Chapter Twenty-Five
"Alexis, you’re an oasis of water to a dying, thirsty man," Luke said gratefully as he hugged his fiancée tightly and kissed her on the cheek.
"Luke, why didn’t you contact me?" Alexis asked worriedly. "Your sister called me and told me what happened. It’s so unbelievable. Your son is alive?" Alexis’ brown eyes widened with shock and concern. "How is that possible?"
"Frank Smith," Luke replied with a disgusted tone of voice. "That bastard kidnapped my son and raised him as his own – Frank Smith, Junior, or Frankie for short. And get this. He’s the kid that is Sly’s new best friend."
Alexis’ eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hand. "That Frankie? The hood, the one you thought was trying to destroy you?"
"Yep." Luke nodded as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I haven’t had a lot of time to think this over. It’s been one thing after another – that’s why I didn’t call you sooner. First, he showed up on my doorstep, all disheveled and crying for his dead daddy." Luke laughed bitterly. "I wasn’t very sympathetic. I cursed him out, and he collapsed," Luke choked up and stopped talking as he held his hand to his forehead. Alexis placed her arms around him, and he sighed. Luke looked around the hallway fearfully. "He might not make it, you know. He was in surgery for four hours. He has so many injuries – gunshot wound to the chest, ruptured kidney, and now they think something is wrong with his blood. They couldn’t stop the bleeding. He’s still receiving transfusions." Luke coughed and ran a hand over his eyes. "I’m sorry, Alexis," he apologized. "This has just hit me so damn hard."
"Let’s find a quiet place and sit down," Alexis suggested.
Luke looked back toward the ICU room with a worried expression on his face. "I don’t know if I should leave," he replied.
Alexis took his arm gently and said calmly, "He’s receiving care. We’ll let them know at the nursing station where we are."
:"Okay," Luke agreed in a small voice.
~*~*~*~
Bobbie placed a large scoop of ice cream into a bowl and handed it to Sly. "Chocolate is your favorite, isn’t it?" she asked brightly. Sly only nodded because he was too busy inhaling his first spoonful to reply verbally. "Thanks, Aunt Bobbie," he finally said. Lucas remained silent as he slurped at his ice cream, never even raising his head from the bowl.
"So you and Lucas are going to play baseball?" Bobbie questioned.
"YES!" shouted Lucas with a big chocolate smile. Sly smiled at his cousin and nodded.
"Did you know that Aunt Ruby figured out that Frankie was Luke’s son several weeks ago?" Bobbie asked conversationally. She was trying to find a way to broach the subject with her nephew, and this seemed as good of a place as any to start.
Sly’s face looked stunned. "No," he said sullenly. Yippee! he thought sarcastically.
"She has a sense for those things," said Bobbie. "You’d think we’d listen to every piece of advice that she gives, but no, we have to be stubborn about it."
Silence engulfed the brownstone dining room. "So is Frankie going to die?" Sly suddenly blurted out with a red face and eyes that betrayed his fear. He’d never known anyone close to his age that had been that seriously injured. It scared him to think that if Frankie could die, he could die, too.
Bobbie jumped a little in her seat, but recovered quickly. "We don’t know yet," she answered honestly. "Luke said that he made it out of surgery, so that’s a promising sign. It’s a major step."
Sly concentrated on his ice cream bowl, avoiding his aunt’s gaze. "So is Uncle Luke going to have me move out now?" Sly asked seriously as his hand shook making the spoon ring out against the porcelain bowl.
Bobbie blinked in surprise. "Sly, the ice cream will wait. Let’s stick it in the freezer and go talk in the living room a minute." Bobbie rose from her seat and took Sly’s ice cream into the kitchen. As she returned to the dining room, she asked, "Lucas, you’re fine with your ice cream, aren’t you?" Lucas nodded enthusiastically and dug into the mound of ice cream once more.
Bobbie and Sly settled onto the couch, and she took his hand into hers. "Are you worried that Luke won’t have a place in his life for you anymore since his son has returned?" she questioned. Bobbie’s eyes worriedly searched Sly’s face for clues to how he was feeling.
Sly’s eyes filled with tears, and his mouth turned into a tight, white line. He looked away to the far wall. "Yes," he said in a sad, tearful voice. Sly bit down hard on his lower lip, desperately trying to contain his tears.
"Honey, you mean the world to Luke," Bobbie explained gently as she stroked his hand. "Do you know how much he talks about you? It’s Sly this and Sly that. You can’t shut him up to get a word in edgewise once he starts talking about you. He loves you."
"But what about baby Lucky?" Sly asked with a quivering voice. "He’s always had that picture on the table in the living room, and he always leaves every year at the same time when the baby died. He’s not going to want me around anymore," he said resignedly. "Can I come live with you if I have to?" Sly asked hopefully with intense, searching eyes. "I promise I’ll help out the best I can. I’ll try not to get in the way."
Bobbie’s heart broke at the sight of her sad, insecure nephew, and she hugged him tightly. "You are always welcome in my home anytime you want to be here. Don’t you forget that. But don’t forget, too, that your uncle loves you, and he’d be miserable without you. He needs you to be with him now. This situation is hard on him, and you can help him by being there. Okay?"
Sly nodded wordlessly and hung his head.
~*~*~*~
"So what exactly do you know about this young man?" Alexis asked. "You mentioned that he was Frank Smith’s son, so do you think that Frank actually raised him?"
Luke nodded as he took a sip out of his sixth cup of coffee for the day. "He has Frank written all over him. He blew into town with a flashy ring and an attitude a mile high. And, I know that he’s the one who destroyed my bar. Yeah, Frank sent him, but the question is why? It’s no coincidence that he showed up here."
Alexis continued to look confused and concerned. "So why did he show up on your doorstep and why in that condition? What in the world happened to him? Forgive me, I know I sound like an attorney, but I can’t help the way that I think."
Luke smiled and leaned in to kiss Alexis. "And, I wouldn’t have you any other way, darlin’" he said appreciatively as his eyes twinkled back at her. Luke bent forward in his chair, folded his hands together, and stared at the ground. "Ruby and Bobbie watched the television all last night. They said that Frank Smith was killed on his estate and that there’d been some kind of mob coup. The FBI and the National Guard are on the premises, and fires burnt down much of the estate. Frank Smith’s son was listed as missing and presumed dead. Guess the reporters got the wrong information."
Alexis looked around carefully to see if anyone were nearby. "Luke," she said in a hushed voice. "Maybe he’s in danger. It seems like he barely escaped with his life. You’re going to have to notify the authorities about this."
Luke’s face reddened with anger. "I was a little worried about him being kidnapped again, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that the mob might want him dead. He’s just a kid, Alexis." Luke paused as his mind redirected. "But he’s a kid that’s been shot and thrown down the stairs. Somebody definitely wanted him dead." Luke looked into Alexis’ eyes. "As an attorney, who do you recommend that we contact? I want my son to be protected, but I don’t want to lose my control over the situation. He’s my son. I want to make the decisions for his care."
"Which leads to my next question," Alexis stated with some discomfort. "Have you told Laura yet?" Alexis cringed while she waited for Luke’s reply.
"Ah, hell, no, not yet," Luke replied. He rubbed his head with frustration. "I dread it. I truly do."
"Well, I understand where you’re coming from, but she needs to know. She has rights to the boy, too."
"Don’t remind me," Luke intoned wearily. "We haven’t talked in fourteen years, which suits both of us fine. We cross the street to avoid the other one’s shadow, you know? Do you think I should call her before I notify the authorities?"
Alexis nodded. "Probably. Just make up your mind as what you want to do first so you can be your most convincing self. As an attorney, I’d recommend contacting the FBI when you’re ready. They can run interference with the local police department. I’m not sure I’d place my trust in the PCPD."
Luke nodded. "I hear you," he said. Luke jokingly raised his hand with tense fingers aimed at Alexis’ eyes. "You are being hyp-no-tized," he said gravely. "See? I passed the test. I still have the Spencer charm."
"Except now you’re going to be using it on a Cassadine princess," Alexis sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Good luck."
~*~*~*~
Luke and Alexis paused outside of Frankie’s ICU room. It was 10:30 at night, so the lights in the hallway were dimmed, and only a small light was on in the ICU. Luke placed a gently restraining hand on Alexis’ arm. "Wait a second, Alexis," he said firmly as his blue eyes turned serious. "I want to prepare you. He doesn’t look too good. I don’t want you to be shocked or upset."
Alexis’ eyes softened at Luke’s concern for her. "I’ll be okay," she reassured him.
Luke entered the room and stood behind Ruby, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. "How’s he doing?" he asked his aunt. Ruby’s tired eyes looked up at her nephew. "He stirred a bit while you were gone," she said. "He made a few noises. I thought he was in pain, so I called for a nurse. She hasn’t arrived yet."
Luke walked up to his son and smoothed his hand over Frankie’s forehead. He glanced at the cardiac monitor and noticed that the boy’s heart rate seemed to increase slightly as he watched the wavy lines and listened to the beeps. "Uhhh," came the very soft sound coming from his son. Luke glanced back over at Frankie and noticed that a small tear was escaping from the boy’s eye. His heart clenched, and his own eyes teared up in response to signs of his son’s pain. "Ruby?" he asked with desperation tingeing his voice. "Are they coming? Should we call again?" Luke glanced wildly around the room. "I’m going to find someone and bring them right back here," he said angrily. Ruby rose from her hard, plastic chair and stretched as Luke stomped from the room.
"He’s taking this very hard," she said matter-of-factly to Alexis.
"I know," Alexis said softly. She walked over to Frankie’s bed and winced at all of the scars and bruises on his body as well as the drainage tubes, monitor leads, catheters and IV’s. She looked hard at Frankie’s face. "He’s a beautiful boy," she commented to Ruby. "I can see both of his parents in him."
Ruby nodded. "Wait until he wakes up and you catch the sight of his beautiful blue eyes."
"Take my breath away?" Alexis laughed lightly.
"Spencer charm," Ruby confirmed.
"You must know him better than anyone," Alexis observed. "He did live in your establishment for some time. What’s he like?"
Ruby nodded. "I feel like I know him pretty well. Well enough to figure out that he’s a Spencer. Let’s see, he drinks and he likes pretty ladies. Does that sound familiar?" Alexis laughed softly, being careful not to disturb Frankie. "He is a spitfire," Ruby continued. "He has a lot of personality and attitude to match. He’s very intelligent – I can tell. But, he’s sweet, too. Oh," Ruby paused. "Get this. He has one of the thickest New Jersey accents that I’ve ever heard. It’s all ‘dese, dose, dey and dem’," she laughed. "He tried to pass it off that he was from Philadelphia. You should have seen the look on his face when I asked him if he was related to any Spencers in Philadelphia."
Alexis’ face frowned lightly. Sounds like he knew whom the Spencers were, she thought. Maybe that’s why he chose to live with Ruby. What was he up to?
"So do you think he needs an attorney?" Alexis asked bluntly, glad to have a private moment with Ruby.
Ruby chuckled. "This one? Probably. Why? Are you offering?"
"I think so," Alexis replied.
"Mr. Spencer," the nurse protested as Luke dragged her into his son’s room by her elbow. "I’m perfectly capable of walking by myself. Your son was alone for several minutes at the most. The shift is changing, and I was conferring with the previous nurse concerning your son’s care."
"Not quick enough," Luke retorted. "My son is in pain. He needs help. Now."
The nurse walked over to Frankie’s bedside and recorded his vitals. She noticed another tear on the boy’s cheek, and his leg twitched as he barely moaned. "I think you’re right, Mr. Spencer," she said. "He seems to be experiencing some pain. It’s almost time for another dosage of his pain meds. I’ll be back in a minute." Luke watched her as she walked off. "So how long would he have had to wait if I didn’t’ drag her in here?"
Alexis and Ruby looked at each other without commenting. Ruby walked up to Luke and patted and rubbed his back. "You’re tense," she said. "The boy is in good hands. They’ve been taking good care of him. Don’t worry." Luke regarded at his aunt with a hurt look in his eyes and stepped away. He shrugged and placed his hands in his pockets as he stood near Frankie, looking down at the face of the boy that he hoped would survive to become his son again.
~*~*~*~
Next morning…
"I know, I know," Luke grumbled with irritation as he walked down the hospital corridor with Alexis at his side. "I should have called her yesterday. But my way is better. I’ve had five hours of sleep, and now I’m more rested to deal with…whatever." Alexis shook her head at her stubborn fiancé and took his hand in hers.
"Besides," Luke rationalized. "He’s married to her. Let him handle her."
Alexis lifted her hand and pointed. "Stefan’s office is to the right," she said lightly. "He’s usually in his office by 7:30AM." Alexis stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Luke, I’ve never known you to be afraid to talk to someone. What’s up?"
"It’s not fear," Luke replied shortly. "It’s self-preservation. You’re her sister-in-law, you ought to know."
A wicked grin crossed Alexis’ face. "And soon, you’ll be her brother-in-law, my sweet. Just think of all those opportunities to interact - birthday parties, Christmas dinners, and…"
"You are an evil woman," Luke interrupted. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? It’s torture Luke Spencer day."
Alexis rubbed Luke’s back and smiled. "Me?" she asked innocently as she batted her eyes at Luke.
"Okay," Luke exclaimed as he squared his shoulders and cracked his neck. "Here goes nothing." Luke raised his hand to knock on Stefan’s closed office door. It was too early in the morning for the guard-secretary to be at her desk.
Stefan opened the door, and his eyebrows raised with surprise as he looked from Alexis’ to Luke’s faces. "This is a surprise," he intoned. "Come on in," he motioned with a sweeping hand.
Luke and Alexis entered Stefan’s very button-down, executive looking office. Every pen, paper and computer printout was neatly arranged and sorted. Each object gracing the desk or wall was expensive and tastefully selected with nary a horse portrait painting or antique chamber pot in sight. Luke sat down stiffly in a chair in front of Stefan’s desk, and Alexis joined him in the chair beside him.
"Stefan, I know it’s early in the morning to disturb you, but some family issues have come up, and we need your assistance," Alexis stated logically. "It involves Laura and her son." When Stefan’s face registered his alarm, Alexis waved her hand, "No, no, Stefan. Not Nikolas, I’m not referring to Nikolas." Stefan’s face immediately relaxed, and he turned curiously to Luke.
Luke cleared his throat and said, "Yesterday, my son came to my business. He was…hurt – badly. We called the paramedics, and he’s in the pediatric ICU right here in GH. Stefan, it’s Lucky – my son and Laura’s son. We thought that he’d been killed fourteen years ago, but actually, a man named Frank Smith kidnapped him. He is or rather he was the leader of a mob organization located in Atlantic City. The boy was raised by Frank and goes by the nickname of Frankie." Luke sighed and rubbed his nose. "We don’t know a lot. Frank was killed in some type of mob coup, and his son was presumed dead as well, only he showed up in Port Charles with a gunshot wound and other injuries. He almost didn’t make it through surgery last night. So, we’re telling you now because Laura needs to know. I think you understand best how to handle the situation."
What a charmer, Alexis thought. He’s going to slip right through this and leave all of the dirty work to Stefan.
"The boy is here?" Stefan asked incredulously. He shook his head. "Unbelievable," he said softly.
Alexis nodded. "Our sentiments exactly. Will you tell Laura the news?" She sneaked a look at Luke from the corner of her eyes as her mouth turned up slightly.
Stefan continued to look dazed. "Sure, sure," he said quickly as he blinked away his confusion and stood beside his desk. "Take me to the boy, so that I might have an idea of what to tell her."
~*~*~*~
As always, Luke approached his son’s ICU room with a mixture of trepidation and happiness. He was overjoyed that his son was actually alive, not just an anonymous baby Lucky with a small gravestone and a large portrait on an end table in a living room. However, it shattered him a little bit every time he looked at his gravely ill son. What if he lost him a second time? He didn’t know if he could handle it.
Stefan solemnly followed Luke into Frankie’s room, standing at a respectful distance and taking his lead from the other man. Stefan had a beloved son of his own. He knew how his wife’s ex-husband felt. "How is he?" Luke asked softly as he watched the nurse attending to his son.
"The respiratory therapist was in earlier. She tried to wean your son from the respirator, but he’s not ready yet. She’ll be in later this afternoon to try again. He’s not able to breathe on his own at this point."
Luke gulped and nodded slowly. "When is he going to wake up?" he asked in a tight voice.
"He’s being sedated now so that he won’t struggle against the respirator," explained the nurse. "The doctor thinks he’ll wake up soon after he’s breathing on his own."
Luke’s face was tense as he stepped aside and extended his hand toward the bed. "Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, Junior," he stated, introducing his son to Stefan. "Nicknamed Frankie."
Stefan’s face softened with compassion when he looked down at the boy who had so many bruises and scars covering him. He memorized the boy’s face and nodded. "He looks like his mother," he said observantly. His brow creased when he noticed the gunshot wounds, past and present, littering the boy’s body. "What has happened to him?" he asked Luke. "Those wounds…"
Luke nodded and crossed his arms. "The docs said he had some type of serious injury when he was ten or so. He’s missing his spleen and part of one lung as well as some intestines they said. "He had five gunshot wounds and apparently suffered a knife attack. I want answers, too, but they’ll have to wait until he wakes up."
Stefan continued to look at Frankie for several minutes, wondering how Laura would take the news. It would be shock enough to hear that her son was alive, but the boy was so still and lifeless with the machine breathing for him and the medical equipment dominating his body. He stroked his chin thoughtfully and then turned to Luke. "I am sorry," he said. "I know this must be devastating. I will return to Wyndemere and bring Laura here."
Luke’s face relaxed, and his eyes creased at the corners as he smiled. "Thanks," he said appreciatively.
~*~*~*~
"Hello?"
"This is Ruby Spencer calling. Is this Maxie?"
"Ms. Spencer. Hi. Yes, it’s Maxie." Maxie cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder as she stuffed her books into her backpack to prepare for school.
"Hon, I have some news for you. It’s about Frankie."
Maxie picked up on Ruby’s tone of voice and grew solemn. "What is it?" she asked softly.
"Frankie is back in Port Charles now, but he had an accident. He’s in the hospital now. I wanted to call you, sweetie, so that you’d know where he is and why he couldn’t pick you up on Saturday night."
"What happened?" Maxie asked. She sniffed as the tears began to build in her eyes.
"Well, we don’t know right now," Ruby stated. "We do know that he hurt his kidney real bad and had to have surgery. He’s in the ICU, and we’re hoping for the best. Do you want me to call you later this afternoon with an update?"
"Yes. Please," said Maxie in a dazed voice. "I want to know if he’s all right."
Maxie hung up the phone and stared at it in shock. The tears ran down her cheeks and saturated the pretty white blouse that she’d selected for school. "Mom?" she called out tremulously. "MOM!!"
~*~*~*~
Jason’s hand smoothed over the wood surface of Robin’s top dresser drawer. It was locked, but he was considering how to open it without it being obvious that it was broken into. He grabbed a nail file that was resting on top of the dresser and applied it vigorously to the lock while he swore under his breath. "AH!" he said tensely as he victoriously unlocked the drawer. Jason’s long fingers slipped under the drawer, cautiously pulling it out so that he could inspect the treasures within.
His fingers ran lightly over the assorted lipsticks, compacts and eyeshadows. He opened several lipsticks and held them against his skin to determine which shade looked best. He decided on a bright, happy, cherry red lipstick and ran its waxy surface carefully over his full lips. He smacked his lips together with satisfaction and smiled into the mirror. Not bad, he thought. He wrapped a towel around his hair and reached for Robin’s red robe, pulling it over his muscular, washboard torso and tying the sash tightly. He picked up his supplies and headed for the door.
Once inside the women’s bathroom, Jason relaxed after inspecting under each stall and finding himself alone in the room. He reached into his paper bag and pulled out a can of "Maiden Beauty Shaving Cream for Women Only." He spread the thick, pink foam over his two-day stubble, making sure to cover his chin, cheeks and neck. Next, he selected a "Daisy Fresh Shaver" with the sensitive touch and applied it to his neck, nodding with satisfaction at the close shave that it provided. He was almost finished shaving his neck when the thick bathroom door banged open, causing him to jump a few inches off of the floor. His bare toes curled with tension against the cold tile floor.
"Heidi!" said Yvonne with surprise. "Wie Gehts."
Jason’s stomach made a flip-flop. He’d only had two years of French in high school, and his German vocabulary was limited to the afternoons that he’d spent watching Hogan’s Heroes after school as a young kid. Heil Hitler and mach schnell weren’t going to cut it.
Jason smiled sheepishly into the mirror, and his heart stopped when he realized how bizarre he appeared with his bright red lips framed with pink shaving foam, a rather gender bending look for a woman’s dorm. "Hi!" he said in a falsetto voice in his best fake accent. He bent over the sink to hide his face, his eyes darting furtively around the room.
Oh my God, Yvonne thought to herself. She’s shaving her face. How many steroids is this chick taking anyway? Her eyes ran over Heidi’s stooped over body and took in the tall, angular build with the broad shoulders and small hips. Dang. She walked carefully by the "German swimmer" and headed off to the showers. I sure wish they had locks on these showers, she thought nervously. "Have a nice day!" she called out to the swimmer after passing her by.
"Love-ly," said Jason in his best Heidi accent.
Jason’s eyes narrowed menacingly, and his bright red lips turned into a garish slash across his face as he frowned. Whoever set me up - I’m going to find him, I’m going to kill him and then I’m going to place the body in this woman’s restroom – after I dress him up in this robe and put a clay mask on his dead face.
~*~*~*~
Luke sat nervously in the hematologist’s office. Laura hadn’t arrived at GH yet, but the doctor was ready to discuss his preliminary findings concerning Frankie’s bloodwork. Alexis sat beside him for moral support and reached out to hold Luke’s hand.
"You know that your son is still being transfused," the doctor stated.
"Yes," said Luke. "But I’m not sure why. Is he still bleeding?"
"That’s what we’re trying to prevent," the doctor explained. "Your son has a very low platelet count. When his initial bloodwork was completed upon his arrival in the Emergency Room, his platelets were only at a 15,000 count. A normal count would be somewhere in the range of 100,000. He received whole blood because his overall volume was low due to massive hemorrhage into his retroperineal cavity, or in layman’s terms, massive bleeding into his back abdominal cavity due to his ruptured kidney. The trauma surgeon almost lost him due to his inability to stop the hemorrhage. Your son was given platelets, and he is continuing to receive them to help build up his platelet count. His count is still only at 30,000. Now, we believe that he is producing the platelets, it’s just that his body is killing them off as soon as they are created. I’d like to schedule a bone marrow aspiration tomorrow to definitely rule out any problems with platelet production and to determine if he has normal megakaryocytes. However, your son does have autoantibodies to his platelets, which points to a diagnosis of idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura or ITP."
Luke swallowed slowly. "What?" he asked weakly. "That’s a mouthful. I don’t understand." He looked frightened and tightened his hands.
"I know this is a lot to take in," the doctor said sympathetically as he leaned back in his chair. "What this means is that something has gone wrong with your son’s ability to maintain the blood platelets that his body creates. Platelets are necessary for blood clotting. If there is a serious injury such as his gunshot wound, then the blood doesn’t clot properly, and he continues to bleed. The causes of this particular condition are unknown. It’s possible that a viral infection sets off the body’s immune system, and it begins to attack its own platelets. It’s interesting because one treatment for this disorder is splenectomy or removal of the spleen – and he has had his spleen removed previously. Sometimes the liver takes over the function of a missing spleen. After we have a definitive diagnosis following the bone marrow aspiration, and after he’s had more time to heal from his injuries, I’d recommend starting him on prednisone, which suppresses the immune system and stops it from attacking the platelets. Sometimes, we can do a course of prednisone and then remove it, thereby jumpstarting the immune system so that it returns to normal. Spontaneous remission is fairly common in young people, so there’s hope that he’ll recover from this. In the meantime, he’ll need to receive platelets to replace those that his body destroys."
"I think I understand now," Luke commented. "Did you catch this?" he asked Alexis as he expelled a tense breath. "I need a backup here."
~*~*~*~
The respiratory therapist was back in Frankie’s room when Luke and Alexis returned. Ruby was there sitting on a chair watching over Frankie. She smiled at Luke. "They let his sedation wear off, and he’s almost off the respirator now," she said encouragingly. "He’s starting to breathe on his own finally." Luke stood a foot away from Frankie’s bed and watched his son’s face. His expression softened when he watched his son struggle to breathe. The boy’s chest rose and fell unevenly in an uncertain rhythm. He’s a fighter, Luke thought proudly.
Luke turned abruptly when he heard the sound of loud high heels on the grayish beige linoleum floor. A variety of emotions ranging from tension, fear, and uncertainty to happiness and relief registered across his face when he looked into his ex-wife’s eyes. "Laura," he said softly.
Laura’s face was shocked and tense, and she frowned when she saw Luke. "Why didn’t you tell me right away?" she asked angrily. "I had a right to know."
"I realize that," Luke stated in a calm, quiet voice. "It was late last night, and I didn’t want to disturb you."
"Disturb me?" Laura laughed uneasily. Stefan was standing behind his wife and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. She shook off his hand and stepped closer to Luke. Her eyes roamed over his face as hers tightened in anger. She drew back her hand and slapped him soundly on the cheek. "How dare you?" she cried as the tears glistened in her eyes. "Since when have you ever cared about how I felt when we lost our son? Are things any different today than they were fourteen years ago?" she yelled.
"Apparently not," Luke muttered under his breath. Alexis’s eyes met Stefan’s.
"Do you want to see your son or do you want to shout at his father?" Luke asked tensely with a firm expression on his face and his hands on his hips.
Laura huffed and pushed past Luke to walk over to the bed. Her face fell when she saw her son lying so still as he drew in labored breaths. The respiratory therapist looked nervously at Laura, hoping she’d calm down around her critically ill son. Laura’s lips trembled as she reached out a shaking hand touch her son’s face. "Lucky?" she asked tearfully. "Baby? Are you my baby?" Frankie’s face frowned slightly, and Laura let out a loud sob in response to her son’s movement. When she became weak in the knees and started sobbing louder, Stefan walked up behind his wife and pulled her into a hug. "Laura," he said calmly. Laura turned and buried her face into Stefan’s chest, grasping his lapel with her left hand as she continued to sob. Stefan looked worriedly at Frankie and then at the respiratory therapist, who was showing her disapproval of the loud scene.
As Laura continued to cry loudly barely a foot away from Frankie, the boy began to show his distress. He started breathing more rapidly, pulling for air and fighting against the respirator and the tubing that was still in his throat. His face frowned, and his body started twitching, rocking slightly to one side. "Uhhh," he cried softly. The respiratory therapist shot a warning look at Stefan, who pulled Laura away from the bed. "We’re going outside for a moment," he ordered lightly, directing her to the door. As she exited with her husband, still sobbing, her son lay fighting for air on his bed, crying and kicking futilely as the respiratory therapist began giving him more oxygen after another abortive attempt at weaning him from the respirator.