Chapter 21
"There's a rumor going around that this is a 'No-Girls-Allowed' Club," Paloma greeted Chad with a smile and Cristian with a quick stolen kiss to his cheek.
Too polite to wipe her kiss from her cheek, Cristian unwittingly delivered a different blow. "You're not a girl. You're just one of us guys. Right, Uncle Chad?"
Paloma's bright smile dimmed briefly, and Chad internally winced, but before he could make any apologies for the innocently spoken comment, Paloma's smile was back, bigger and brighter than ever.
"Since I'm one of the guys, does that mean I get to be a part of your super-secret surprise?"
"Uh huh," Cristian nodded, dark eyes happily alight.
"So," Paloma clasped her hands together, her own dark eyes dancing, Cristian's obvious excitement contagious. "What is it? What's the surprise?" Silence stretched for several long seconds, and meeting Chad's eyes over the top of Cristian's head, Paloma arched a brow in question to which Chad just smirked.
Shoulders shrugging, nose crinkled in thought, Cristian bit his lip with a small frown, finally making a concession that had both Paloma and Chad unable to suppress their delighted laughter. "I don't know. But it's a good surprise. Right, Uncle Chad? Aunt Theresa's going to like it?"
Chad grinned at them both. "I promise. Aunt Theresa's going to love it."
Theresa hadn't exactly welcomed his arrival, judging from her surprised shrieks of indignation and her frantic orders that Sheridan rush to cover his eyes. She hadn't exactly kicked him out either. One of the perks of being the big brother, Luis decided as he let his daughter pull him deeper into the open studio while his wife effectively blindfolded him. He couldn't control the grin that stole over his lips as he teased them all. "If I'd known it was a matter of national security…"
"Haha, funny guy," Sheridan's breath against his ear made him shiver as she slowly removed her hands from his eyes, trailing them across his broad shoulders in the barest of touches before stepping in front of him and voicing a gentle reminder, the humor of the situation reflecting back to him in her own twinkling blue eyes. "Luis." Her lips twitched. "Be nice."
"You're not supposed to be here, Daddy," Ali scolded him then, arms crossed across her chest and feet tapping impatiently against the floor. "It's bad luck."
Sidestepping Sheridan, Luis peered down at her miniature, unable to tamp down his smile at the likeness as he questioned her. "Why?"
Thinking it over for a second, Ali frowned then answered, "Because Aunt Theresa says so."
"Because Aunt Theresa says so," Luis tested the weight of the words on his own tongue, his grin only growing broader when his kid sister reappeared, looking bright-eyed and flustered and more than a little annoyed with him. As a peace offering, wanting to smooth her ruffled feathers, he smiled at Theresa and winked at his girls. "I guess that's as good a reason as any."
"It better be," Theresa grumbled half-heartedly as she let herself be wrapped in the familiar comfort of Luis's hug. Giving his shoulder a playful punch when he released her, she demanded some answers. "Luis, what are you doing here?"
Luis held up his hands in mock offense, capturing her small fist before she could strike again in her irritation. "What? I need a reason now?"
"Sorry I'm late," Beth apologized, hurriedly kissing Ethan's cheek before taking the seat he offered her. Unfolding her napkin over her lap, she glanced at her plate, brows knitting tightly at what she found there. "Ethan? What's this?"
The corners of Ethan's mouth twitched as he gently mocked her, "It's the cow that started the Chicago fire." When she looked unamused, he gave her a small appeasing smile. "I thought you'd like something different for a change. This steak comes highly recommended."
Beth mirrored Ethan's smile, and for the next few minutes, her attention shifted to the plate in front of her.
When the silence lengthened past the point considered companionable, Ethan cleared his throat and made another attempt at conversation. "Did you take care of all of your errands?"
Beth's only answer was a blank stare.
"Earlier. At the Book Café," Ethan elaborated. "I stopped by to pick you up for lunch, but Julie said you had to run some errands."
"Oh," Beth's lips curved into a somewhat nervous smile. "Errands. That's right."
Shaking off the vague impression that she was keeping something from him, Ethan lay his own fork down, lifting one corner of his napkin to his mouth before speaking again. "So…Julie. She's," he racked his brain for the right word, finally settling on the most innocuous one that sprang to mind when he thought of the chatty young girl full of nervous energy, "nice."
Beth tried to hide her laughter behind her own napkin.
Looking as befuddled as ever, Ethan frowned, the glass in his hands pausing mid-air just inches from his lips. "What? She IS nice. A little nervous maybe. Exceedingly talkative for sure. But still nice."
Men could be so clueless sometimes, Beth mused as a little chuckle broke free. "Julie's nice. I'm not saying she isn't nice, Ethan."
"Then what ARE you saying?" Ethan questioned, his glass still hovering close to his mouth. "And what is it that you find so funny?" he practically demanded, the color in his cheeks rising the more Beth's mirth grew.
Leaning in close, Beth placed a comforting hand on Ethan's thigh and a pressed a tiny kiss to his humorously sputtering mouth. "I love you, but you are so blind."
"There's nothing wrong with my eyesight," Ethan insisted, the color in his cheeks traveling all the way to his ears when Beth kissed him again, smiling broadly the entire time.
"Biiiiiirrrrr!" Kendall cried, pointing at the tiny winged creature as it flitted across the sidewalk in front of them.
Shifting Kendall's slight weight to his right arm, Noah wrapped his freed left arm around Katie's shoulders, tugging her close and pressing a kiss to her hairline as they searched out the table he'd already staked out when he'd arrived earlier, intending to treat his fiancée on her lunch break.
"That's right, Sweetie," Katie smiled encouragingly at Kendall and his wide-eyed excitement. "Bird."
"Bir!" Kendall exclaimed again, squirming in Noah's arms.
Seeking permission from Katie with a quick look into her eyes, Noah dropped his arm from her shoulders and crouched low, setting the toddler onto his feet on the plush green blades beside the sidewalk.
After a wobbly start, Kendall took off at a breakneck speed, giggling breathlessly as the bird skillfully eluded his childish attempts to capture it in his arms. "No, no!" Kendall wagged his finger accusingly as effort after effort proved fruitless. "Bir, stay," he ordered sternly. "Nowa," he looked to Noah for help, sandy blond locks falling forward into his eyes.
"We really need to get him a dog after we're married." Noah's silver eyes danced with amusement. Katie's expression of surprise made him linger, and for a few seconds longer, Kendall's requests for aid fell on deaf ears. Gently gripping Katie's elbow with one hand, Noah used the other hand to tuck a flyaway strand of blond hair from her ponytail back behind her ear, his palm tenderly cupping her cheek. "What?" he wondered aloud, concern seizing him when he saw the suspicious sparkle of tears barely held back in her eyes.
Her heart full, Katie tried to smile as her eyes welled further, forcing a single tear to trickle down her cheek, and she ducked her head, laughing in embarrassment when panic flashed across Noah's dear, handsome face. "Nothing. It's nothing," she insisted as he raised his other hand to her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to escape down her cheeks.
"I mention getting our son a dog once we're married, and you start crying," Noah searched her eyes for answers to his unasked questions. "No way is this nothing. Katie…talk to me. Dammit," he swore softly when a shaky sob erupted from Katie. Resting his forehead against hers, he dropped his voice to a pained whisper, going over the last few minutes in his mind and wondering desperately what he had said or done to set this chain of events into motion. "At least tell me this…good tears or bad tears?"
Gripping Noah's shoulders tightly, Katie mustered up her best smile, hoping Noah could see that it was genuine. "Good tears," she sniffled. "Definitely good tears." When Noah looked relieved but still confused, her tears turned to soft laughter, and she pressed her mouth against his in what she hoped was a reassuring kiss.
"Katie, I…" Noah frowned slightly when Katie's finger to his lips stopped any questions he might have voiced. The frown only deepened when she shook her head, her green eyes still bright with tears as she breathed a question he'd never expected to hear from her.
"This is really happening, isn't it?"
"Abby," Nick called over his shoulder as he forked stir fry onto the plates in front of him. "Lunch is ready!"
At his feet, Lucky meowed plaintively, obviously trying to pull the pitiful act on him again.
The feline was a master at the act, not having to work too hard before Nick snatched up a morsel of meat and fed it to the little beggar while keeping an eye out for Abby. It wouldn't do to have his ass handed to him on a platter not six hours after they'd effectively kissed and made up. Well, the kiss was a given, but the making up…at least they were on their way, which was more than he'd hoped for this morning when he'd woken up without her in his arms again. "Abby," he called again, a small part of him worrying that she'd already changed her mind about him, about them, and snuck out of her bedroom window, escaping down the fire escape. When she didn't answer again, he tossed Lucky a stern glare, warning him to even blink at the still steaming food, then he left the room in search of her.
Her bedroom yielded no sign of her, and the bathroom was just as empty.
He found her in the last place he expected to—his bedroom. Now the baby's room.
Her head bowed, tawny hair spilling over her shoulders, Abby gripped the rail of the bed in her hands. At Nick's touch on the small of her back, she relaxed her grip, flexing her fingers before lifting the small white teddy bear nestled amidst the blankets in her arms and hugging it close. She had tears in her eyes when she finally faced him, and with much effort she finally spoke. "I'm sorry. I heard you. I just…"
"Shh," Nick soothed, gently taking her by the elbow and steering her toward the only other piece of furniture in the room, a rocking chair he'd purchased because the image of her sitting in it rocking their child to sleep with lullabies on her lips had been so strong, so real the scent of talcum powder intermingled with baby lotion and a familiar vanilla fragrance had assaulted his senses. Taking a seat in the chair, he opened his arms to receive her, his heart threatening to split wide when she acquiesced and relaxed enough to let herself be held. For a while, her quiet sniffles and the creak of the chair were the only sounds in the converted room, and Nick's fingers tenderly stroked her silky hair, the gesture meant to comfort.
Her fingers tracing patterns on the soft cotton of Nick's tee-shirt, Abby was the first one to break the silence, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Sometimes it still doesn't seem real."
"The baby?" Nick murmured against her temple.
"Our baby. My baby," Abby choked out. "Nick, what if…"
"It won't," Nick cut off her painful question, unable to let her finish it. "Abby, I promise…no matter what happens with us, I won't let any harm come to you or our child. I promise. Do you hear me?"
"Another man made me the same promise once, and he fought like hell to keep it, but he couldn't. He couldn't, and I never held her. I never got to say goodbye. I never got to kiss her and look for myself or her father in her little face. I don't think I can do it again. I know I can't," she said, fresh tears welling in her hazel eyes as her fingers slid from his shoulders to burrow in his dark hair. She inhaled a shaky breath as she pressed her forehead against his forehead, the tears in her eyes slipping free.
All out of answers for her, Nick cradled the back of her head and directed it toward his shoulder, offering the only thing he could—the comfort of his touch.
Ivy never had warmed up to conducting her business in the library—too many ghosts—so she'd spent the better part of the afternoon in the Solarium, studying the file her private investigator had built up on one Abigail Stone and trying to piece together the turn of events that had led to her and Antonio Lopez-Fitzgerald crossing each other's paths.
Antonio had disappeared from Harmony around the same time as Martin. Deep down Ivy had always suspected Alistair's involvement in Martin's exile from his home, but would Alistair do the same to Antonio? Who had convinced Antonio to leave the mother and brothers and sisters that loved and needed him?
Questions whirled, unanswered, in Ivy's mind, and she lifted a hand to her brow, frowning at the headache she felt building behind her eyes. Forgoing any further scrutiny of the file for the moment, she tossed it onto the table in front of her and picked up the crystal decanter to pour herself a drink.
Today, when she had spent so much time contemplating and searching through the past, she sipped brandy in Julian's memory.
Ah, Julian.
He'd lived his whole life under his father's thumb until the day he died a hero's death and took the first steps in bringing a family back together.
Ivy wondered if she could have grown to love such a man over time. God knew she didn't love him when she married him; her heart was Sam's and no one else's.
She wouldn't lie. She had grown to care for him, almost without wanting to. Deep down, in their hearts where it counted, existed a common thread—a love for someone forbidden to them.
For a brief moment, she entertained thoughts of Julian's reaction to learning Chad was the son he'd never completely given up as lost. She couldn't help but think the two men would have found a way to forge a relationship as father and son.
Thoughts of fathers and sons led where they inevitably led, and she fingered the locket about her throat as her eyes grew sad.
What of Ethan and Sam? Was she any better than Alistair for keeping them from knowing each other as they should—as father and son?
Thoughts such as these left Ivy awash in feelings of regret, and she was tired of the feeling; she had made her choices and now had to live with them.
She finished off the brandy she'd been nursing and reached for the file with her other hand.
She had to live with them and move on and continue to protect the one she held most dear.
It was days like today where the reality of his little girl's death slammed into Sam with all the subtlety of a Mac truck.
When Grace had called his cell phone earlier, he'd been in the middle of his morning visit to the Harmony PD. Retired or not, he couldn't cut ties with the place completely, and though he'd never mention it to Grace, he relished the chance to get away from his thoughts and the memories tied up in their home that were a little too painful to relive with such startling clarity day after day.
Kay had lived and breathed in that house for most of her life. She'd played forbidden games of catch in the living room with Miguel over Grace's objections and come to him for help gluing back together the shattered evidence of her indiscretions. She'd pleaded with him to spare her the well-meaning lecture welcoming her to womanhood that Grace had anticipated for years by taking her to the drug store and promising not to get out of the car when she made—in her words—"the most mortifying" purchase of her life. That house was where she shared her first kiss with Miguel; on the doorstep with him turning the lights on and off when things got a little too involved for his liking. And she had placed his first grandson in his arms in the kitchen, declaring it didn't feel right taking him home without introducing him first to the place she'd grown up—the place she promised he'd spend many more days and nights to come.
Grace coped by immersing herself in the details surrounding Noah's upcoming wedding to Katie. Sam himself coped by making frequent visits to his old haunt, escaping, if only for a little while, the place where he saw his daughter's face around every corner. Miguel and the boys coped with the help of an understanding friend.
Until today.
Sam didn't blame Abby for the fallout of what must have been a difficult decision; he even understood her motivations. He wished he could say the same for his wife.
Rocking their youngest grandson in her arms, his cries for Abby now hoarse, Grace's blue eyes held nothing but anger.
At Kay's death, for Abby's abrupt departure, Sam didn't know anymore, and right now, hours into a vigil he somehow felt wasn't theirs to keep, he was too tired to care. He rubbed his hand over his face roughly when deeper into the house he heard the slamming of a door and sighed as MJ vented his frustrations in the only way he knew how. How were they were going to get past this?
If this was what the aftermath was like when the shock and numbness started to fade for real, Sam selfishly wanted to spare MJ and Joshua for a little while longer.
With a pensive sigh, Hank flipped his cell phone shut and slid it into his jeans pocket, Miguel's somberly delivered words remaining with him for several long seconds, seconds in which, one by one, three pairs of brown eyes lifted to his face and regarded his troubled expression with open curiosity.
"Dad?" Jake eventually prompted, frown lines deepening on his young face. "Dad," he waved a hand in front of Hank's face, finally garnering his attention, at least a small part of it.
"What?" Hank answered distractedly.
"Dad," Sara rolled her eyes in exasperation.
It was Emily, tugging impatiently at his belt loops that finally brought Hank back to the present. "Can MJ and Joshua come play, Daddy?"
Lifting Emily easily onto his hip, Hank brushed a wayward strand of her long brown hair behind her ear with affection and answered her question with a shake of his head.
"But why?" Emily pouted.
"Does MJ have the yucky throw ups like Caleb?" Sara asked, looking concerned until she remembered a cast-aside piece of advice she'd given MJ at their last game. "I told him he'd get the cooties if he sat beside Caleb in the dugout."
"No," Hank's reply was vague. "He's not…sick. He just doesn't feel like playing today."
"What about Joshua?" Emily wouldn't be deterred.
"Maybe HE'S got the cooties," Sara muttered under her breath, kicking at a loose stone at her feet.
"Him either," Hank responded, his earlier cheerful mood all but dissipated as he mulled over the brief phone call with Miguel. He was still having trouble believing what he'd been told.
"Maybe YOU got the cooties," Jake shot his little sister a quelling look.
Narrowing her eyes at all three of them and mumbling something indistinguishable, Sara crossed her arms against her chest and impudently struck out on her own, leaving Jake to stroll beside his father and Emily in silence again.
"Hey!" Jake admonished when Sara quickly darted across the street a few minutes later, when the traffic lights changed and the coast was clear. He didn't always make a big show of it, but he took his job as big brother just as seriously as the next guy. "You're supposed to wait for me or Dad," he reminded her, breathless from his own sprint across the street to catch up with her.
The proud smile Sara sported slipped away as she argued, "But I looked both ways! Just like Dad said."
"You can't cross the street by yourself," Jake stood firm as they watched their father cross the street with their sister in tow. "You're still too little."
"Am not," Sara stubbornly refuted.
"Are too," Jake rolled his eyes. "You're not even in kindergarten yet."
"I'm going this year. Tell him, Dad," Sara stood toe to toe with Jake, hands on her hips and brown eyes stormy, ready to do battle as Hank sidled up next to them, his own lectures on shooting across the street like a loose cannon dying on his lips.
It seemed the Little Buddy had already hit his highest points for him anyway, and Harmony wasn't exactly the L.A. freeway during rush hour. But before he could warn Sar about rushing into the finer points of education like homework, afternoon nap time, and the occasional brush with detention, they were at it again. Placing Emily on her feet and cautioning her not to wander off, Hank took a deep breath and put on his much-used, tattered referee hat. He'd recognized early on that you trapped more flies with honey so he decided to lay it on thick. Turning to his irate little daughter, he gave her a thumbs-up. "Good job, Sar. You looked both ways just like I taught you."
Jake's mouth dropped open in disbelief. He started to stammer out a protest, desperate to wipe the smug smile off of his sister's face when his dad continued.
"But your brother's right."
Now Jake wore the smug smile.
Hank struggled not to let his own smile show; playing the part of stern father was always a bit of a stretch for him, but he prided himself on his ability to fake it when he needed to. "I know you're starting kindergarten this year, and you'll officially be one of the 'big' kids…" Hank winked at Jake over the top of Sara's messy brown mop of hair when he rolled his eyes, hoping he could get his son to play along. "But," he stressed, earning a displeased scowl from Sara and a momentary glance of interest from Emily, "you're not one yet. That goes for you too, Emmy."
"Okay, Daddy," Emily singsonged before returning to her previous activities.
Activities, that as far as Jake could tell, seemed to be twirling until she was dizzy and singing nonsense songs. Somehow, Jake had a feeling there'd be plenty of scuffles in his future; he was going to have to start working out soon.
"But Dad," Sara protested.
"No 'but dad's' to me," Hank cut her off. "Looking both ways is fine, but it's not enough. Until I say you're old enough, you don't cross the street alone. Either one of you," he looked from Sara to Emily and back. "Cross only with an adult or Jake."
"But Jake's no grown-up," Sara complained.
"No," Hank acknowledged, taking Sara by the shoulder and waving a beckoning hand to Emily as they started moving along the sidewalk again. "But he's your big brother, and that's more than good enough."
Jake, lagging behind, couldn't wipe the goofy smile from his face.
"Who says we cancel the park plans and go visit Mom instead?"
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