It was a simple gold band. It was lighter than the pen in Bobbie's hand. The hotel room had cost more than the ring. The plane fare had been more costly. Even the cab ride from the airport to the hotel…and yet, it was priceless. Its significance was phenomenal. This ring said more than a million pictures could. This ring said more than any music artist could express. Cruz couldn't stop staring at it.
He was afraid to take it off. What if he happened to walk past a small crack and lost it? What if it flew from his grip and got run over? That would lead to a lot of explanations and raised eyebrows, two things he was used to but had grown tired of.
There was no way to hide it now. Every stranger on the street could see it. They had seen it resting on his left hand when he had absently tapped away at the counter, waiting for his and Bobbie's coffee and bagels. They had seen it when he had hailed a cab since they were dependent on public transportation while they were in Vegas. They had seen it when he signed for room service last night. Half of Vegas knew they were married and the other half would surely find out if he could convince Bobbie to leave the room and go gambling with him downstairs.
They had found something in Las Vegas that Port Charles never allowed them: a moment's peace. No longer did they have to fight to be together or continue to justify it to everyone who had an opinion on the subject. When they went out in public now, no one gave them a funny look when they spotted Bobbie's growing tummy. No one asked him his age or hers. It was...almost paradise. He knew they would have to return eventually, but not today. Today he could simply be Bobbie's husband and she could be his wife.
He held out his hand and stared at the gold band, awestruck. The pillow slipped from behind his head and he fell into the headboard, cursing wildly as if he had been attacked by something more than an inanimate object. In his haste, he fell off the mattress taking the sheets and comforter with him. Bobbie barely glanced up from the letter she was writing, but he could tell she was amused.
"Hit your head?" She smiled over at her husband. Her husband. It still felt so strange and yet so right to say that about him.
"I'm fine." Cruz grumbled, his smile proving that he found it a little funny himself. "How about you lose the pen and come back to bed with me?" He suggested, climbing back into the bed.
Bobbie cocked her eyebrow in his direction. "Is this how it will be now? I no longer get the good pick up lines now that we are married?"
"From what I hear, sex is just a memory once the kids come. I figure we've got to get ahead of the curve." Cruz explained with a smug grin.
"I think being ahead of the curve is what caused this in the first place." She gestured down to her expanding stomach.
"Maybe, but I love that particular curve." Cruz told her, hopping off of the bed and pulling her into his arms.
She laughed as she settled her head into the crook of his shoulder. Agreeing to his plan to run off to Vegas and get married on Christmas Eve had been both the most impulsive and, she suspected, the smartest thing she had ever done. "You're hopeless."
"You're welcome to try and reform me." Cruz made a big gesture with his hands.
"I guess its a good thing I have a lifetime to accomplish that then." She teased him.
Cruz spun her around gently and they fell into an easy rhythm, dancing to the music only they seemed to hear. Sighing contentedly in his arms, Bobbie wished she could freeze time right here, right now. A quick glance at her watch still set to Port Charles time, revealed back home Dillon and Lucas would most likely be getting ready to sit down for dinner. As much as she wanted to stay here, wrapped in his arms like this, at some point they had to return back to reality. "When do we have to leave again?"
"Not for two glorious weeks." Cruz answered in a voice slightly above a whisper.
"Think they will forget all about us and just let us stay out here?"
"They might forget me but, you my dear are unforgettable." Cruz slurred, burying his face in her red hair.
"You're good."
"Yeah, I try. Before me, men were depending on good looks and comic books."
"So you're saying before you all women were drunk when they got pregnant then?"
"I'm saying none of them were smart enough to understand what true love really is." He clarified.
Bobbie laughed lightly and pulled him closer to her, reveling in the feel of his arms around her. She smiled up into his eyes and brushed his lips lightly with a kiss. "I knew there was something I forgot to do this morning."
"Where's Grandma Bobbie?" Lance asked first off as they sat down to assemble the table for dinner. He wasn't used to having a holiday without Grandma Bobbie. Grandma Tracy was somewhere south of France or in the South of France...Lance couldn't keep up with her. Daddy Dillon had tried to explain that she was a curious woman and, even at her age, couldn't be roped down to things like planned trips or blood pressure medicine. No, she was always leaping from one adventure to the next. She sent good presents, Lance recalled, glancing over at his new motorbike. Cameron was going to flip out when he saw it.
Dillon tried not to laugh as the expression of horror crossed Lucas's face. It was one thing to know a wedding could happen, another thing all together when your mother runs off with her just barely older than you baby daddy and elopes. If it hadn't happen to his family, he would have sworn it was a bad Lifetime movie. "Grandma Bobbie is spending Christmas with Cruz this year."
"Why?" Lance pressed on. He wasn't sure it was allowed to have a Christmas without Grandma Bobbie. What if Daddy Dillon and Daddy Lucas got it wrong? What if they didn't have ham? He was allergic to turkey. What if they had forgotten? What if they accidentally poisoned him?
Dillon glanced at Lucas and motioned toward their son with his hand. This was his family drama. He had to explain why Great Aunt Monica and Great Uncle Alan always fought over who's house it was. "She's your mother."
"She's your mother-in-law. And I thought you and Cruz had a connection or something like that." Lucas shot back, grinning.
"But she addressed the note to you."
"Grandma Bobbie and...Cruz are on holiday." Lucas replied unsteadily. "They'll be back in two weeks, just in time to see you return to school." School had been a touchy subject. Dillon had almost demanded they not send him back to "that" school after the way they treated Lance, but Lucas had managed to calm him down. Despite their best efforts, they hadn't been able to keep his punishment going for more than a few days after the fact. Lance had convinced them he would do it again no matter what limitations they set and they had backed off.
"Is he gonna be Grandpa Cruz now?" Lance went on, his eyes shooting from one parent to the other.
Dillon caught the look Lucas shot his way and shook his head. "Oh don't blame this one on me. I said nothing."
"I'm not a baby. I found the note first." Lance piped in. "So, is he? Is he?"
"Lance, stop." Lucas ordered, glancing down at his empty plate, having forgotten to get the food out of the kitchen.
"Tell me, tell me." Lance persisted.
Dillon took pity on his son and sighed. The kid was a Spencer, curious to the core and never knew when to stop. "Yes. But I think we may need to come up with another name for him."
"Like what?" Lance wondered, not missing the silence that was radiating off of Daddy Lance. He had never seen him look so terrified.
"Well that's a good question." Dillon paused to stroke his chin. He had only been calling Cruz "Daddy Cruz" because it was a good way to annoy Lucas from time to time. Now that Bobbie and Cruz had upped and married, he had to come up with something to call him. "Do you have any ideas?" he asked Lance.
"I like Super Cruz." Lance smiled.
Lucas mumbled something unintelligibly.
"That's a great idea!" Dillon enthused. "When they get back we'll try it out."
A strangled sound boomed out of Lucas' throat, but no words leapt from his mouth. Instead, he retreated to the kitchen, still mumbling.
"I think he likes it." Dillon whispered to Lance.
"You did not buy him a lock picking set!" Robin shrieked, taking the tool from Morgan, winning an indignant "hey" from her son.
"Don't you suppose you're making a big deal over nothing? He's a curious boy and what's wrong with him having this little toy?" Anna Devane-Scorpio reasoned, snatching the tiny tool from her daughter and returning it to her grandson.
Patrick watched from across the room, his face set in an amused pout. He hadn't been expecting the eldest Scorpio female to stop by Mac's, but he figured he shouldn't have been surprised. She didn't outright hate him any longer…no that would take effort. She was merely indifferent to him. It didn't even matter that he had gotten her a present. She had taken one look at it and asked Robin to pick out the next one if it was even a factor next year.
No one got Robin flustered like her mother and that was what kept him in this light mood. It was like watching Lucy and Ethel when they would trade suggestions back and forth: neither thought the other's life was quite what it could be. Anna had lost her campaign to a much shorter, much balder politician who was at least ten years older than she, but she was taking it in stride. Not once had she stopped to talk about it, simply focused on giving Robin mothering tips. From what Patrick remembered hearing about the woman, she had barely been a more constant fixture in her daughter's life than Robert, Robin's father. Patrick had yet to meet Robert, and tonight was no exception. Robin had listened half-heartedly as her father explained why he wouldn't be seeing her for the holidays, even though Patrick knew the blow off had hurt her.
"How about that this 'toy' gives the impression that it's okay to break into someone's house?" Robin answered heatedly.
"He wouldn't do that, now would you Luv?" Anna caught Morgan's stare. Instantly, the six-year-old shook his head innocently.
"Hot chocolate, hot tea, hot tamales!" Mac joked, pushing through the swinging kitchen door with a tray of treats in his arms.
"Alright!" Morgan squealed, making a leap for the hot chocolate.
"Morgan, darling, just a second." Anna lovingly scolded him, a split-second before Robin even had the chance.
Patrick noticed Robin's jaw set, but her expression remained neutral. Deciding to bite the bullet, he crossed the room and placed his hands on her hips. "Enjoying the festivities?" He teased, pressing a kiss to the left corner of her mouth.
"I really am." Robin whispered back. She had missed seeing her mother. Too many months had passed in the time since their last visit, and she definitely was thankful that their most current visit wasn't centered on something so terrible.
"Robin tells us you're moving in together." Mac casually changed the subject, setting the tray on the coffee table. "You're not staying at that tiny little loft, are you?"
Patrick chuckled. "No, and we're not moving into my studio either. We found a place we could agree on about a mile from here. It works because it's closer to work for her and closer to Morgan's school."
"Patrick's thought of everything." Robin told her uncle, her smile reaching her eyes.
"That's what I thought when Felicia and I moved in together for the first time, but it's going to get harder from here on out. All of those little annoying habits you both have…they're going to be more like the cause of every stupid fight you'll ever have." Mac cautioned them before bringing the hot chocolate to his lips.
"Oh, I think we've had our share of stupid fights." Robin countered, waving off his concern as she set Morgan's cup in front of him. "Give it a minute to cool."
"Spoken like the naïve, wouldn't you say, Anna?" Mac deduced, locking eyes with his sister-in-law.
"I would have to agree." She turned her attention to the young couple in front of her. "Today it's little things, tomorrow you're fighting over a couch."
"Why would we fight over a couch?" Patrick wanted to know, his tone incredulous.
"We won't have a chance to fight over something so innocuous since I'm the one picking it out." Robin rationalized with a quick shake of her head.
"There. You see. Nothing to worry about." Patrick assured them. "Maybe that's how it happened for the two of you, but we're different."
"Different?" Mac and Anna asked in unison.
"Yeah. We've done everything backwards in this relationship. We're set." Patrick told them.
"Would you listen to Mr. Confident?" Mac mocked, lifting his eyebrows. "You think what you want, Hotshot. You'll be begging me for advice in about a week after you're all moved in."
"Only if you stop answering the door with a cocked pistol, Sir." Patrick replied with a deliberate shake to his voice.
"It's not like he could aim it anyway." Alexis lightly teased from the top step of the stairs.
"There you are!" Robin rushed over to meet her soon-to-be new aunt. "I was thinking you snuck out the window."
"Only Luke Spencer can get away with that kind of nonsense. My big butt would never fit through those dollhouse windows upstairs."
"I would have come after you if you'd left me here alone." Robin mumbled, smiling. She noticed that Alexis was in Uncle Mac's red robe and her hair was messy as if she had just woken up. "Did the holiday start too early for you too?"
"What?" Alexis hadn't heard her or she just hadn't understood the question.
"The robe." Robin explained, gesturing toward the oversized garment.
"I got cold earlier and left my jacket at the office." Alexis clarified airily.
"Are you still? I think we could convince my cheapskate of an uncle to turn up the heat." Robin offered.
"No. I'm fine now. Merry Christmas." Her voice was low, but somehow everyone reacted to her greeting, four sets of eyes jumping to her slumped form.
"Merry Christmas, Alexis!" Morgan beamed, hurrying toward her and throwing his arms around her legs. "Did you bring me toys?" Alexis threw her head back and laughed, taking the little boy in her arms.
"Merry Christmas sweetheart. I might have hidden a few under that tree. Why don't you go and see." She directed him toward the magnificent tree, not a lonely branch in the bunch. Mac and Kristina had finished up the tree last night after she had fallen asleep on the couch. She woke up in bed so she assumed Mac had carried her upstairs.
"Are you hogging my fiancé?" Mac teased, pulling Alexis into his arms.
"We were having a discussion about how you're trying to get her sick by keeping the air conditioner going during the winter." Robin argued, smiling brightly at him.
"Is that right?" Mac met Alexis' stare and led her to the couch. "Let's sit down, huh?"
"I don't know how you do gifts, but the Spencer tradition is to hand them out until there aren't any presents under the tree." Patrick explained.
"Sounds good to me. Morgan, honey, would you come sit by me?" Robin patted the spot on the carpet nearest her, unable to ignore the protective hold Uncle Mac kept on Alexis' upper arms as if he was afraid she would collapse if he let her go.
"I suppose." Morgan gave in, ducking his head almost as if she had told him he had to go to war.
"I'll sit by you." Kristina called from the kitchen. She realized, not too long after moving into the Scorpio house, that anything and everything she wanted to know could be learned from simply hiding in the kitchen and waiting for her family to spill their guts.
"Thanks Kristina." Robin ran a hand through Kristina's thick brown hair. "Have you had a good Christmas so far?" She knew the fastest way to learn anything in this house would be to ask Kristina. The girl was as bad about keeping secrets as Lucky.
"Yeah. Santa brought me a lot of stuff. I was surprised since he gave me gifts last night at the Christmas party too." Kristina replied, knowing Robin was the weakest link to the chain of secrecy. Maybe Robin knew what was really going on with Mommy. It wasn't a cough. At least, not just a cough. She had found Mommy throwing up in the bathroom the last day of school before Christmas break.
"Santa's cool like that." Robin agreed, fingering the bow on her first present.
"Maxie must have been really good this year." Kristina assumed.
"Why do you say that?" Robin wondered.
"Santa was flirting with her. Doesn't he know he has a wife?" Her question was so straightforward, the adults had to laugh.
"Old age." Robin threw in, reminding herself to have a talk with her cousin before the day was out.