Carly Jax sat across from her daughter in Rachel's office at the ELQ headquarters. The desk was completely covered with samples of Rachel's newest enterprise.
"I just got these in the mail this morning. Aren't they great?" Rachel asked gleefully, examining a pale pink peignoir. She was thrilled with the arrival of the lingerie because it meant that she was that much closer to her dream.
Carly grinned and picked up a midnight blue nightie. She pursed her lips and studied the garment. "It's very nice. Are you hiring the people that will sew these or are you using a separate company?" she turned it over and studied the backside of the nearly see-through garment.
"Oh all items will be made in my own factories. I already bought the building and am in the process of getting it ready for production," Rachel replied, watching her mother. "You know Mom, that seems to be your size. Why don't you take it and tell me how it works out. Although I don't need the exact details."
Carly looked up, surprised. "Really?"
"Well sure, I always want to make sure that my product will hold out," Rachel grinned now, amused by the fact that for the first time in her life, she was seeing her mother flustered.
Carly laughed now. "Okay, thanks. I'm sure that your father will be very grateful."
Rachel shook her head and closed her eyes. "Too much information. I don't really need to know about your sex life. Just take the set and do what you will with it." She covered her ears in response.
Carly's laugh rang out into the room. "Rachel, you really don't think that your father and I have only had sex two times in our entire marriage, do you?"
"Right now, that's the thought I'm most comfortable with," Rachel answered. "Thanks for coming by."
"No problem. Thanks for the samples. I'm very proud of you, baby," Carly said, shrugging into her coat. She picked up her purse and walked to the door. "I know that you will be a success. You are too much your father's and my daughter to not be." Her laugh continued ringing down the hall as she walked to the elevator.
Rachel rolled her eyes and neatly folded everything back into the box. She needed to contact production and see how soon the warehouse would be outfitted with sewing machines. She'd already spoke to one of the investors and hiring notices were already going out. She expected to hire about fifty seamstresses by the end of the year and would have half her stock finished by February. By her first of May opening, she would be ready.
Rubbing her hands together happily, Rachel sat down to run the numbers again. Everything was going to work out perfectly, of that, she was sure.
GH*GH*GH*GH*GH
Miranda walked into her office at the foundation twenty-five minutes behind schedule. She'd woken up that morning with a horrible headache and the beginnings of a stomach ache. At first, she was afraid that she'd have to call in sick—something she'd never before done—but then some tea had helped and she managed to make it to work.
Even though she knew that she looked like Hell.
Her face was very pale, as it had been for almost a month. She truly had no idea what was wrong and hadn't taken the time to go to the doctor. She knew that she should, that it was only the responsible thing to do, but simply put, hadn't had a spare moment to herself since she'd come back to Pine Valley.
She had been focused on putting the money she'd helped raise at the benefit to good use at the foundation. No, that was not entirely true, she told herself. She was a master at avoidance and she was definitely avoiding finding out if she was healthy or not.
She set her purse and laptop bag down and struggled out of her coat. She knew that it wasn't smart to let this sort of illness go on, but there was a small part of her that just didn't want to find out the truth.
Miranda thought back to the time nearly eight years when she'd first had the symptoms. Then, she'd brushed them off as exhaustion, as too much time spent studying for finals. But when she'd suffered those nearly debilitating cramps every month, she'd known that something was off. That and the abnormal bleeding during her time of the month had alerted her to visit the doctor.
But it had been the doctor's news that saddened her the most.
Her doctor had told her that she was suffering from Endometriosis and that there were medications to help lessen the symptoms, but not to cure. Miranda had been very hurt to discover that this disease might decrease her chances of doing what she'd always wanted more than anything—becoming a mother.
But she'd had nothing to do but play that hand dealt to her. At first, it had made her shy away from men. She didn't want to fall in love, find out the guy wanted children and then have to tell him that there was a big chance that she'd never get pregnant. It would just be too difficult to try and explain.
Then she'd met Spencer Cassadine.
And he'd managed to convince her that love was possible. Even when she'd told him about her little problem. He had said that he loved her and even if she wasn't able to have biological children, they'd find a way to be parents. And she'd believed him.
But now, it was different. Something was wrong and Miranda was too scared to go to the doctor to find out what it was. She sighed and tried to focus her attention on the computer screen, attempting to block out the pain that was begin to arise.
She pushed back from her desk, rising, intent on getting a cup of tea to soothe her stomach. But as she took a step across the room, pain—worse than she'd ever experienced—sliced through her midsection. She closed her eyes and willed it away, gripping the desk for support. Unaware, she moaned as it continued to ripple through her.
But it wasn't the pain that frightened her. It was the little pop she not only felt inside her, but heard as if something had put a pin to a balloon. Then she felt something warm begin to gather at her inner thighs.
"No, no, no," she moaned, falling to the floor and curling into a little ball. Just then her office door opened. She didn't even bother to open her eyes to see who was witnessing the scene. "Help me," she managed to whisper.
Greenlee Lavery stood in the doorway and goggled at the scene before her. Then, moving quickly, she raced to her niece's side. "Miranda? What's wrong?"
It was then that she saw the spreading stain of bright red on the carpet beneath the sobbing woman. Jumping up, she grabbed the phone off the desk, dialing 911 as she tried to soothe Miranda.
"It's going to be okay, sweetie. I'm calling the ambulance," she said in much the same fashion she did when one of her own children were ill. "Hello? I'm Greenlee Lavery at the Fusion towers. 500 Front Street. I need an ambulance immediately. I have a woman, approximately thirty years old. She appears to be in great pain and she's bleeding badly. Please hurry," she said, pushing the end button and turning her attention back to Miranda.
"The ambulance in coming," she whispered and Miranda managed to nod. She still kept her eyes close.
It seemed like hours as the pain continued to move through her before the EMTs arrived. Greenlee stepped back and let them begin to work on her niece.
"Ma'am? Can you tell me your name?" one of them said loudly to Miranda.
She shuddered, trying to catch her breath. "M-Miranda," she said breathlessly.
"Good, good. I'm going to try and help you."
It would be the last thing she heard for a while when she finally blacked out from the pain.
* * * * *
Later, much later, Miranda lay perfectly still on the starch white hospital bed. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating on her breathing. It was that, she thought, or the fact that she'd just lost the baby she hadn't even known she'd been carrying.
It had all happened too fast.
By the time, the EMTs had brought her to the hospital; there was nothing that could be done. She had suffered through more and more cramps until they'd began to subside and her doctor had told her that she'd passed the baby.
Her baby. The baby that she wasn't supposed to have was gone. Just like that. Spencer's baby too, she reminded herself. A Cassadine heir. And now it was gone.
She felt so empty inside, had never known that she could feel empty. Subconsciously, her hand curled in anger. Why, she wanted to cry out. Why couldn't she still be pregnant? Why did she have to lose the thing that was most precious to her?
The hardest thing had been the fact that she hadn't even known that she was pregnant. She hadn't even had the chance to try and save her child. And now it was gone. Dead. Lost.
Her eyes felt raw, like sandpaper. She'd cried during the whole process, from both the pain and the sadness. She didn't even know if she could be happy again after an experience like that.
She closed her eyes again and took slow careful breaths. Even breathing hurt. Her whole body hurt. Though she knew while the physical pain would subside in time, the emotional pain would linger for a lot longer.
She didn't even move when she heard the door click open. Nor did she open her eyes when she heard the voice of her cousin and best friend, Dr. Emma Lavery.
"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" Emma asked quietly, walking to the edge of the bed.
"Exhausted, raw, empty," Miranda answered slowly. She opened one eye and saw the doctor studying her. "Please don't pity me," she whispered.
"Never," Emma replied. Then she aimed a steely look at Miranda. "I'm keeping you overnight. You lost a lot of blood and we need to do transfusions. In the meantime, I just want you to rest. I can arrange for a counselor to come in and talk to you if you'd like."
"I can't talk to a shrink," Miranda said emphatically.
"Okay, but you need to talk to someone. Sweetie, you were about nine weeks alone. I'm assuming that it was Spencer's."
Miranda only nodded. "Yes."
"Do you want to call him? I'm sure that he would like to know what happened," Emma offered.
"No."
"Okay, just rest. I'll be back later." She walked to the door after patting Miranda's hand reassuringly. Stopping at the door, she turned back. "From the point of view of your family and best friend, I'm so, so sorry, Miranda." Without waiting for an answer, she was gone.
When the door clicked shut, Miranda closed her eyes again. She was afraid to sleep, afraid that if she did, she would dream about the child she couldn't have. As a single tear fell slowly down her cheek, she momentarily wished that she had given permission for Emma to contact Spencer.
Because as much as she didn't want to face him with the news, he was the only person she wanted comforting her right now.
GH*GH*GH*GH*GH
Spencer was this close to throwing the phone against the wall. He'd been trying to get a hold of Miranda for the last six hours. He'd called her house, her office and her cell. And still, nothing.
He hadn't talked with her in a few days and wanted to iron out the details for Christmas. He knew that she wanted to spend Christmas with him in Port Charles—especially because his little sisters were coming from Greece. But she also wanted to spend some time with her mother and sister in Pine Valley because she had seen so little of them. Plus, her sister Gabrielle was coming from her home in France.
But he couldn't even find her. And it was starting to worry him. Spencer tried to tell himself not to worry, that she was probably just busy. But when her secretary wouldn't tell him anything about her whereabouts, he knew that he had the right to be concerned.
Just as he was about to pick up the phone again, it rang. He plucked it from its base quickly. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Cassadine?"
"Yes, this is he," Spencer replied, impatient. He didn't know who was calling him from the sound of the voice.
"I'm Dr. Emma Lavery, at Pine Valley Medical Center. I-I'm also best friends with Miranda," she began but Spencer cut her off.
"Is she okay? Did something happen? Tell me. I've been trying to get a hold of her for hours," he asked worriedly.
Dr. Lavery sighed audibly and Spencer's heart dropped. "She would kill me for calling you. She explicitly asked that I not call you. But, Mr. Cassadine, she desperately needs you right now."
"Tell me what happen! Is she okay?" Spencer was practically screaming now.
"I can't tell you what happen. I'm sorry, but it is not my job to tell you. Only Miranda can tell you. But I will tell you that physically, she isn't okay now, but she will be. It's her emotional health that I'm more concerned about. She needs you."
"I will be there in two hours," Spencer replied breathlessly. "Thanks Dr. Lavery."
"Good. When you arrive at the hospital. Ask for me before you ask to see Miranda," Emma replied before hanging up.
Spencer dialed an entirely different number next. "I need the jet in half an hour," he barked. When he'd received confirmation, he raced upstairs to pack a few belongings. He had no idea how long he would be gone and wanted to be prepared.
James the butler appeared like smoke. "You are going away Mr. Cassadine?"
Spencer didn't bother to look up, kept shoving clothes into a duffel bag. "Yes. I don't know how long I'll be gone."
"I will look after the house, Sir. Everything will be taken care of. All you need to do is to take care of Miss Miranda. Tell her that we are all thinking of her," James replied before disappearing in much the same silent manner as he'd appeared.
Twenty minutes later, he was in the launch, crossing the water to the pier. Then finally, he was at the airstrip and in the air.
But he still couldn't relax. Not with the worry of what happened to Miranda running through his head. Even as he made calls to his associates, put off any meetings, and postponed work for the time being, he was still on edge.
Luckily, the two hours passed quickly. He ascended the plane and hurried across the tarmac. He'd called ahead and arranged a cab to pick him up and drop him off at the hospital. And he was very thankful that he'd done that because there was no way that he could drive in the state he was in.
Fifteen minutes later, he was at the hospital waiting for Dr. Lavery to meet him. He stood in the lobby when a perky blond walked around the corner.
"Mr. Cassadine?" she asked, reaching to shake his hand.
"Please, it's Spencer. You're Miranda's closest friend. You can call me Spencer," he said.
She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "All right Spencer. Come with me. Miranda's had a terrible shock. As I said, I can't go into it, but she'll be able to tell you more. Don't let her push you away, because she needs you now more than ever."
Spencer took a deep breath when they stopped in front of a door. Emma nodded slightly and left him alone. He was almost afraid to go inside, afraid to see what state his beloved was in. But he forced himself to walk in.
She was lying on the bed, sleeping. She was very pale and looked tired, but other than that, she didn't have any obvious signs of an accident. He wished that Dr. Lavery would have told him something. But at least he saw that she was okay, alive and sleeping.
Spencer quietly pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat in it, gripping her hand. He spent the next several hours watching her for signs that she was waking up. After a while, he began to nod off.
Then hours after he'd arrived, he felt her stir. "Miranda? It's me, Spencer. I'm here."
She opened her eyes and studied him for a moment. "You're not supposed to be here, Spencer." And she pulled her hand away, refusing to look him in the eyes.
This is what scared him the most.
