Elizabeth Webber almost clapped in glee when she spotted her mail on the hallway credenza. It was here. Her newest issue of US Weekly had arrived and both of her favorite "rehab" graduates Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears were on the cover.
It was pathetic how much excitement this one magazine brought her. Elizabeth had at one point today had to stop a little girl in her nursery school class from cutting all her hair off and explain to the three year old that she shouldn't try to do everything Britney did. Yet here she was, almost jumping up and down in the entryway just seeing Britney on the cover of a magazine.
"Elizabeth? Is that you?"
Elizabeth moved toward her grandmother's voice, walking into the kitchen. She could smell fresh baked garlic bread and her grandmother's secret recipe marinara sauce. It must have been a good day for Gram's if she was cooking.
"Hi Grams." Elizabeth paused by the stove to kiss the older woman's cheek. "That smells wonderful." She busied herself setting the table.
"Thank you darling. It shouldn't be long now." Audrey Hardy turned; wiping her hands on the towel she kept by the stove. She was too much of a lady to wear jeans or wipe her hands on her pants. Elizabeth would never forget the day she had watched her grandmother create her special marinara sauce from scratch wearing a cream cashmere sweater, without a spot ruining it in the process. "How was your day?"
"Three emergency bathroom runs, two crying three year olds, one almost hair emergency and only four conversations involving Barney. So over all not that bad." Elizabeth smiled. She may make jokes, but she really did love her job and all the children in her classroom. At how many jobs could she say she got hugs every single day?
She made a move to the wall calendar and checked the appointments for tomorrow. "Did Dr. Rendall's office call and confirm your appointment tomorrow?"
"Yes. It's at four thirty. You'll be able to make it?"
Elizabeth nodded. Her grandmother had broken her hip several months earlier while trying to clean out her attic. Audrey had originally refused Elizabeth's offers to come and help her out, but once she further injured it by stumbling down some stairs, Elizabeth had ignored her grandmother's protests and moved from Boulder to Port Charles.
"Any plans for the night my dear?" Her grandmother's voice didn't sound prying to the untrained ear. But Elizabeth had spent many summers with this woman and lived with her full time for several months now. She recognized an incoming attack when she heard one.
"Grams...I have to work tomorrow."
"I'm not asking you to go out all night Elizabeth. But you've been here almost six months and you've not met anyone your own age."
"That's not true. What about Heather?"
Audrey sniffed. "The nurse at my doctor's office does not count." She transferred the sauce to a serving bowl and moved it to the table. Turning her attention to completing the pasta, she continued. "I love you, but I think you need to spend time with someone other than an old lady like me."
Elizabeth walked up behind her grandmother and gave her a hug. "But I happen to like this old lady." Hearing her grandmother's sigh, she continued. "I promise I'll try harder, but I like my life the way it is right now. I love my job. I am learning to love Port Charles and I love spending time with you."
Audrey turned to her granddaughter and raised her hand to the younger woman's cheek. "I just don't want you to regret moving here."
"That will never happen Grams." Elizabeth kissed Audrey's cheek and went to sit at the table. "Now, are we ready to eat?"
Robin Scorpio put her finishing touches on her chocolate mousse and then placed the tray on the second row of the pastry case. She smiled proudly at her accomplishment and pulled the door shut, spinning around to turn off the lights, leaving the tiny bakery basked in moonlight. She stepped into her office, reached for her coat, and draped it around her tiny frame, her keys already in her right palm as she edged toward the door. The neighborhood was safe enough and it kind of helped that her uncle was the police commissioner and the entire town knew it. There was also the matter of her mother being a candidate for the upcoming presidency, but, other than a few swarming reporters, the matter almost never affected her life directly.
She went around the shop switching off the oven, checking the freezer's temperature, and any other odd task she was expected to attend to before she allowed herself to go home to her quiet apartment. Courtney Matthews, her roommate, worked as a professional model so their schedules only ever crossed on weekends. Robin kept a strict nine a.m. to seven p.m. schedule for her bakery while Courtney kept a strict agent who was in charge of her affairs. Friends since kindergarten, Courtney and Robin were as different as tigers and tortoises.
Much like the tiger, Courtney went out and staked her territory. Random attacks on inadequate competition were not foreign to the young woman. Like the tortoise, Robin tried not to interact with the outside world unless thrust into it (she spent her life inside a bakery where people came to visit her). She kept up-to-date on current events, but only because her mother's career choice forced her to. She didn't know any good jokes or wear a ridiculous amount of make-up, so men weren't exactly flocking to her.
Courtney Matthews flew into the bakery, her long blonde hair billowing out behind her. Her long lean body was accented with what Robin could only assume was the latest in high fashion. With a practiced air, Courtney gathered her hair into an elegant bun without so much as a glance in a mirror to complete it.
"Roby!" Courtney was the only person on the planet Robin would allow to call her by that old school yard nickname. "Just the woman I needed. Are you unbelievable busy or can you talk?"
"I was just closing up the shop." Robin explained, flipping on a light so that she could see her friend without having to squint. "What can I help you with?"
"Teach me to make cupcakes?" Seeing her roommate's incredulous stare, Courtney hurried to continue. "Nothing fancy. Just regular old cupcakes for a bake sale."
Robin opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was actually stunned. Cupcakes? For a split second, she couldn't make sense of anything. The few ingredients that cupcakes required left her memory, and she was at a loss. "Cupcakes? Of course. Come back to the kitchen and I'll show you."
"Oh thank you Roby. You are a lifesaver. My first born child is named for you. The second born as well."
"Do you have a father picked out for these future children you'll be naming me after?" Robin asked dryly, blindly grabbing the needed ingredients. "What kind of cupcakes? There are all kinds. Vanilla? Caramel? Chocolate? Gingerbread? We could do Coconut if you want. Do kids like coconut?"
"George Clooney won't mind. We've had this discussion before several times. George likes you, you know that." Courtney began to grab the ingredients out of Robin's hands. "I asked you to teach me, which means I make the cupcakes, not you Pint Sized." She shot her friend a grin. "So I think that means we need to keep it as simple as possible."
Robin made up a quick list for Courtney. "You're going to need five ounces of butter, five ounces of sugar, six ounces of flour, three eggs--" She paused. "I'll get the ingredients and tell you what to do. That'll save time. I have to pick Morgan up from Bobbie's in an hour. You'll need to pre-heat the oven to three-hundred and fifty degrees. Do that first. I'll put the cupcake liners in the pan, and leave you to it. If you get lost, I'll help." Robin instructed with a sweet smile.
Courtney stuck her tongue out. "I can read directions Robin. And my every adventure in the kitchen does not involve me needing you to help me out." She crossed her arms in a mock huff. Courtney was many things, a loyal friend, a great model, a super karaoke singer, but any form of a cook she wasn't. And both girls knew it.
"Fine." Robin threw her hands in the air, clearly not put off in the least. "If you see smoke, please let me know." She dug her cell phone out of her hip pocket and dialed Bobbie's home number.
Courtney hugged Robin hard. "It won't get to the point of seeing smoke." She flipped an errant hair behind her ear. "Checking on the great hope for the male gender?"
"I'm getting worried, Court. He hasn't spoken a word to anyone. The school keeps calling and asking if maybe I should move him to a 'special' school." Robin bit down hard on her lip.
She had gained guardianship of her godson after her old friend, Sonny Corinthos, went to prison. Carly, Morgan's mother, had fallen victim to a drive-by shooting, and, since then, the child hadn't uttered a word to anyone, least of all Robin. She had had him checked out by every doctor in the state, wondering if maybe he was losing his hearing since his only form of communication had become sign language, but they all said the same thing: he would only speak when he felt comfortable. It had only been a few months and she knew he was having a hard time adjusting. Everyone knew about his parents' fates, and she doubted it was easy for him at school.
"Yes Bobbie, I'm here." Robin left her friend in the kitchen, her attention now on the caller at the other end.
"Robin, Morgan is doing fine. You really don't need to check on him every few hours." Bobbie's voice held the playful rebuke of a grandmother dealing with a first time mother.
"I know. I just...worry ridiculously. I'm sorry." Robin quickly apologized, feeling tongue-tied. What had Sonny been thinking when he left her his youngest son? She was clearly not cut out for the job. Other than showering him with sweets, what kind of mother was she going to make?
"It's alright Robin. All new mothers go through this. Carly used to..." Bobbie's voice trailed off as she remembered her daughter. Though Carly and Bobbie had had their differences throughout the years, Bobbie's love for her eldest child had never been called into question. She mourned her loss keenly.
"Wha-what did Carly used to do?" Robin never thought she'd ask that question and really want to know. She and Carly had been enemies long before Morgan's birth, but she had never doubted the woman's parenting abilities.
Bobbie sniffed a little and pushed aside the memory. "She used to call me every time Morgan cried at night. It was a long six months." She laughed at the memory.
Realizing that it must have still been hard for Bobbie to deal with, Robin rambled on, "I don't mean to--bring up sad memories for you. I can't imagine how hard it must be to have lost a child..."
"Don't worry about it." Robin could imagine the hand wave Bobbie would do, dismissing her concern. "I miss my daughter everyday, but life must go on. We have this wonderful little boy here with us to remind us of her and we have to do right by him."
"I agree." Robin smiled genuinely and played with the phone's cord. "Can I talk to him?"
"Sure you can." Robin could hear Bobbie moving through the brownstone. She could tell when Bobbie took the receiver away from her ear and started to hand it to Morgan. "Hey Morgan. Robin's on the phone."
Robin waited a beat. "Hi Morgan! Are you having a good time at Grandma Bobbie's?"
He said nothing. "I'll be by to get you in a little while and take you home. Your Aunt Courtney is making a big mess in the kitchen, but, the good news is, we can sneak some cupcakes before that bake sale tomorrow. Does that sound like fun?" Still, no response. "I love you, Morgan. Let me talk to Grandma Bobbie." She put her hand over the receiver and collected herself.
The six-year-old handed over the phone and Robin heard the familiar voice come on the line. "He will get better Robin."
"Oh, I know!" Robin expressed with a cheeriness she didn't quite feel. "Thanks again, Bobbie."
"It's not a problem Robin. We'll see you in an hour."
Robin hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen. The bag of flour had busted apparently, because its contents now Courtney trapped in a white powdery circle. Robin could already smell the cupcakes and she closed her eyes to mentally devour the taste. "Not bad!" She congratulated, wiping the flour off of her friend's nose.
"At least it wasn't the batter. That stuff is a pain to wash out of hair."
"Yes, it is. I can clean this up. Why don't you check on the cupcakes?" Robin suggested, already moving toward the mop.
Courtney opened the oven door and immediately began coughing as the smoke poured out of it. She grabbed at the muffin pan and raced for the back door. Robin began moving quickly and held the door open for her.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry." Robin snatched the fire extinguisher when the smoke didn't dissipate.
Courtney shrugged. "It was the test batch anyways." She wiped her forehead with her arm. "Wanna try another batch?"
"Absolutely!" Food was Robin's passion and she wasn't ashamed to admit it. Besides, her friend was in a bind, and she knew the quickest way to learn something was to do it yourself. She set the timer once Courtney had prepared the ingredients for a second time and handed her friend the newest issue of People while she grabbed the newspaper and flipped to the back where the Funnies were.
Courtney grinned. "Trying to give me a hint?"
"I thought it'd make you feel better to see how much effort these people have to put into their appearance when you simply wake up and look stunning." Robin replied.
"Ahh ego massaging. Are you sure you're not the one in your family with political ambitions?"
"Oh God, I hope not!" Robin overstressed her words and rolled her eyes. "How did the photo shoot go today? Marco still bugging you with his 'relationship' problems...or lack thereof?"
Courtney rolled her eyes. "Never let it be said that gays have it all together. Marco is worse than I am when he's between men."
"Maybe we should set him up with my ex-husband. They have a lot in common, like carrying around mirrors to look at themselves in public." Though she joked, the severed relationship was still a fresh wound and she didn't think she'd ever be able to forgive Logan for cheating on her.
"No we like Marco."
"Check on the cupcakes." Robin lost herself in a Snoopy film strip.
This time when Courtney opened the oven, there was no smoke. The cupcakes looked as if they belonged on the cover of some food magazine. "Damn girl. Why can mine never look like this?"
"Those are yours. I didn't do a thing but set the timer."
Courtney raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Yet cooking success stories like this occur only when you are in the room. Curious."
"It's a God-given talent I suppose." Robin shrugged noncommittally. "Here." She handed Courtney a plastic container. "Once they've cooled, set them in this."