He wasn't talking. In the thirty minutes since she had made her announcement, Cruz hadn't said a word. To be fair, no one had said a word. Her nephews had blinked rapidly, mumbled something Bobbie still hadn't been able to translate, and sped out into the street, the loud rev of Patrick's engine echoing through the quiet neighborhood.
By sheer luck, she had managed to maneuver Cruz towards his couch before his knees gave out beneath him. He had sat there, unblinking ever since. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest, she would have called the paramedics, convinced he had stopped breathing. His eyes were riveted to the exact spot she had been standing when she had made her announcement. Most likely he was reliving the experience in his mind. What she couldn't tell was if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Not that she blamed him for the shock really. Bobbie realized she must have had a similar expression on her face when Dr. Ric Lansing had told her the news. When he had asked if her being pregnant was possible, she had laughed. Dr. Lansing had asked her to humor him and allow a pregnancy test to be run. She even bet him a case of her brother's best tequila that he was wrong. When he had returned and said the words, "You are pregnant", she had been half convinced it was a joke. It had taken at least 15 minutes before she realized he was serious.
"Baby? Baby please say something." she begged him, resting her hand on his arm.
"Baby." He muttered. "Baby. Baby. Baby."
It wasn't the precise reaction she was looking for but at least he was talking now, she thought wryly. At least it was a start.
She began to run her fingers through his short black hair. "I shouldn't have told you like that." she sighed. "I should have waited until they left but then I got this feeling they weren't going to leave until at least one of them had beaten you into a bloody pulp. And I couldn't let that happen now could I?"
Cruz began to blink rapidly and turned to face her on the couch. He could feel his heart beat starting to return to normal. In a court of law, he was willing to swear it had stopped when she made her stunning announcement. His mouth moved several times before he could find the words he wanted to say. "We're having a baby?"
Hesitantly Bobbie nodded. The nerves that had been present from the second she had found out, suddenly took over her entire being. Would he be ok with this? Did he want this? Would he stick around? "Yes."
"Wow." He shook his head in amazement. So this was what Lucky had felt like, Cruz mused. As if your world turned completely upside down and you were still walking right side up. He made a mental note to compare the sensation with his friend, if they still in fact were friends, later. Cruz's eyes widened as realization washed over him. This baby would be family to Lucky and Patrick. He would be family, officially family.
"I know this isn't anything we talked about..." she began.
It was probably the wrong reaction and he would blame his shock if she got mad at him, but Cruz snorted. "I see where Lucky got that talent for understatement from."
Bobbie smacked at his hand. "But I do need to know what you are thinking."
Only one question rattled in his head. "Are you ok?"
Blinking, she shook her head in confusion. "What? Yes I'm fine."
"No I mean, are you ok?" Cruz groaned in frustration. Maybe this was the first time someone had ever made this announcement to him but he was aware of certain facts. Like the fact Bobbie had not been pregnant in several years. And she was a grandmother. "I mean is this ok for you because..." Groaning again, he shook his head. He had figured out a long time ago bringing up a woman's age was a bad move. Bringing up a pregnant woman's age had to be up there on the all-time stupid list.
"Because I'm slightly older than the average new mom?" Bobbie guessed smiling. Once the news had finally sunk in, she had to admit she had been worried. It wasn't as if she had several years between this pregnancy and her last one, she was talking decades. "Dr. Lansing wants to see me more often than he would normally but so far he thinks everything is fine."
Cruz blew out a relieved breath. "Good."
Bobbie searched his eyes for any indication of what he felt about this. Was he nervous? Excited? Ready to run for the hills? Regretting ever starting this adventure with her? "What about you?" she finally managed to ask. "Are you ok with this?"
His smile lit up his face, making his eyes twinkle. "I'm terrified out of my mind. But in a good way, I think."
"You think?"
"Yeah I do." Cruz brought a finger up to trace her face, down her neck, down the center of her chest, stopping at her stomach, where he splayed his fingers crossed. He dragged his eyes to meet hers, reassuring her worries for now with his obvious excitement. "We're having a baby." He whispered.
It was all Robin could do to put one foot in front of the other and own up to what she had done. That wasn't to say that she would take blame for everything; he had better be sorry too or else. The drive across town hadn't exactly been stress-free, because her car was making funny noises and she didn't want to take it into the shop again. After her accident, she had had to take a rental for a little while, and that had been absolute hell. Having taken her car out prematurely, the mechanic warned her that this sort of thing would continue to happen. She had tried to explain to him just how much she depended on her car, both for herself and for her son. Well, this was what she got.
She couldn't stop thinking about her last conversation with Patrick. His angry words filled her memory and, no matter what she did, she couldn't think of a single thing she could have done or said that would have made things better. If she had lied, it would have just drawn the fight out longer and two months was a hell of a long time to have a fight, but that was the most accurate way to describe their relationship.
Even the radio stations were against her, every single one of them. What was wrong with the world when she couldn't find a single uplifting song when there were billions upon billions to choose from? Why did the stations only play depressing, slit-your-wrists music? She was going to write a strongly worded letter and maybe it would make it to the governor without getting covered in green finger paint.
Lately, it was like Morgan was making up lost time for the six years of repression he had apparently suffered in the Corinthos' home. He had promised he just thought the walls needed some color and that was the last day Robin had left him with Lucas and Dillon. It had taken two days and a gallon of cleaning products to clean up the mess on every wall in the loft, including hers and Courtney's. She was relieved when Courtney called from location and said that she wasn't going to be home for another week, relieved because Morgan had gotten a hold of a pair of scissors and ruined at least three of the young woman's favorite blouses.
The streetlights were at least on her side. She hadn't hit a single red one, which could be taken either way she supposed. It'd be best to get it all out in the open now. She didn't want Patrick to think that he couldn't come and talk to her when something was bothering him; nor did she want him to hide behind her insecurities and pick stupid fights with her. She didn't want to be taken advantage of and, after much thought, she had started to see the holes in Patrick's logic of seeing her as a means to an end.
She had written each one down. First, his lack of eye contact during the fight. Second, she hadn't been alone in that kiss and, if she had answered his question any other way, she had no doubt they'd no longer be battling a mutual case of raging libido. Third, well you got the gist. The list was shoved into the back pocket of her Capri's in case she would have to provide hard evidence. This was Patrick. Maybe she should have drawn him a picture in crayon.
Next to the note was Patrick's studio key. She hadn't given it back to him, but then he hadn't exactly asked for it back, had he, so if he had the door locked and got interrupted, it was something he had brought on himself? She was sick of making excuses for him.
Did he really believe he had no one he could count on? Noah had been as frequent a visitor in her life as her own father so she didn't know him all that well. Logan, well he was just a selfish prick. And she had compared them, Robin sighed rubbing her forehead as she parked the car and headed toward the building. What did they really have in common, besides messy hair and a last name? Patrick was incredibly loyal: she had seen it with how he was when his family needed him. He had a short temper and often acted before thinking so that always showed the bad side
of him.
"Just knock. Knocking is polite." Robin recited the last part over and over like a mantra as she stood outside his door. She would at least give him a chance to open the door. If he didn't answer, well she would just have to go in, wouldn't she? Had he missed her? It was a question she had asked herself a hundred times since she woke up this morning, since every morning following that awful night.
"Patrick, I have something to tell you." Robin informed the block of wood serving as the front door. "And it's not the easiest thing for me to say. In fact, it's damn near impossible for me to say, but you're worth the effort. Don't interrupt me! I need to get this out or I never will...and they're so important, you're so important. Do you have any idea--well how could you when I keep prattling on like an idiot? You see what you do to me. I question every move I make and I only feel confident when you're next to me. I know you're probably pretty sore at me, but I never realized you hadn't told your family. What's with that, huh? Not telling them when they could have been helping you through this?" Robin continued, feeling slightly better than she had when she had practiced this speech in the rearview mirror.
"Will you let me know what the door has to say?" Greta interrupted, suddenly standing behind Robin. "I hate suspense." She feigned interest.
Stupid cocky, sarcastic, foul-smelling whore, Robin almost screamed at her. She was in a gray and blue track suit and tennis shoes. Robin found a little bit of satisfaction when she saw that the toe of each shoe was starting to wear away. "Is there something I can help you with Wilma?"
"It's Greta." The other woman stressed out her name as if she was talking to a small child. Robin didn't smile. She knew it was Greta. She had gone with a slightly less offensive name in choosing Wilma, and this bitch was still unhappy! And what was with the track suit? The first nice day and the best thing she could come up with was to go outside and get all hot and sweaty? Robin reminded herself to take Morgan to the pool if the weather continued.
"Is it? I must have forgotten, which is strange because I usually remember everyone important. Guess you don't rank very high on my list of priorities." Robin practically spit out.
"If you're looking for Patrick, he isn't home." Greta clued her in with a soft huff as if this conversation was taking time away from her flossing. Or using a damn breath mint...
"Would you like a piece of gum?" Having found the stick at the top of her purse, she shoved it in Greta's face.
"Did you hear what I said? Patrick isn't here. I'm sure if you just call his cell, you can get him." Greta explained coolly.
Do you have his number? Robin wanted to ask. Does he answer for you? Has he been turning to you? The thoughts seemed to just spring up out of nowhere. She trusted Patrick, so why did she always question him? She needed to talk to him.
"Do I look like I care if he's here or not?" Robin held up the key and let herself in. "As always Wilma--" The door closed with a resounding SMACK. It was soothing.
The apartment was covered in darkness despite the early hour. She flipped on a few lights and discovered that some of his camera equipment was missing. She hadn't expected to see dishes after her last discovery, but the sight of a clean sink made her feel a little hollow. She stopped in front of his bedroom door and started to go in, not caring if she had a right or not. The bed was shabby, but could be considered made. His dresser drawers were slightly open and she could see bits and pieces of clothing hanging over the edges. He was gone.
Looking at the two story brick home, one would never imagine the home owner was the all but announced next president of the multi-million dollar company. In her magazines, Elizabeth had seen the pictures of homes of other record company executives. They were massive monuments to stone, technology and ego. Maybe, she mused, had she seen Lucky's home, she would have never made the assumptions she did. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she pulled her car into the driveway and corrected herself. Well she probably would have, but it would have taken much less time for him to convince her she was wrong.
Robin had returned home quietly, avoiding all questions about Patrick. It didn't fool Elizabeth for a second. Either Patrick had not been home when Robin arrived, or he hadn't exactly let her into his studio. Both possibilities meant there was an equal possibility her own boyfriend was still in not the happiest of moods. When she received his text message to come over to his home, Elizabeth figured she could kill two mysteries with one stone. Whatever was going on with Patrick, she would bet her paycheck Lucky knew all about it.
Side stepping the assortment of toys in the front yard, Elizabeth knocked lightly on the front door. She couldn't contain her gasp of surprise when Lucky opened the door a few minutes later. His clothes were completely disheveled. For all the world it appeared he was holding his body upright only because it was required for him to be standing. He blinked his green eyes several times, as if he was having trouble focusing on her or even remembering he had asked her to come over.
"Baby, what happened?" Elizabeth closed the door behind her, moving immediately to usher
Lucky to some sort of seated position. Taking just a second to survey her unfamiliar landscape, she sighed in relief when she spotted a butter yellow sofa off to the left of the entryway. Elizabeth moved him in that direction, barely taking in the modern oak furniture and the even larger collection of toys that made walking in what she assumed was the living room a landmine. Satisfied he was actually seated and not about to pass out on her, she lowered herself unasked right next to him and took his hand. "Was it that bad with Patrick?"
"Patrick?" Lucky chuckled humorlessly. If only the fight with Patrick was his biggest worry at this point. How he longed for the carefree minutes when Patrick hiding his HIV tests was his biggest concern. At least that didn't give him instant replay movies playing every time he closed his eyes for a second. Did a person really need sleep, he wondered. Surely it was over-rated. "Patrick is the least of my issues right now."
If it wasn't Patrick...Elizabeth froze as another possibility crossed her mind. "How's Cameron?" she asked cautiously.
"Cameron? Cam's fine. He's across the street playing with Adam."
Elizabeth blew out a sigh of relief. The feeling of relief was quickly replaced by confusion. If it wasn't Cameron or Patrick, then what was driving this mood of Lucky's? "Then what is going on?"
"Nothing." If he didn't talk about it, then it hadn't happened.
"Nothing? You look like an extra from a horror movie or something. It's not nothing."
"Elizabeth it's nothing. Just drop it."
"You didn't ask me to come over here for nothing." She stood up, looking for a phone. "If you won't tell me, I'll just find out from someone else."
"What are you doing?" Lucky grabbed at her arm. He had obeyed some momentary impulse to have her near him because he thought she could help him understand this. It was only after he had sent his invitation that it dawned on him that would require explaining the whole situation. There was a prospect he was not looking forward to in the least.
"Looking for your phone. If you won't tell me, I'll make Patrick."
Lucky snorted. "Trust me, Patrick isn't telling you anything about this."
"Then I'll call Cruz." If this had something to do with Patrick, she doubted the Third Musketeer was in the dark.
His eyes darkened at the mere sound of his ex-friend's name. "No."
"No?"
"No." He struggled to keep his voice even. "I don't want you talking with him."
"He's your friend and I think it's pretty obvious he's involved in whatever the hell it is that is bugging you. If you are going to ask me over here and then not share anything with me, then I guess I'll have to find out another way."
"He's no longer my friend."
No longer his friend? Elizabeth's eyes widen with the implication. Oh God, Cruz had finally told him. She sat back down on the couch. "What happened?" She held her hand up over his mouth. "And don't try nothing with me. You wouldn't claim Cruz is no longer your friend over nothing. Give me enough credit for that."
"I went to see Patrick."
"And you fought."
Lucky shot her a quizzical glance. "How did you know that?"
"Because I've met you both?"
"Anyways we went to Cruz's to prove some stupid point and were surprised when we got there."
"How were you surprised?"
"I don't want to relive that particular moment thank you."
"That bad?"
"Worse. Know how I said I wanted to know who he was dating? I take it back. I didn't want to know that bad."
"What did you walk in on him or something?" Seeing the look of pure of revulsion that crossed
Lucky's face, Elizabeth immediately covered her mouth. Cruz didn't tell them. He was discovered. "Oh my God, you did."
"Went in all determined to prove Patrick wrong and now I'm trying to figure out exactly how to forget what all I saw."
"He didn't mean for you to find out this way. He was trying to figure out the best way to tell you both."
"Best time? What exactly is the best time to say 'Hey! Guess what? I've been dating your aunt for the better part of a year and lying about it!' Please tell me!" He looked over to see a look of pure shock and confusion at his outburst, but found it only on his own face. Elizabeth actually looked more uncomfortable than shocked. "You don't look too surprised by that."
"What?" Too late Elizabeth realized her mistake. She jumped to trying to explain Cruz's side too soon.
"I walked in on my aunt and my ex-friend and you don't seem shocked."
She could just pretend she hadn't said anything. It was a remote possibility he was far too angry right now to buy any semi-rational explanation she could come up with. She could deny she had even spoken. Outright lying to him was an option but she was horrible at that. It was probably the reason why out of the three Webber children, she was the one in the most trouble all the time. The truth was going to piss him off. No matter which way she turned, she was screwed.
Her ensuing silence was all the confirmation Lucky needed for the suspicion that had blossomed the second Elizabeth hadn't fallen over in shock. "You knew."
"I guessed."
"You guessed? How the hell would you guess that?"
Elizabeth looked down at her feet. "At Lucas and Dillon's party, Cruz and I were talking in the kitchen and I figured it out."
"You've known since then?"
"He swore to me he was going to tell you."
"You couldn't have warned me?"
"Like you were going to believe me on this one?"
Lucky stood up and began pacing the length of the living room, avoiding potential falls from practice. "I go over there all set to prove Patrick wrong about you, find out that, and it turns out you knew the whole time. Just fucking great."
She had expected Lucky to be angry about this, but one phrase stuck out to her. "Prove Patrick wrong about what?"
"What? Don't change the subject."
"I didn't. You said you went over there to prove Patrick wrong about me. Obviously somehow I was involved in this and I think I have the right to know how." She narrowed her eyes. "What were you trying to prove wrong?"
"It's not the point."
Elizabeth shook her head and rose to her feet, crossing her arms. "It is the point when it appears you are blaming me for you finding out the way you did."
"I'm not blaming you, I'm blaming Patrick. It was his stupid idea in the first place."
"Stupid idea about what?"
"Just let it go already."
"No. Tell me. If there is some stupid idea that affects me, I think I need to know it."
"He saw the two of you alright? He saw you and Cruz at the party and decided you were Cruz's secret girlfriend."
Elizabeth took in a breath. "And you went over to Cruz's to what? Confront him?"
"Yes."
"I assume the fact that my car wasn't in the driveway didn't stop you. Or my grandmother's car which you've seen me drive before?"
"It would have but I couldn't get you on the phone and then when we saw that boot on the stairs..."
"You believed him." Elizabeth's voice fell into a hurt whisper. "You believed him."
"No. No I didn't."
"Yes you did. You considered it. You believed him."
Lucky reached out to touch her arm. Now that he actually said what all they had seen it was ridiculous, but he hadn't been thinking straight at the time. Or any time since then to be honest. "Elizabeth…" He started.
Elizabeth jerked her arm out his reach. "I gotta go." She ran for the door, dabbing her eyes to keep the tears from falling before she got into her car. Lucky could do nothing but watch her run past him, slamming the door behind her as she went.