The Triple L
It is wonderful to feel the grandness of Canada in the raw, not because she is Canada but because she's something sublime that you were born into, some great rugged power that
you are a part of. (Emily Carr)
Chapter 1
"The Triple L, huh? Let me guess, it stands for Luke, Lucky and Lulu," Dante told her, buckling himself into the passenger side of the car and then leaning over to place a soft kiss upon her lips.
Lulu looked down at her cell phone in the middle console, expecting to see some type of message from her Dad, from Tracy, or from her Mom. Nothing. Not one flashing light displaying a new message.
"Actually, it is for my dad, my mom and Lucky. They had the diner before I was born," Lulu answered, sliding her cell phone back into her purse, "Lucky says it was one of their happiest times."
"Then you came along and they had a whole new adventure," Dante replied, with a grin.
"I don't have that many memories of all of us together when I was Lucky's age. Mom was in the hospital, Dad was who knows where and well, I had Lucky. He tried, my grandmother tried, I didn't help much."
"You wanted your parents," Dante noted, watching the expression of melancholy pass momentarily across her face.
Lulu drove along the snow-encrusted road, thinking about her answer. She had wanted her parents. No child should feel abandoned. She had. For years wondering what she could have done differently to have made them stay. After her abortion, she felt like she had reclaimed her Dad again, as he sat by her side, a father in every sense of the word. He listened to her, was concerned for her, and for a moment it felt like he finally understood her. Accepted her. But, old habits die hard. Once again, he found a new con and left. She barely lowering her defenses, before he disappeared from her side. It was always like that between she and Luke. He would find the time to appear when she was in dire need of him and then just as soon as the smoke cleared, he was gone, within a blink of an eye.
He never stayed for long. He couldn't stay for long. Domesticity was the kiss of death, he once told her. It takes the greatest con man and imprisons him in a life of suburban hell. Instead of bars there was a large house, with a porch and picket fences, kids running under your feet and a wife telling you that you needed to find a job, become responsible. It was enough to drive any man insane, her father had told her. So, it had come as no surprise to her when he decided to run once again. He'd been running most of his life. Even with Tracy, he still found the need to escape Port Charles for several months every year. The surprise was her mother. That she had come to Port Charles without telling anyone. That she was well enough to not only make the trip, but that she was fully capable of mastering a plan. That she had ran off with her father.
Whether that plan was to kidnap Luke, or go along for the ride, unbeknownst to him, was the question. Every bit of it was unlike her mother. The mother that Lulu knew prior to her breakdown was the mature one, family-orientated, calm and stable. She wasn't reckless and free-spirited like her father. Lulu drifted back to her childhood and the stories that Lucky had shared. A smile spread across her face, illuminating it, as she returned to that time. She turned to Dante, as she shared her past.
"Lucky used to read me bedtime stories about all of their grand adventures, but the stories I loved the most were about the Triple L. How normal life was for awhile. I wanted that," Lulu said, her eyes tearing up.
"I'm sorry, baby. That couldn't have been easy. Growing up without both your parents. I can't imagine how you must have felt. The loneliness."
"My Dad showed up every once in awhile, but for the most part it was just my Grandma Leslie and Lucky."
"Until your Dad married Tracy," Dante commented, smiling.
"The fake marriage. Tracy, my step-monster. We had a rough start. She was demanding. She always had to know where I was going and what I was doing. I thought that she was hateful, that she wanted to replace my mother. I was determined to stop her. I was a hellion to the Quartermaines," Lulu laughed.
"But, they loved you anyway," Dante replied, reaching for her hand, his thumb stroking the top.
"I guess so. I loved them, especially, Tracy. But, I never would have told her that. Not then."
"And now you're torn. Do you side with your mother, or Tracy?" Dante answered, understanding Lulu's dilemma.
"Either way, someone is going to get hurt. Somehow, I just feel like I have the most to lose. If he chooses Mom, I'll lose Tracy. If he chooses, Tracy, Mom could suffer a setback. I don't think that I could handle that again, Dante. I don't know what to do. Who do I support?" Lulu asked, distressed, pulling to the side of the gravel road.
"Your father is a complicated man, Lulu. But, from what you told me, he has a good heart. This won't be an easy decision for him either. It's his choice. You can't let that dictate how you feel about Tracy or your mother. You should be able to have both of them in your life. No matter who your father chooses."
"My mother is complicated too. You've met her. How did she act? Did she seem happy?" Lulu asked Dante, curious as to his thoughts on her mother and their conversations.
"I didn't know that she was your mother when I met her. She was just someone who I met at Jake's. She was warm, friendly. She listened. She made me realize how much I needed you in my life. What a mess my life was without you. She talked about disrupting a wedding. I swear to you Lulu, I had no idea it was Tracy and your father's. We never exchanged names and neither of us shared the name of either your father or you in our conversations. She seemed confident. When she spoke about crashing the wedding and taking back her life, I had no doubt that she could do it."
"She said that she wanted to take back her life?" Lulu questioned Dante, her gazed focused on him, " Did she seem confused?"
"No. I know your Mom's history, Lulu. Sonny told me. If you're asking if I think that your mother is reliving her past, the answer is no. She seemed very lucid to me. I think that she just regrets missing out on her life, that she misses your father, your brothers. You. Who can blame her? I spent only a few weeks without you and it was more than I ever want to be apart from you."
"Have I told you how much I love you? You're sexy and smart. I'm glad that you're doing this with me," Lulu expressed.
"You're stuck with me, remember," Dante told her, brushing a strand of hair off of her face, "Baby, I'm here for you. Wherever this ride takes us, bumps in the road and all. We'll handle it together."
"Three hours in customs? Don't they know who I am? I'll have him scrubbing toilets at McDonald's. Earning pennies," Tracy shouted, furious with the airport personnel.
"Maybe next time a constable tells you to sit down, you should do it," Alice answered, following behind Tracy, pulling both her luggage and Tracy's.
"I'm Tracy Quartermaine. You don't tell me to do anything. I tell people what to do. I'm like the royal family. The Quartermaine royal family, dammit," she yelled, pointing at the airport personnel, as the constable and several other members of the Vancouver police escorted them through the airport.
"I'll have all your jobs. You too," she said, turning her head to the left, and directing her gaze on the constable. His face remained impassive. No emotions. He was completely detached, not caring in the slightest for the inconveniences that Tracy Quartermaine was suffering. Which as a result, only infuriated her even more.
"Don't you have anything to say for yourself? An apology? I'm waiting," Tracy Quartermaine said, stopping in the middle of the airport and tapping her foot.
"Taxis are that way," the constable pointed to her left, directing her gaze to a set of glass doors, "Good luck."
"Taxi? I've never gone anywhere in a taxi. Where's my car? I specifically asked for a car and driver," Tracy shouted to his retreating back.
"Who do you think she is in New York?" the baggage handler asked the constable as they walked away,"Maybe she's a famous actress. Do you think she'll really try to get us fired."
"I don't care who she is," the constable answered, "Her claim of authority, whatever she thinks it is, doesn't apply here. There is a word for women like her," the constable stated.
"Diva," the baggage handler answered, smiling.
"No, bitch," the constable replied, his face not once cracking a smile, "My only question is what the hell she wants with the Triple L Diner? That place has been deserted for years. I am THIS close to closing that deal and owning that land," he said enunciating every word, "I'll be damned if some woman from the United States is going to ruin my plans."
"So, what are you going to do about it. I mean if she owns the property and doesn't want to sell-"
"People can be persuaded, son. I'll own that land. One way or another."
"Do you think they'll go straight to the diner?"
"She'll stick to the city. We can check on the place in the morning."
"What about Matty? Place has been empty for years. He won't take to strangers."
"I told him to stay away from the diner. If he knows what's good for him, he listened," the constable answered in a stern voice, "Plus, the little brat has a lot to answer for. He broke into the store again, stole the lock box. I want it back, so either way, we deal with it all in the morning."
He stood at the edge of the clearing, hidden in the shadows, watching. He hadn't eaten in nearly a day and he could smell the lobster from several feet away, his mouth watering, his stomach nearly betraying his position with its growling.
He should be inside, curled up in one of those booths. He ran a hand through his shaggy, unkempt hair, frustrated at their appearance, confused as to what he should do.
This place hadn't belonged to anyone in a long time. It's seats empty. The stove cold to the touch. It was his now.
So, who the hell were they? Better yet, what did they want with his diner.
"Can you believe how little everything has changed. It's like stepping back in time," Laura told Luke, as they stood in front of the diner.
The building was sturdy for the most part, it's white-washed frame in serious need of several coats of paint. It had some minor changes over the years, new panels on the right side, a new screen door, but overall it had withstood the elements over the years. The front porch of the diner still boasted that ambiance of Southern comfort that Laura had insisted on, with a few chairs flanking each side, a checker board table in between and a porch swing for hanging with your sweetheart.
"It needs work. A lot of it. I can't believe it's still here," Luke told her, walking toward the screen door and opening it to the door behind it.
He inserted the key that the caretaker, Murphy, had given him, ready to turn it, when he realized it was already unlocked. The caretaker must have stopped by. He shrugged, dreading what the place would look like inside. Murphy handled the exterior and grounds only. He cringed, imagining what nearly thirty years of neglect could do to a place. Pushing the door inward, he stood, shell-shocked. If they thought the exterior was like stepping back in time, the interior was mind-boggling.
"I thought you said that Murphy only looked after the grounds? Shouldn't the fire have destroyed a lot of this?" Laura asked, amazed at how clean the interior was, the condition of the booths and tables immaculate, the steel table-top grill shiny. Didn't he say that most of this had been destroyed in the fire. What remained should be covered in dust, sheets covering the chairs and tables. Not so clean that it appeared as if a customer could arrive at any moment.
"He did. There wasn't any reason to keep this place up, not after we found Lucky and returned to Port Charles. I wanted to forget this place. Murphy said he understood."
"Do you think that he's renting it to someone?" Laura asked, noticing the plates, coffee mugs and utensils that lined one wall.
"He had better not be. Last time I checked we still own this place. Can't imagine he is though, this place is freezing. And did you notice there isn't any sign of food. Not one bag of bread. Not even coffee."
"So, then what? Why doesn't it look vacant?" Laura asked, worried, "What if someone finds us here?"
"No one but Murphy knows that we're even here, Laura. The information that I have on him, he's not talking to any cops soon. I don't know why this place looks like it does, but, I sure as hell intend to find out. If Murphy was planning on renting this place, it's not going to happen. This is our place. No one else's. I'll look into it," Luke told her.
"In the mean time?" Laura questioned Luke, a worried expression on her face, "Do you think our old house up the street is still there?"
"Tore the building down years ago. Put up a grocery store. Then, the economy tanked. Murphy said most people moved. Not much left around here. Even Lucky's old elementary school is gone. Nothing but a parking lot now."
"He did say that the cabins are still here. We'll hide out in one nearby. Murphy said that the cabin we used before is occupied. It's a miracle its still there. Some young couple is staying there now."
"Do you think they'll enjoy it, as much as we did?" Laura asked, remembering fondly.
"Not a chance. That place is special. But, only to Spencer's," Luke told her, grinning, "Come on. We'll come back in the morning. We have a lot to catch up on, Mrs. Spencer."
"It's Webber, Luke. It has been for awhile now," Laura informed him, with a note of stubbornness.
"So, why'd you show up at the wedding. Tracy probably thinks you kidnapped me."
"Hardly. Right now, I'd bet she has every cop in the state of New York banging on doors looking for you."
"Not me. Just the diamond I took from her," Luke replied, forlornly, "Tracy never really trusted me when it came to money, most especially jewels."
"My diamond, Luke. What the hell were you thinking?"
"Well, that's the thing, sweetheart. It's not REALLY your diamond," Luke answered, nervously.
"Of course it is. I'd recognize my grandmother's ring anywhere. It's a one-of-a-kind."
"That ring, well yes. It's in safekeeping. But, this one," Luke said, pointing toward the ring that Laura had placed on a chain about her neck, "It's a fake. Nothing but yellow glass. Alice helped me procure it."
"WHAT!" Laura shouted, as Luke covered his ears,"Where is my ring, Luke?"
"Not really sure. That's kind of why we're here. Alice met this guy while she was wrestling and well he knew of this upcoming jewel heist. All we had to do was get a little extra cash to get in on the action. It seemed legit. Tracy wasn't going to invest in our little adventure. So, I thought of the diamond."
"Lulu's diamond, Luke. You were supposed to hold it for her," Laura yelled in frustration, "It's all that I have left of my grandmother. It was going to be her wedding gift."
"Well, she wasn't going to marry that cop anytime soon. Besides, isn't he supposed to buy her the ring. It was a full-proof plan. Give Tracy the diamond. I knew that she would inspect it, then Alice would switch them. How the hell was I supposed to know the guy would play us. It was a good con. It would've worked."
"Except the con got conned. Where is my grandmother's ring, Luke?"
"The bastard fenced it. I traced it here. Now, I just have to figure out how to get it back," Luke told her, scratching his head, "Can you believe he got a measly twenty grand for it."
"You FENCED your own daughter's legacy for twenty-thousand dollars! Her great-grandmother's ring. It's worth three times that. What the hell is wrong with you?" Laura shouted, smacking Luke aside the head.
"Ouch. I told you, it was a sure thing. Besides, I didn't fence it. That wrestler of Alice's did. I'll get it back."
"You'd better, Luke Spencer. Or, you'll have me to deal with."
"Honey, it's not you I'm worried about. When Tracy finds out that ring is glass, she's going to spit nails. Really large ones. That's the real problem."
"You're fiancee, Luke, not mine. Besides, you left her at the altar in Port Charles. So, the way I see it, we're together in this, HONEY. So, until you get my grandmother's ring back, Tracy doesn't even come into the conversation. Do you get me, Spencer? Now, start moving. First light, you and I, are going to look for that ring."
Lulu neared the turn-off for the diner, when she noticed the dust trail from the car ahead of them, "Isn't it a little odd that someone was at your family's place?" Dante asked her, his eyes on the fading tail lights of the car, as Lulu turned right onto the diner's street.
"Probably just the caretaker. Lucky took care of the cabin, maybe he called about the diner too," Lulu answered, suddenly really nervous to view for the first time the place that she had only dreamed about.
"Well, this is it," Lulu told him, stopping in front of a white building with an old sign above with faded lettering. The Triple L.
"Somehow I thought that it would feel climatic, like some loud crescendo in my head. Not one bit of it is familiar to me. You'd think that it would be, after all the stories Lucky told me about it."
"Why don't we go inside and take a look around?" Dante suggested, getting out of the car and racing to the driver's side to open the door for her.
Lulu Spencer stepped out of the car, her hand in Dante's, as he led her toward the entrance.
She looked up, the faded black letters foreign to her eyes. The Triple L. Her brother had said it was for good luck. For Spencer luck. But, not Lulu Spencer, she thought, her eyes misting, as she gazed at the dilapidated sign.
"You ok?" Dante asked her, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? This place has no memories for me," she told him, looking at the porch swing. A brief flash of an image crossed her mind, a vision of a woman holding a child. A feeling of being held gently, comforted on one of those swings. Lulu Spencer shook her head to dispel it.
Lulu opened the screen door, pushing the door inward and stepping hesitently inside. She expected a musty odor to greet her, dustmites to cover every surface, but it wasn't the case. Timidly, she walked further into the diner, her eyes taking in the red booths. She moved toward the far corner, the booth where Lucky said he did his homework, while their mother served her famous apple pie and fresh-brewed coffee.
Lulu sat down, her vision becoming hazy, as the tears began to fill her eyes.
This place had so many memories. Spencer memories. But, not one of them belonged to her. Borrowed images. Visions created from the memories of others. Of the true occupants.
Just once she wished she could belong. That she could connect to something. She had hoped that seeing this place would spark some memory, would project a young girl who had no recollection of this place, into a different time. A place filled with both her parents, her brother and herself. What would it have been like to grow up in this place? Even if it was for such a short period of time.
"Baby, do you get the feeling this place isn't exactly deserted?" Dante questioned her, his instincts on alert, as he stared at his surroundings.
"It's clean," Lulu said, shrugging her shoulders.
"Yeah, that's my point. When was the last time you said someone was up here?" Dante asked, turning his head, as he heard a noise to his left, to the back of the kitchen. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up, his breathing tuned in to every creak on the floor.
Someone was here. He'd bet every bone in his body on it.
"A few days ago, I guess. Why? Maybe my dad's caretaker cleaned up the place. I think that Lucky said he didn't live too far away. It's possible that he straightened up the inside," Lulu replied, trying to come up with an answer that would erase the look of worry from Dante's face.
"It just doesn't make sense to me," Dante told her, walking slowly toward the kitchen, his ears fully alert to every sound. Footsteps. He definitely heard them agains. Soft, but apparent.
Shush, Dante mouthed to Lulu, holding his finger to his lips. Lulu heard the sounds this time as well, moving alongside Dante, closer to the entrance to the pantry.
"Is someone-" Lulu started to say, as a body brushed past her, nearly knocking her down.
The next thing she knew Dante had him up against the wall, the body flailing beneath Dante's grip, kicking and screaming.
"Let go of me," the boy yelled. He couldn't be more than four and a half feet tall. Skinny and covered in dirt.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Dante demanded in his authoratative tone.
"Ain't none of your business," the boy fired back. His eyes spitting with venom.
"How old are you?" Lulu asked him, noticing the unkempt hair, the grimy face and tattered clothes.
"Old enough," the boy told her, "This is my place. What are you doing here?"
"The lady asked you a question, son," Dante reminded him, holding him against the wall, but easing up on the pressure.
"This here is my place. Has been for several months now. I don't want no trouble, so if you just move along, we can forget you were ever here."
"What's your name, son?" Dante asked him. This time, softer.
"Matty," he answered, as his stomach growled loudly.
"You stay here, all by yourself?" Lulu asked him, in disbelief.
"Maybe. What's it to you?" Matty told her, as Dante sent him a look of displeasure.
"Show some respect, son. Are you a runaway? Do you're parents even know where you are?"
"Ain't got no parents. If I did, do you think I'd go ratting to you. I can smell a cop a mile away. You reek of it."
"Dante, we should take him back to the cabin with us. This place doesn't even have heat. He could freeze in this weather. He can't' be more than ten."
"I'll be eleven next week. Old enough to take care of myself and I ain't going nowhere. I certainly don't need no hand-me-downs. This place has everything I need."
"Really. No food. No heat. When was the last time you had something to eat? A bed to sleep in?" Lulu asked the boy, concern etched across her face.
"Lulu, I know where you're going with this. We can't-"
"He's just a kid, Dante," Lulu told him, turning to him with a doe-eyed look.
"It's not safe. I don't care how old he is. We should take him to town. Let the authorities deal with him."
"I ain't going to no fucking town. I sure as hell ain't going to see no goddamn constable. I told you, I ain't needing your help."
"No. From where I stand, you need a hell of a lot more than a bed and food. You should be in school. If my ma heard the words coming out of your mouth, she'd have washed my mouth with soap ten times over and tanned my backside. You speak with respect, son. I don't care how old you are."
"Look, you shouldn't stay here. At least not tonight. We have a cabin. It has a spare room. You could have your own bed, something to eat. What do you say?"
"What kind of food?"
"Pasta. My boyfriend makes the best in New York," Lulu told Matty, trying to convince him to come back with them.
"I don't know. I'm really picky about the sauce and I don't like onions. Is there garlic bread?"
"Listen, kid. We're not running some hotel and we sure as hell aren't catering to you," Dante informed the boy, irritated by his demands, "You get what we give you. Now are you coming, or not," Dante demanded, as a beaming Lulu smiled back at him.
Matty glared at Dante, one male to another, sizing him up, "Fine. But, I ain't staying more than one night. If I hear one sign of the constable, I'm out of there. Understand?"
"Deal," Dante told the boy, shaking his hand, "Car's over there," Dante told Matty, cringing, as the boy's smell lingered.
"We shouldn't be doing this, Lulu. He should be in a shelter. Or, better yet, home with his parents," Dante told her, closing the door and taking her hand.
"He doesn't have any parents. He told you so, himself," Lulu told Dante, looking toward the boy that stood next to the car.
"Yeah, well I'm not exactly taking his word for it. He's a runaway, Lulu. I'll have my eyes on him," Dante informed her, opening the passenger door for her and waiting for her to be seated.
"What are you looking at?" Dante asked Matty, closing the door and walking around to let Matty in on the opposite side, opening the back door.
"I ain't never seen nobody open a car door for any lady before," Matty told Dante, as he reluctantly pulled the seatbelt across to buckle up, "How come you do it?"
"Because my ma taught me to be a gentleman," Dante answered, grinning at Lulu, "And because I think she's worth it."
"The only thing my mom ever taught me was how to steal. Cigarettes. Wallets. Food. You name it, I got it."
"That's horrible," Lulu replied, as Dante drove the car toward their cabin, "Do you know where she is now?"
"Nah. It's been years. I've pretty much been on my own since I was eight."
"Two years. You've been all alone for over two years?" Lulu questioned Matty, outraged and infuriated with his mother.
"Ain't as bad as you think. I can take care of myself. I keep a roof over my head and I don't have to answer to nobody."
"It has to be lonely," Lulu said, as Dante pulled into the space in front of their cabin, "No one to talk to, no one to spend time with."
"I guess so. Never much thought about it before. It's always been me," Matty told Lulu, as Dante assisted her from the car. Matty jumped from the car and looked at the cabin in front of them.
"I've seen a few of these through the windows. Thought about breaking in, but never been inside one. Is it nice?"
"My family thinks so," Lulu told him, as Dante kept her close to his side, ushering Matty inside first, all the while keeping his focus trained on the boy.
"Didn't anyone tell you breaking and entering is illegal? You could go to jail," Dante told Matty, as Lulu shrugged off his hand and went in search of towels and something for the boy to wear.
"Jail? I've seen the inside of a cell, man. My mom practically lived in one. Visited her a few times. But, then they started getting suspicious. I told them my Dad was just outside, that he didn't care for her much. They never did see him. They tried to grab me once. So, I stopped coming. Couldn't end up in that place. Not even with my Mom. Been on my own ever since," Matty said proudly.
"They just let you leave. Just like that," Dante said, astounded, "They didn't try to find you."
"Don't think they knew where to look? Besides, I didn't have anyone looking for me. I never knew my Dad. Don't think my Mom even knew who he was. It was always me and her, you know. Then, it was just me."
"Shower is ready," Lulu called, from the hallway, as Matty tensed and his face contorted with disgust.
"Shower, I didn't sign on for no shower. I ain't going," he told Dante, holding his ground.
"You stink. No shower. No food. You're choice," Dante told Matty, his hands on his hips, standing his ground.
"I'll tell you what stinks. This. I ain't staying more than a night. I have to take a shower. There ain't no pasta that good."
Thirty minutes later, after three heaping helpings of pasta and garlic bread, a very clean boy with dark blond hair struggled to keep his eyes open, listening to Dante tell a story about his mother's exploits.
"And your Ma never got caught? What did Sister Evangeline do?" Matty asked Dante, while Lulu rolled her eyes next to him.
"She didn't do anything to his Ma," Lulu told Matty, "Dante was the little instigator. He glued Sister Evangeline's hand to the desk, while she was sleeping," Lulu said, grinning, "A nun. Can you believe it?"
"Every time I tell that story, I think about you gluing your hand in your hair," Dante grinned, as Lulu glared back at him.
"You loved seeing me miserable," Lulu told him, smiling.
"I just loved seeing you, being near you. I just loved you," Dante grinned, kissing her on the hand.
"Wow. I ain't never seen anything like that? Glueing someone's hand to a desk. Do you think that you could teach me?" Matty asked.
"No!" both Dante and Lulu said in unison.
"Fine. I didn't want to step in no school anyway. Especially, one run by a crazy bunch of nuns," Matty answered, yawning.
"Any school," Lulu yawned, his tiredness contagious.
"Here, I'll show you where you'll bunk tonight. This way," Dante told Matty, leading him toward the spare room, down the hallway to the right.
"If you need anything, Matty. Just ask," Lulu told him, as Dante turned to her, "I'll be right back."
Lulu cleared the table and placed the dishes to the side, filling the water in the sink and adding dish soap. She had her back to the living room, as she washed the dishes, smiling, as she felt Dante's arms wrap around her waist.
"You rinse, I'll wash," Dante told her with a grin, as he looked at the last plate she held in her hand, her face turning toward him with a smile.
"Slacker. Of course you would say rinse. I've already washed all the dishes," Lulu laughed, as Dante kissed her on the lips.
"Ok, you win. I'll dry. You sit," he told her, directing her to a stool nearby and reaching for a towel.
"Why do you think she did it?" Lulu whispered, her voice filled with emotion.
"Who?" Dante asked, turning to Lulu, as he dried a plate.
"Left him. Who does that? He was only eight, Dante." Lulu said, the tears slowly falling down her face.
"How old were you when your Mom became sick?" Dante asked Lulu, setting the plate in the cupboard and drying his hands. He came toward Lulu and wrapped her in his arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"I don't know. Six I think. But, I wasn't alone. I had Grandma Leslie and Lucky. He didn't have anyone. How could someone do that?"
"I don't know, Lulu. We'll get him help," Dante reassured her.
"Promise," Lulu asked him, looking into his chocolate-colored eyes.
"Promise. Now, the night is young. Where are those board games?" Dante grinned, leading her toward the sofa and the welcoming heat of the fireplace. He grabbed the throw from the sofa, tossing it on the floor along with a few cushions. He sat down, smiling, as he watched Lulu return with the Operation board game.
"I hate to break it to you, Lulu. But, baby, you are going to lose," Dante promised her, holding up his hands, "Steady hands. The best in the business."
"What business?" Lulu asked, raising her eyebrow.
"Stick around long enough and you'll find out, "Dante said, his eyes dark with passion.
"Hm, I don't believe you. I've seen those hands in action, Dante. Shaky," Lulu laughed, trying to keep her voice down, so as not to wake up Matty.
Twenty minutes later, and several buzzing noises and shushes from Lulu, Dante tossed the operation tool to the floor, "This is rigged."
"Remind me that if you and I are the last people alive and I'm in dire need of surgery, not to let you operate on me," Lulu giggled, as Dante glared back at her.
"Not funny. I want a rematch."
"It's late. All of your buzzing probably woke Matty up," Lulu whispered, as Dante pressed her back against the cushion resting on the floor.
"Well, then, you'll just have to be really quiet," Dante said softly, covering her body with his.
Matty shifted restlessly in the bed, its softness alien to him. He couldn't remember a time when he was this warm or felt this full. It scared him. They scared him. He could get comfortable here. He reached for his tattered clothes that he had discarded next to the bed and pulled them on, careful to fold the over-sized sweats and tee shirt that she had lent him and place them on the bed. He pushed his feet into his old pair of sneakers, the duck tape unraveling and revealing the holes underneath.
He could hear a strange buzzing noise from the living room and laughter, their joy causing him sadness. He wanted to stay, he thought, as he pulled on the other shoe. He wished that he could stay. But, he knew he couldn't. He didn't belong. Not to them. Not to this place. His home was out there. It had been for a long time now. You couldn't change that. No matter how much you wanted to. Sometimes, it is what it is. And for Matty, it was the outdoors. Now that the diner was no longer vacant, he'd have to find another shelter. It might take awhile, but he'd find it. He always did.
Reaching for the pillowcase he stashed earlier, filled with a few apples and a few pieces of that garlic bread, he went to the windowsill and carefully unlatched the window. Quietly he pushed it upward, the cold wind hitting his chest. He looked back one last time, a look of sadness upon his face, before he took a deep breath and slipped away into the night, letting the wind carry him.
