Devolution TOC

Chapter 132

"I'd like you to tell me which areas you want to work on." Kevin said.

Tony was seated beside Lucky and noticed that his nephew flinched when Kevin made his request.

"I don't like to think there's anything wrong with me per se," Lucky clarified with a tense voice. He ran his hand over his hair and frowned.

Kevin raised his eyebrows without speaking.

"Okay! All right," Lucky conceded. "I have a few issues to cover." He squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with being in the spotlight when he'd expected that Kevin would produce a few ideas and that would be that. "I'm uncomfortable with the idea of working. My last two jobs ended in disaster, and I'm nervous about trying again."

"Lucky agreed to work with me at the Free Clinic doing odd jobs and computer administration," Tony said. "He'll be supervised by personnel at the clinic and given reviews at periodic intervals."

"That should help boost your confidence," Kevin said.

Lucky nodded. "I'm afraid to talk to people or go places. I have to force myself to hold conversations sometimes. But I have a membership now at the country club, and Edward Quartermaine is going to teach me golf. He's kind of scary, so maybe he's good practice."

"As long as you feel you'd have a positive experience with him," Kevin said. Good Lord, who could stand talking to Edward for more than ten minutes?

"Oh, Edward's not too bad. He's challenging, but he likes me, so that's cool. And I do want to learn how to play golf. We have a date to play golf once a week."

"Anything else?"

Lucky glanced at Tony. "I’m feeling guilty."

"About what?"

"Oh. About how I've acted the last two years, how I've treated people. I burnt a lot of bridges and hurt people - employers, landlords, relatives."

Kevin looked at Tony who shrugged. "We've had our ups and downs, haven't we, kiddo?" Tony patted Lucky on the shoulder. "But we're hanging in there."

"Still, I feel guilty," Lucky mumbled with his eyes directed down. "People have spent so much time and money worrying about me and taking care of me. I stole from Jake, my ex-landlord. And I vanished on my boss at the White Castle."

"What would make you feel better about this?"

Lucky shot Kevin an annoyed glance as he thought it was Kevin's job to make suggestions, and now he was doing all of the work himself. He shrugged. "First, I'd like to apologize directly to those people. I want to give Jake money to cover the liquor that I stole from her." He turned toward the window and appeared lost in thought. Finally, he said, "The pastor at my church needs some help. I could go there and volunteer a couple of hours per week. His wife asked me to be the backup cantor on Sundays if the regular cantor can't attend. I could do that."

Kevin nodded and smiled as he played with his Mont Blanc pen, turning round and round between his fingers. "I think your plan is sound. Why don't you keep a daily log of how you feel about your progress and any problems that crop up? We can discuss your activities and work on solutions to problems when you visit."

Lucky sat higher in his chair. "So I don't have to go back to the day program?" he asked.

Kevin shook his head. "You're an adult, and as such you have a right to an opinion regarding your treatment. I think you've devised a plan that will help you with the areas you want to work on. Let's try it and see."

Lucky shot Tony a glance of triumph and appreciation for having suggested this meeting with Kevin. "Okay!  It's going to work. I know it will."

~*~*~*~

Next day...

Lucky opened the door to the convenience store located half a mile from the house. He held it open for Lulu, who ran straight for the toy aisle. Lucky shook his head at his sister's doll obsession when she called out that she'd found a new one she didn't have.

"No dolls, Lulu," he reminded her. "We're here to pick a few things up for Aunt Bobbie." Bobbie was baking that day, and she'd run out of sugar and milk.

"Luckeeee," Lulu whined.

"Come here and stay with me," Lucky said. "I don't want you wandering away."

"You sound like Daddy," Lulu complained as she crossed her arms. "I don't like it."

"I'm just trying to keep you safe, Lulu-belle. I don't want anything to happen to you. Humor me, okay?" He walked up to her and rested his arm around her shoulders, giving her a tiny squeeze. "Where's the food in this place?" he wondered as he craned his neck to look down the aisles.

"Over there," Lulu pointed. "See? There's a sign overhead. It says, Food."

Lucky patted her on the back. "I guess I should have looked for signs. I'm glad my sister is so smart."

"I know," Lulu sighed.

"Let's find each of us a candy bar before we leave," Lucky suggested after he found the milk and sugar. "I'll buy you any candy bar you want, but only one, so you'd better find a good one."

"How about this?"

Lucky shook his head. "Lulu, that's an entire bag of candy. There must be twenty little candy bars in there."

Lulu's face scrunched up in protest. "But you said one, and it's only one, see?" Her small hand proudly held up the bag as she poked a finger at it. "One."

"Are you going to stand there and argue with me or are you going to select one candy bar? You're giving me a headache, Lulu. You know I didn't mean I'd buy you an entire bag of candy."

"Partypooper," Lulu muttered under her breath. "Okay, Lucky. I'll take a Butterfinger. I like those."

"Me, too! Great minds think alike. Let's buy two of them."

Outside of the store, Lucky handed both candy bars to his sister. "Can I trust you not to eat both of them while we walk back to the house?"

"I dunno," Lulu stated in a sing-song voice. "You never know..." She stayed close to her brother's side as she was unfamiliar with the neighborhood. "How come I've never been here before?"

"Because no one ever needed to walk to a convenience store before. We always drove to pick up groceries, but this is an emergency. Aunt Bobbie can't leave the house because she's watching her pies, and I can't drive so here we are."

"I don't ever remember you driving," Lulu said.

"That's because you were in North Carolina with Mom. I stopped driving after I went into the hospital in December. You weren't here yet."

"Oh," Lulu said. "How come you went into the hospital in December?"

Lucky cleared his throat, uncertain as to what to say to his sister. "You know I have problems."

"I know. Epilepsy and schizo...whatever. But why did you have to go? Were you real sick?"

Lucky bit hard on the inside of his cheek. Lucas and Lulu knew the bare facts of his existence, but not the particulars. They were too young to handle the details, as dire as they were. They'd be told later on when they were older and more mature. But he hated avoiding her questions. It felt like he was lying, and that's the last thing he wanted to do to her. She trusted him. "I hurt myself," he said. "That's why I was in the hospital." He stopped on the sidewalk and faced her. "I cut my wrist, so they had to fix it."

Lulu's eyes were large and solemn. She touched his damaged wrist and said, "That's why it looks this way?"

Lucky nodded and smoothed his hand over her hair. "Yes. I told you before that I'd hurt it; however, I did it to myself on purpose. I'm sorry I did it, but it's healed now, and everything is okay." The conversation seemed oddly familiar, and his mind went back to when he'd told Lucas about the incident. His younger cousin must have instinctively kept that information to himself - or maybe Uncle Tony encouraged him to remain mute.

"Are you sure, Lucky?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Why did you do it?" Lulu was skipping beside Lucky as they resumed their walk. She had the carefree nature of a child who was secure in her world and her relationships, feeling free to ask whatever her curiosity presented her.

Lucky flinched. She won't let up. I have to say something, but I don't want to scare or confuse her. "I was so sad and upset that I wasn't thinking clearly. People don't do things like that if their thoughts are in order. That's why. You know I have problems with my brain, and that's what made me sad."

"Okay," Lulu said, accepting Lucky's brief explanation. She took hold of her brother's hand and swung it back and forth. "I'm glad you're out of the hospital and happy. It makes me feel good."

Lucky's eyes twinkled down at his sister. "I’m happy to be with you. That's all I've ever wanted." Lord, don't let her start asking questions about Mom. I don't think I can handle it right now. He stopped walking and stood still as an odd feeling came over him. He set down the paper bag he was carrying and held his palm to the side of his head. "I feel weird," he said in a distant voice.

Lulu's warning alert went on full force as she recalled her Uncle Tony's instructions the other day. "Sit down here," she said as she led Lucky over to the grass of the nearest front lawn. He followed her lead, letting out a half sigh, half groan as he lay back on the grass.

"Turn over," Lulu said. She pushed at his broad shoulders to help turn him onto his left side. Lucky's eyes closed as his right arm and leg started twitching. After a minute, he lay still, and Lulu pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, rapidly dialing the number she knew by heart. "Aunt Bobbie," she said. "Lucky has his epilepsy. He's lying on the grass. I made him turn on his side, and his eyes are closed." She listened to her aunt asking her where they were. "I'm not sure. We're on the sidewalk on the way home. It's not our neighborhood." Lulu's eyes darted in several directions. "We're in front of a house, and the number is 1014. Okay," she said in response to her aunt's prompting to walk several paces away to hunt for a street sign. "The sign says Brown Street. Okay, Aunt Bobbie. I'll wait here."

A middle aged woman emerged from the house with a worried look on her face. Lucky's prone body was sprawled in her front yard. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

Lulu sat down beside her brother and shook her head. "I called my aunt. She's a nurse. My brother is having epilepsy. I know how to help him."

Lucky's eyes didn't open, and his arm and leg convulsed again for thirty seconds. Lulu patted his face and hair. "Lucky?"

"I'm going to wait with you to see if your aunt comes by," the woman stated. "If she's not here soon, I'll phone for an ambulance."

Lulu was aware that she wasn't supposed to talk to strange adults. "Okay," she said reluctantly. "Can you sit over there?" she asked with a finger pointed toward the front steps of the house.  "I'm taking care of my brother."

"Sure," the woman said, amused by Lulu's take charge attitude at her young age. She sat down on the steps and watched. The young man wasn't waking or sitting up and now he was vomiting onto the grass. She walked back inside the house to grab a washcloth so he could be cleaned off.

"Oooo, Lucky!" Lulu shouted as she scurried backwards. "Why do you have to do that? Yuck."

Lucky groaned and fluttered his eyelids as he became aware of his surroundings. "I had a seizure?" he asked groggily. He held a hand to his head and tried to rise but promptly laid back down.

"Here you go," the woman said as she approached Lulu with a warm, moist washcloth. "He could use some help in cleaning up." She didn't want to frighten the girl so she handed her the washcloth and backed off, letting Lulu take care of her brother.

Lulu ran the washcloth over Lucky's cheek and lips, cleaning them off completely. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Lucky said in a puzzled voice. He closed his eyes against the bright sunlight.

"Aunt Bobbie's here!" Lulu announced excitedly. She dropped the soiled washcloth and bounded over to her aunt's car. "There he is!"

Bobbie ran over to Lucky and looked over at the woman on the steps. "I'm his aunt," she said. "Thanks for watching over them. I'll help him into the car."

The woman nodded. "You have a brave little girl," she said. 

Bobbie pulled Lucky to his feet. Lucky swayed and frowned as he squinted in her direction. "We're going home," Bobbie said. "You had a seizure and your sister called me."

"Thanks, Lulu," Lucky breathed out as he was deposited into the back seat. He was overtaken by a wave of tiredness and closed his eyes again.

~*~*~*~

"Lucky, I saved your candy bar." Lulu sat down beside her brother on the couch. Lucky was watching TV and channel surfing, half reclined on a mound of pillows.

"Lulu-belle, you're so sweet, thanks." Lucky accepted the candy bar and tore off the top of the wrapper. "Do you want a bite?"

"Yes, if you don't mind. They're my favorite." Lulu leaned in and nipped off the top of the candy bar, smiling and munching as she swung her legs up and down. She squeezed her favorite doll tightly to her chest. "Lucky? Are you feeling better?"

Lucky sat up on the couch and continued to eat his candy bar. "I am. It's passed. Just a slight headache and fuzzy feeling now." He sought out his sister's face and placed an arm around her. "Thank you for helping me, Lulu. You did great. I'm sorry if I scared you. You shouldn't have to worry about me. It's my job to take care of you, not the other way around." Lucky ran his hand over Lulu's braids and pulled one gently.

Lulu's continued to swing her legs. "Uncle Tony taught us what to do. It wasn't hard. You're my big brother, but I can take care of you, too. I love you, Lucky." Lulu snuggled against her brother and hugged him.

Lucky's eyes moistened in reaction to his little sister's loving words, and he chuckled when he noticed that her doll had become wedged between them during their hug. "I'm scrunching your doll," he said as he separated from her embrace. "She's not going to wet on me, is she?"

"Oh, Lucky!" Lulu swatted at her brother's arm. "This doll doesn't wet."

"She keeps it all inside?" Lucky teased. "Won't she explode? What a mess that would be. BabyExplodeHerGuts. That's what we'll call her."

"Will not!" Lulu retorted. "Her name is Christabelle. She's very refined and elegant. She's from Europe."

"Let me guess. Nikolas gave her to you?"

"Uh-huh. He said that only special little girls get to have this doll, and I'm one of them."

Great, Nik, just great. Feed her doll obsession and her ego at the same time. And you had to give her a blonde doll, didn't you. "She's very nice," Lucky expressed with appreciation. "But not as cute as you."

Lulu nodded seriously. "They should make a doll that looks like me. We could call her Lulu-belle."

"Oh yeah?" Lucky reached out and lightly placed his hands around her neck. "I'd only want one if I could pull her head off. Like this."

Lulu shrieked. She enjoyed her older brother's teasing. She twisted and punched him lightly in the stomach. "No! Nobody's gonna pull off my head."

Lucky tickled her mercilessly. "Aw, you're no fun."

~*~*~*~

"Aunt Bobbie?" Lucky stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you up?" she asked. "Has your headache gone away?" Bobbie pulled off her oven mitts and leaned against the counter as she carefully reviewed her nephew's appearance. He looks very pale and tired.

Lucky ran a hand over his face and sighed. "It's not as bad now. Um. I wanted to talk to you about Lulu."

"Sure. I have a break while the pies are in the oven. Let's sit down at the table." Bobbie cleared off a pile of newspapers and the kids' artwork so they could sit without being distracted.

Lucky plopped down into his seat with a tense expression on his face. "I'm worried about Lulu," he said. "She shouldn't have to look after me or be responsible for my health. She's too young. I don't think it was good for her to have to manage the situation this morning."

Bobbie was flooded with sympathy as she knew how proud Lucky was, especially of being the older brother who could take care of his sister. In fact, it seemed like Lucky had always been overprotective of her to the point where he often acted like a parent rather than a brother. Lucky didn't seem to recognize where unfair burdens had been placed on him. "It depends on the person, Lucky," she said. "I spoke at length with Lulu after we came home, and she really seems fine to me. She was very proud that she was able to assist you and doesn't seem traumatized at all. In fact, she was beaming while she was talking about it. I understand your concern, and I'll be sure to watch her closely, but I really think she's fine."

Lucky scratched his head and then held out his wrist. "She asked me about this right before I had my seizure. I told her the truth, kind of like what I told Lucas when he asked me."

"Children are curious," Bobbie reminded him. "They ask questions."

Lucky nodded, but his face betrayed his irritation. "I know, I know. I think I told her in a way that didn't scare her. She took my hand and was nonchalant about it. But, I'm still worried about her."

Bobbie took his hand and smiled. "I'm sure you did an excellent job of explaining the situation. Give yourself more credit. You're wonderful with Lulu, and Lucas, too."

"I do like kids," Lucky said. "But why can't I stop worrying about them?"

"Maybe because you needed someone to worry about you a few years ago?" Bobbie said gently. She met Lucky's eyes. "Why don’t you relax and let Tony and I worry about the kids? We're looking after them and giving them what they need. There's only so much time in the day, Lucky. You need to take care of yourself, too. Have some fun. It's summer, and you'll be starting school soon."

"Have fun lying on the ground, throwing up in some lady's yard," Lucky said morosely as his mouth turned down.

"You had a problem. The problem is over, and the whole afternoon is yours," Bobbie said. "Pick yourself up and move on."

Lucky glanced at Bobbie and then turned his attention to the table, stacking a few pieces of paper into a pile.  "You're right. I'm going to see if Frisco needs help with construction. Thanks for reminding me."

Bobbie's attention was diverted by the dinging of the oven timer. "Pies are done," she said as she rose from the table. "Why did I ever volunteer to bake them for a charity event?"

"Because you love to do it," Lucky said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I made an extra cherry pie just for you. That's your favorite, isn't it? All Spencers love cherry pie."

"You bet!" Lucky leaned in and kissed his aunt's cheek. "You're the best, Aunt Bobbie. Thanks for talking to me."

~*~*~*~

Next afternoon...

"Aren't you going to play, Edward?" Lucky looked curiously at the old man in plaid pants and matching cap. They were standing at the ninth hole, and the game was almost half over with Lucky as the sole player.

Edward held up a gnarled, arthritic hand. "Can't play anymore, Lorenzo. My hands won't cooperate." His beady eyes twinkled as his white brows knit together. "But I can teach you all the tricks, young man. Now line up that shot." Edward handed Lucky the correct club and placed Lucky's hands in the correct position. "Swing back nice and easy. Remember - it's a swooping motion. You're not hacking down at the dirt. Use your innate finesse."

Lucky followed Edward's instructions and made a very good swing, connecting firmly with the ball and sending it directly toward the hole.

Edward clapped him on the back. "Excellent, excellent. Now all you have to do is putt it into the hole. You're coming along nicely."

Lucky shaded his eyes and squinted. "It helps to have those neon balls. I can see it over on the putting green." Lucky picked up his clubs and hauled them back to the golf cart. Edward took off and made Lucky flinch for the tenth time that day in reaction to his crazy driving habits. Even with a seizure on a bad day, Lucky thought he'd have a smoother touch than his golfing partner. Edward made a sharp motion toward another plaid-panted golfer and honked his horn furiously. He tipped his hat when the man swore ferociously and threw his club to the ground.

"Friend of yours?" Lucky asked.

"For forty years," Edward stated proudly. "He ought to know better than that - he's wearing an identical pair of pants." Edward glowered under his cap. "Only one of us has rights to those pants, and I've been a member longer."

Lucky gulped as he looked over at Edward's clothing. He almost made a sign of the cross as protection against their ugly glare. Edward was wearing a bright, lime green nylon shirt, and his friend had worn an identical hot pink one. What was it with these old guys and the bright, gaudy colors? Was it to make up for their drab wardrobes that they wore the other days of the week? Or had the sun gone to their heads? Lucky was content in his khaki shorts and navy blue polo shirt and not looking for any fashion tips from old men, that's for sure.

Lucky had the same sick feeling in his stomach whenever he walked near a putting green these days. His stomach rolled with the memories of being poisoned and taunted by Faison. At least there wasn't a can of soda pop nearby to remind him of the biting feel of cyanide rolling down his throat. He pulled out his putter and frowned as he wrapped his fingers around its cylindrical metal shape. He recalled hitting Faison with vicious accuracy, and it amused him that the man didn't seem to like being beaten up, although he sure liked to dish it out. Lucky supposed Faison was enjoying his prison mates now. He laughed out loud and jumped when he heard Edward's voice.

"What's so funny Lorenzo?"

"Oh. Nothing. Can you show me the best way to hold the putter?" Lucky effectively segued out of an intense conversation with the crazy old man beside him by appealing to Edward's vanity.

"I was a superior putter back in my day," Edward chattered. The old man had no intention on letting up with the stories of the grand old days of golf. Lucky tuned him out and concentrated on his strategy for driving the ball into the hole. Edward positioned his hands on the putter and drew Lucky's arms back to demonstrate the correct motion to hit the ball. Lucky had a smooth way of swinging the club that allowed his wonderful eye and hand coordination to take over. He shouted out and jumped into the air when his ball obediently rolled into the hole.

Edward removed his cap and scratched his head. "I do believe I'm in the presence of a fine golf player. You'll be unstoppable if you practice often." His old blue eyes lit up when an idea crossed his mind. He draped his arm over Lucky's shoulder and whispered in his direction. "How would you like to join the Quartermaine Charity Team? We have an event coming up soon, and I'd be proud if you'd join us."

Lucky smiled broadly as he retrieved his ball from the hole and dusted off a few pieces of grass. "I'd like that, Edward. Thanks for asking me. Golf is cool."

~*~*~*~

9:30PM

The night air was warm and breezy as it passed over their skin. It was a clear night, and the stars were visible with a near full moon illuminating the dark sky. Lucky and Emily were sitting arm in arm within the gazebo on the Quartermaine estate. It overlooked a small pond and was the perfect place for two young people to swing on the swing and talk about life.

"It's so peaceful out here," Lucky whispered in Emily's ear. He pushed her hair aside and stroked the side of her cheek with the back of his hand.

"I love to come out here when I want to be alone and think. It's far enough away from the house that I can get away from the constant tension and let my mind wander. Plus, it's nice to be close to nature - it's so sane compared to us humans."

Lucky held Emily tighter and quickly agreed. "It must be hard for you to live with the Q's sometimes. I'm grateful that I have my aunt and uncle. Our house is so peaceful. Until the kids start fighting of course."

"But it's not so bizarre like my family. I love them, but they drive me nuts."

"Is your dad still trying to talk you into going to Harvard?"

"Of course. He won't let up for a second. If I see him walking down the hallway, I run in the other direction. Maybe I should take a room over Kelly's diner like I threatened."

Lucky pulled back to look closely at Emily. "When did you tell him that?"

Emily sighed. "Oh, a couple of months ago - back in the winter actually."

"Alan blames me for you staying here, doesn't he?"

"To be honest, yes, he does. But that's my dad. He has to find someone to blame. But why not me? It's my idea. I want to stay in Port Charles independent of my relationship with you. I'm not into college, and I don't want the hassle of moving. This will be easier."

"I'm excited about school," Lucky said. "It's been a long hard road this year. I think I'll appreciate it more, though." He sighed. "With this damaged brain of mine, it'll be a miracle if I graduate."

"A large part of receiving good grades is how much effort you put into it," Emily said. "I know you'll try hard and succeed." She interlaced her fingers Lucky's.

"Yeah, but I had another seizure yesterday. Poor Lulu had to take care of me."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lucky said. "But I'll never know when one will happen, and I'll never drive again unless I have surgery."

"You never mentioned surgery to me."

It seemed easier to talk to his girlfriend while they were sitting in the dark and unable to closely read the expressions on each others' faces, so Lucky took in a deep breath and unloaded. "Tony scheduled an appointment for me in New York City next week. If all goes well, I'll have the surgery in December to remove the lesion on my brain. It's what's causing the seizures, and it won't get better on its own. The drugs only help partially. I have fewer seizures, but the neuroleptic I'm taking also makes it more likely I'll have one. It's complicated. I can't do without the neuroleptic. It's what keeps my mind working and productive. Otherwise, I'd be having hallucinations most of the time and act like a total nutcase. I'm a little concerned because who wants someone to drill into your skull and cut into your brain, you know? But I have no choice if I want to be totally cured, and I do, so that's that."

"It sounds like you have it planned out," Emily replied. She started playing with Lucky's fingers, pulling them gently and stroking them. He shrank back sharply and pulled away from her, frowning with a rising sense of panic building within him.

"I'm sorry," Emily said quickly. "I forgot."

"It's always going to be there, Emily." Lucky's face set, and he nervously ran his hand through his hair. "I'm always going to have problems with people touching me. I told you that." His head tilted down as he was flooded with despair. "I'm never going to be normal. I have too many issues."

Emily wrapped her arm around Lucky's and placed her cheek on his shoulder. "I know. We talked about it, and I understand. I don't want normal, whatever that is. I know what I want, and that's you. Were you ever average? I remember a guy who always had his own mind and unique ways of doing things. You're still that guy."

Lucky folded his hands together and nodded. "I'm being too negative. I need to practice being positive."

"Okay," Emily said. "Let's start. I'll go first." She gazed out of the gazebo at the ripples of water on the pond. "I'm happy that you're out of the hospital and sitting here with me. We didn't have that several months ago."

"I'm happy you forgave me," Lucky started. "And I'm glad that I have a nice home with Tony and Bobbie. Lulu lives with me now, and there was a time I thought I'd never see her again.  Nikolas paid off all my bills, which allowed me to start over. I get along great with my brother. I don't have to go back to the day program, and I'm going to be at the Free Clinic, working with computers again. I'm lifting weights, and my eating disorder seems to be gone. I have a great dog. My hair is growing out of that stupid short cut I got. My college tuition is totally paid off, and I have money in the bank. I can visit my dad now that he's out of Pentonville. He's coming home in a couple of years. I haven't gone back to my drug and alcohol addictions. I have a relationship with God, and I like my church. I'm learning to play golf, and I love it. I'm starting to make friends again. And of course, I have the best girlfriend in the world..."

"Okay," Emily laughed. "You can stop now. See? Your life is improving so much."

"You're right," Lucky said. "I agree. It is getting better. You're the best part." Lucky drew Emily into a tender hug and placed his lips over hers in a passionate kiss. They separated and looked deep into one another's eyes. "You're so special to me," he said as he drew back her hair and played with it. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Lucky." They continued to stare into each other's eyes, and the darkness didn't shadow the love that passed between them. Finally, he kissed Emily on top of her nose and nestled back on the swing, drawing her toward his chest.

"What do you want to do with your life after you graduate?" Lucky asked.

"I'm not totally sure. I'm not even going to declare a major for awhile. Since I'm part of the Quartermaine clan, they'd love it if I decided on business or medicine. But I hate medical stuff, so that's out. Business I'm not sure about. I can see myself opening a boutique or a modeling agency - something creative and business-like at the same time. How about you? Are you still planning on being the next Bill Gates?"

"That's Edward's idea!" Lucky protested "I don't know. Originally, I was going to be a programmer, but after having the mental illnesses and now some brain damage, I'm not sure if that's the road for me. I'm going to take general studies classes first. I used to be real good at math, but that might have changed. I'm not sure. I don't fancy sitting behind a desk and debugging programs all my life, so that's another consideration. I like to be out and about during the day, not chained to a cubicle. That's why I liked my job at GH. I traveled to all the locations. Some people wouldn't like that, but I did."

"Maybe you could go back to that while you're in school. Didn’t you say they were thrilled with your work?"

"Yes, they were, but I’m not thrilled about the prospect of being in GH all the time since I spent nearly seven months there in a locked ward - too much GH for me. And people talk, Emily. I'd have to always worry what had been said about me in a particular department. Emergency knows me on sight." Lucky found that funny, and his laughter rang out into the night. Several ducks quacked angrily at him in response. "GH has been my home away from home this past year - pneumonia, psychosis, suicide and murder attempts. It's been quite a year. There must be a write-up about me in the medical books." Lucky shook his head and sighed, but another thought ran through his mind, and he sat up straighter with a feeling of pride. "But you know what? God has been with me through all of this. He saved me - body, mind and spirit. I’m whole again, and I have so many wonderful people surrounding me. He did that. My life is good now, and everything will be okay. I know that. Last year at this time, I was drinking and taking heroin, working and living in a dive and without a friend in the world. Look at me now. It's a miracle, isn't it?"

Emily nodded solemnly. "It is."

Silence grew between them, and Lucky said that he needed to be getting home since he had to get up early the next morning to be the cantor for both church services.

"What's a cantor?" Emily asked. "I never was much into church,"

"A cantor sings liturgy and scripture," Lucky explained. "It's pretty set. There's a certain way you sing it with particular notes. Tomorrow I sing the Kyrie and the Psalm for the day."

"Sounds neat," Emily said. "You have a wonderful voice. It's nice you're volunteering to do that."

"It's only as a backup. The regular person is out of town that weekend."

"But still, it's nice. So when are you going to invite me to come hear you sing?"

"Not tomorrow," Lucky said. "I'm so nervous about doing it the first time. How about the next time I sing?"

"Okay," Emily agreed as she took his hand again. "I'll drive you back to the Victorian."

~*~*~*~

11:30PM

Lucky placed his bible in a desk drawer, climbed into bed and turned out his light on the nightstand. He settled into bed, fluffing his pillows and placing them against his headboard so he'd be comfortable as he reclined. He placed his hands behind his head and began praying. When he came to the subject of his mother, he opened his eyes and looked sadly out into the blackness of his room. The moon provided a tiny amount of illumination through his window and blinds, and he could see his feet sticking up at the end of the bed as well as the gleam of the crystal doorknob on the oak door of his bedroom.

I’m trying to forgive my mother, Lord. I'm reading my bible and talking to people about it. The pastor said it might be a process. I've been working toward it the best I can, but I'm still not there. Kevin says I should visit her to clear the air, and maybe he's right. She hurt me so badly, and I'm still affected by what she's done to me. How do I forgive her when I feel it all the time? I can't look at my baby sister without remembering she kept her from me for almost two years. And, when I see my wrist, I know why I did it. I need help with this. I can't do it on my own. Show me how to forgive and help me to do it. I can pray for her, maybe that will change my thinking. I pray that she will eventually see the truth of what she's done. I pray that she is comfortable in prison and not hassled by the guards and other inmates. I pray that she looks into her heart to discover why she's acted as she has. Please convict her of what she's done so she searches for the answers. Give her your presence. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen. Lucky blinked his eyes several times and made one addition to his prayer. Jesus? In the bible, you said you'd do anything I asked in your name. I asked you to help me forgive my mother, and I believe you'll do it. Amen.

Lucky rolled over in bed, hugged his pillow close and fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

~*~*~*~

Lucky gulped as he looked out into the seated congregation from his place on a short pew behind the pulpit. His hand tightly gripped the church bulletin as he checked it again and again to make sure when it was his turn to rise and stand before the altar to do his thing. Why did almost everyone he knew in Port Charles have to be seated in the pews directly in front of him? His sharp eyes noted that his friends and relations filled up two entire pews. This is Aunt Bobbie's doing, I know it. She invited everyone to lunch, so they had to come. But they're here at the first service, and I'm nervous as heck. When the pastor finished the invocation, he rose, pulling on his neatly pressed trousers and adjusting his tie. His eyes briefly met the pastor's as he crossed over to the front of the altar.

The organist sounded the notes as a preview, and Lucky responded in a rich tenor voice, clear and lovely in its intensity. The congregation stood and responded by singing "Lord have mercy" after he sang.

He gained confidence as he was almost through and hadn't yet squeaked or hit a wrong note.

"For this holy house, and for all who offer here their worship and praise, let us pray to the Lord,"

"Lord have mercy."

Lucky smiled as he felt the positive atmosphere of his song meeting the congregation's response.

"Help, save, comfort and defend us gracious Lord."

"Amen," the congregation sang loudly.

When the organist began playing the following praise song, Lucky took his seat at the pew, waiting for the next time he'd stand beside the pulpit for the responsive Psalm reading. The pastor barely nodded at him and offered him a smile, and when Lucky looked out from his place at the pew, he saw Tony glance at him and give him a wink.

Lucky brushed at his trousers. I'm gonna live. I'm doing fine.

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