October 27, 1997
Celia Quartermaine power walked along the River Walk that spanned both sides of the Charles River adjacent to the Port Charles Hotel. It was approaching six thirty so a few of the North Bank shops were preparing to open and as she made her way across the stone laid pedestrian bridge that brought her back to the South Bank of the Port Charles River, she saw the glow of light from Café Decadence which opened at six AM. A cranberry orange muffin was certainly tempting but she had already made plans to meet her cousin John's wife, Abby, for breakfast at Uncommon Grounds.
Her cell phone rang as she walked up the walkway to the Port Charles Hotel. For a moment she froze worried that Hugh Lars was calling her with even worse news than the morning before but then she released a breath and connected the call. "This is Celia Quartermaine," she said.
"Celia, hi," Julia Barrett began brightly.
Celia relaxed. Many people would ask why Julia was calling her at 6:30 AM but Celia knew it was approaching noon in London and Julia would have presumed that she would be up preparing to depart Port Charles after the Board Meeting. "Good morning, Julia. It's convenient that you called because I won't be back in the office this afternoon after all," she said as she stepped inside the Port Charles Hotel Lobby and made her way to the elevators that went directly to the Penthouse Level.
"Is everything alright?" Julia asked.
Celia heard genuine concern in her voice as she stepped into the elevator. "Not really, and at this point, I'm not sure exactly when I will be back in Utah," she said.
"Of course, your mom needs to come first. Listen if you're juggling things I really can just reach out to Ned. I was going to call his secretary for potential meeting dates the second week in November anyway. Cord has a meeting in Toronto, so I think I'm going to go with him and let Cooper spend a few days with Brenda," Julia said.
Celia supposed she understood why Julia would presume that she was stuck in Port Charles due to something with her mother. Julia knew her mother was a long-term resident of Rose Lawn. Julia's own mother had completed suicide by slitting her wrists in a hotel bathtub on the day that her ex-husband Harlan Barrett married his second wife, Veronica Wilding.
"Actually, my schedule is likely a lot more open than Ned's will be for the near future," Celia said as she exited the elevator and tried to figure out what details either of her cousins or perhaps more fairly their wives would be comfortable with her sharing.
"Ok, umm, there really isn't a tactful way to ask this but can you at least just tell me that the crisis which just upended Ned's world has nothing to do with my sister," Julia said.
"Brenda is fine," Celia said as she opened the door to the suite she was sharing with her father.
Julia audibly released a breath. "Yes, I know it's pathetic that I rely on Ned to update me on Brenda's life," she said.
"Family relationships are just hard sometimes. Sometimes neutral perspectives can be helpful," Celia offered quickly stepping into her bedroom and closing the door.
"True, and I guess this is the point where I take some solace that my sister is alive, not currently dating a morally bankrupt individual, and accept that the rest of this is none of my business. Perhaps I can just offer some general prayers and you can extend my best wishes for everything to work out as well as possible," Julia said.
Celia got the impression Brenda was dating Jasper Jacks, so she was afraid the second part of her sister's assertion didn't hold very well but she supposed it wasn't really her place to point that out. "I can do that. I'm about to have breakfast with Abby and then I'm going to go borrow Ned's office at ELQ and see what juggling I need to do to get everything covered," she said.
"So, you're going to be in Port Charles more long term? You know that really might be for the best," Julia said.
Sometimes Celia did wonder about that. She had a feeling that Hugh Lars might actually be forced to stay in Port Charles at least in the short term as it seemed unlikely that Marla would be stable enough to fly home any time soon. So likely she would need to return to ELQ-West with her father and without Hugh Lars as a buffer. That was what she wasn't sure she could do.
"Right now, a lot of things are pretty uncertain," Celia said. She pulled a fresh pants suit out of the closet and laid it over the chair before she pulled undergarments, and trouser socks from the bureau.
"I'm sorry. I realize I have no idea what's going on. I was reading about your Shareholder's Meeting in the Wall Street Journal Europe. Your fiscal year numbers look great, but I grasp that you really are a family company so if one of you are struggling then those numbers probably feel pretty bittersweet," Julia said.
"You're right, and thank you for saying that," Celia said as she selected jewelry and laid it out on the dresser.
"Of course, and I like to think we're also friends so if there is something that I can do or if you want me to suggest to Cord, that Ned could use a friend now, I can do that," Julia offered.
Celia sensed that Hugh Lars needed a friend a lot more than Ned, but she also sensed that he would be less comfortable with Julia Barrett knowing about his wife's health struggles than Ned would. "That might be helpful. And hey if I'm still in Port Charles when you bring Cooper to visit Brenda, we can get dinner or something," she said.
"I'd like that," Julia said genuinely.
"Well, I'm supposed to meet Abby at Uncommon Grounds at 7:30 so I really need to get off the phone and get ready," Celia said.
"John and Abby are still in town?" Julia asked.
"They came in for the Shareholder's Meeting. John took the minivan and the kids home yesterday after brunch. Abby is meeting with the some of her former US Attorney Colleagues this morning and then taking the train back. On that note, I'm going to be late if I don't get going."
"Knowing you, you just won't be fifteen minutes early, but I respect that. Bye!"
"Bye!" Celia said. She disconnected the call, plugged her cell phone into the charging cable and then darted into her attached bathroom and shower.
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Chapparal County and Port Charles District Attorney, Helen Mitchell, was often called ambitious or driven. After all she had been valedictorian of her Georgetown law school class in 1992 and then been sworn in as DA just before her thirtieth birthday. No one would ever accuse her of letting moss grow under her feet. In contrast, her law school ex-boyfriend, Zachary Conway had accused her of taking advantage of him. That had been the end of their relationship, but Helen hadn't considered it a great loss. In her opinion, he was oversensitive, and didn't understand the importance of having one's porridge bowl right side up at the right time and cultivating connections.
Unfortunately, when he had shown up as an Assistant US Attorney for Northern New York in June 1996, she had needed to play nice. She was running for District Attorney after all. So, she had told him she wanted their offices to work well together. To a large extent she did want their offices to work well together. She just needed to ensure that didn't adversely impact her career. Their professional collaboration had led to a resurrection of their personal relationship, and she was doing her best to play nicely there as well. That didn't mean she wanted Zach back but rather she knew that useful information could and had come from their non-working lunches.
October 24, 1997
In The Olive Branch, a restaurant on the Port Charles Town Square, Port Charles/Chapparal County DA Helen Mitchell speared some feta cheese in her salad as her lunch companion explained that his mystery fiancée, Lorna, was unable to visit for the weekend because her children were sick. Helen was really doubting that the woman even existed. She wasn't sure if it was cute or maybe just pathetic that Zach Conway would invent a girlfriend just to save face.
"You could always go back home for the weekend yourself," she suggested.
"I thought about it. I have an early Monday morning meeting with Abby Donely Quartermaine so it's probably best to just let Lorna take a rain check. She wanted to see her cousin anyway," Zach said.
Helen's ears perked up at the mention of the woman currently heading the DOJ OC/Gang Division. She had been an Assistant US Attorney for the Northern NY District when Helen had first come to Port Charles in 1992. A year later she had transitioned into DOJ and left Port Charles. After the feds had usurped jurisdiction over US Attorney, Bradley Ward's murder in 1994 she had returned to prosecute her slain colleague's killer. That had been supposed to be Helen's case.
"Interesting, tell me more," Helen said.
"About Lorna's cousin? She and her husband…"
Helen wondered if he was being intentionally obtuse. She cut him off midsentence. "No! I was just wondering what case she was planning on poaching this time," she said.
"This isn't about any active case. Although since she took over as Division Chief in January, she has worked to have more connection, collaboration, and cooperation between DOJ and the US Attorney Offices. I guess her husband has some event over the weekend, so she is going to stay an extra day for the meeting with us and then take the train home," Zach said.
Zach had continued to praise the DOJ Division Chair, Helen had let him and even nodded when appropriate. She might still be a bit salty about her case being poached but she knew better than to harp on the issue. She might have failed at befriending Abigail Donely Quartermaine during their initial Port Charles overlap, but she couldn't afford to have the woman as an enemy. The conversation ended up being more fortuitous than she had realized in the moment especially when she learned about Girolamo Palerno's arrest. Now she just needed to arrange to be at Uncommon Grounds when Mrs. Quartermaine came in for her Mocha Hazelnut fix.
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Abby Donely Quartermaine crossed Lilac Drive at the intersection with Lexington Avenue. She was sure her father-in-law thought it was insane that she wanted to walk to meet her husband's cousin at her favorite coffee shop. But seriously, it was less than half a mile in a neighborhood with wide and pristine sidewalks where the speed limit was twenty miles per hour. Of course, if she started to explain that then she might slip up and admit that during the period she had lived with them and tried the Damian Smith case often the distance to Uncommon Grounds hadn't been far enough.
When she pulled the door to the coffee shop open, she spotted owner, Phillip Lewis pouring beans into the grinder and gave a wave. Despite the shop's success, and his need to spend significant time focusing more on management tasks, Abby knew that Phillip believed in starting each week off "right" by working a morning open shift. She could respect that! She knew her father-in-law did.
"Abby, hi! What can I get you?" Phillip called.
"I'm meeting Celia for breakfast, but I'll gladly take five pounds of mocha hazelnut for the road!"
"Don't drink that all at once!" Phil joked.
"Of course not. I'll have to ration! This will need to last us through to the Holidays," Abby said.
"Thanksgiving or Christmas?" Phillip asked as he packed five bags of ground coffee into a bag.
"Unfortunately, I have several major trials coming up so I doubt we will be able to come back to Port Charles for Thanksgiving so likely Christmas," Abby said as she accepted the bag and reached into her briefcase for her wallet. As she passed her credit card across to Phil, she heard the coffee shop door open and turned to see her husband's cousin Celia.
"Sorry, I'm a little late. It's been a bit of a morning," Celia said sheepishly.
"I can imagine, especially if you and your father started dividing up how you were going to pick up essential things for both Ned and Hugh Lars," Abby said as they made their way to a table.
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Dr. Julie Devlin took a deep breath as she stepped out of the physician work room on 5 East. It seemed like an eternity since she had just rounded on pediatric inpatients. In reality it had been slightly less than five days, so she really just needed to take a deep breath and get over herself.
"Good morning, Julie," Dr. Chris Ramsey said as he came out of a patient room.
But Julie sensed his discomfort. "You know, Chris, I'm really kind of counting on you to not treat me differently. Like I told you before, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Every day at PCGH alone at least a dozen post-call housestaff walk to the parking garage and go home without event. You had no reason to presume anything else would happen to me last Wednesday," she said.
"I just can't imagine what you went through at the hands of that deranged lunatic. How did he even get out of Fern Cliff in the first place?" Chris asked.
"I'm sure that NYS DOC and local law enforcement are looking into that now. But none of that is your fault. On that note, I understand we're rounding with Dr. English at nine sharp, and I still have five patients to see!" Julie said. Then she took another deep breath and started down the hall to her next patient in room 5532, Lark Madison.
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In her son and daughter in law's Magnolia Lane kitchen, Carolyn Belden poured milk over a generous bowl of cocoa krispies and handed them to her seven-year-old grandson, Jordan. "Here, sweetie, did you want to turn on the television in the family room and eat in there?" she offered.
"Really? Thanks, Grandma! You're the best!" Jordan said as he dashed into the adjacent room.
"I'm sorry, I guess Cindy doesn't let him watch television with meals," Carolyn said.
"No, not really, but it's fine. I'm sure that is the last thing she is thinking about right now," Dr. Kurt Belden informed his mother as he poured a cup of coffee.
Carolyn couldn't imagine what her daughter in law was thinking and that was hard. In the past she had always offered herself as a resource to Cindy. She had claimed there was nothing that she couldn't understand from being a doctor wife, to being a boy mom and everything in between. But truly she hadn't really understood the secondary infertility and she definitely didn't understand what it was like to deliver a stillborn baby. "I'm so sorry that she is going through this. I'm so sorry that you are going through this," she said.
"I know, Mom. Thank you for all of your help with Jordan this week," Kurt said.
"Of course, we always love having Jordan around," Carolyn said quickly. They did but the week with him had been bittersweet as she had reflected on his little brother, who she would never get a chance to spoil. But that seemed hardly fair to mention to her son who was preparing to bury his own son in a few hours, so she simply poured her own cup of coffee.
XXXXXXXX
When he stood in the Port Charles General Hospital Cardiac Critical Care Unit and tried to find his wife underneath all of the invasive monitoring and life support devices it was hard for Hugh Lars Quartermaine to find hope. But, somehow, for Marla's sake, and for Craig and Brynn, he knew he needed to try.
"Mr. Quartermaine, there is a call for you," the nurse, who had introduced herself earlier as Tara Boyer, said when she stepped into the room.
"Umm, thank you," Hugh Lars said awkwardly. He felt so out of his element.
"If you go out to the central desk, the unit clerk put the call on hold. I think it is your father-in-law," Tara said as she hung a new bag on the IV pump.
As he made his way to the central desk, it struck Hugh Lars as very ironic that Frederick Mears would finally reach out when his daughter was sedated on a ventilator. He often wondered if the distance in her relationship with her father, who she at least superficially idolized was why he could never do enough or be enough to make her truly happy. That was why he tried so hard to really know Craig and Brynn as individuals. He hoped they knew he would always be there.
"Hello," he said warily.
"Son, I should not have to find out from your sister via your mother that your wife, the mother of my grandbabies almost died Saturday night. What can your mother and I do? I assure you once I convince those yoo-hoos in the House to pass the budget I can be on the next plane," Hiram Quartermaine's voice boomed across the phone.
Hugh Lars shook his head. He had told Missy that he would explain everything to their dad when he had more information. Of course, he supposed he hadn't explicitly told her she couldn't mention anything to their mother, and it wasn't like their mother had ever kept anything from their father. Birthdays and Christmas were always a bit anticlimactic. "I was planning to call you once I knew more. Marla is more stabilized now and hopefully she will get better from here," he offered his father the most optimistic spin possible.
"What happened?" his father asked.
"We're not sure. Marla hadn't been feeling well for a few days. Monica said her electrolytes were all messed up and she thinks that caused the cardiac arrest. She will be doing a transesophageal echocardiogram tomorrow and from there she will decide if she needs a permanent pacemaker and defibrillator," Hugh Lars said.
"That does sound hopeful, I guess," his father agreed.
Hugh Lars had to believe it was. He couldn't face anything else.