Part 85

Zander called Quinn up the morning of New Year's Eve to ask her if she was ready for New Year's.

"I think so," she said.

"I bet you aren't ready for Russian New Year. You need new clothes and new shoes by midnight."

"They wear new clothes on New Year's?"

"Yes. But you don't really have to. It is the tradition."

"I like this tradition. Mom will, too. We'll be on it this afternoon, don't doubt that."

"OK. You also have to throw out all the broken utensils from the house, and wash the windows and mirrors. "

"I will," Quinn said, laughing.

There was a wonderful dinner, that started at 10 p.m. There was Oksana and her two sons, the Connors, Joe Quinn, Alexis and her two brothers. The dinner was very interesting: they had tomatoes topped with mushrooms and cheese, a salad with carrots and apples, red caviar sandwiches, duck, and mushrooms in cream.

"Almost every Russian loves mushrooms," explained Zander. "They put them in everything."

"I wish I'd know that," Stefan said. "I'd have liked them, then."

They had a Cake with a decoration like a clock, and a hot drink made out of jam and honey with cinnamon.

Later on, waiting for midnight, Alexis and her brother Stefan were trying to talk with Oksana in Russian. They broke into frequent laughter.

"Stefan asked you if the snow likes you?" Alexis asked.

"No, he tell me I will turn into snow," Oksana answered.

"Let me try this again," said Stefan.

Peter showed Quinn a little statue of Grandfather Frost, who was just like Santa Claus, he told her, except: he wore blue, not red. He didn't bring coal to evildoers – he froze them. He brought presents to the children, though, on New Year's Eve. He had three horses, not deer. He does not live at the North Pole, but has an office in Velikiy Ustug.

"An office!" Quinn laughed.

"That's what we call it," Peter grinned. "The rest of the time, you see, his job is to organize blizzards and snow fallings."

"Does he do a good job? People might wish he didn't."

"Yes. There are so many of them, he must be good at his job, right, Q?"

When it got close to midnight, everyone got a glass of champagne, to toast the New Year, by saying goodbye to the old one and wishing that the new one would treat you kindly.

"You know it's midnight," Zander said, "by turning on the radio - or the TV - so we know when the clock of the Spasskaya Tower of the Moscow Kremlin strikes midnight. But we have to make do with the ball in Times Square."

So when the people in Times Square were yelling and screaming on the TV, and fireworks booming off in the distance in Port Charles, they were toasting each other, and drinking champagne. It was unusually quiet.

"Feels very formal," Quinn said. "Compared to all the yelling and shouting of American New Year. But it's really nice. Different. Thank you," she said. The rest of her family echoed her.

Everyone got into a bustle of exchanging presents. Quinn did not have one from Zander. "Yours is at the gatehouse," he explained.

They walked up there later, when everyone else was chattering and looking at presents. He showed her the banner he had made on the computer. "What does that say?" he asked.

"Happy New Year?"

"Good guess. But what's the last word?"

She looked carefully. "K, N – the H is an N?"

"Right."

"I remember. Quinn. That's Quinn. What a nice thing to do."

She had carried his present up. It was a CD of Irish music. "I got to thinking, the folk music is really central to that culture," she said. "I figure that has to illuminate it some way."

He smiled. "Thank you. I really like this."

He gave her a little box.

"Cute," she said. It was a little Russian lady doll, that you can open up to get another one that is smaller, and open up to get another one that's smaller. Quinn sat down on the couch, and put the little dolls on the coffee table. Zander sat on the floor on the other side. She opened another and another and was laughing, expecting them to stop well before they did.

"Matrushka Dolls, they call those," he said.

"Matrushka. Doesn't that mean grandmother?"

"No, that's Babushka."

"Does it mean mother?"

"I guess you could say that."

"You can only guess? Tim's right. What a language!"

"It's like, saying, Mamacita, maybe?"

"OK. I can get that."

"My first New Year in a long time, with a New Year's tree," he said.

She smiled. "Are you happy?"

"I think so! No one ever asks me that. Yes. I think I am."

"It's my first one without a boyfriend in years," Quinn said. "It's not bad. I'm free."

"You might have to modify that," he said. "I took the liberty of calling you my girlfriend, to Emily, when she came into the office."

"You saw Little Emily?"

"Yeah, and I read her the riot act!"

"I wish I had been there!"

He laughed. "Me, too."

"Was it an accident?"

"I don't think so. I can't be sure, but I think she wanted to find me. She told me the wonderful news of how she figured out I wasn't guilty in the AJ case. I think she thought I was going to jump for joy that I was off the hook. I told her I had nothing to say to her; then to get her to leave, I told her I would send her the letter I wrote. She knew her parents wouldn't let her get it, so I told her to go to Deception and get it from Oksana."

"Aren't you mischievous? Did she know Oksana was your mother yet?"

"I think I told her that. Then a couple of days later, having read that letter, she shows up again. Now she's telling me Elizabeth should not have told me about the guy she dated at school, and that she wasn't dating that guy anymore anyway. She wanted to prove she was in the right, I guess. Her family didn't tell her everything about AJ, and so she broke up with me, which she sees as entirely unavoidable."

"You don't think she wants you back?"

"No, I wouldn't have said that. I think she wants to be the one in the right. I'm supposed to be the one in the wrong. Or her family is, or someone else."

"I hope it didn't make you too unhappy."

"No. Anyway, I told her both times I had another girlfriend."

"You can call me that to her all you want."

"Thanks," he smiled. "Then she told me the whole hospital knows I'm only a toy to you. I don't know where she got that."

"I've never talked to her, ever," Quinn said. "I only saw her for a second when the whole family came through the ICU with Dr. Monica. They saw Pete and your parents – did you know about that?"

"Yes. Alan Quartermaine told them I was dealing drugs. I had told Dad about it. Mom, however, was new to this and was having a fit about it. It was such a great thing that they managed to take Pete out for an hour without being jerks about it. Figures the Quartermaines happened along. Nothing can go entirely right."

He got up and put the Irish CD on, at a low volume. "But what a miracle," he said, eyes wide with wonder.

He sat back down. "It would be hard to argue with Peter there chattering and teasing you to get along. Making you laugh and all that."

"Yes."

"If I were there, there probably would have been a fight," he said.

Quinn put one of the smaller dolls on her finger, and shook her at Zander, addressing him in Quinn's idea of a Russian accent: "Now don't say that."

"OK," he said to the doll, "but somehow it happens. I'm glad those three went. Pete got to be with both parents without some issue coming up."

"This is because Pete is a thoughtless youth," the doll said. "He has older brother to handle all the issues. "

"OK," Zander laughed, then took the doll and put her under a bigger one, as if to shut her up. "What did the Quartermaines do?"

"They came out of the elevator. All dressed up. Since I had seen the other three before, I knew the younger girl was Emily. She was the one that said, 'that's Zander's mother.' I didn't know you'd gotten her into the same room with Oksana to get that letter, so I thought she could tell by looking at Oksana. Then Dr. Alan made his insulting statements, Dr. Monica told Dr. Alan to be quiet, herded all of them back into the elevator, and they were gone. Your parents and Pete left a minute later. You know, I bet they were all on your side at that moment. It could have helped your parents get along."

"I'm glad Pete was there," Zander said. "Your theory could be true, but I bet it's not. Mom could have started blaming Dad for my criminal record, and then he would have said she was making too big a deal of it."

"It's all in the past, though," Quinn answered. "And Dr. Alan addressed them together, as it were. I really felt like they were on the same side. That Dr. Alan was pushing them onto the same side."

"I hope you're right. If you are, it may be the first thing they agreed on in years. I never did inspire agreement in them, though."

"It's not your fault."

He looked at her appreciatively. He got up and sat on the couch next to her and put his arms around her. She leaned back against him, one of the little dolls in her hands, looking at it, turning it around. "I know," she said. "It was what I said to Joanna. She was asking me all these questions."

"Which you deserve, Nurse Question."

Quinn made the little doll hit him lightly in the chest. "I thought we were the only ones there, but I should have realized the walls have ears around there. I told her you were perfect, because you don't need all that serious stuff. I was off the hook from Paul and his dumb marriage proposal, and I said I felt like I could have a good time with you who is far from thinking about all that stuff. If somebody heard that and it went around the hospital gossip train, which always changes and exaggerates a story, and then someone wanted to spin it to be as mean as possible, then it could end up coming out as me considering you a toy. But I don't. I was trying to tell Joanna we have no pressure from each other."

"You forgot my house and Pete and Little Emily, that I am putting through school. I need help. I am closer than you think."

The doll was lecturing him again. "You let Oksana and the Doctor Quartermaines do that for them and just take me ice skating."

"You sound like my shrink," he told the doll. "Always advising me to do something fun."

"She's a good shrink," said the doll.

"Oh be quiet," he said to the doll, taking her and putting her on the table. Then he leaned over to kiss her puppeteer-operator.

When Zander and Quinn walked back to the main house, everyone was starting to leave. "Happy New Year" echoed back and forth.

Zander walked her to her car. She opened the door, then turned and said, "I really like that quieter New Year. I can imagine it without Times Square and all that shouting. Just the clock chiming. Romantic. Or is there a crowd there?"

"No, I don't think so. There are more traditions there. That no one will break. Nobody'd go there. They stay home, because it's the way you do things. A few people might have noisy parties. We were in the neighbor's apartment, or they were in ours. There were a lot of people around, but it was quieter. You heard the chiming, they did the toast. Then the president came on the TV and congratulated everyone!"

"Quaint. Charming."

All the other cars had gone down the drive, and Oksana and Pete had gone inside.

"There's one last little quaint tradition."

"OK. I'm in the mood for those."

"You can't drive your car the first time in any New Year, until you hug the oldest son of the party host."

She laughed, and hugged him. "You're funny," she said. "And everyone else drove away without keeping that tradition."

"I don't know what effect that will have on them," he said. "You will get one wish come true for it."

"This tradition gets more complex!" She reached up and kissed him. "I made that one up," she said. "It's for nurses. If the first one you kiss in a new year is your worst patient from the old year, then you will have good luck all year."

He smiled, and then shut her door for her, and she backed out and drove down the driveway.

"Are you all right working and studying at the same time?" Alexis asked Zander, as they sat in traffic in the snow one morning.

"I think so. I would go nuts if I didn't work with you. If I tried to study all day, with nothing else to do – I can't even picture that. I could never get started, knowing I had nothing else to do all day."

Alexis smiled. "I think I can identify. If I had all day to study in law school or college, I'm sure I never considered that totally wonderful."

Amanda had been coming to the office early in the morning, and spending a couple of hours a day with Zander there, before the day got started, and an hour or so in the evening, reviewing the same things.

"It does a lot," Zander told Alexis. "More than you would think. It must be that the whole day you spend in school is a lot of time on other things. With a tutor you skip everything else and only need a couple of hours a day to do the actual lessons."

"And in a regular class they'd spend the time evenly. Amanda can spend a lot of time on what you might need explanations for, and less on what you already get."

"I took a dry run test and I did pretty well with the English," he said. "Not too bad on the Science and Math parts. Then there was the English literature, which I was short in. So we work more on that. The part they call Social Studies – I was good with the economics and the geography and the political science, and ok with the history except the American history. I don't know that so well. I went to school here 8 years. They didn't teach us much of it, I guess. What I did get on that test I had learned in Russia somehow."

"You understand the legal system pretty well," Alexis observed.

"Too much experience with it!"

"See, it wasn't all bad. It'll be useful."

Later, Zander and Alexis went to Dara Jenson's office. He had testified in court before, so he only needed some reminders, he said. At first, Dara Jenson had been adversarial to him, before, since she was the prosecutor. Then he was her witness in a case against a higher up drug dealer. Now he was her witness and the victim of the crime.

He had not seen much regarding the shooting itself, but now, it turned out, Dara wanted to get his testimony on about every single thing that had happened with AJ before the shooting. It had all become relevant, somehow.

Zander had difficulty remembering what time it was when each of these things happened. Dara had some computer records from the computer he had been working on. There were times recorded in these records, when he had done what. He recalled how the job was done, and was able to get more detailed about how long it had been between one thing and another.

He clearly remembered Sonny telling him to lock the door. "Was this normal?"

"Yes, we locked that door every night."

"Was it normally your job?"

"No, not particularly."

"Who made sure it was locked?"

"We did – nobody in particular."

"Was it odd for Sonny to tell you to do it?"

"It was unusual. But it didn't feel odd. Not suspicious."

"When did you first become aware of AJ that day?"

"When he was in the storeroom. I went in for some reason. He was there and Sonny was there, too."

"Did you have anything to do with getting AJ there, at all?"

"No. There he was."

"So it was unusual?"

"Not so I would notice. I knew the family well, and I knew, from my girlfriend at the time, about how Sonny's wife was AJ's ex-wife, and how they fought over custody of their son. So it wasn't entirely strange to me that though AJ was not usually there, that he had come there to argue with Sonny about something."

"I need you to establish these times and what you've seen. I won't take long. Now on the cross examination, as I remember before, you were pretty good about that. Don't give them more than they ask for; that way they run out of steam faster. If 'yes' or 'no' will answer the question, say only that. If it makes it seem wrong, leave it alone until it's my turn again. I can clear it up then."

"I remember that."

"All right. Just do your best."

Zander and Quinn went skating around the indoor rink at Port Charles University. When they finally took a rest, Quinn exclaimed about how much he could do.

"You are so comfortable on a slippery surface wearing only thin blades! I only go often enough to get my balance each time I go, after trying to for at least 15 minutes. Yet there you are skating backwards and sideways and jumping and twirling around."

"Another one of those Russian things, there's so much time to do it and so many places to skate," he said. "Then it's like riding a bike; it comes back after a little while."

"Still, you're so solid, sure of what you're doing – like it's not harder than walking."

"Genetic, too, because my parents did a lot of it when they were young, and they were both pretty good. Good enough to get on the national team and get to America."

"I didn't know that. That's a good question I never thought of. How they got here so they could defect."

"A question Quinn did not think of! What a thought! I think he was her coach, or one of the coaches."

"When they were supposed to go back, they just stayed?"

"It was harder than that. I should get them to tell you. It's interesting, that story. I think you would like it."

"It sounds intriguing. Do you want to go out on the ice again?"

"Want me to lift you up and spin you around? You could feel like you're flying."

"Don't even think about it!"

"Didn't you get picked up while cheerleading? Doesn't Mercy High have those guy cheerleaders who pick you up?"

"No," she said. "Had they existed, their feet would have been on solid ground. The whole areas of the bottoms of their shoes would be on solid grass that you can stand on without sliding!"

"You have an aptitude," Zander answered. "You balance very well."

"Thank you. I think."

They went to Kelly's on the way back. Drinking hot chocolate reminded Quinn of the Russian hot drink from New Year's.

"I guess that culture is expert on drinks that warm you up," she said. "I think I'll look up those recipes."

"Oh, I'll find them for you," he said. "You need them."

Quinn waved to Bobbie Spencer as she came in.

"Dr. Jones got a subpoena to go to court today," she said to Zander, reminded of him, because he was Nurse Spencer's husband. "About you – how you got shot and what he did with the bullets."

"I get to go too, I'm afraid."

"If I'm not on day shift, I'll go so you have a cheerleader."

"I'd hate to start ruining your life like I did Emily's," he said, grinning a little bit.

"I think I would find it interesting," Quinn said, shoving his arm playfully. "As interesting as she did. I always wanted to know how they solved the case. Where the bullets were and whether they could match them to the gun."

"I don't know," Zander said. "That would be part of the evidence, for the trial."

"They could get the defendant to plead."

"I suppose they could. I think Carly should plead insanity. She qualifies, up front, no question, clearly, and unmistakably."

"Do you know her very well?"

"Not so much so as I've heard all about her. She and AJ got together one night, and she got pregnant. They were friends and he was drunk, or something. They weren't in love and all that stuff."

"And all that stuff!"

"Yes, that stuff. He marries her anyway. They have their son. She lived there in the big house with all of them; that's how they generally do things. When you get married, you don't move away, just move your spouse into the big house."

"Your new associate member."

"Right! You move the associate member in. Promptly, they begin feuding with at least one in-law. Carly was not really the Quartermaine type. I don't know what background she had, but it was not upper class, and so she didn't merely fit in easily. You have to have a thick skin to live with the Quartermaines, I believe. They insult each other all day; except for Emily; maybe it's being the youngest that gets her out of it. Well, and another exception is Jason, but you still feel that he's only keeping his insults to himself. The grandfather is the worst. The grandmother makes you feel like she's on your side. She's the only one who can shut him up. Then there's Ned, the cousin, he's the most judgmental – well, I shouldn't talk about him, because I can't think of anything nice to say, and I can't believe Alexis ever went out with him, because he's not good enough for her, which I realize more and more each day."

"I'm sure you don't want your Alexis in that house with that family," Quinn said. "By all means, discourage all romances between Alexis and any Quartermaine."

"OK, I'm glad to have your approval, Quinn. Don't look like I'm kidding! And she does deserve somebody who wants her to be happy, not to be insulted all day and have to fight off interference from the in-laws and hear their cutting remarks."

"What about Jerry?"

"Jerry? The owner of the Outback?"

"Yeah. Does he make a fuss over everybody or just Alexis?"

"I don't think he makes anything near the fuss that he makes when Alexis is with you."

"A-ha!"

"It's a thought. Does she go there more than she goes to other restaurants? I think so. Well, but not so that I noticed it. I'll pay more attention. I know. Let's go to the Outback, just you and I. We'll pay attention to that especially. Then go there with Alexis as soon as possible afterward, pay the same attention, and then compare."

"OK. I want to find out if he's good enough for her, too, though. It might take some investigating. I went out on a date with his brother once. He was OK, on the surface, at least."

"Investigate, right up your alley. Did he mention Jerry?"

"I think he did! But it was more things Jerry and he used to do, which all sounded mischievous."

"At least they were only mischievous, rather than criminal."

"So, OK. Jerry is not a deviant," she smiled sideways, mischievously.

"I'm glad that's settled," Zander said.

"Their accent makes them sound mischievous, no matter what they are saying," Quinn said. "I feel Australia must be a rather light-hearted place."

"I wonder if they have their green cards," Zander said.

"If they do, the government is going to get complaints from me," Quinn said. "If they won't give your grandparents theirs so they can come and see you, then they better not have given them to those two!"

Alexis and Sergei were standing on the dock. "Those cranes belong to ELQ, a local company, and those cranes to the Barrington Corporation. That dock belongs mostly to local organized crime, but it's called Corinthos' Coffee Company – the warehouse farthest over. That's where Zander got shot, in fact."

"How do they get away with smuggling over there?" Sergei asked.

"It must be they own some dirty federal agent. They must be checking things in, but not everything. At least some coffee goes into that place. But not enough to account for their being able to keep it up – make money on it."

"I was curious, and looked up stuff about that company, because they are around here so much," Sergei said. "They don't look so good, without Jax Enterprise, they'd be in a mess."

"He owns some shares, true, and he's probably doing a lot to keep them in shape, but he could do more if they didn't have their main vulnerability, which is, this same mob guy, Corinthos, owning a block of shares."

"They can't get rid of him?"

"They haven't tried. No one's ever thought of it, even!"

"In a town this size, maybe you could. I've seen the Russians get pushed out of whole sections of Daytona. The mob that is. They're the worst mob to deal with. If they can be pushed out, then these guys can."

"Oh, man," Alexis said. "That is a tempting thought. What might work better, is to push on ELQ. This mobster's so-called legal presence on their board gets him in on other things."

"How bad is mob enforcement? The goon squad?"

"The goon department? Not too bad. Slack. They get some money from Luke and from Kelly's probably. Almost voluntary, is my guess. The rest of the places down here probably pay them. They might be weak. Taking it for granted. Putting a hit on a civilian like AJ Quartermaine can lose them respect in their own circle. They'll try to make it seem like it wasn't a hit, just the wife's project. Still, a mobster without control of his wife isn't a good thing either. On the other hand, maybe he'll want to look like the one who planned it."

"Ha ha," Sergei said, "Let's see. Who own the crane next to the EQ one?"

"Barrington Corporation," she answered. "Let's go to my office; I know who owns a lot of that."