But maybe Lucky deserves better, too.”

“Maybe we all do.” She rubbed her cheek, then sighed. “It’s so hard, and it really shouldn’t be.” She smiled faintly. “I’m going to tell him the truth. That you’re the father of my child, and that you’re going to be in my life. You’re the father. And you deserve to be, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

“And you’ll tell Sam?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll go home and do that.” It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to, but they’d get past it. At least Sam knew the situation existed, which was more than Lucky did. “But I’ll wait for you to tell Lucky. In case—”

“In case I change my mind.” Elizabeth held his gaze for a long moment, then reached into her pocket, retrieving her cell phone. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she raised it to her ear. “Lucky? Hey. Do you have a minute? Okay. I have to tell you something, and I have to do it before I lose my nerve, so don’t interrupt—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason said, keeping his voice pitched low. “You don’t have to—”

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for months, but I keep finding reasons not to, but it stops today. I slept with Jason in August, and he’s the baby’s biological father.” The words tumbled out in a rush. Even from here, Jason could hear Lucky’s raised voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t marry you again without you—” Her voice broke, and she held out the phone. “He hung up.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was easier,” she murmured. “If I’d been looking at him in the eye, I’d might never have done it. I couldn’t even tell you until I thought I was going to die.”

“Okay, but—”

“You should probably…go find Sam. Tell her. Lucky knows now, and I don’t know how he’ll handle it.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that part.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t think—” He cleared his throat. “I should go then. Do you need—”

“We’ll deal with all of that later, Jason.” She managed a smile. “I feel better, you know. Not great, because I’m pretty sure I just blew up my life, but at least—well, at least there are no more lies. I can live with whatever happens next.”

“Thank you—”

“Don’t thank me for doing what I should have done months ago. I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. “I never had a right to keep you out of this, and I won’t do it again. Thank you for not letting me do it this time.”

+24

Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?
I’m not cut out for all these cynical clones
These hunters with cell phones
Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
I don’t belong, and my beloved, neither do you
Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I’m setting off, but not without my muse

July 2002

The rolling green hills rising over the crystal blue lake could have been a painting — and in fact, they’d been memorialized on canvas by many a famous artist over the centuries. The sunlight hit the water like diamonds, though the mists and clouds were just as beautiful in their own way.

Every day Elizabeth woke up in her cozy little cottage only a few minutes from Lake Windermere, she took a minute to be grateful for her escape, for the world she’d left behind. And on this day, she gathered her sketching supplies, tucked them in her satchel, then stepped out of the house. She stopped to check the lock, and when she turned back to the street, she stopped dead.

A few feet away, parked against the curb, a motorcycle sat. And its driver was leaning against it, his arms crossed. A driver with a face she hadn’t seen in more than a year.

She clutched the strap of her bag, looped across her chest, more tightly. Swallowed hard. “Jason.”

“Funny thing happened when I went home a few months ago,” Jason Morgan said, tipping his head slightly to the side in that way he had. “You weren’t there.”

She cleared her throat. “People move. You did.”

“But no one seemed to know where you went.” He straightened to his full height. “Sonny thought you’d gone to Florida after you left the island last December.”

“You know about the island?” Elizabeth made a face.

“Are you asking if I know you were there or if you took poison to fake your death?” Jason asked.

“Uh—”

“Bobbie thought you were in Colorado, visiting with some old friends.”

“Yeah, I’m a little disappointed she believed that one so easily,” Elizabeth muttered. “I haven’t spoken to anyone in Boulder in five years. Who am I looking up? Friends from middle school?”

“Your grandmother wouldn’t answer  the door when I knocked.”

Her lips twitched. “That’s a shame. Gram knows where I am.”

“Nikolas thought you were in California. Lucky said Arizona. I left while they were still arguing.”

“You asked Nikolas? And Lucky?” She bit her lip, trying to hide the smile. “That’s hard to believe. I’m dying to know where Carly thinks I am.”

“I can’t repeat what Carly said in polite company,” he said dryly, and now she didn’t bother to hide her amusement. “Emily said you were traveling. That you’d come into a trust fund from your grandfather on your last birthday and decided not to come back after things with the Cassadines were settled. But she wasn’t sure exactly where you were. You never get specific even when she asked.”

“And yet, you found me, so I guess I didn’t hide all that well.” She started down the street, heading for her usual spot by the lake. After a moment, Jason fell into step next to her. “How?”

“Had a guy pull your passport,” Jason said as if that statement alone wasn’t admitting to anything illegal. “You came into Heathrow in January, but there wasn’t any other hits. Looked at the bank accounts — you opened one in London, but the bank had branches all over the United Kingdom.”

She slid a glance to him out of the corner of her eye. “And so you tracked me down when I went to the bank here?”

“No.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You’d wanted to disappear. And it’s none of my business what you spend your money on. I didn’t want anyone else looking at that either.” Their arms brushed as they headed down towards the water. “I thought you’d want somewhere for your art. The Lake District is good for that.”

“It’s the fact that I picked a town called Bowness-on-Windermere isn’t it? I knew Windermere would give me away,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She dropped her bag on the picnic table. “And I used my real name.”

“And you used your real name, so once I got to the area, it didn’t take long before I heard about Elizabeth Webber, the American artist. You had a show last month. At a gallery.”

“In Keswick, so it’s not much for a start, but I did well enough to qualify for an extension on my tourist visa.” She smiled at him. “What made you go to all that trouble to track me down?”

“Why did you go to so much trouble to be lost?” Jason leaned against the picnic table, folding his arms.

“You know, it really wasn’t so much trouble. I booked the first international flight I could, and it was going to London. I’ve never been to England, so I figured I’d stay a week and figure out where to go next. One of the travel books talked about the Lake District—and Lake Windermere? Felt like a sign. I took a train up here, took one look at the place—” She looked out over the water. “And I knew I could work here. That it would finally be…quiet.” She chewed on her bottom lip, looked back at him. “I called my grandmother, but that was the only person who really needed to know. Like I said, it’s a shame she doesn’t like you.”

“You didn’t tell Emily,” Jason reminded her, and she sighed.

“Yeah. I know. The first time I talked to her, she asked about Lucky and why I didn’t tell him I was breaking the engagement. I hung up on her. It seems silly now,” she confessed, “but I was upset that Lucky was her first question. I’m really tired of my life revolving around Lucky Spencer.”

He absorbed that, then nodded. “Fair enough. When she said you were traveling, I started looking at Italy first.”

“It’s on the list,” Elizabeth said. “The thing about Italy, though…” Their eyes met. “I never really pictured myself going alone.” She paused. “Did you, um, go back? After you left last year?”

“No. I knew it wouldn’t be the same.”

Her cheeks heated and she looked away, biting her lip. “You never said why you came looking for me. I would have thought I’d be the last person you’d want to see when you came back to Port Charles.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” He smiled slowly, and her lips curved in response. How easy it all was so far away from Port Charles and all the people that had stood in judgment of them. “You know, if you have some time, I have the bike—”

Elizabeth snatched up her bag. “I can draw anytime. Let’s go.”

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