Chapter XXXV: Time Well Spent

Sheila paused for a moment before ringing the doorbell at Macy's apartment. She needed to be very careful now - her plan was so close to succeeding, if only she played her cards right. It was the beginning of December and the Boss would be ready to strike against the Forresters at Christmas. Sheila didn't know exactly what he had in mind, but she had offered to help any way she could, when the time came. And the Boss had accepted… he finally trusted her completely.

As did Macy. Because of that, it would have been very easy for Sheila to just grab her grandson and make a run for it now, and it was a temptation she had struggled against every time she had held Noah in her arms, but the rational part of her brain knew that if she did that at this critical point, the rest of her plan would fail. Her one chance of getting revenge against the Forresters and the mob would be lost forever. No, she needed to control herself and play her part, now more than ever.

She rang the doorbell, and Macy answered it after a few minutes, the baby on her arm.

"Oh, hi, Molly!" she said with surprise. "It's been a while."

"I've been out of town", Sheila lied.

The truth was that she had made several attempts to go and visit Noah the past few days, but every time, she had seen Thorne's car parked outside and had to leave for fear of running into him. Now, finally, she had come at a time when he wasn't there, but she was very aware of the constant threat that he might show up at any moment.

"So what have you been up to?" Sheila asked innocently, trying not to focus too much on Noah although all she wanted to do was look at him and hold him.

Macy smiled.

"I don't know if I should tell you, I wouldn't want to jinx it", she said.

"Good things, then?"

"Yes", Macy confirmed, "decidedly good things have been happening. And after these past few months, it's about time, too! I mean, that's not to say that the situation isn't still quite horrifying in some ways, with these professional criminals out there and everything, but finally, at least some things have taken a turn for the better. I have to believe our luck has finally begun to change."

"You are making me curious now", Sheila said. "Are you sure you don't want to tell?"

"Well, all right", Macy said, obviously eager to spill the beans, "it's two things, really. The first is that everything is in order for Noah's adoption. It will be finalized next week. From then on, I will officially be his mother. It feels so strange to say that - his mother… I still can't believe it's happening!"

"That is wonderful", Sheila said with forced calm, "and the second thing?"

"Well, you might as well know that I have been seeing Thorne a lot lately and we've been… well, we've done a great deal of talking about… about us, about our relationship I guess you could call it, and even though we're taking it slowly, one day at a time, I really think it could be happening for us… at least I hope so. We hope so."

"So you're officially a couple?" Sheila asked.

"I wouldn't say anything is official, at least not yet", Macy said. "But he did invite me to come to the Forrester Thanksgiving dinner as his date. That's a step in the right direction."

"Ah, but being invited to family gatherings is a big step", Sheila said enthusiastically, sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation in the direction she had aimed for all along. "What about Christmas? Has he invited you to celebrate Christmas with him, too?"

"We haven't really talked about Christmas plans yet", Macy admitted. "I don't think it's even been decided whether there will be a party or not. So much has been going on, what with the two family companies being merged and everything…"

"Well, one would think that would be a good reason to throw a great big Christmas party with the entire family", Sheila suggested. "Sounds like the Forresters need to come together after everything you have been through this fall. I mean, not that it's any of my business, of course, but I can imagine the kind of strain it would put on a family…"

"You are right", Macy said thoughtfully. "I think a celebration like that could be just what everybody needs right now. There are so many relationships that need to be mended in that family. I saw that at Thanksgiving, there was so much tension around the dinner table that you could… well, not that I was completely innocent either to be honest… anyway, it's true that in times like these, people really need to put their differences aside."

"Absolutely", Sheila said.

"You know what?" Macy concluded. "It's a very good idea. I think I'll suggest it to Thorne and maybe he can talk to Eric… I hope he doesn't think it's too presumptuous of me given I'm not really a Forrester, but it wouldn't have to be any trouble for him at all even if we have the party at his house. I mean, I'd be more than willing to help out with the cooking and planning and decorations and everything. Thorne and his family have been so kind to me these past few months, I just want to give something back to them. And I'm sure many others in the family feel the same way towards Eric, he's really been the one keeping them all together lately. Yeah, I think it could work out well, Molly. I can't really see the harm in it."

Sheila smiled triumphantly. No, Macy obviously couldn't see the harm in it. And once she did, it would be too late.

Eric Forrester leaned back in the chair behind his old desk at Forrester Creations. He was back. Forrester Creations was back, just the way it was before. It was hard to imagine, after this strange year. E F Couture was history and this was once again his company - the company he had founded so many years ago and that bore his name. It had been quite an adventure, he had to admit that, but right now he had had enough excitement to last him a while, and he was glad to be able to focus on going back to his old job as CEO, and leading his family in their efforts to stabilize the business. Now that they were all working together, he felt sure that they could do it. The press had already responded favorably to the news that Eric was back in the driver's seat with Ridge next to him as president and Thomas as vice president. They were clearly seen as a winning team. If only this nightmare with the mafia boss could be over…

There was a knock on the door and Pam entered.

"Um… excuse me, Eric…" she said in her normal apologetic tone, "but I can't work like this…"

Eric took off his glasses an looked at her.

"What's wrong, Pam?" he asked.

"Well, it's Donna…" Pam explained, "she doesn't tidy her side of the desk. It looks like World War III. And she uses my stapler. I can't be expected to put up with that."

"I heard that, Pam!" Donna's voice shouted from the corridor.

"She eavesdrops on my private conversations, too", Pam added. "See?"

Eric laughed.

"You ladies will have to learn to get along at some point", he said. "We're all working together now."

"And don't I know it!" Donna sighed from outside the door.

"I heard that!" Pam shouted.

"I know you did, Pammie", Donna shouted back.

Thomas looked at Donna at the receptionist's desk as he passed her on his way to his new office, and raised his eyebrows. At least some things never change, he thought. Unlike most everything else around here. A week ago, he was still the CEO of this company, and now he was vice president and sharing an office with Rick of all people. He had to admit there had been little else to do given the present circumstances, but his pride had been hurt. He knew, deep down, that he could have succeeded. If only he had had a little more time, he would have triumphed. But now…

He closed the office door behind him and sat down at his desk, starting to go over the notes for tomorrow's board meeting, but he couldn't concentrate. What was the point now that he had been pushed aside? Where was his drive, his creativity? It had all been for nothing and it had taken its toll on him. "All work and no play…", Steffy had said to him. Of course, she was right. Thomas had been all about work. But what else was there? He had dated on occasion, that was true. But it had never actually given him the thrill that he thought it would, the excitement that it seemed to give other people. Not even Caroline had touched him that deeply, even though he had enjoyed her company very much. Why was that?

Thomas thought back to his conversation with Steffy. He had told her that he didn't know what to look for in a girl, and she had replied, with that strange frown: "Are you sure you should be looking for it in a girl?" What had she meant by that? And why had that question made him so uncomfortable?

Maybe it was nothing at all. Or maybe it was the fact that Thomas had sometimes, secretly, asked himself that same question. If it wasn't a girl he should be looking for, what then? What if…?

That very moment, Caroline entered, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry, Thomas", she said. "I was looking for Rick. You haven't seen him, have you?"

"No", Thomas said. "Not in a while."

"Okay then", Caroline continued. "In that case, I'll let you get back to work…"

"Caroline, wait", Thomas said quickly, "could I talk to you for a second?"

Caroline turned around with a curious look.

"Sure", she said. "What is it?"

Thomas hesitated.

"I don't really know where to begin", he said. "I have never talked about this to anyone, and it's not very clear to me, but you have always been a good friend and, well… I just thought you might be the right person to ask…"

"Ask what?" Caroline said.

"I… well", Thomas stuttered with a slight blush, "I guess… well, I guess you might have some insight, given how you grew up, with your moms I mean…"

"My moms? What do they have to do with anything?"

"How do you know if you're gay?" Thomas blurted out rapidly. "I mean, is it obvious or does it just kind of… creep up on you?"

"Thomas", Caroline said, "where are you going with this? Are we talking about… about you?"

"I don't know", Thomas said. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

"So you think you might be gay?" Caroline asked casually.

Thomas started.

"I wouldn't say that", he said. "I'm just wondering… if there's a reason why I haven't really fallen in love with a girl yet."

"Well, have you fallen in love with a guy yet?"

"Not really…" Thomas said hesitatingly. "That is… I don't know. Sometimes I've had these feelings but I always thought I was just imagining things. It never entered my mind that…"

"My moms said sometimes it takes a while before you catch a clue. I remember Mom telling me she dated several guys and never understood why it didn't last. That is, until she met my other Mom, obviously. And now they are crazy in love."

"Yeah", Thomas said with a wry smile, "I am not really there just yet. Right now I feel confused more than anything."

"So we should un-confuse you", Caroline said. "Hey, I could call my moms and have them invite you over for dinner. You can ask them anything you want. They won't mind, I'm sure. Or I could just hook you up with this gorgeous sexy guy I know…"

Thomas laughed.

"Whoa, wait", he said. "I'm not even out of the closet here…"

"One look at Paul's abs, and you will be", Caroline winked.

"Paul?" Thomas said. "Not our Paul who models the men's line?"

"The one and only", Caroline confirmed.

Thomas actually knew who that guy was. He was very good-looking. So good-looking, in fact, that Thomas had made a mental note of the fact the first time he saw him - even though it had never occurred to him why he would take such notice of it in the first place. Thomas realized, with some embarrassment, that Caroline understood what he was thinking. She smiled at him.

"I always thought he was your type", she said enigmatically.

Meanwhile, Ridge stood outside the Forrester steam room reading and rereading the note he had just found in his office. It read:

Meet me in the steam room immediately. Clothing optional. Important business to discuss.

The note wasn't signed, but there was no mistaking that handwriting. Not that any such note could ever have been written by anybody else but…

"Logan!" Ridge said confidently as he finally opened the door and stepped inside. "I know you're in here."

"Guilty as charged", Brooke's voice purred from within. "Close the door, it's getting cold in here."

"Cold is not the word I would use to describe this…" Ridge said as he looked around and caught a glimpse of Brooke's figure through the steam. "Logan, you are incorrigible, do you know that?"

"Yes."

"So, what was that business you wanted to discuss with me?"

"Well, we've both been away from Forrester Creations and it's been a while since the last time we used this steam room", Brooke said. "We need to find out if it's still in working order."

Ridge chuckled as he sat down next to Brooke.

"Is it?" he asked, jokingly.

"It works for me", Brooke replied slyly. "I feel more relaxed than I have in a long, long time. I used to be all tied up in a knot, but now, my neck muscles are all soft and warm… you can check for yourself if you don't believe me!"

"Oh, I believe you."

"Check anyway."

Ridge reached out to touch Brooke's neck. Brooke moaned with pleasure.

"You know", Ridge said, "I think there is still some tension left, actually. We could do something about that."

"I agree", Brooke said seductively. "I think we should start by putting the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door."

"Good idea", Ridge said. "And then?"

Brooke turned to Ridge and kissed him passionately and unexpectedly. Ridge was surprised but obviously pleasantly so.

"And then", she said, "we take it from there."

Ridge laughed.

"Logan, Logan, Logan", he said, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

Two minutes later, the "Do Not Disturb" sign was up outside the steam room, but the sounds from within left very little room for doubt as to what was going on in there. It was far from the first time that particular room had been the scene of an intimate encounter. But, although nobody could have guessed it at the time, it would be one of the last.

Thorne smiled to himself, raising his eyebrows. From his position in the basement office, he had seen two people pass the sewing room heading towards the gym area. Brooke and Ridge. That was half an hour ago, and neither had returned. Apparently, not everyone was working as hard as he was today…

Of course, that was nothing new. He was always the one holding things together, and ever since the companies were merged, he had been busier than ever, calling buyers and distributors, explaining the situation to them and keeping them up to date on the latest developments. Making sure everything ran smoothly. Reassuring everyone. Thorne Forrester, the "head ironer". Once again residing in "Forrester Creations' ugliest office ever". Back where he began. Back in the basement.

"I'm back in the basement, baby", Thorne started humming to himself ironically as he rearranged some old files, "Yeah I'm back in the basement, baby, and it feels so good…"

He would have to add another verse to the Basement Blues. With the verses he and Alexandria had come up with previously, this would make number seventeen. And there might still be more to come… He wondered how his daughter really felt about him working down here, far from all the glory and glamour of the runway or the executive floor, just another paid employee in what should have been his family business. Was she disappointed in him for not pursuing a powerful position more aggressively? Was she ashamed? Did she feel robbed of her legacy? Did she envy her cousins and her uncles? She had never said anything like that, and whenever she spoke to him about "the basement", it was usually done as a joke. Maybe she was still too young to care. But he had to wonder. He wanted to be someone his little girl could be proud of. Someone who could be proud of himself…

Yes, he knew how valuable he was to the family and the company, and he knew that now his loyalty to them was more important than ever, but it couldn't stop that old doubt from resurfacing: What if this wasn't where he was supposed to be? What if running shipping at Forrester Creations wasn't his purpose in life? Well, of course it wasn't his purpose in life, he had always known that, but he had stayed anyway thinking it was his duty, and hoping that his loyalty would be rewarded some day. But did he feel passionate about it? No. His mind started wandering. What did he feel passionate about, really? What did he want to do with the rest of his life? He wanted to be Alexandria's father. He wanted to be Macy's… he wanted to be with Macy, any way he could. And he wanted…

"I'm back in the basement, baby…" Thorne began humming again, almost without realizing it.

He wanted to sing. Ever since he had been on stage that one night on the Queen Mary, right before the fire, he had had this urge to resume his singing career, to go on tour, to perform in front of a live audience, to feel that intoxicating thrill again and again… Part of him thought it might be just a pipe dream, but there was another part of him that kept saying "why not?" and "maybe some day".

Just then, the phone rang. Thorne picked it up, rapidly gathering his thoughts and moving back into work mode.

"Thorne Forrester, how can I help you?" he said automatically.

"Hi, Thorne, it's me. Are you busy?" Macy's voice replied.

"No!" Thorne said enthusiastically but not quite truthfully. "I need a break anyway. What's on your mind?"

"I know this probably comes a bit out of left field", Macy began, "but I've been thinking about Christmas…"

Steffy was sitting at the Bikini Bar, enjoying her afternoon off. Things had been busy today at Forrester, but she had got off to an early start and by now, she had already go a lot done. She had deserved a break.

It was kind of quiet at the Bikini at this time of day - the crowd that usually came later in the evening had not yet arrived. Steffy sat alone at the bar, sipping a glass of wine while she browsed through the latest issue of Eye on Fashion. It had taken her a while to get to the point where she could enjoy reading that particular magazine, knowing it was published by Spencer Publications and that Liam probably was responsible for a lot of its contents, but here she was. Heck, she could even appreciate a well-written article even though it was signed with his name. That's progress right there, she thought. She was finally getting over the loser.

"Here's to the beginning of the rest of my life", she said to herself as she took a sip of wine. "To a better and brighter future."

"That's a good sentiment", a voice commented.

Steffy looked up. The dark-haired man who had spoken had just sat down at the bar right next to her and was waiting to order a drink. He smiled at Steffy, a charming boyish smile even though he was probably in his thirties. The bartender approached him, asking what he'd like.

"Just a large glass of mineral water, please", he said, then, turning to Steffy, explained himself quite unnecessarily, "I'm working tonight".

Steffy smiled back at him.

"What do you do?" she asked. "Not that it's any of my business, of course…"

"Oh, that's okay", the man said. "I'm a doctor. I work at Cedars, as a cardiologist. My name is Mark, by the way."

"Steffy."

"Nice to meet you, Steffy", Mark said. "And may I venture a wild guess that you work in fashion? I couldn't help but notice what you were reading just now."

"You're right", Steffy said. "I do. My family owns a fashion house. You might have heard about it. Forrester Creations."

"Really?" Mark said with some interest. "Well, I'll be… You're Steffy Forrester? The namesake of the late Stephanie Forrester?"

"The one and only", Steffy confirmed. "You knew her?"

Mark nodded with a bit of hesitiation.

"In a way", he said. "My mother used to work as a designer at Forrester Creations many years ago. Not that I actually remember that, I was much too young."

"Oh", Steffy said, curiously. "What's your mother's name?"

"Margo Lynley", Mark said. "Have you ever met her?"

Steffy frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't associate it with a face. She must have heard her father or grandfather mention that name a long time ago… Suddenly, she had an association. Yes, she had heard Margo Lynley's name before in some context. And Mark's too!

"You're Clarke Garrison's son!" she said, a statement rather than a question. "Mark MacLaine, right?"

"Yours truly", Mark confirmed. "So you do know who I am?"

"Only by hearsay", Steffy said. "It's a small world, isn't it?"

"It sure is", Mark agreed. "A small world, but a complex one, and a beautiful one... and a cruel one."

"Cruel?"

"Yes", Mark affirmed. "Sometimes. When you work at the hospital you come into contact with those life and death situations on a daily basis. And a lot of the time, things end well. But other times, they don't. And when you lose a patient, it's always a tragedy."

"I guess that would be especially true if the person who dies is young and has their whole life ahead of them", Steffy reflected. Like so many times the past few weeks, thoughts of Phoebe entered her mind.

"Yes", Mark affirmed, "but a human life is always a human life, no matter how old they are. And the will to live can be just as strong when you're 90. Only today, I operated on an old lady who had had a heart attack. And the last thing she told me before she went into surgery was that I better make her well again because she needed to get home to her great-grandchildren for Christmas. And she was 92."

"And did she get well?" Steffy asked.

Mark shook his head but didn't answer. He seemed lost in thought for a minute. Then, after a while, he looked at Steffy.

"You know", he said, "every moment counts. That's really the thing you learn in the hospital. Every day of life is a gift. You just have to make the most of it."

"That's what I've always thought", Steffy agreed, raising her wine glass. "Here's to seizing the day!"

Mark smiled and raised his glass of mineral water.

"To seizing the day", he echoed. "I have to get back to work now. It was really nice meeting you, Steffy Forrester. Will I have a chance of running into you here again?"

"Why leave it to chance?" Steffy said with a grin. "Call me."

She quickly wrote down her phone number on a napkin and gave it to Mark. He waved back to her with it as he left the bar. Steffy smiled. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, she thought.