The Luckiest
Chapter 29: Dialogue
Riley Millhouse quickly started moving stuff around in his living room, as if trying to tidy up the place. Spinelli really didn't think that was what he was doing though. Shaking hands and a bead of sweat growing on his forehead made it clear that he needed some time to think and was stalling for time. Spinelli lingered in the doorway, letting Riley take all the time necessary in order for him gather his thoughts. Maxie tentatively inched behind him, resting her hand on the small of his back.
He had thought this would have been different. More emotional…shocking or something. Maybe his nerves were just dull.
"I'm sorry…the place is a mess…I wasn't expecting anyone," Riley explained gruffly, moving some paperwork from his couch to the coffee table nearest him.
"No, it's fine, really." Maxie chirped up, startling Spinelli a little. Riley glanced at her quickly as if just realizing she was there.
He motioned for them to sit, jerkily flopping down in a chair across from the small loveseat. Spinelli bolted in a quick surge of energy with Maxie following right behind him. She caught his hand as they settled down in their seat, squeezing his digits tightly as if to let him know it was okay, she was there.
Riley looked at them for a moment, or at least in their direction. Whether or not his thoughts were on them or miles away, Spinelli couldn't even begin to guess. Nonetheless, the focus on him made him nervous. He pushed the hair out of his eyes nervously. A sudden laugh from Riley made him and Maxie both jump.
"My god, you do that too," Riley muttered amusedly, his eyes sparkling a little. Spinelli glanced quickly at Maxie for an explanation, but she looked just as confused.
Riley quickly clarified himself. "That thing…when you pushed your hair around. Andrew did that all the time when he was nervous," Quickly mimicking his previous motion, Riley pushed down hair atop his head, copying Spinelli perfectly. He paused, swallowing hard. Tapping nervously on the arm of his chair, he continued. "It was how I could tell when he was edgy or panicked…Usually something he thought he would be grounded for."
Spinelli felt like he'd been hit in the gut. Riley wasn't going to hold back at all, was he? Going right for the jugular, the information he'd come to find out. A dry tongue made it hard to form words.
"He did that…he doesn't do it anymore?" Spinelli said stupidly.
Riley's eyes flashed. "You don't know?"
Spinelli shook his head.
"Andrew…" Riley began, looking genuinely shocked that he was having to explain this. He scooted forward in his chair. "He's been dead for almost eighteen years now…"
"I'm sorry." Spinelli didn't really know what he said that. He squeezed Maxie's hand, making sure she was still there. As if she knew that he needed her, Maxie spoke up.
"Mr. Millhouse, Spinelli has just found his father's name. We don't know anything about him other than that you are his brother…We came hoping you could explain things to him."
Riley paused, eyeing Maxie in an odd way. His gaze fell back onto Spinelli. "You mean…you don't know anything about him? You…don't remember him at all?"
Spinelli didn't respond. A guilt rose in his stomach. No, he didn't. Not a damn thing. Riley blinked, rubbing his temple a little.
"Well, I guess that makes sense…you were so little when he passed…But," Riley looked hopeful. "I…I guess I just didn't realize that Miriam wasn't going to tell you anything about him."
"Tell me. Please."
Riley genuinely smiled. "I can't believe you do that thing with your hair," he muttered. His eyes fell a little. "I'm sorry, Damian, I wasn't really expecting to really ever see you again. My life seems to be broken up into two different pieces of time—before Andrew died and after."
Spinelli squirmed a little. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just dropped in like this, I mean, I could've called or something, I don't mean to barge into your life like this."
Shaking his head fervently, Riley hushed him. "No, Damian, It's fine. I just haven't talked about my brother in a long time…this is kind of sudden, if you know what I mean, but I'll tell you whatever you need to know."
"Anything," Spinelli begged.
The room was still, dust floating around, glinting in the lamp light. The house looked old, lived in. Spinelli wondered if this was his father's family home, some sort of ancient place filled with ghosts. For a moment, Spinelli wondered if Riley Millhouse was one of those ghosts, only existing in that moment to tell him what he wanted to know about the past, but sure to disappear after they left, leaving the house cold and mute as if their encounter had never happened. At this point, it didn't seem impossible.
"I'm sorry…" Riley sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. He pushed his eyes with both hands. "It's just very hard to think of where to start. I mean, my brother was my hero."
A heavy silence fell, but after a moment, Riley energetically continued. "He played in band all through college, this really cool local band that people came out to see. Your dad was the guitarist, and sometimes he'd sing, but he mostly just played the guitar. I thought he was so damn cool. As you can probably guess, I tried to get my own band together, but we weren't ever nearly as impressive," he explained quickly. Spinelli hung on every word.
"His last year in school he met your mom, and he was crazy about her. They were sweet, you know, playful…But Andrew always wanted Sarah to change her partying ways. He didn't think it was healthy…I think he was too in love with her really leave her, though. The one time he did, he couldn't stop thinking about how she was doing without him, and then of course we found out she was pregnant with you."
Spinelli's forgot to breathe. It seemed an unnecessary distraction.
Riley continued. "They were fine for a while. Everyone thought things were cool. Your dad got this job at an accounting office." Smiling wide, it seemed as though Riley was thinking of some sort of inside joke. "He was so 'cool' you know, but then he get's this completely conventional job working on people's taxes and stuff. It was kind of funny. Andrew was really good with numbers though, really smart. It came easy to him."
Maxie broke in. "Damian is really smart too. He's the local computer genius."
His uncle's eyes grew bright. "Really?...Well, I expect nothing less. The guys in his band would joke around with him every now and then about Andrew being responsible…but you know, they loved him, and he still found some time every now and then to play with them. He'd bring you along to practice a lot of the time. Acoustic sets, you know, the mellow stuff, nothing that would shock you or anything. The band I think considered you a mascot or something."
Blood rushed into his cheeks. Spinelli couldn't think of a time where he had felt more…wanted? Was that it? He couldn't really grasp the concept of what this man was saying. Wasn't his father supposed to be this menacing character that didn't give a damn about his son?
Riley jumped up from his chair, going to a bookshelf behind the couch eagerly. There were rows and rows of records, CDs, tapes, and movies. His fingers grazed over a row of tapes before finding the one that he wanted, plucking it from the bunch. Riley handed the tape over to him as if it were a priceless artifact. It turned out that it was, at least in Riley's eyes.
"His band recorded some stuff one day…just for fun…that's a copy of it. You can have it. It's your dad singing on the first and third song." Spinelli weighed the tape in his hand, clammy fingers gripping the plastic case tightly.
"Thank you."
"Anyways…yeah…things got bad with your mom. She was really young…Andrew was more mature, I guess…He adapted to being a parent. She just wasn't ready. At least, that's what I would assume. I mean, It was so confusing back then…One day they were fine and the next he's at my door in the middle of the night holding you and asking me if he can move in."
Now he was actually looking at the front door, as if seeing it all over in his head. Spinelli felt a chill go down his arms. Maxie scooted closer to him instinctively. If she wasn't there, could he have done this? Surely not.
"What happened?"
"I guess…Your mom found a lawyer…convinced a judge nothing was wrong and that your dad had actually taken you almost at the point of kidnap because he wasn't letting her see you. It was messy…There was going to be a trial and for some reason things just didn't look as clear cut as they should've been. Andrew had to give you up for a while."
"I found the papers…custody papers…they weren't final or anything," Spinelli breathed, realizing he was officially connecting to the story, having evidence of its validity back in Maxie's car. This was when his road in the future met his father's road from the past, crossing and intersecting.
Riley shook his head. "They wouldn't be…there was no hearing."
"Why?" Maxie blurted, obviously on edge too.
Spinelli was sure that the brightness of Riley's eyes this time was not from mirth or amusement of some sort of inside joke. He blinked rapidly, taking a deep breath.
"Andrew died before they could take it to court." Riley hesitated, brushing his eye with the back of his hand quickly.
………..
Miriam gently sat Damian down on the edge of the hospital bed. Andrew could feel his small weight around his waist. Weakly, Andrew brought a hand to blindly feel for his son's body, brushing against the front of his little shoes. Andrew blinked, smiling at the contact of the familiar tennis shoes that he had not seen in over a month. He choked back the sensation to cough as he gently lifted his head, spotting the little boy's strange green eyes looking back at him.
"Hey…bird."
"Daddy?" Damian asked, chewing on his fingers. Andrew couldn't help but smile. A small part of him wondered if his son would remember him after being apart for so long. But no, his boy was bright, dressed in red tennis shoes and tan overalls, something his grandmother no doubt thought was cute.
"Yeah Damian?"
The little boy crawled forward on the bed, lying down next to him. "Da sick?"
Smart kid. Too smart. "Yeah buddy. Daddy's sick."
"Why?" The green eyes were questioning, big and round. Andrew wished he had the energy to rise up and hold him. Damian reached out and touched the rubber tubes that ran across his face, his oxygen tubes, tiny clammy hands resting on his cheeks. Andrew gently pulled the curious boy's hands away, settling him down on the bed.
"Because sometimes daddies get sick." Best to keep things simple.
Damian didn't question that logic. "Okay." Riley, sitting in a chair beside the hospital bed, eyed them both wearily. He was so worried, Andrew could see it written on his face. They made eye contact and Andrew smiled reassuringly. Arranging Damian to visit him was no doubt Riley's idea. Glancing back down at his side, Damian was curled up next to him, watching his dad with a strict gaze. Andrew pushed some hair out of his son's eyes.
"I missed you."
"You!" Damian replied, his conversational skills limited to odd sentences or repeated phrases.
"Me."
"Me," Damian poked Andrew in the chest. Miriam shuffled her feet a little. He glanced at her and saw that she was choking up a little. She was probably on his side, though supported Sarah if she needed help no doubt. Andrew looked back at Damian, realizing that he might not see him for a while and that he should take advantage of this stolen visit.
"I love you very much, Damian."
"Youyouyouyou," Damian repeated, rolling around a little on the bed.
Andrew coughed, setting his chest on fire. "You you you you you."
"Dami play getarr?" He asked, hopeful.
"You want to play my guitar? I don't have my guitar, Damian."
"Sing song."
Andrew didn't know how to explain that this wasn't exactly playtime. "I'm…I'm too sleepy Damian."
"Why?"
"Cuz I just am."
"Ohhhhhh…" Damian replied, Andrew's explanation making perfect sense to him.
Andrew closed his eyes for a moment. His chest felt so heavy. Wheezing air inched down to his lungs with each breath, a tight constriction in his throat itching. He lay there, unmoving. Damian tugged on his hands a little but seemed to do this only to have something to do. A soft clicking noise traveled closer and closer, like high heels on tile. That must have been what they were, because when Andrew opened his eyes blearily Sarah and her vibrant red hair were looming over him. Her face was pale, cheeks wet from tears.
"Andy…" She leaned over him gently, brushing his hair out of his face. God, he loved her so much.
"Sarah?"
"Yeah Andy, It's me baby. Oh my god you don't look good."
"I'm…really sick, Sarah."
"But you're going to be okay, right?"
Andrew was silent, the wheezing in his chest distracting him from a proper response. What did she want him to tell her? Sarah cleared her throat.
"You aren't going to die. People don't die from pneumonia anymore."
Damian rolled over. Andrew felt him standing up on the bed, clinging to his mother.
"What's die momma?"
"Shhh…" Sarah shushed him, focusing on Andrew. She grasped his hand. Why did they do this to each other? Andrew watched Damian trying to get his mother's attention, tugging on her sleeves.
"Momma!"
Andrew tried to reach out to him and soothe him, but his arms were too weak."Hey, bird, it's okay."
Sarah interrupted, shaking her head furiously."You're not dying. You can't die."
Riley, who had been silent up until this point, stood up quickly, his chair flying back a few inches.
"You know what Sarah, if it wasn't for you bringing on all this stress Andrew would be fine! He got all absorbed in your damn custody thing and he stopped taking care of himself and look what happened!"
"Riley stop it," Andrew coughed. "Don't fight in front of Damian."
Sarah stood up quickly from her place at his side, defensive. Damian sputtered a little at all the sudden action. He looked around confused. Andrew wished that he could reach him, to comfort him.
"It's true, Andrew. She took your kid, and--"
"Fine, everyone gang up on me!"
Miriam chimed in. "Daughter, we aren't ganging up on you. This is just a very tense situation for all involve--"
"Stop it, Momma. I didn't say you could bring Damian here. You obviously are in on this too!"
"Hey, Sarah, I called your mother because I thought Damian should see his father in case the worst happens!" Riley screamed this, his hair flying in his eyes. Sarah glowed red. The toddler sputtered even more, this time choking a little on tears that he did not bellow out.
"Shut up, Riley. You're being overdramatic!" Sarah retorted harshly. He couldn't take this ridiculous fighting anymore. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. Breath hitched in his chest once, twice, and then finally he could speak.
"Rile…" he croaked. Riley jumped out of his anger and darted over to his side, looming over him with fear in his eyes.
"Andrew, what?"
"You're upsetting my bird."
Damian crawled forward, snuggling onto his chest. He pressed a finger to his own lips, very serious.
"Shhh…Da sick."
Everyone froze. The small weight was chest was making it a little harder to breath, but Andrew didn't really care if he moved. Riley sighed heavily, burying his face in his hands.
Andrew couldn't figure out how to make this better, to make his brother stop worrying. Sarah pulled Damian away, this time looking very grey in the face.
"Say bye bye to Daddy, Damian."
"Come on, Sarah…" Riley grumbled. "Let him stay around a little while longer."
Andrew suddenly felt a wave of emotion run over him. Maybe it was his tiredness, or the medication, or simply being away from his son for so long. But he suddenly felt very mortal and weak, breakable. So very…very…tired. He blinked, his eyes rolling behind his lids for a moment as his breath hitched again.
"Hey bird," Andrew shook a little, holding back tears while trying to breathe properly at the same time. He blindly felt for little tennis shoe, squeezing his son's foot a little when he found it. A strange sort of embrace?
"I'm sorry that I didn't get to sing to you today, buddy. You know that I love you."
He opened his eyes, looking up into Sarah's eyes once again. Her green eyes were what always haunted him. They mesmerized him. After everything, he loved her so damn much. She leaned in a little, whispering.
"When…when you're better…we should talk."
"I would like that Sarah," he agreed, wheezing. A strand of her long red hair tickled his cheek as she leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "I miss you."
"I love you, Andy." She meant it, he could tell. If only she could change for that love. "I'll be back tomorrow night, okay?"
He nodded, watching her as she slowly backed out of the room. He couldn't follow her all the way out the door with his eyes, and he felt them becoming heavier anyways. She'd come back to visit him tomorrow.
………
Riley was quiet for several moments after explaining about Spinelli's father's last day. Maxie sniffled. A bitter, salty taste flitted across his tongue. One tear had fallen without him even realizing it was there. Spinelli couldn't move, feeling so heavy.
Quietly, Riley broke his silence, speaking barely above a whisper. "I don't know where your mom is…I'm sorry. Last I heard she was living in Florida…but that was probably ten years ago."
"That's okay…" Spinelli accepted his answer easily. Half of the story was good enough, right?
Riley seemed to be thinking about something. "He called you bird…all the time…Sarah hated it."
"Bird?" He questioned, his voice quivering.
"Andrew said you were always talking…rambling…humming…like a bird…chirping."
Maxie muttered to him, "Bird…like your little stuffed frog."
So there it was. The truth. He had never, ever been alone. Somehow, his father had always been around, hadn't he? A child's recollection was weak and fleeting, but a memory had been imprinted in a simple toy, a mystery to be explained so much later, but a comfort in its own way.
So there it was. The truth.
…….
They drove back to Spinelli's grandmother's house in silence. Maxie didn't really know what to say to him. Dull road noise buzzed louder than their thoughts, something Maxie was grateful for, because she didn't know if she could concentrate on driving if she put too much thought into what had just transpired. Spinelli was gripping the cassette tape that Riley had give him in his hand, tapping it gently on his knee as he gazed out the window.
Maxie cleared her thought, ready to ask a question, but then swallowed back her thoughts in the same moment. Spinelli wasn't ready to talk. Absentmindedly, Maxie reached for the radio. She found a random station, turning the volume down low. The music could barely be heard over the road noise.
For the first time all evening, the baby moved. Maxie sat a hand over the place she felt him quiver, thanking him for his cooperation during their evening's discovery. Suddenly,
Spinelli was putting the cassette tape into the car stereo, shaking hands making the tape click against the front buttons before making its way into the slot to play. Maxie held her breath as Spinelli turned up the volume.
A guitar, some drums, a bass, a piano. A voice. Gentle, sweet, strong. A soft, jerking sob. Maxie kept driving, leaving Spinelli to his grief.
…...
In the darkness of night, a gentle touch ran down her arm. She knew he couldn't have been asleep, after a day like today, and Maxie had been waiting for him to give up the act of feigning sleep. He would need her tonight. But, she couldn't force him to talk. Patience was key. At his signal, she sighed, not realizing how much tension was trapped in her lungs waiting for him to speak up.
"Maxie?" Spinelli murmured, drawing his body nearer to her. She felt her own name rush past the skin on the back of her neck with a breath when he called it softly. Maxie rolled over to meet him eye to eye, moon glow hitting only ever other curve to his face. Even in the dark she could feel his sad eyes on her. Fingertips gently brushed the messy hair out of his eyes, silently letting him know the she was listening now. He claimed her wrist, pressing a kiss onto her palm before lowering it gently back down by her side.
"What is it, Spinelli?" As if she didn't know.
Hesitating for a moment, Spinelli simply looked at her. Absentmindedly he rubbed her stomach, tracing a line back and forth over the hill slowly. Then, he finally broke the pause that held him back and pulled her close to him, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, the space between them no longer there. Maxie felt his heart beating steadily against her chest.
"Make me a promise, I beg you," he whispered by her ear.
"Anything," Maxie replied instantly.
"…We…We kind of did everything backwards."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean…I fell in love with you long after we…you know…made the baby. We weren't even friends at that time. Being your friend came naturally after we were kind of forced to try…"
"I think of you as my best friend…you know that…"
Spinelli shook his head a little. "I know. The…dating…whatever we're calling this," he emphasized the word by gently kissing the nape of her neck. "This is new. I love you so much--"
"I love you too!"
A small laugh from him tickled her ear. "I know…that is my point though…Right now, all is well. It's fresh, and uncomplicated."
"A baby isn't uncomplicated."
"No, a baby isn't uncomplicated. That's what I need you to promise me."
"What?"
"That...if one day we just…I don't know…aren't in love…if something changes…We'll never, ever let it touch Caleb. We have to do right by him."
Maxie considered the weight of his words. He was right. They were "dating" officially for less than two months. More developed and longer lasting relationships had crumpled overnight, what could stop that from happening to them? A baby didn't change them into a force upon the world that couldn't ever be tainted by jealousy, betrayal, lust, or boredom. He was asking her to be able to keep their son out of it should they ever break up. A pre-nuptial agreement in a dating world?
"Spinelli…He's your son. He's my son. We were going to raise him as friends above all else. That hasn't changed. It won't."
Spinelli pulled away from her for a moment, looking down into her face. "I can't imagine my life without you. Is that strange?"
Maxie bit her lip. "No. It's not strange. I…I know exactly how you feel."
He laughed this time. "We are exasperatingly bizarre, are we not?"
She kissed him for an answer. Bizarre, weird, abnormal, special. A few moments later, Spinelli curled back next to her, the tension gone.
"Maxie," he spoke up after a few moments of quiet.
"Yes, Spinelli?"
"…Do you think your mom knows you're pregnant?"
Maxie sighed. "I think Mac told her. I would assume he told her actually."
Spinelli hesitated. "Write your mom a letter."
"What?"
He wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Write her a letter. Tell her yourself. You don't have to speak to her in person…a letter can convey every thought you've had about her and you don't even have to see her when she reads it…"
"Why?"
"Closure."
Maxie contemplated his words, knowing what he really meant. He wanted her to find what he had found—peace. If he was brave enough to try, shouldn't she?
"We'll see, Spin."
"Goodnight, Maxie."
…………….
A/N: And huzzah that plot line is complete. I'm so glad too, btw. This has been the hardest plot point I've written so far. I think I'm ready to get back to business. Now we're on the crazy roller coast that leads up the Caleb's birth. Oh the drama.
I would just like to thank all of those that voted this story "Best Fan Fic" on the Opposite Attraction board. I think all Spinelli and Maxie fans should join that forum. It's great. Crazy bunch of folks, very enthusiastic about campaigning. By the way, this is a great time to join the campaign. We're working wonders. If you would like information, just leave a review or PM me.
Next Chapter: back in Port Charles.
