Devolution TOC

Chapter 124

Blessed are those who are free from pride.

They will be given the earth.

"Come on in," Kevin called out. He stood up and hurriedly adjusted the pile of folders on his desk, which imitated the leaning tower of Pisa as it threatened to go tumbling down onto the floor.

Lucky opened the door to Kevin's office and wheeled himself in with a look of frustration. He bumped the metal footrest of his wheelchair into the doorframe and had to back up and try again to enter. "I hate this thing! They won't let me walk."

"You know hospitals," Kevin said.

"Yeah, they don't want to be sued if I fall and break something," Lucky grumbled.

"Something like that." Kevin leaned against his desk, crossed his arms and smiled at the young man who now felt well enough to complain. It was a refreshing change after the life and death drama of the past few days. "You'll be going home after we finish our session today. You can look forward to that."

"And how," Lucky sputtered. He coughed and held his hand to his chest. He shook his head. "It's going to take me awhile to get back to normal."

"I'm very pleased with your progress since you began taking the new antipsychotic," Kevin started. "How do you feel about it?"

Lucky stood up from the wheelchair, parked it by the door and took a seat in front of Kevin. "You won't tell," he said with a mischievous expression on his face. Lucky fiddled with the wooden arm on the chair, stroking it up and down as he thought. "Okay. I feel pretty normal. Kinda sleepy, but that's to be expected, right?" His face turned red. "It's not the last resort drug, is it?" Lucky's face took on an earnest expression as he studied Kevin.

"No," Kevin said. "You've tried three antipsychotic drugs, but this isn't the drug you're referring to."

Lucky's face flooded with relief. "Good. That's good. My friend, he said he was starting that drug and that he relapsed every year. But he also told me he's paranoid schizophrenic and that's worse?"

Kevin nodded. "It usually is. Your illness lies in between depression and true schizophrenia on the scale of severity. It is usually is more treatable than your friend's illness."

Lucky sat with his chin in his hand, and a gloomy look fell over him. "I didn't want to think I was a hopeless case because of all these relapses. I've certainly had more than one a year."

"That's not unusual," Kevin stated. "It takes time to find an effective drug regime. You had special circumstances, too. You've been dealing with a lot of trauma from the kidnapping and family problems. If you look at your life a year ago and today, I think you'll find that you've made great progress. I'm very pleased with how hard you've worked and how far you've come."

Lucky scratched his head and stared at the floor. "I'm not homeless, drinking a quart of booze a day and snorting heroin. And, I'm talking to my dad again. My brother and sister are back in town, and I live with my aunt and uncle. I guess that's decent."

Kevin smiled at Lucky's understatement. "You still have some problems with your mother," he said. "Want to talk about it?"

Lucky steeled himself in his chair. He looked to the side and stared at Kevin's conference table as he popped his leg up and down nervously. "I don't know," he said finally. He ran his hand over his face and shook his head. "I know what it's about - the dreams and voices - but I kind of don't want to talk about it. A man has his pride, you know."

"How so?" Kevin asked. It was never easy for Lucky to talk about his relationship with his mother. For every revelation, there'd be a swift retreat, and he'd clam up. It was the same pattern since he'd begun counseling Lucky.  The conversations never had the flow that they did when they discussed other topics.

Lucky stood up from his chair and turned his back to Kevin. Kevin watched closely as Lucky turned around and gestured at his red sweatsuit. "I look like an idiot in this," he complained. "Tony meant well in giving this to me, but I stick out too much in red. It doesn't seem masculine."

Kevin frowned as he tried to sift through the nuances of Lucky's phrases and intonations.  Was he working his way up to saying something about the subject matter?

"I'm a man, and I need to feel like a man," Lucky tried to explain. "Faison and his idiot guards couldn't take that away from me, but my mother sure did." Lucky's cheeks colored fiercely, and he walked over to the couch and plopped down on it as he folded his hands and looked to the floor, anywhere but at Kevin. He ran his hands through his hair and didn't continue talking.

After a minute of silence, Kevin asked, "What did she do?"

Lucky popped up from the couch and began pacing the length of Kevin's office as he shook his head, seemingly debating on whether or not to continue the conversation.

"Do I have to talk about this?" he questioned angrily. "Why can't it just stay the way it is. I don't want to talk about it, not with you or anyone else. I'm humiliated whenever I think about it, and why should I feel that way again?"

"Because you want to be free to live your life on your own terms, and if you keep inside whatever is bothering you, it won't go away. The dreams and voices prove that. You need to deal with it and move on."

"Deal?" Lucky laughed incredulously.

Kevin nodded. "Talking about it releases the secrecy and takes the responsibility from you."

"My whole fucking life has been a secret, a lie," Lucky yelled with flashing eyes. "Why should that change now? I should just forget about everything like I did before. It was easier that way."

"It may have seemed easier, but you paid for it in the long run," Kevin pointed out. "You developed a dissociative disorder that interfered with your ability to lead a healthy life. Hiding doesn't make the problem disappear."

"But it let me have a sense of pride because I didn't remember. I was a man; I was in charge of my life!"

"Were you?" Kevin questioned.

Lucky gave him a dirty look and crossed his arms at Kevin's challenge.

"Wasn't it pride that caused problems between you and your father? Why retreat to that? You saw how that came between him and the people he loved. What is it doing to you?"

"It's helping me to survive," Lucky said in a low, weary voice.

"Correction." Kevin stated. "It helped you to survive. You don't need it any longer. You can be the man you want without the pretense."

Lucky turned abruptly and rammed his fist into Kevin's bookcase, making a sharp hiss of pain and shaking his hand as he frowned. "Shit. That was stupid."

"Will you do that again after figuring out it didn't help?" Kevin asked.

Lucky stared at him and shook his head. "So you think it's the same thing. Hitting the bookcase and keeping things to myself?"

"What do you think?"

"Dammit, Dr. Freud. What is this? Analysis?" Lucky sputtered.

Kevin didn't take the bait and merely waited for Lucky to go back to the subject at hand.

"Stop looking at me!" Lucky commanded. "I hate people staring at me. Can't I have the least bit of privacy?"

Kevin complied by sifting through some file folders and directing his gaze away from Lucky.

Lucky sat back down on the couch and lightly rubbed his reddened knuckles. "She said some terrible things to me. Back then and recently." He cleared his throat. "When I was little, she caught me with a man, one of the men that she'd slept with and who then abused me. I guess she woke up, and he wasn't there beside her in the bed, so she went looking for him. She heard voices in my room and opened the door." Lucky's forehead broke out into a sweat, and he rubbed at it. "She cussed out the man. He jumped away from me. At the time, I didn't know what some of the words meant." He laughed bitterly. "I do now. When the man was gone out of the house, she came back to the room. She blamed me. She said it was my fault, and she started beating me, hitting me on the head and face primarily. I was hysterical. I mean, the guy was hurting me, and she was scaring me to death. I was screaming, and so was she. She kept shouting that I was a dirty boy, that it was my entire fault, and how did she ever give birth to such a horrible thing. She said she wished she could kick me out, too. That I should get out of her sight. She dragged me from the bed by the hair and threw me into the closet. Because my dad wasn't there, no one knew. She kept me in there for a long time, maybe a day. Of course, I made a mess, and she screamed at me about that when she threw me something to eat." Lucky held his head in his hands. "I dunno. It's not that much worse than I already knew. I just wasn't aware that she'd been the one who'd repeatedly locked me up. I thought it was the men."

Lucky sighed deeply. "Of course I was freaked out by the time my dad came home. That's ancient history." Lucky continued to hold his head down. "I was a kid, and she scared me, whatever. But she kind of did the same thing to me when I returned from the compound. No one knows this except my dad, and he isn't talking. I don't want this to leave the room," he warned.

"It won't," Kevin replied.

"Better not." Lucky took in a deep breath and exhaled. "The men that raped me at the compound - and let's remember that it was certainly more than one - left behind a reminder of their wonderful selves. They gave me VD - or at least one of them did. I was tested when my parents took me to the hospital. I had gonorrhea. I had to take a bunch of antibiotic pills in addition to the tiny amount of ineffective antipsychotic that I was prescribed. Thanks, Mercy Hospital." Lucky made a disgusted look. "I took the full course and was cured. Great. Hallelujah. But my mother just wouldn't let up. Apparently, she couldn't stand the fact that I'd been with men again, and she'd tell me it was all my fault, that if I'd been a real man instead of a pussy, I would have fought them off, but maybe I didn't want to. She'd slam down a glass of water in front of me and plunk down my pills. She'd say how ashamed she was to have a son with a venereal disease and what if I gave it to Lulu by sharing the bathroom. I mean, she said that right in front of my baby sister. Lulu didn't understand of course, but hell.  Sometimes she'd follow me through the house and hit me while she yelled, kind of like she did back when I was little. And the closet of course. Stupid me, I'd try to hide in one to get away, and she'd lock me in. Made me crazy." Lucky cleared his throat. "Or crazier than I already was when I returned."

Lucky took in several gulps of air as tears formed in his eyes. "But I was a damned pussy. She was right. I shouldn't have let some woman hit me like that and push me around. Why didn't I fight back? I was taller than her. Where's my pride? What kind of an idiot puts up with that? I cringe when I think about it. I can still hear her screaming and laughing at me. When's it ever going to end?"

"You're being harsh and judgmental with yourself," Kevin said. "Your mother took advantage of your debilitated state. You weren't in good condition physically or mentally when you returned from captivity. You needed rest and understanding, not further emotional and physical abuse. It's no reflection on your masculinity or other capabilities."

"I started yelling back at her when I got stronger," Lucky said with a satisfied nod. "Then, I moved out."

"You took action," Kevin pointed out. "You did what you could with the resources you had. I'd define that as success. You showed a lot of determination."

Lucky nodded. "Maybe. But, I still feel kind of weak on the masculinity scale. I'm living with my aunt and uncle; I don't have a job; I can't take care of myself without needing someone to watch over me; I keep flipping out. Someone else would have been able to handle this latest Faison episode. But me? Nah."

"Why is it so important for you to be perfect?" Kevin questioned.

Lucky still looked away from Kevin with shame. "Because," he sputtered out in a choked voice. "Then maybe someone would love me. I'd be worthy. But I'm not good enough to love, so that's why all this stuff happened."

Kevin's eyes softened with compassion at hearing Lucky's brutally honest exclamation. "Your aunt and uncle have showed you great love at your lowest point," Kevin stated. "They consider you worthy. Won't you allow yourself to be imperfect?"

"I don’t want to be perfect all the time!" Lucky protested. "But it's hard not to be mad at myself."

"Practice."

Lucky looked up and smiled. "That's what I tell my brother. Practice how to talk to women. I guess I could take my own advice. Practice how to be nice to myself."

"Pride can be awfully lonely," Kevin remarked. "You'll get along a lot better in the world if you're open and honest about your flaws and failures. It's an essential part of being human."

Oprah, Lucky thought peevishly. She strikes again. Kevin must be in the running for her new co-host.

~*~*~*~

Lucky sat on the edge of his bed while he waited for Tony to arrive to take him home. His session with Kevin had worn him out, and he'd barely had the energy to wheel himself back to his hospital room. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes - just to rest them, he told himself - but soon he was sound asleep and curled up on his side.

"Sorry I'm late!" Tony exclaimed in a loud, hurried voice. "I was going over some paperwork, and I lost track of time and..." Tony's voice trailed off when he saw that Lucky was sacked out. I hate to wake him up, but he's anxious to be released. Tony sat down in a chair and looked around the room while he caught his breath. He was still puffing from running from one General Hospital building to another on the large campus. He was adjusting his tie when his eyes caught the sight of brochures on the end of the bed.  Curious, he picked them up and leafed through them. They were community services bulletins for the most part - listings of structured activities available for the mentally ill including social clubs and day trips. Two brochures were for halfway houses specifically geared toward schizophrenic patients. Tony frowned as he read through them. Why does Lucky have this literature? He jumped in his chair when Lucky suddenly popped up on the bed with arms outstretched in a yawn.

Tony and Lucky stared at each other before Lucky broke out into a broad grin.

"You're here. I fell asleep for a couple of minutes. You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

Tony shook his head.

Lucky frowned at Tony's worried demeanor. "What's wrong?" He smoothed out his hair and coughed briefly with a grimace.

Tony waved the brochures. "I've only been here a few minutes, but I saw these and leafed through them. Lucky, I'm concerned. You're not happy living with us in the Victorian?"

Lucky's eyes shifted to Tony's hand, and he saw the halfway house brochures. He popped up from the bed and walked over to the window several feet away. He parted the blinds and squinted when he was assaulted by the hot, bright sun. He registered the numbers of people walking around outside - visitors in the small park area, employees locking their cars and entering the buildings, and a few illegal skateboarders who favored the smooth, concrete walks.

"Lucky?"

Lucky turned around. "Oh. Sorry." He shrugged. "I asked Kevin for those," he indicated with a pointing finger. "Those are what he gave me."

"But why did you want the information?"

Lucky shrugged as he shuffled his feet and stared hard at the floor. "I decided if I don't get better. I mean, if I keep having these episodes, I don't want to live at home." Lucky's voice lowered and shook as his emotions rose to the surface from deep within. "It's too hard on you and Aunt Bobbie, not to mention the kids. I'm not going to subject you to that behavior anymore. It's not fair to you. I need a backup place to live if I can't control myself. I don't want to be homeless again. That's all." Lucky turned his back to Tony so he wouldn't see the despair splashed across his face. He flinched when he felt Tony's strong hand on his shoulder.

"We want you to live with us," Tony said. "We'll take you in whatever package you have to offer. That's what family is all about. We care about you."

Lucky moved away from Tony. "I know," he said softly. "That's why I want to spare you the agony of having me flip out all the time."

"You never flipped out all the time," Tony said. "You had one or two bad moments, that's all. Don't exaggerate."

Lucky shrugged again. "I’m still not normal."

"Are any Spencers normal?" Tony sputtered as he rolled his eyes. "You all are mighty unique. I chose to marry a Spencer, remember? I can handle it. I want to handle it. You're my nephew. I won't throw in the towel if you have a few problems."

When Lucky turned around, Tony gave him a smile.

"I know," Lucky replied as he ran his hand roughly over his hair. "Thanks."

Just like Luke, Tony thought. He moves like him. Lucky piled up the few odds and ends he had to take with him, and he asked, "You didn't bring that little blue suitcase, did you? It keeps following me around."

Tony shook his head. "Only a plastic bag with a change of clothes in it. I know how you hate going out in public in a sweatsuit."

"Thanks," Lucky said as he pulled out a pair of jeans and a teeshirt. When Lucky headed for the bathroom to change, Tony started piling the hospital stuff into the bag. He hesitated when he picked up the brochures, but he placed them in the bag anyway.

~*~*~*~

Lucky leaned his face against the windshield in Tony's Jeep Cherokee and coughed long and hard.

"Still feeling bad?" Tony questioned. "We're on our way to the pharmacy to pick up your meds before we go home."

Lucky held his hand to his aching chest. "I'm getting better. It's just that I have a ways to go. I should probably take a nap this afternoon." He coughed again and closed his eyes at the feeling of relief that the cold glass against his cheek gave to him.

"One of the prescriptions is for a nicotine patch," Tony said. "Did you talk to Kevin about it?"

Lucky nodded. "Yeah. I'm dying for a cigarette, but he absolutely won't let me have any. He put his foot down - big time. I was surprised. Kevin isn't usually that adamant about things. I thought he was going to start yelling."

Tony chuckled at Lucky's phrasing. You were dying because of cigarettes, kiddo. "Kevin's right. It's serious. You've had two major cases of pneumonia within one year and nearly died both times. It's time to stop smoking for good. Don't even pick it up again. Let's go through your things when we go home to make sure we throw out all of your cigarettes and any paraphernalia associated with it."

"Yes, mother," Lucky replied sarcastically. He raised his head. "Hey, Tony?"

"Yep."

"Would you loan me a few bucks until we get home? I want to buy Aunt Bobbie and the kids a few presents."

"Sure," Tony replied. "Open the glove compartment. Your wallet is in there. If you need a few extra bucks, I can spot you."

~*~*~*~

Lucky wandered around the drugstore while Tony talked to the pharmacist. It was one of those establishments that sold a little bit of everything - from candy to cut flowers to boom boxes. Lucky selected a pretty plant with coral blooms for his aunt, a doll for Lulu that when folded fit into a tiny blue purse, and a handheld action game for Lucas. He wandered around until he found a red basket to hold his haul. He swung the basket back and forth as he wandered the aisles. When he reached the garden center of the store, he laughed hard. There was a huge can of Garden Fresh RAID staring him in the face. He snickered and shook his head at the memory of his littlest roommates back at Jake's. Damn I hate those things. Nasty bugs.

Lucky coughed hard and sat down carefully on an empty display shelf near the floor. He held his head to the side and supported it with his hand as he thought. How did I survive that time? God, you must have helped me, given me the strength to put one foot in front of the other. I don't remember having a real strong will to live back then. Too much had happened by that point. Lucky shivered as he remembered having pneumonia on the streets, sleeping over heated grates and trying to keep one step ahead of the bullies and perverts. Me and my can of RAID and bottle of Pepto Bismol. And the booze, can't forget that. Lucky wondered how he would be able to stay away from cigarettes, drugs and alcohol all at the same time. It seemed like a lot to watch out for, to guard against. What would he do if he ever went to college parties? Man, high school parties had been bad enough. He reflected on how booze and cigarette smoking had seemed to go hand in hand back in his days when he'd lived at Jakes. That's why he'd started smoking in the first place. It had always been around him, constantly.

Lucky rose creakily from the shelf and resumed shopping. I have a different life now, more to look forward to. I don't need all that junk to get in my way. I have a family and Emily. That's what I'll concentrate on. Lucky was feeling generous and thankful at the same moment, so he continued to fill his basket with small gifts for the people in his life, including Tony's favorite cologne and greeting cards for Nikolas and Frisco. 

"There you are!" Tony approached Lucky with a large bag full of pill bottles. "I paid the pharmacist, so we just have to ring you up before we leave."

Lucky held his hand protectively over the basket. "Hey. Don't look."

Tony's eyes twinkled. "Oh. It's a secret?" He placed a hand on Lucky's shoulder to guide him toward the cash register.  "Are all those goodies for me?"

"You wish!" Lucky retorted. "Can I borrow a twenty? I have some more cash at home. I'll pay you when we get there."

"No problem."

~*~*~*~

Lulu opened the solid, wooden door and peeked in. Her blue eyes sought out the figure that was lying on the bed, and she crept into the room on her tiptoes, trying not to wake him. She sat on the edge of Lucky's bed and stared at him. He looks happy when he's sleeping, she thought. Lulu reached out her hand and stroked Lucky's hair. His hair is soft like mine only not as dark. She bounced lightly on the bed and patted him on the cheek. "Lucky, Lucky, Lucky!" she sang out. She was full of mischief since she knew her shrill voice would wake her brother.

Lucky opened his eyes and groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face. He sat up and frowned at Lulu. "Why did you wake me up? I was having a nice nap."

"You've been in bed for two hours," Lulu pointed out. "Besides, Aunt Bobbie sent me to wake you up. It's time for dinner. The table is set and everything. I did it."

"Okay," Lucky breathed out. "You enjoy tormenting me, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes."

"Yes," Lulu answered. "You're fun to tease. I like it." She reached out and punched Lucky's arm, hopping away when he tried to return the swat. "Ha, ha. Can't catch me!"

"Brat." Lucky gritted out as he rose from the bed. "I'm going to tickle you to death when I catch you."

Lulu shrieked in mock horror as she ran down the hallway and loudly jumped down the stairs two at a time. "Lucky's going to tickle me to death!" she screamed gleefully as she ran through the living room.

~*~*~*~

This is a test, Lucky thought as he strolled into the kitchen. I have to eat or they'll think I'm still crazy. I don’t want to ever eat again. That's how I feel.

Lucky sat down at the table and looked around him with wariness. The table was set with a cheery, summer flowered patterned tablecloth in bright colors, and the usual dinner china was replaced with bright plastic plates.

"We're having a cookout," Bobbie said with a smile. "Your uncle and Frisco are battling with the grill. I hope they don't blow themselves up by playing around with the propane tank. I forget. Do you like hamburgers or hotdogs, Lucky?"

"Both. I eat them together in a hamburger bun," Lucky explained. "It's called a hamdog. It's a Tony Jones invention."

Bobbie's eyebrows rose, and she playfully patted Lucky on top of his head. "I can't keep up with you guys."

Lucky looked around the kitchen and played with his plastic fork until it finally broke off a tine. He hid it under his napkin and selected a new one from the pile on the table. Lucas bounded into the house with a laugh and shouted, "It's done! The grill works, and the food is cooked - finally! It was supposed to be cooked half an hour ago!" Lucas eyed Lucky curiously. He sidled up to his cousin and poked him with a finger. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Dad appointed me as your official food tester. Kings used to do that in the olden days. Don't you feel special?"

Lucky grimaced. "Oh yeah, Lucas. I feel really special having you nose around my food. You'd better not drool on anything."

Lucas puffed up his chest and thrust his thumb towards himself. "I get the first bite of everything."

Lucky nodded. "Okay, Lucas." His eyes caught Bobbie's, and he couldn't resist laughing at the expression on her face. "You're having too much fun, Aunt Bobbie. Better stop while you're ahead."

"Oh, I'm just working my way up to having fun," Bobbie teased.

"Hot off the grill," Tony announced as he stepped into the kitchen with a platter full of cooked hamburgers. He laid it on the table and removed his oven mitt. Frisco followed with a platter of hotdogs. "One hamdog for Mr. Spencer?" Tony questioned.

"You bet," Lucky answered. He glanced at Lucas, who was jumping up and down excitedly at the prospect of sampling Lucky's food. Tony handed a hamdog to Lucky, but Lucas intercepted it and chomped off half of the hotdog, smiling and chewing with his mouth full.

"You're a trip," Lucky said, secretly glad that his cousin was creating a distraction and taking his mind off of the possibility of poisoned food.  Tony handed him three pills to take with his dinner, and he swallowed them down quickly, feeling grateful to be on only an antipsychotic, antibiotic and anticonvulsant. I'm anti-everything, Lucky thought. He glanced around the table at his family with everyone passing chips, platters of meat and vegetables. This is nice. He automatically smacked away Lucas' hand when the boy had sampled over half of the chips that Lucky had selected. "Are you trying to starve me?"  think a sample only equals one or two chips, don't you?"

Lucas shrugged and reached for the chip bag. "I like chips!"

~*~*~*~

"How are you, boy?" Lucky sat down next to Harley who was reclining next to his dog house. Harley immediately jumped to his feet and assaulted Lucky with repeated sloppy licks to his head, face and hands.

"I love you, too!" Lucky exclaimed as he hugged his dog. He stroked the dog's head until the animal rolled over on his back and waved a paw at his master to ask for a belly rub.

"Why is it always the belly?" Lucky complained. "You're a glutton. It's never enough for you."

Harley replied by wagging his tongue and closing his eyes in ecstasy.

"I missed you, buddy," Lucky whispered. "I didn't remember you for the first two or three days, but then I was worried about you. I know Aunt Bobbie and Uncle Tony took you for your walks, but it isn't the same. We know all of the best bushes and sidewalks for miles around, don't we?"

Lucky rose to his feet and coughed harshly. He fastened the leash to Harley's collar and coughed again when the dog leaped up and raced for the gate to the fence. "Slow down," Lucky complained. "I can't walk that fast right now." Harley continued with his happy, puppy enthusiasm as Lucky pulled back on the leash, trying to maintain some control. As he closed the gate and stepped out onto the driveway, Frisco exited the side door to the house.

"Hey," Frisco called out. "I heard you coughing and thought I'd volunteer to walk your dog. You look beat. It's your first day back. Why don't you get some R&R? Part of my heart patient therapy is walking twice a day. It'll do me some good."

Lucky looked at Frisco with gratitude. "That would help out a lot. Let me tell you what his favorite walk is. I'll go with you guys to the corner, and then head back home."

"That was a nice card," Frisco commented as he looped the dog's leather leash several times around his hand. "Thanks." Frisco was referring to the thank you card that Lucky had bought him. Lucky had included a small note thanking Frisco for saving his life and arresting Faison.

"I wouldn't be here if you hadn't done your job above and beyond the call of duty," Lucky said. "I wanted you to know how grateful I am."

"Truthfully, I wasn't sure if you'd ever want to speak to me again," Frisco replied. "I know you've had a hard time. I shouldn't have let the man get so close to you. I'm sorry about that."

"It was inevitable, wasn't it? I mean, if someone wants to get to you badly enough, they do. It happens to presidents and celebrities - the stalkers that is. You did the best you could."

"So you won't mind having me around for a few weeks?" Frisco inquired. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable if I'm staying at Tony and Bobbie's."

Lucky shook his head. "Nah. You can provide me with some Lucas relief. He has a lot of energy and wants to play constantly. Plus, you're helping me with Harley. It's good. Let me know if I can do anything for you."

"Tony is going to put us to work," Frisco warned. "He's been talking about that construction project over the carriage house nonstop since I moved in. Tony and I both worked in construction while we were in college."

"Super. Teach me how to build," Lucky answered. "I'm looking forward to it. Besides, I'll have my own place when it's done. How long do you think it will take?"

"Maybe eight weeks if we put the press on," Frisco estimated.

"Cool."

~*~*~*~

Lucky was lying on his back in the dark with only the illumination of his computer for light. It emitted a soft glow that allowed him to dial the number he'd memorized. He recalled talking to Emily while he was in the hospital and the pleasure he'd felt when she'd kissed his cheek and entwined her fingers with his.  Talking with her on the phone would be great, but he'd rather be lying next to her on his bed. Lucky chuckled and held a hand to his head. If Emily were here, she'd be saying. Down boy!

"Hey there," he said in his most sultry voice. "I'm home."

"Lucky. That's super!" Emily exclaimed. "My mother said you were looking and feeling so much better. I’m relieved. How are you now?"

"Better. I'm still worn out and have two more weeks worth of antibiotics, but I'll survive. Lots of naps. That'll be my motto."

"Do what they tell you," Emily said. "I want you to be well."

"Me, too," Lucky replied. "I have a surprise for you."

"I love surprises! But I don’t want to guess. Tell me!" Emily lay down on her bed and hugged a pillow close to her as she fingered its generous fringe. She remembered the necklace tucked under her teeshirt and pulled it out to inspect the silver half heart pendant, running her finger over its rough edge.

"I quit smoking."

"What?" Emily squealed. "I'm so surprised. I thought you'd be a smoker forever the way you sucked down those cigarettes. I mean, it was like they were this great experience for you."

"Don’t remind me. I just quit. It isn't easy," Lucky said. He fingered the outline of the nicotine patch on his upper arm through the thin material of his teeshirt. "I’m on the patch, though, so it's supposed to help. I'll have to give you a big kiss when I see you so you can tell me if you notice a difference," he added. Lucky knew that he wasn't out of the doghouse with Emily yet, and that they hadn't had their long-awaited talk, but he couldn’t help expressing how he felt. He cleared his throat nervously. "I know we still need to talk, but I can't help myself - I have to tell you how much I love you. I really do. Please don't answer because I know you need some more time to think and to listen to what I have to say. But I wanted you to know that you're a very special person to me and that I like you a lot. There. I said it." Lucky switched the phone to his other ear and anxiously waited for Emily to reply.

"Thank you," Emily replied softly. "It means a lot that you feel that way about me. Thanks, Lucky." Emily held back on repeating that she loved him because she wasn't one hundred percent sure if they'd still be a couple after they talked. Well, she was ninety percent sure, but was it fair to lead him on in case they broke up? "You're a special person, too. No matter what."

Lucky smiled as he could detect Emily's true emotions through her tone of voice. "We do need to talk soon, but I'm still going to kiss you before we start."

Emily laughed in spite of herself. "And who's protesting, Lucky?"

Next...

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