Chapter 114
Why, O Lord, are they multiplied that afflict me?
Many are they who rise up against me *
Sunday,
"I don't know about this," Nikolas intoned with a frustrated voice as he followed Lucky through the parking lot. He stopped for a second to turn and lock his Mercedes with the remote electronic key. He cut a dashing figure with his black suit that he'd worn to the wedding the day before, clean white shirt and new power tie. His black hair gleamed with a fresh application of expensive gel and an expert blow dry job.
Lucky was equally dashing in a different
way. He looked very coordinated with his blue, double-breasted wedding suit and highly
polished shoes. Nikolas had provided him with inspiration in the hair department, and he'd
spent extra competitive time on it this morning to the result of a casually combed and
sprayed look. Several heads turned when the two brothers walked into the building as they
were close representations of GQ meets
"I go to church every Sunday. Tony usually takes me, but he's not here - you are, so you have the honor," Lucky explained as he headed toward a pew in the middle of the church and scooted to the center. Nikolas muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he frowned lightly and sat down. He looked all around him with a puzzled expression on his face.
"Stefan attended the Greek Orthodox church for weddings, funerals and the occasional Easter," Nikolas said in a low voice. "The only reason he brought me was for the Prince to pick up the culture, which I'd need later. He wasn't a religious man."
"Obviously," Lucky replied.
Nikolas scoffed. "And what would you call Luke?"
"An atheist," Lucky answered. "That's his problem, not mine. And don't ask about mom. She did whatever he wanted. We never attended when I was growing up."
"Why do you insist on going now?" Nikolas asked.
Lucky shrugged. "Tony and I started attending here when I was living with him, but I go because I want to. It helps me to get through the week. It reminds me that my problems aren't in my hands only. God helps me. Whether it’s the scripture that's read, a hymn that's sung or a good sermon, I can pick up something meaningful to take with me. And, I remember that I'm supposed to help others, not just myself."
"What I remember most about church is that it was dark and stinky with lots of incense and candles. The priests were kind of scary with their long, black robes and fuzzy beards."
"You're still traumatized by those mean nuns in school," Lucky snickered as he elbowed Nikolas.
Nikolas shook his head. "They did make an impression on me. Probably because I was so young."
"They're not mean like that anymore,
especially in the
"Now this is true," Nikolas observed. "I'll have to remember that. It's light and bright in here, though. I like it."
Lucky pointed to a stained glass window. "See that?" Nikolas nodded. "When my hair was real long, a little girl kept pointing at me and calling me Jesus. Tony cracked up so bad, the whole pew shook."
"It will be her good memory of church when she grows older," Nikolas observed.
"Maybe."
Nikolas looked through the church bulletin. "I can't follow this, Lucky. How do I know what to do when and which book to use?" Nikolas picked up two books and flipped through them. "Just follow me," Lucky instructed. "We'll share the same book." Nikolas relaxed upon hearing that and sat back with a sigh.
"It's only an hour, Nikolas," Lucky said with amusement. "You'll survive."
"Yeah," Nikolas replied in an unconvinced voice.
"We're going to the buffet afterwards," Lucky encouraged, hoping to entice his brother with that experience. "Tony left us some money to pay for it."
"And this is a good thing?" Nikolas asked. "I've never been to a buffet. What if I don't like it?"
"Whiner," Lucky laughed. "You'll find something you like. I know you like Italian. There's plenty of that there - lasagna and spaghetti."
"Okay," Nikolas conceded.
Both brothers stopped talking when the organ music began playing and soon Nikolas was rising, kneeling and singing with the best of them. Several old ladies turned around and smiled at the beautiful sound of the two brothers' baritone and tenor voices blending harmoniously.
"He's good," Lucky whispered at Nikolas when the minister began his sermon, and the two young men sat up straighter to pay attention.
Soon, both Nikolas and Lucky began shifting and fidgeting in their seats, feeling uncomfortable and gloomy. The sermon was about the importance of forgiveness. Lucky's eyes flickered sadly, and he glanced down at his feet. Nikolas didn't like thinking about such topics as forgiving his parents, uncle and Luke. He preferred to put it out of his mind and ignore the situation, hoping the bad feelings would fade away eventually. He was making his own life now, so why should he have to worry about the past? His slender, tan fingers leafed through the church bulletin as a distraction to take his mind off of the minister's words. What did he need with religion anyway? He was rich and successful, in charge of his own life.
Lucky felt uneasy when his thoughts drifted to his parents. It had been natural to forgive Luke, his beloved father and a man he'd looked up to. It was a relief, actually, not to hate him anymore. All of the hate that he'd carried around and periodically spewed out was a heavy burden of its own, dragging him down into the dirt. Their relationship had suffered over the years and maybe it would never regain the same quality that it had before, but Lucky knew that they still loved and respected each other. He began kicking the toe of his shoe at the kneeler in front of him as his thoughts directed him to Laura. She never said she was sorry. She doesn't even try to contact me or ask about how I am or acknowledge that I'm alive. She abandoned me when I needed her. I thought I didn't have to forgive somebody if they don't apologize or ask for it. The color rose in his cheeks. I don't forgive her. I hate her. She doesn't deserve it.
Lucky sneaked a glance at his brother, and he noticed Nikolas' rigid posture and nervous hands as well as a cheek that twitched as he clenched his jaw. Lucky elbowed him lightly as be bent toward his brother. "Do you understand what he's talking about?" he asked. Nikolas shook his head wordlessly. Several minutes went by. Lucky felt the anger burn within him, and he sighed audibly as he slumped down and rested the back of his head against the pew. He tried to drown out the minister's words and ignore them so he'd stop feeling guilty. He already felt bad enough actively hating someone's guts while he sat in a worship service. Lucky bit down hard on his lower lip. I'm not supposed to think that way. But how am I supposed to feel about someone like her?
Nikolas sighed as well, and he leaned forward, rubbing the back of his neck with his fingers. And what if I don't forgive Stefan for what he did to Lucky? He's probably rotting in hell anyway, what does it matter? Luke killed my father and uncle. He took them away from me. Am I supposed to say okay, that's fine, it's no concern? Nikolas' eyes darted toward Lucky. But he's Lucky's father. Maybe it would be better to let it go for Lucky's sake. How am I supposed to do that?
Lucky and Nikolas finished with the last hymn and turned to leave after the blessing. When Lucky went to shake the minister's hand, he introduced Nikolas. "I remember your performance at the hospital," Pastor Walker smiled. Nikolas blushed with the memory and gave him a small smile. "Can I talk to you later about that sermon?" Lucky asked. His blue eyes looked intense. "There are some things I don't understand."
"Sure," the pastor replied. "Give me a call or just stop by. I'm usually at the church Monday through Thursday."
Lucky nodded and walked off with Nikolas. "I'm going to find out about all that forgiveness stuff," he said with determination. "Make him prove it."
"Let me know when you find the secrets of the universe," Nikolas kidded.
"I will," Lucky replied confidently.
~*~*~*~
"Not bad," Nikolas said as he dug into his second piece of lasagna and picked up a piece of garlic bread.
"Told you. There's a reason why this place is always packed," Lucky explained. His plate was overflowing with a wide variety of pastas, bread, salads and fruits.
Nikolas gestured toward Lucky's plate. "You eat a ton of food, but never seem to gain weight. Is it my imagination or are you taller than you were a few months ago?"
Lucky wore a smile of pride as he nodded with a mouth full of food. "I'm constantly hungry these days. Maybe because I'm out of the hospital. Aunt Bobbie said she thought I'd grown about two inches recently."
"Fine, but I'm growing sideways," Nikolas laughed as he made a motion toward his waistline. "I'm going on an austerity kick after today."
Lucky's eyebrows rose. "The day is young!"
~*~*~*~
2:
Frisco Jones strolled into the men's restroom near the airport gate where his private WSB plane was almost ready to take off. Two minutes after he carried his flight bag into a stall, a blond man exited the stall beside him dressed in identical clothing and with an identical bag. When Frisco heard the door close, he rapidly changed into his disguise outfit, placing a cap over his hair and dark sunglasses over his eyes. Where he'd been dressed somewhat formally before, he was now dressed down in tattered jeans and teeshirt, almost like a dockworker in appearance, complete with muddy work boots.
Frisco had no intention of leaving Port Charles without Cesar Faison in custody. He'd figured that Faison would strike by now, but it had become obvious the man wouldn't move until Frisco was gone from the area. Frisco had dined with his daughters that morning over breakfast, but he swept those thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the mission at hand. He couldn't afford any distractions with a man as unruly as the elusive, diabolical Faison in question. Frisco waited two more minutes and exited the restroom, moving in the opposite direction as his decoy. He was headed for the café where he'd purchase a cup of coffee and have a conversation with his watch.
~*~*~*~
Twenty
minutes later...
Frisco took another sip of his coffee as
his eyes continually surveyed his surroundings behind his sunglasses. He feigned a cough
to bring his forearm near his arm. "What's his position?" he asked tersely.
Frisco listened carefully to the receiver hidden in his ear. He shifted in his
uncomfortable wire café chair and looked dully at the tropical plants surrounding the
dining area as if desperately trying to pretend they were in
Frisco immediately scooted up higher in his chair when the first words came to his hearing. "What?" he gritted out.
<<<There's
a man with long, gray hair with the rest of the household, but we finally got a look at
his face. Before, he was always turned away or moving. He's not Faison.>>>
"Gather all of your surveillance tapes immediately and determine when the exchange was made. Check for body language. I want a report within half an hour."
Frisco took another sip of his coffee and
looked grim as he considered his next move. Where
are you Faison?
~*~*~*~
Nikolas felt Lucky tense beside him. His younger brother held his head in his left hand and shook it several times as he mumbled. Nikolas darted his eyes over to the left and wondered for the fifth or sixth time that afternoon if it were a good idea for them to attend this movie. Lucky had wanted to be out of the house that afternoon and suggested seeing a movie that had been advertised on television. It was supposed to be an uplifting tale of a World War II veteran who had lost touch with his fiancé during the war, but then met up with her to recapture the romance when they were in their seventies. Nikolas wanted to shy away from any entertainment involving possible war or violence, but there were only chick flicks or kiddie cartoons available as alternatives, and Lucky liked the actor in this, so Nikolas had soon worn down and hoped for the best.
What Lucky hadn't considered were the numerous flashback scenes to when the man was a young soldier. He grew increasingly uneasy when those scenes started to regularly spring up about a fourth of the way through the movie with shocking realism and bloody gore.
Lucky slumped down in his seat and kicked the chair in front of him until a man turned and glared at him. I can't take anymore of this! What am I going to do? I have to stay here. I don’t want Nikolas to think that I'm a wimp. Finally, Lucky's body decided for his mind and jumped straight up out of the chair, turning toward the aisle. The two brothers were seated in the center of the theatre, so exit was no easy matter in this popular matinee movie. Lucky banged and shoved forward, not mindful of the people he jostled in his hurry to exit the movie.
Nikolas' mouth hung open in shock as he glanced between the screen and his brother's retreating back. "Lucky," he whispered loudly as he stood up and attempted to pass to the aisle. He muttered "excuse us" repeatedly as he passed by people, hoping they weren't too angry at Lucky's behavior. When he arrived in the hallway, Lucky was nowhere in sight, and fear caught in Nikolas' stomach. Where is he? Where is he? I'm responsible for him. Nikolas walked quickly to the men's room and flung open the door. He peered inside the room and even squatted down to look under the two stalls. No Lucky. He stood with his hands on his hips and a worried look plastered on his face. Another idea came to mind, and he left the restroom, striding down the hallway with purposeful intent. He banged open the clearly lit Exit door and found his brother.
Lucky was standing in a patch of weeds that had sprung up from a line of cracked asphalt that paved the outside area of the movie theatre. A large, brown dumpster full of trash and the occasional scavenging seagull stood about ten feet away. He already had a cigarette in his mouth and was fumbling with his lighter, which was running low on fuel and barely flickering. "Dammit!" he yelled and threw it hard at the dumpster. He stood shaking with an unlit cigarette in his mouth when he turned slightly and noticed his brother's presence. Lucky's eyes looked sad when he realized what he'd done to Nikolas.
"Oh! I'm sorry for bailing on you. I couldn't stay in there any longer."
Nikolas' smile conveyed his acceptance of Lucky's apology. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a matchbook. "Here," he offered. Lucky's fingers snatched the matches from Nikolas' hand, and he murmured, "Thanks, man." Lucky gratefully drew in on his cigarette and let out a rope of smoke from his lips. He ran his hand threw his hair repeatedly, forgetting that it had hairspray in it, which made the strands stick out from his head. After finishing his cigarette, he threw it to the ground and crushed the butt with his athletic shoe.
Lucky didn’t offer any explanation for his behavior, and Nikolas didn't ask as it was obvious to him that the subject matters of violence and imprisonment were too close to home for Lucky to qualify as entertainment. Lucky continued to avoid Nikolas' gaze and stared down at the ground with a tight look on his face.
"I was getting bored and hungry," Nikolas commented lightly. "Why don't we head over to Eli's a little early and eat some ribs and fries. Sound good to you?"
Lucky looked up gratefully. "Yeah," he agreed. "I could use some ribs."
Nikolas walked over to his brother and clapped him on the back, but let his arm linger supportively on Lucky's shoulder as they walked in the direction of the parking lot.
~*~*~*~
5:
Lucky leaned back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face and a man of the world ease in his body language. He pointed a stripped off rib at Nikolas and said seriously, "You need a girlfriend." When Nikolas shot him a disgusted look, he protested. "Hey. At least get back out there on the playing field. You've been sitting on the bench for too long. You're going to lose your charm if you don't watch it. Take it slow and easy. Get to know them first before you, well, before you Monique them."
Nikolas choked on his soft drink and splattered some onto his napkin as it went up his nose with the force of his laughter. "You brat. Look what you made me do."
"You did that perfectly well on your own, Nikolas. I give you seven points and a bonus point for originality." Lucky slowly clapped his hands together as he wore a lopsided grin and a bit of barbecue sauce splashed, unknowingly, against his cheek.
Nikolas blushed slightly and shook his head as he mumbled, "Monique-them, huh?" under his breath. Must get that goofy word game talent from Luke.
Lucky's eyes softened with concern for his brother. "What I meant is that you should take your time to learn about someone you find attractive, not just rush in and conquer. That's what's keeping you from having a closer relationship with a woman. You don't act like you're interested in the whole person. You use them, and if they put up with it, they're using you. I imagine it gets to be a drag after awhile."
"Yeah," Nikolas conceded in a small voice as he ran his hand over his face and neck. He folded his hands and played with his fingernails. "But how do you do that? I don't know how to talk to a girl for real. I manage situations and people. That's what I do."
"Learn a new skill," Lucky suggested. "There must be plenty of nice looking women at work, and there sure will be at school. If you see someone you're interested in, ask her a lot of questions about herself. Figure out if you actually like her or have things in common. That's important."
Nikolas gave Lucky a weak smile. "I'll think about it."
"Practice it," Lucky advised. "On brunettes."
Nikolas frowned at Lucky, but couldn't maintain it, and digressed into a grin of amusement.
The conversation dwindled, and they stared the wooden table with the remnants of their recent feast - cleaned off bones, leftover fries with splotches of ketchup and barbecue sauce on the plates, napkins and table. The regular dinner hour was approaching, and customers began entering in a steady stream. Lucky reached for another wet napkin and ran it over his face and hands. "We made a mess," he announced.
"Isn't that what Eli's is for? A home away from home?" Nikolas smirked. He ducked when Lucky threw a used napkin in his direction. "We need to get back home and clean up before Tony and Bobbie come back tomorrow," Nikolas added.
"Oh joy," Lucky intoned wearily. He noticed when Nikolas glanced at his watch and frowned. "Don't mention it," he said tersely. "I have another two hours or so before I absolutely have to take my medications." Lucky patted his expanded stomach. "Do you think I'll be able to empty this stomach anytime soon? This meal will be with me for days."
~*~*~*~
"Look!" Lucky called out with an awed voice as he pointed across the street. "The club is all boarded up and empty." Eli's wasn't too far from Luke's old club, and they were walking down the street on their way to Nikolas' car, which was parked a block away. Lucky quickly jumped off the curb and proceeded to dart across the street, but Nikolas grabbed his arm and pulled him away from a speeding car that nearly clipped him.
"Watch out!" Nikolas cautioned. "He almost hit you." Lucky's face fell, and he frowned as he took several steps backward. Nikolas didn't remember Lucky as being that impulsive before the kidnapping. He'd been more like a sleek cat, wily and highly aware of his surroundings. This Lucky's attention span was scattered and fragmented, and his common sense was lacking at times. Nikolas thought that it must be exhausting for Tony and Bobbie to follow up with Lucky and rein him in to keep him safe. "Let's go down to the light and then cross," Nikolas suggested sensibly. Lucky nodded wordlessly as he followed his brother. Lucky's heart was pounding after his near encounter with the car, and he instinctively pulled out his pack of cigarettes to smoke away his anxiety.
"How many is that today?" Nikolas asked as they waited at the red light.
"Eight," Lucky answered emotionlessly. "Only four more to go, and I'll meet my average daily requirement."
"How long have you been smoking?"
"Not counting before the pneumonia, it's been about two months," Lucky guessed.
"You definitely need to go on the patch," Nikolas said firmly.
"Some day. Not now," Lucky replied distractedly.
"Believe me, it only gets harder over time," Nikolas pointed out.
"Whatever," Lucky said,
effectively closing off that line of communication. After crossing the street, he nearly
ran up to the club and cupped his hand to peer inside, between two boards. "Man oh
man. The place is trashed. Most of the furniture is gone, but what's left is broken down
garbage." Lucky craned his neck to look at the creaky sign tacked over the front
door. "
"What?" Nikolas questioned, his black eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "You've lost me."
Lucky didn't answer right away, but
instead hopped up and down several times as he laughed. "He got caught.
"How do you know about all of this?"
Lucky's face changed to a guilty expression but shifted to mischief within a second or two. His blue eyes danced as he regarded his serious brother. "I stole his money," he whispered in confidence. "When I was living on the streets, I had a gun. I robbed the joint. Oh, you had to be there. It was better than sex - $1500 in small bills." Lucky's eyebrows rose in amusement at his brother's shocked reaction.
Lucky frowned and shrugged. "You had to be there."
"Not me," Nikolas protested.
"No, not you," Lucky replied vigorously. "You were living off of your trust fund. I had a garbage bag with two changes of clothes, a bottle of booze, and some Pepto Bismol. I was hungry, and I wanted to get high. I needed the money. So sue me."
Nikolas gulped. "Where did you get the gun?"
"I bought if from a store a couple of blocks from here," Lucky explained. "It was legal."
No, it was insane, Nikolas thought. "Why the gun?"
Lucky colored and shrugged as he looked away from his brother and ran his eyes warily over the broken down surroundings nearby. The area was deserted, but it didn't stop him from being overcome by a creepy feeling. He cleared his throat. "Protection," he choked out. "I'd get it back from Taggert, but Tony won't let me keep one in the house."
Thank God. "I’m ready to find the car," Nikolas said, changing the subject. "I don't want to wear you out or anything, but if you're up to it, I have one errand that I'd like to do before tomorrow morning." Nikolas' happy brown eyes met Lucky's quizzical blue ones. "Plus I have something I want to give to you. It'll come in handy next weekend."
"What?"
"Oh, I can be mysterious, too," Nikolas announced.
~*~*~*~
Lucky held a firm hand over his stomach. "Oh my. This hits close to home. Remember what happened last time we had Eli's and sailed on this launch?"
"A little overindulgence in the wine department," Nikolas answered. "I sold the collection. There's no more wine or alcohol at Wyndemere."
"Good," Lucky said strongly. He shook his head. "Man that hurt."
"You've been very good at avoiding alcohol this past year, haven't you?" Nikolas asked.
Lucky nodded. "After my buckets of blood episode, I learned my lesson. I can't go near a sip or that's it - I lose control. So I look the other way. That and I have a good AA sponsor who I call sometimes. I've had to call about four times since I've been home."
"I'm sorry."
"It's life," Lucky explained. "No need to be sorry. I’m sure my dad didn't have a fun time drying out in prison. Neither one of us should touch the stuff. Frankly, I'd rather have a soda pop and feel well than drink that garbage and bottom out. No thanks."
"But you should be commended for how hard you've tried." Nikolas added.
"Thanks."
"I've tried to clean up my life this past year, too," Nikolas mentioned.
Lucky stared hard at his brother. "I can tell. You're becoming your own man."
Nikolas leaned heavily against the launch and swept his eyes over the broad expanse of water. His eyes flickered with sadness and regret. "Sometimes it takes tragedies to encourage us to move on, to activate our will. It did in my case. Much of the interior of Wyndemere is gone now. I gave most of it away to museums, some to charity. What was important to me personally I kept. But the ghosts remain."
"Why didn't you move out?"
Nikolas shrugged. "Attached to the ghosts?" he questioned. "I can't sell it as a residence, so I was thinking of developing it into a business. But I need to move out and find my own place. I'll begin looking after school starts - maybe somewhere near the university."
"And me!" Lucky said triumphantly.
Nikolas smiled. "And you. And Lulu."
"Oh, a unique business sounds cool. There's so much you could do with Wyndemere. It could be a fancy resort or retreat with those grounds and the sports and horse facilities. Or maybe a business conference center with lodging. Plenty of potential there, Nikolas. I still can't believe you ramble around in that huge place all by yourself. Don't you get lonely?"
"Yes." Nikolas answered simply. "There are usually three or four servants about. However, they have the weekend off since I'm staying with you at the Victorian."
~*~*~*~
"Hello!" Lucky's voice echoed throughout the foyer and living room at Wyndemere. Even with no furnishings, the interior remained gloomy and oppressive feeling with its great expanse of age darkened oak floors and mouldings.
"Stay here for a sec," Nikolas said. "I'll bring you what I promised."
Lucky walked around the room speculatively, running his fingertips over empty bookcases and finally moving over to a window with its heavy velvet curtain drawn back. He stared outside at the immaculately kept grounds and reflected on how the original owners would have been delighted that their creation was being preserved so well. Still smells weird. Not a scrap of life in it compared to Tony and Bobbie's Victorian. No color or happiness. Lucky jumped at the sound of the loud bang behind him.
"What in the world?" he asked with a slow grin that creased into a broad smile. "Nikolas!"
"Take your pick," Nikolas stated happily. "I have two sets and never play. One of them is yours."
Lucky ran his hand appreciatively over the two golf bags that contained expensive golf clubs. "I can't decide. What do you think I need?"
Nikolas rested his hand on the black and white bag. "These are more for the beginner or intermediate player. Why don't you try them out? There's a putting green at the back of the property and some balls in the side pocket of this bag. I'm going to round up the business suit that I forgot to bring with me for Monday morning. I'll meet you out back in a few minutes." Nikolas turned, but stopped suddenly when he realized he was holding a book. "I thought you might like this. I saw it in the library. It's a collection of religious poems. Original edition."
Lucky's face softened with pleasure as he accepted the book. 'That's real thoughtful. Thanks, Nikolas. Thanks for thinking about me."
Nikolas smiled. "Let me find you a soda pop to take with you. There are a few in the kitchen. Those Eli's ribs make one thirsty after awhile, don't they?" Lucky nodded as he followed his brother into the kitchen. "Must be the hot sauce."
~*~*~*~
Bobbie leaned over Tony and kissed him soundly on the lips. "We've been in bed the entire day, Tony!" She raised an amused eyebrow at her husband. "We've ordered room service for breakfast, lunch and dinner."
"I liked the appetizers and desserts best," Tony grinned wickedly as he rolled over to laugh at his new bride. "My back is broken," he whined. "You owe me a massage, woman."
Bobbie rubbed her hip gingerly. "You're not the only athlete, Jones. I received a workout, too."
"I've never felt more rested or contented in my life."
"Me, too," Bobbie whispered as she got back into bed and pulled the covers over both of them. She ran her hand over Tony's hair and smiled. "I'm feeling a tad stir crazy in the hotel suite. Why don't we take a nice walk before dark? A tour of downtown Port Charles?"
Tony smiled. "Sounds good. Oh! I spoke to Nikolas while you were in the shower. He said Lucky is doing fine, and they're enjoying themselves." As Tony pulled on his pants, he paused and reached for his pager resting on the nightstand. Can't forget that.
~*~*~*~
Felicia set down a bowl of snacks before Mac, Lucas, and Georgie who were playing a board game and laughing as they took turns. Lucas made sure he didn't try to steal money since he was playing with the police commissioner. A few times he looked longingly at the bank but shook off his temptation as his eyes set on Mac.
Maxie was brushing Lulu's long pretty hair and preparing to French braid it. "We'll do yours first and then when they're done with their game, I'll teach you how to braid using Georgie's hair as practice."
Lulu nodded excitedly. "Yes," she agreed quickly with sparkling eyes.
Felicia smiled as she sat down on the couch. It was always a pleasure having Lucas and Lulu visit for a few days or over the weekend. Both children were very well mannered, and it was obvious that Bobbie had worked closely with them. Felicia felt some sadness when she regarded her eldest daughter. Maxie had been in a bad mood since her two visits with her father, but she refused to talk about it, preferring instead to make cryptic comments like, "I'm in a bad mood because you know how he is." Her daughter's anger toward her father concerned her, yet she understood. Maxie was a teenager, and she still needed her dad to be around, to guide her and help her toward womanhood. Mac was wonderful with both girls, but Felicia knew it wasn't the same. She remembered the conversations she'd had with Maxie years ago as she tucked her girl into bed - Maxie wanting to know if Frisco stayed away because of her operation and scars - if he didn't want to be near her anymore. Felicia's heart had ripped in two to hear her daughter wonder aloud at such questions, but what was the truth? The truth her little girl heard was that daddy had an important job, and that he thought about her every day and night. She was important to him, but the phone calls and letters grew more infrequent. Frisco often called after the girls were in bed, seemingly oblivious because he'd forgotten to set his alarm correctly in a different time zone or was called away on a mission for months at a time.
Georgie seemed less affected by the disappearance of her father. She was so young that bonding with another man like Mac came quickly and easily. Maxie was already skittish and suspicious, holding herself back and at a distance from all father figures.
Felicia held out her arms and called to Lulu. "Let me see your hair, pretty girl. Oh, Maxie. You did such a nice job with this braid. It looks lovely on you, Lulu."
"Thank you," Lulu breathed out
happily as she beamed at Maxie and turned to hug Felicia. Having an older girl like Maxie
pay attention to her and braid her hair was little girl heaven, and she felt very content.
Maxie looked over Lulu's head to smile at her mom.
~*~*~*~
Frisco was on edge and pacing beside his car when he received the phone call. "Where is he?!" he yelled angrily into the receiver of his cell phone. The late afternoon sun on a languorous summer day did nothing to alleviate Frisco's tension as he listened in the airport parking lot to a phone conversation he never thought he'd have. Frisco prided himself on managing the extremely thorough data collection in his missions, but the bottom was quickly dropping out of this one.
"Five hours. You estimate that Faison has been missing from the compound for five hours. Pack your bags. You're out of there. Say goodbye to your career." Frisco pressed the off button on his phone and shouted a string of swear words while he soundly kicked the tire on his car. "I cannot believe this," he said out loud. His hand was shaking with anger and trepidation as he dialed another series of numbers into his phone with a jabbing motion. Everything is going to be fine. Why does it feel like I'm in hell? It was time to check on Lucky Spencer's surveillance team and warn them once again of Faison's movements and underhanded tricks.
"Yeah, it's me. Faison is on the move, has been for the last five hours. You're to be on full alert status. Keep the kid close to you. No farther away than ten feet. That's an order. Faison had our surveillance team fooled. The man is up to no good."
A slow drop of sweat trickled down the side of Frisco's face as he listened to the reply on the other end of the line.
<<<Spencer
and Cassadine took off on a launch about twenty minutes ago to
"And that's what Faison's planned
on.
~*~*~*~
Lucky wheeled his golf bag a distance
from Wyndemere. The putting green was equidistant from the water and house, and Lucky
watched the waves as they bounced and sparkled in the late summer afternoon/early evening
breezes. This will make a real nice resort or
conference center.
There was a patio with white painted wrought iron garden furniture placed at an angle that would allow people to repose and watch the golfing or the water, whichever was appealing at the moment. Lucky walked over and placed his book on a chair, pulling the chair to the edge of the patio and sitting on the edge so he could re-tie a lose shoe string and flip back the top of his soda pop can. He drank deeply, then rose and placed it beside the book.
Long afternoon shadows were cast from Wyndemere's angular structure and overgrown shrubbery and plantings. Stefan had been meticulous in recreating the original gardens. Many of the Victorian styles when the gardens were originally planted had had a naturally wild feeling with blowsy flowers spilling out to surprise the person walking down a path. Lucky pulled out a putter and ran the club through his fingers, trying to get a feel for an appropriate grip. He smiled when he noticed that one particularly long shadow seemed to point to the hole in the ground. Nature seemed to be saying that she wanted him to make a hole in one and was providing a handy guide for that purpose.
Lucky searched through the side pockets of his golf bag and produced several white, dimpled golf balls. He placed one in front of him and bent over to take aim with his putter. He swung lightly and connected with the ball, making it tumble directly toward his goal. "Cool," he whispered out loud. As he walked up to the ball, it suddenly seemed to him like the shadows danced peculiarly. It only affected his peripheral vision, so he shook his head and dismissed the subtle warning. I wonder what tips Edward will have for me. How am I going to survive several hours with that man? It took several more attempts for Lucky to successfully land his ball in the hole, but he was content. He retrieved the ball and sought out his soda pop before his next round of putting. Wonder what's keeping Nikolas?
As Lucky's hand grasped the cold drink, a
long shadow running from the grass and bushes and trailing six feet up the side of the
actual Wyndemere house parted slightly and briefly revealed the pale face of a very still,
very intense looking man with dark, cunning, narrowed eyes. Lucky took a long swallow of
his drink and frowned. This can has more bubbles
than usual. He held a hand to his throat. Seems
to burn a little.
* From Psalms 3, one verse each in chapters
114-121