Chapter 104
Saturday Morning
"You seem very happy today," Tony observed as he and Lucky walked through the mall to the men's clothing store.
Lucky was light on his feet and practically bounced down the walkway. "I'm excited about you and Aunt Bobbie getting remarried," Lucky noted. "It's been a long time coming. Plus, it feels good to be out doing something normal for a change."
Tony smiled. "Not much fun being cooped up in a hospital, is it?" Lucky had been very quiet the prior evening, and Tony was glad to see that he was coming out of his shell. He was looking forward to buying Lucky a nice suit, confident that his nephew would cut a dashing figure at the wedding.
"No," Lucky replied quickly. "Major boredom for sure. The exciting moments of my stay included watching MTV, getting beat up and running into a door. No thanks." Lucky suddenly craned his neck and stared at two teenaged girls dressed scantily and prancing down the other side of the mall. His intense eyes watched them walk by and looked hard to see if one of them had long, blond curls. His heart sank when he didn't recognize Cindy.
"Here we go," said Tony. The two men walked through the store, and Tony headed straight for the counter. He'd been concerned that Lucky might not react well to being measured for a suit, so he planned to have that done first to assess if Lucky could handle the situation. Besides, Lucky was so hyper and inattentive today that Tony figured a sales person could do most of the work and find his nephew a good suit. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the little old foreign man who emerged from behind the counter with a much used tape measure. The man was barely five feet tall and looked like Yoda, not a threatening figure by any means.
Lucky laughed as he stood in front of a three-way mirror. He kept trying to turn his head so that he could see what the back of his hair looked like. The old man measured his chest and recorded 40 on a card. His waist was 31 and his inseam was 32. It took the poor old man three tries to measure the inseam, as it was impossible for Lucky to stop wiggling one or the other of his legs for more than a few seconds. The old man handed Tony a card and pointed to a salesman that was ready and waiting for this new customer.
When Tony handed the card to the salesman, the tall, dark haired man nodded knowingly and said, "He'll need an athletic cut with these measurements - broad in the chest and narrow at the waist. They tend to run more expensive than other sizes." Tony mentally rolled his eyes. Salesmen were so typical, always steering you towards the most expensive merchandise. It's their job I suppose, he sighed to himself. "We're looking for a dark blue or gray suit for my nephew," he stated. "Something in a four season fabric."
"Single or double breasted?" the man asked. He looked Lucky up and down, which made Lucky feel conspicuous and uncomfortable. "He can pull off either look," the salesman stated.
Lucky shrugged. "Let's see both."
The man came back with three suits for Lucky to try on. "Come back out with each suit on, so I can see," Tony instructed. After five minutes, Lucky emerged wearing a double-breasted dark blue suit. Tony let out a low whistle. "Pretty sharp," he complimented. "Makes you look long and lean." Lucky stepped in front of the three-way mirror to get the full view. He smiled and nodded. "On to the other ones," he said. The second one was dark gray and single breasted, but had a look that was too stodgy for a nineteen year old. Lucky made a face, and Tony frowned and shook his head. "You look like a used car salesman in that one." Lucky laughed. "Oh, thanks!" The third one was a double-breasted gray suit that was a few shades too light with pinstripes. "Nah," said Tony. "Too flashy. You won't get the use out of that one. Try the first one on again." Lucky sighed as he stepped back into the fitting room. He hated trying on clothes.
Lucky walked out in the blue suit, and the salesman nodded. "That is a good look for you. Conservative but stylish." Lucky held out his arms and looked down at the suit. He noticed that the color looked good on him and made his eyes stand out. "Okay," he agreed. "This is nice. What do you think, Tony?"
Tony gave Lucky a thumbs up sign and smiled. "Mr. GQ, that's you. Now let's find you a shirt and tie to match."
After changing back into his jeans and teeshirt, Lucky walked over to the large rack of ties and twirled it around. He laughed loudly when he fingered a tie that had Tweety Bird sunning on a beach and Sylvester the Cat on a surfboard. "Let's find you a power tie," Tony said. "How's this one?" Tony held out a tie that was suffused with shades of blue, gray and silver. "Cool," Lucky nodded. "I've never owned a suit before. I haven't had to match ties and stuff."
Tony reflected that he'd never seen Luke in a suit except in court, so it made sense that Lucky had never dressed in one either. Tony wondered at all of the experiences Lucky might have missed out on. Maybe Lucky would enjoy opera, plays and the like. He'd never had the chance to sample the arts. Tony hoped that Lucky would explore his world more in the coming months. If he still dated Emily, Tony was sure Edward Quartermaine would be his chief mentor, like it or not.
~*~*~*~
Lucky sat at the kitchen table and sulked as Tony handed him four pills and a glass of milk. His palm reluctantly closed around the pills, and his face colored with his powerful emotions. "I don't want to be doped up when I'm on my date with Emily," he protested.
"You need your medications to prevent seizures and your other disorders from returning," Tony stated firmly. He handed Lucky several peanut butter cookies. "Eat these," he instructed. "You need food with those meds. I want to make sure you're set before you head out."
Lucky threw the pills into his mouth and chugged down the milk until it was gone. He munched on the cookies, but his eyes filled with tears. "The pills make me feel funny," he complained. He batted at his head several times with a cupped hand and slumped over in his chair. "I want to be normal," he said sadly as he laid his forehead on the table on top of his crossed arms.
Tony sat down at the table beside Lucky. He patted his nephew on the back and said softly, "You are normal. Your medications help you maintain a normal brain function. There's no stigma in that."
Lucky repetitively kicked at the leg of the kitchen table. He raised his head and looked away from Tony. "I want things to be like they used to be. No drugs, nobody telling me what to do or how to think or feel." He took in a deep, shuddering breath and shook his head angrily. "Dammit," he muttered under his breath. "Shit. I'm so mad."
As Tony watched his nephew struggle with his emotions, he recalled Kevin's discussion warning he and Bobbie that a teenager would soon move into their house. Tony had grown accustomed to spending an hour or two each day with his nephew, but a twenty-four hour a day commitment was another thing entirely. One day at a time, he thought. No one said that this would be easy.
~*~*~*~
"Lucas!" Lucky stood outside of the bathroom door and repeatedly knocked. "What are you doing in there? I need to get ready for my date. I have to shave. Lucas?"
The electrical whirring noise ceased behind the thick oak bathroom door. The door parted a crack, and two eyes peered out at Lucky.
"Lucas, I need in there for a minute," Lucky said firmly. He pushed on the opened door and stared at Lucas with his mouth open in surprise. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked irritably. Lucas was standing in the middle of the bathroom with only a pair of shorts on, Lucky's electric razor in his hand and a guilty look on his face.
"I wanted to shave, but I don't have any hair on my face, so I used it on my legs," Lucas said.
"What?!" yelled Lucky. "Give me that." Lucky yanked the razor out of Lucas' hands and frowned when he looked down at it and screwed off the top. "Oh God!" he exclaimed. "That's so gross. You've mucked up my razor with your crummy leg hair. Here. You clean it out. Dump it in the wastebasket and use a tissue to wipe it out. Oh yuck, Lucas. Don't ever touch my stuff again."
Lucas nodded solemnly and took the razor from Lucky's hand. He cleaned it out the best he could and handed it back to his angry cousin. "I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. "I just wanted to try it."
Lucky's face relaxed and his anger fled when he realized that Lucas was only trying to imitate him because he admired his older cousin. "It's all right, Lucas. I'm not mad. Just don't use my razor again. Okay? It's personal."
~*~*~*~
Lucky opened up the gray velvet jewelry box and fingered the Victorian stick pin that Nikolas had given him earlier that afternoon. It was silver with marcasites dotting its intricate, lacey surface, and an amethyst heart was firmly embedded in the center of the design. It complemented the necklace that Lucky had given Emily back in December. It had a different appearance, but the message was still the same. You have my heart, Lucky thought happily. I can't wait to see Emily - it'll be the first time we've seen each other outside of the hospital since before I hurt myself. Lucky also had a corsage to give to his girlfriend. We were never able to go to the prom. Maybe we can pretend like it's just as special. Lucky's mind kept switching back and forth from the excitement of going out with the girl that had his heart to the bad news that he needed to share with her. Finally, he decided to shove the bad thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrate on seeing Emily and enjoying her company.
Lucky had an 11:00 curfew. He couldn't believe it. Even when he was fourteen years old, his parents had never insisted on him being home at a certain time. He recalled the times he'd roamed around on the docks or spent time at Elizabeth's. A small thought took root in his mind. Maybe that wasn't for the best. Maybe his parents should have watched over him more closely. He lay back on his bed and held a hand over his face. Dad taught me well, he pondered. But that didn't prevent me from being kidnapped. The feelings of vulnerability rose in him again, and he marveled that worse things hadn't happened to him when he was living on the streets as a younger teenager and aimlessly wandering around at all times of day and night. He'd felt invincible then, unaware of what could happen to a boy alone in the world. He'd been luckier than hell but didn't recognize it as luck at the time. To him, he'd been a Spencer, a force to be reckoned with. He supposed that he still was in his own brain-damaged way. Lucky smirked when he thought of the wiry guy back at the hospital who'd experienced Spencer justice in the form of wild, vicious punches to his face and gut. I've still got it, he thought as he smiled and folded his hands behind his head.
~*~*~*~
Lucky paced the entire length of the house, wandering from room to room while he waited for Emily to arrive. He'd much rather be the one to show up at the door of his date's house since he was used to that form of agony. It seemed worse to be the one dependent on someone else to show up. Bobbie had asked Lucky to please sit down and join the family while they watched a movie, but she quickly gave up on him when he kept popping out of his seat or looking at his watch and sighing.
He wandered into the kitchen and drank a large glass of water. When he turned around, Lulu was behind him.
"You look so nice, Lucky," she said.
Lucky looked down at his very neatly creased blue dress pants and swatted at them with his hand while he smiled at his younger sister's compliment. He was wearing a neat, silky shirt with pintstripes running down the length of it, and his black leather shoes shone brightly. He nervously adjusted his matching tie, mentally reflecting on how he'd never get used to wearing one. "Thanks, Lulu," he replied with a sparkle in his eyes. "You notice nice clothing, don't you?"
Lulu nodded with a serious look on her face. "I want to be a fashion designer when I grow up. Aunt Bobbie is trying to teach me how to sew. It's hard though. I can only sew up and down, and sometimes the line gets crooked." She smiled broadly, and Lucky gave her a big smile in return. "You can be whatever you want to when you grow up," he said confidently. "You're smart."
Lulu startled Lucky when she said, "I don't remember you much from when we lived together last time. You were scared. I remember that."
Lucky gave his sister an apologetic smile. "I don't remember those times very well either," he admitted. "So we're even. Why don't we concentrate on making some new memories?"
"Okay," Lulu agreed brightly. "I want to know. Why do you like Emily so much?"
Lucky stroked his chin as his face took on a distant, contented look. "Ah, Emily," he said warmly. "She's beautiful, funny...she's smart, real smart...and she's so nice. I like to talk to her. We can talk about anything. And I like to smooch her," Lucky added for shock factor.
Lulu scrunched up her face. "Oh, gross," she intoned. "I hate it when they do that on TV or in the movies."
Lucky placed an arm around his baby sister as they walked out of the kitchen. "Maybe you'll change your mind someday," he said.
"Nope, no way," Lulu stated with innate female superiority. "That won't happen." She ran back to the movie, leaving her older brother in the foyer.
Lucky chuckled then bit down on his lower lip when he heard the doorbell ring. "I've got it," he called out to the adults in the other room. He nervously ran a hand over his hair and cleared his throat. He stepped forward to pull open the six paneled, heavy oak front door. "Hi," he said shyly. "Come on in."
"Hi Lucky," Emily said happily as she entered the threshold and stepped onto the wooden, parquet floor. Both Lucky and Emily said, "You look nice," at the same time, and they laughed. "Great minds think alike," she quipped.
"I have something for you," Lucky said as he turned to pick up the box on a Victorian marble top table in the foyer. "It's a corsage. I thought you might like one."
Emily's eyes sparkled with surprise when Lucky pulled out the beautiful wrist corsage that was filled with colorful flowers. She sighed and lowered her eyes as she watched Lucky slip it onto her slender wrist. "That's so sweet," she said softly as she blinked back a few tears. "Thank you." Emily rose up on her tiptoes to brush Lucky's lips in a soft kiss.
"You really do look beautiful," Lucky said. His eyes ran over her red silk sheath dress that played up the pretty color of her soft skin, and he reached out a hand to stroke her long, shiny, highlighted hair. "You've been hanging out at the pool, haven't you?" he asked. "You're tan."
Emily laughed lightly. "Sure have. It won't be long until we start at the university. I'm being a bum this summer. I've cut way back on my modeling jobs."
Lucky held Emily's hand and kissed her. He chuckled and ran a finger over his lips. "Red lipstick looks gorgeous on you," he teased. "I'm not so sure about me."
"That's the price of beauty," Emily answered. She rubbed her finger slowly over Lucky's lips. Lucky met her eyes and reached out for her hand as the innocent moment took a sensuous turn.
"Hello, Miss Emily," Tony's voice sounded out. The young couple stepped back from one another. "Hi Tony," Emily said.
Lucky blushed. "We should be going. Our reservations are at seven. We'll be back by 10:30 or 11:00," he added.
"Have a good time," Tony said warmly as he held the door for his nephew and Emily. Cute, cute - they're awfully cute together, he thought.
~*~*~*~
Lucky held the car door open for Emily even though she was in the driver's seat. She was driving one of Edward's Cadillacs since it was more comfortable and formal for a date than her own imported compact car. He slipped into the passenger's seat and closed the door, moving to immediately to pull Emily into a big kiss. Lucky and Emily wrapped their arms around each other, clinging as if they'd never see each other again. Their kiss deepened, and Lucky sank into the warm affection of his girlfriend, never wanting to come up for air again. For minutes they kissed, and when they separated, Lucky whispered, "I love you."
~*~*~*~
"I don't know how Grandfather drives these vehicles," Emily complained as she clumsily switched lanes and almost knicked the car next to her with the massive back end of the Cadillac. Lucky glanced fearfully out the window and flinched at the closeness of the vehicle behind them. Emily continued her rant. "It won't handle well, either, not like my compact."
"It is like driving a land barge or a whale on wheels," Lucky agreed. "It's comfortable, but you can't feel the road. Old people love them, but they'd be better off with small cars that maneuver better. How many times do you see just the top of some little old lady's head? There's no way that she can see beyond the dash board."
"Or steer," Emily added. "Oh, goodie, here's the restaurant. I haven't been to the Sleight of Hand before, but I've heard raves about it."
Lucky nodded. "I asked the most fun person I know what his favorite restaurant was, and this is it. They do magic tricks during your dinner and even come up to your table to do a personal one while you eat. The food is supposed to be wonderful, too." Lucky reflected back to the conversation that he'd had with Ian on the day he left the hospital.
"A little bird told me that you were leaving the hospital today. Are you planning on putting us out of business?" Lucky looked up from his packing and regarded Ian Thornhart standing in his doorway with massive crossed arms and a smirk on his face.
"Oh yeah, what little bird?" Lucky shot back.
"A bird named Tony Jones," Ian answered as he walked into the room and seated himself on a chair. "I ran into him yesterday, and I asked him how you were." Ian didn't mention that he'd been surprised and saddened that Lucky was still in the hospital. He'd figured that the kid had left weeks ago, and he now regretted not visiting Lucky during that time. "I have a favor to ask you," Ian related in a mischievous tone.
"Favor?" Lucky chuckled. "Yeah, right. You still owe me some candy bars from our last dart game."
"I paid up," Ian protested with a frown.
"Sweet tarts?" Lucky scoffed. "Those don't qualify as candy."
"Anyway, Mr. Hustler," Ian continued. "There's a hospital baseball charity tournament in August. For some odd reason, I've been put in charge of the event, and I wondered if you'd want to play on my team. Seeing as you're an expert in all things sports," he added knowingly with a raised eyebrow.
Lucky stopped shoving sweatsuits into his opened suitcase and turned to look at Ian. He leaned against the bed and said wistfully, "I used to play a lot of baseball when I was younger. It's one of my favorite sports. I'd need to practice a lot. I haven't played in a couple of years."
"Cool," Ian replied. "I've never played, so maybe you can give me some pointers. There will be three group practices before the event."
"I could do it if you give me a return favor," Lucky noted.
Ian scowled. "Am I being set up again?"
Lucky shook his head. "No. You seem like a guy who dates a lot, and I want a recommendation on a restaurant. I'm taking my girlfriend on a date tomorrow night. I need to make a reservation."
Ian gave Lucky a lopsided grin and stroked his chin. "You're right. I do enjoy the company of a nice lady..."
"Uh-huh," Lucky encouraged with an annoyed motion of his hand.
"There's a nice place not too far from the docks. It's on the water, looks like a ship or something. It's real dark inside with lots of private booths." Ian paused and laughed. "You want some privacy, don't you?"
"What do you think?" Lucky spat out. "We've been apart for months."
"Ah, young love," Ian sighed. "So romantic."
"And impatient," Lucky scolded as he folded his arms and tapped his foot on the floor. "What's the name of this restaurant?"
"It's called Sleight of Hand," Ian offered. "They perform magic tricks there. But it has a nice atmosphere if you want to make a little magic of your own."
~*~*~*~
"Reservations for two. The name is Spencer." Lucky stood in front of the maitre d' with a hand around Emily's waist. The couple was almost identical in height with Emily standing in high heels. They made a tall, lean, handsome couple. Lucky couldn't help noticing that Emily smelled delicious with some sort of delicate perfume hovering around her. All he wanted to do was bury his face in her hair, and kiss her endlessly, but instead politely followed Emily behind the maitre d' as they were directed to their table.
"This is so nice and cozy," Emily whispered excitedly as Lucky held her chair out for her. Lucky bent and kissed her on the cheek before taking his own seat across from Emily. The décor was lush and sensuously warm, like an intimate Moroccan café with hanging lights and hundreds of candles subtlely illuminating the dark interior. It seemed as if night had descended, and the bright stars were shining brightly over them. Their table was in an isolated corner far from the kitchen or the path that the waiters took delivering food and empty plates back and forth from the customers. There was a stage toward the front of the restaurant, but it would be easy to watch or ignore the performance, depending on their mood.
Lucky and Emily ordered sodas when the waiter came to their table and handed them their menus, which were lined with black leather, and featured a gloved hand pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Emily scanned the menu, and exclaimed, "There are so many choices. How can I decide? What are you having?"
"Steak," Lucky answered quickly. He hadn't eaten one of those in nearly three years. "Top Sirloin, medium well done," he laughed. "I sure know what I want."
"I think I'll have the orange roughy," Emily stated decisively. "It sounds wonderful with a fruit salsa on top of it. I need to watch my figure for my modeling jobs."
Lucky reached his hand to cover Emily's and said softly, "I volunteer to watch your figure."
Emily blushed and shook her head at Lucky's bold statement. "You're a trip," she laughed. "Where do you get those lines? You sound like your dad. He always had those great one liners handy."
Lucky looked confused. I was trying to be romantic, not like my dad, he thought worriedly. Unbeknownst to Lucky, most women, including Emily, found his father to be very charming.
"I really like my flowers," Emily said, smiling and changing the subject. She fingered their soft, dewy texture. "I love all kinds of flowers. These are so pretty."
Lucky's face flooded with gratitude, and he brightened up. "I wanted to express to you how grateful I am that you stood by me for all of these months," he said quietly. "Thank you, Emily." His bright blue eyes met her warm brown ones, and they held one another's gaze for a long moment. Lucky noticed how beautiful Emily truly was under the soft light of a dancing candle. The light tinkly sounds of romantic classical guitar played in the background. Lucky held Emily's hand and brushed his lips lightly on the top of it in a gentle kiss. Emily's eyes filled with tears, and she mouthed, "I love you," to Lucky. The waiter interrupted them with their drinks, and they leaned back in their chairs, ready with their orders.
When the waiter left, Emily tittered and fingered an umbrella in her drink. "They won't give us the alcohol, but provide us with the accessory anyway," she commented. "This is a neat place," she added as she turned left and right to better view the layout of the entire restaurant.
"What modeling jobs have you worked on so far this summer?" Lucky asked, curious as to what his girlfriend had done to fill her time.
"I'm concentrating on catalogues," she replied. "I have been since spring. It's all studio work, easy in and out. No shoots on location. I need that for when I start school in the fall. I won't be able to run off to the Bahamas to model swimsuits in February if I have finals."
"Do you enjoy the work?" Lucky asked curiously. "You're so smart. Don't you get bored?"
"Not really. It takes a degree of skill to project certain emotions or to entice a customer's imagination. It's a bit like acting," she stated. "It's different. I enjoy it."
Lucky nodded. "I need to start looking for a job. I'm not going back to work at the hospital."
"Don't they want you to come back?" Emily asked worriedly.
"Oh, they want me," Lucky stated, "but I don't want to work there. I'm tired of the hospital. I need a change of scenery."
"I guess I can understand that. Where do you want to work?"
Lucky shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't gotten that far in my thinking. I can't work until I finish my time at the day center. It starts this Monday. I'll be there for eight hours a day, and then I'll do volunteer work at the free-clinic every other Saturday. The other Saturday mornings are to be spent with your grandfather. He's going to teach me how to play golf. So, to answer your question, I'll start looking in a couple of weeks. Until then, I'm okay. I had some funds left over in my checking account after, um, I went to the hospital, and Tony sold my car for me when I wasn't able to drive anymore. So, I'm set."
Emily shook her head. "I'm sorry about Grandfather. I'd forgotten about all of those golf balls that he kept sending you. He has a one-track mind. But look at it his way, you're saving a bundle on lessons with a golf pro, and the greens fees are free."
"That's the way I choose to see it," Lucky agreed. "I can tune him out if he starts talking about Bill Gates."
"What is that?!" Emily exclaimed. "He started that after he met you. He still talks about Bill Gates at family dinners. He's insane."
Their conversation lapsed for several minutes after the food arrived, and they concentrated on eating instead of talking. Once, Emily's eyes sparkled when she glanced at Lucky. "I love it! The food is great. Thank you." Lucky smiled in return.
"Wow," Lucky exclaimed when began watching the stage. "Where did he place all of those coins? They must weigh a ton. I keep searching for clues how they make that stuff disappear, but I can't catch them."
"I have no idea," Emily sighed. "Oh my gosh," she gasped abruptly when a black tuxedoed man appeared at their table with a top hat in his right hand.
"Good evening," he intoned. "Care for a magic trick?"
Emily nodded excitedly. "Yes!"
The man reached down into his hat and produced a single pink carnation that his white-gloved hand offered Emily. "For the lady," he stated proudly.
"Oh, thanks," she said as she accepted the flower.
"I don't know, this hat feels very heavy, much heavier than I'm used to," the man said frowning. "I might need to unload a few things." Suddenly he pulled out a heavy dumbbell and plunked it onto the table.
Lucky laughed delightedly. "How'd you do that?"
The man pulled a serious face and said, "It's magic, young man."
Lucky waved a hand at him, and said, "Awwww."
"One more item," the man warned. The hat tipped and moved back and forth in his hand. "Whoops," he exclaimed. "I think we have a live one." His hand reached into the depths of the hat and pulled out the ubiquitous white rabbit.
Emily giggled and hopped up in her chair as she clapped her hands. "That's so cool," she said. 'Thank you!"
The man bowed and smiled. Lucky reached into his wallet and discretely placed a five-dollar bill near the man. "Totally cool," he agreed. The man bowed again, slipped the five into his pocket and went off to another table.
Lucky was enjoying himself so much that he almost forgot the planned highlight of the evening. He reached into his pocket and produced a jewelry box, laying it on the table and pushing it toward Emily with a shy smile on his face. "For you. My favorite girl," he said. "A token of my love and appreciation."
Emily's slender fingers opened up the jewelry box, and she said in a hushed voice, "Oh, Lucky. I don't know what to say. This is so beautiful. It's perfect. Is it Victorian?"
"Yes," Lucky nodded. His eyes shone as he smiled happily. Thanks, Nikolas.
"Will you please place it on me?" Emily asked. "Right here," she instructed, pointing to a place on her dress where her hair wouldn't cover up the pin.
Lucky rose from his chair and unfastened the bottom of the pin, leaning over Emily and working the fabric on her dress carefully so he wouldn't pull it. "There," he said. "How's that?" Before Emily could answer, Lucky leaned in further for a kiss since her lips were so close by. "It looks lovely on you," he stated as he sat back down in his seat.
Emily's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," she said appreciatively. "Thanks for everything - the lovely dinner, this pin. Thank you, Lucky."
~*~*~*~
Lucky and Emily held hands as they exited the restaurant. It was 8:45PM and nearly dark with the sun setting in a haze of pink and purple in the distance. "Let's go for a walk," he suggested.
"Where?"
"Along the docks," Lucky stated. "It'll be like old times. We used to walk here when we were kids, remember?"
"Yes, but you used to give me grape pixie sticks then," Emily reminded with a laugh.
"Do you want one now?" Lucky asked seriously.
"No, silly," Emily exclaimed as she swatted him lightly on the arm. "I'm all grown up now."
"I noticed," Lucky replied. The two of them walked until they stopped at a guardrail in front of the water. Emily breathed in deeply. "The air is fresh." She leaned her stomach against the rail and felt the warm breezes caressing her face. Lucky snuggled in behind her, holding himself against her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He finally got his wish, and breathed in her scent as he rested the side of his cheek against her hair. "You have pretty hair," he murmured. "Pretty everything, actually."
"I like the way you look, too," Emily said. "I always have. Even when we were kids."
Lucky stroked her hair and turned Emily around to face him. "I love you so much," he said. He swallowed, trying to work up his courage to say something that would inevitably ruin their wonderful reunion. In a move that spoke his desperation, he boldly took her lips in a kiss and cupped her face with a gentle hand. He moaned as he parted her lips and explored with a searching tongue. His arms pulled her closer to him, and their bodies met inch by warm inch. His kiss grew insistent and demanding, and they remained that way, intertwined on the docks in front of a sinking sun disappearing over the water's easy waves.
Eventually, Lucky broke the kiss and stepped back. He encircled both of Emily's hands in his own and looked at her with a scared expression on his face. "I need to tell you something," he said. "I'm not proud of it. It's wrong - what I did."
Emily's face softened as she searched Lucky's for clues to his distress. "It's okay. You can tell me," she encouraged.
Lucky released Emily's hands and ran his nervous fingers through his hair as his eyes filled with tears. One tear escaped and rolled down his sad cheek. "You don't know how bad I've felt about myself," he tried to explain. "I've been assaulted so many times. I didn't feel like a man, you know?" He looked down to the ground, unable to look at Emily with the shame that he felt welling up inside of him. "It was nearly my birthday. I was going to be nineteen years old but still a victim. That's how I felt. I didn't want to feel that way anymore. When I ran from the hospital, some things happened. I'd had a very bad seizure and wasn't thinking clearly. Everything was confused and sort of hazy. I wasn't behaving like I should. I stopped taking my medications. You know some of the story. But I needed a job, and so I started working at White Castle. I remembered that they were always looking to hire back in the days when I was homeless. I'd met someone at that restaurant when I was homeless. I saw her again when I returned. I did a foolish thing that hurt her back then, and I wanted to apologize to her, to explain."
Emily tensed up when Lucky began crying and talking about another girl. A sharp sense of dread attacked her gut, and she almost didn't want to hear what he had to say. Instead, she wrapped her arms protectively around her middle and waited for the bomb to figuratively explode.
Lucky was crying earnestly now, and his voice was roughened and stuffy sounding as the tears coursed down his cheeks. He paused to wipe at them angrily. He raised his eyes and looked directly at Emily. "I slept with her. We had sex. I was with her for several days while I was out on the streets. I wasn't thinking clearly. Otherwise, I would have realized what I was doing, who I was hurting by doing that. I'm so sorry, Emily. I really am. I've dreaded telling you this ever since it happened. I've hurt you. I know that. I'm sorry." Lucky wiped at his face with the back of his arm. His eyes sought Emily's for a reaction.
Emily was numb. She couldn't believe it. She heard the words, but they kept bouncing around her brain, refusing, out of self-defense, to take a firm hold. She didn't move or show a reaction.
Lucky became increasingly nervous when she said nothing. He stepped toward her, intending to take her hand, but she backed up abruptly and frowned. "Get away from me!" she screamed. Lucky's heart began pounding with adrenaline. "I can't believe you!" she yelled. "All this time - I've defended you to my parents, my friends. I ignored their warnings. Jason told me about you, what you did to Carly. You never told me, though. And now this. I turned down dates from a lot of neat guys, skipped dances, and stayed at home like a hermit. All because I loved you!" Emily fiercely pointed in Lucky's direction. "I gave up my life for you! And what did you offer me? Betrayal! Did you ever really care about me or was it some act? So now I'm the fool." She crossed her arms and fumed, anger conveniently filling in for the deep emotional pain that she couldn't accept right then.
Lucky tried to speak, to tell Emily that she wasn't a fool for loving him, but she cut him off. "Shut up!" she yelled. "I don't want to hear it. Stay away from me. Go fuck whoever you want to. You're not coming near me, ever again. Did I ever know you? Who are you?" Emily began sobbing and leaned heavily against the guardrail for support. "I thought you loved me," she wailed sadly.
"Emily," Lucky said emotionally as he stepped toward her and placed a hand on her back. "Stop it!" she yelled as she smacked his arm away from her. "Good bye, Lucky Spencer." Emily ran off the best she could with her high heels clicking on the wooden docks, leaving Lucky behind. He staggered over to a bench and lowered himself gingerly as his heart and mind continued to race. "Emily," he whispered.
He heard the sound of a car racing off, and he figured that it was Emily. She'd run off, and he'd never be able to talk to her again. Lucky raised his feet to the bench and huddled into himself. I knew this would happen, he thought. She hates me. I hate myself. He laid his head down on his knees and cried. After about ten minutes, he rose from the bench. I have to get home, he thought. He looked at his watch. It was 10:00PM. I only have an hour to get home. I'd better start walking. In his desperate emotional state, it never occurred to him to go back to the restaurant and use a phone to call for a ride. The Victorian house was at least two miles from the docks, and he headed in the direction of the neighborhood, walking quickly, the exercise giving him something to concentrate on other than his pain and distress.
~*~*~*~
Emily drove like a madwoman, flooring the Cadillac and propelling it haphazardly through the streets. She tried to stop crying so she could see to drive, but the tears kept threatening. When she was halfway home, a jarring thought entered her mind. I left Lucky alone on the docks. How is he going to get home? He's only been out of the hospital for a day. What if something bad happens to him?
Emily made a quick U-turn at her first opportunity and raced back to the docks. When she finally arrived, she parked her car and leaped out. She ran down to the docks, but no one was there. "Lucky!" she called out repeatedly. "Lucky are you here?" Fear stabbed her heart, and she ran back to the Sleight of Hand restaurant.
There was a public pay phone in the entryway to the restaurant, and she dialed information for Tony Jones' number. "Hurry, hurry," she whispered to herself. "Tony," she said with relief when she finally had a connection. "It's Emily Quartermaine. Look, something bad has happened. Lucky and I got into a big fight, and I left him on the docks. I came back to pick him up, but he's not there anymore. I shouldn't have ditched him like that. I'm sorry. But I wanted you to know that he's probably walking around somewhere." She listened to Tony for a minute, then said, "Okay. I'm sorry. I messed up big time. Thanks. Okay." Emily hung up the phone and wondered what she should do.
~*~*~*~
Tony approached Bobbie, who was seated in a chaise lounge in the sitting area of the master bedroom, reading a book. "I have to go out for a few minutes," he said wearily. He ran a hand behind his stiff neck. "We have our first crisis."
Bobbie laid down her book and looked concerned. "What's wrong?" she asked tensely.
"That phone call was from Emily. She and Lucky had a big fight. She ditched him, drove off in her car, and when she came to her senses and went back for him, he was gone. I'm going to drive around and see if I can find him. She thinks he might have headed for home."
~*~*~*~
Lucky sighed as he walked along the sidewalks in the back streets of Port Charles. He passed through numerous decades of housing on this trip. Although he'd driven through these streets a hundred times before, he never really noticed the houses until he had to walk by them. He walked through the 1940's and 1930's neighborhoods and was now approaching the 1920's houses with their sturdy four squares or tidy box frames with curving arches over the doorways. He was still crying off and on, and he wished fervently for a tissue as he sniffed loudly in his efforts at snot management. Every once in awhile, he muttered "I'm sorry," at no one else but the mature, draping trees that lined the sidewalks. Dogs barked at him from within houses or outside their doghouses as he progressed through the streets. He looked down at his watch. It was 10:45. He wasn't going to make it. He'd only been out of the hospital for a day and now he was going to miss his curfew. Fear snaked around in his guts. What would Tony and Bobbie do? Would they think he was too unreliable to live with them? He was lost in his thoughts and didn't notice the car that slowed down beside him.
He looked up when he heard his name. "Lucky," the voice said. "Lucky, stop."
Lucky paused and peered at the car, not sure who it was.
"Lucky, it's Tony. Climb on in."
Lucky hesitated, not sure why Tony was looking for him and uncertain of what would happen. "I don't know," he said evasively. "It's not eleven o'clock yet. I'm almost home."
"I thought I'd give you a ride so you don't have to walk for another mile. If you come with me, we'll have you home before eleven."
Lucky brightened at the thought of meeting his curfew and approached the car. He opened the passenger door and slid in. "Okay," he said. "Thanks."
"What happened between you and Emily?" Tony asked as he drove home.
Lucky curled up against the car door. "Don't want to talk about it. She hates me."
"Lucky, Emily called to tell me that she left you at the docks. Now, I know you had a fight, but she came back for you and was worried when you weren't there."
Lucky shook his head. He buried his face
in his arms and refused to speak.
.