Fallen Angel - TOC

Chapter Fifty-One

8:15PM

Stefan sat at the head of the immense walnut dining room table set with the finest bone china, sterling silver flatware and leaded crystal. Laura was seated at the other end with Lulu's bassinet to one side, and Nikolas on the other.  Nikolas held a hand over his growling, protesting stomach and looked longingly toward the kitchen. Stefan had instructed the servants to wait on the first course until his stepson joined them. Frankie's place was across from Nikolas, and his chair remained empty.

Stefan frowned lightly. "Did you tell Frankie that we eat promptly at 8PM?" he inquired as he looked toward Laura.

Laura folded her burgundy cloth napkin in her lap and pursed her lips while her eyes betrayed her concern. "Yes. We spoke this afternoon. He promised he'd be downstairs on time. I wonder if something's wrong?"

Stefan cleared his throat and directed his attention to Nikolas. "Would you please go to Frankie's suite and ask him to meet us in the dining room? Perhaps he is doing homework and lost track of the time."

Nikolas screwed up his face and sighed but said nothing as he rose from his chair. He pushed the heavy wooden chair to the table and shook his head. Why is he always causing trouble? Can't he do anything without a fuss? I'm starving. He'd better get his butt down here. Nikolas headed for the main staircase and athletically took two steps at a time as he tapped his hand on the smooth, elegantly carved banister. He stopped abruptly when he tripped over a wooden crutch and nearly took a dive. What the heck? He bent over to pick up the object, wondering why it was littered over the stairs. This is dangerous. Someone could trip and fall. He ran his fingers over the smooth wood as his thoughts raced. Frankie is the only one in the house who would need crutches. What is this doing here?

"Frankie?" Nikolas' tentative voice called out as he frowned worriedly. He listened and jumped when he heard a moaning sound one flight above him. Nikolas took off quickly as his breath caught in his throat and his heart raced. "Oh no!" he said when he reached the landing where Frankie's body was lying. The boy was curled up on his side and not moving.

"What happened to you?" Nikolas asked carefully as he knelt beside his brother and shook his shoulder. Frankie moaned again and gritted out, "I fell. Dat's obvious."

"You shouldn't be trying to use those crutches on these stairs," Nikolas said in an admonishing tone.

"Shut up and help me," Frankie ordered in a slurred voice.

Nikolas frowned. He sounds drunk the way he's talking. "Have you been drinking?" he whispered fiercely.

"No shit Sherlock," came the reply.

"Are you hurt? Do you need Dr. Hill?" Nikolas inquired before moving his brother.

"I dunno. I hit my head, so I don't feel so hot."

Nikolas gently pulled Frankie up to a sitting position by looping his hands under his arms. Frankie groaned and held a hand to his aching head. Without warning, he bent over and vomited straight onto Nikolas' pristine, white athletic shoes.

Nikolas jumped back and released Frankie, causing the boy to drop back onto the landing. "Oh man! Gross!" he exclaimed angrily while glaring down at his dripping shoes. "Why'd you have to do that?" His temper flared when he heard Frankie laugh drunkenly. "You're determined to get me in trouble! I'm going to drag your sorry butt back to the room. And shut up so no one becomes suspicious." Nikolas pulled Frankie from under his armpits, bumping him on his back as he dragged the boy bodily up the stairs. Frankie gave no resistance and laughed wickedly. "I'm gettin' sick again, Nikky," he warned in a happy, singsong voice.

"Not on me," Nikolas sputtered as he looked down at his soiled shoes. "Put a cork in it."

~*~*~*~

"Frankie?" Dr. Hill entered Frankie's suite as he was concerned after Nikolas' elaborate explanation regarding Frankie's condition. Something was off, and he didn't trust that all was well with the boy.

Frankie was huddled over the toilet, retching repeatedly yet grateful that Nikolas had deposited him in the correct location. Back at the mansion, and even in Ruby's rented room, he'd been no stranger to "porcelain god worship." He couldn't seem to drink just the right amount to get high and stay high. He always seemed to push it over the edge, but this was worse. Just minutes ago, he'd nearly passed out and banged his chin on the bowl. He felt weirder by the second and slumped down onto the floor with a groan.

"What's going on?" Dr. Hill asked when he saw Frankie lying on the floor in front of the toilet looking a whiter shade of pale.

Frankie blearily raised his head with squinty eyes and then promptly let it fall back onto the hard, tile surface, yelping when he cracked it on the same spot as on the stairway. "Hi, Dr. Jerrr--ry," he slurred with a twitching grin spreading across his face. He frowned promptly when his stomach cramped again. "Aw, not again," he complained as he crawled back up into a sitting position and heaved mightily. He flushed the toilet and tried to stand, but slid down into a sloppy sitting position leaning against the glass-doored shower. He rubbed the hard knot on his head, just above and behind his ear. "Ouch."

Dr. Hill watched Frankie and frowned with his hands held on his hips as his quick mind put two and two together. "How much did you have to drink?" he asked sternly.

"What?" Frankie protested. "Wha-atcha talkin' about?"

"You're drunk, that's obvious. You have narcotics in your system, and I need to know what you've been drinking. It's important."

"Okay," Frankie breathed out in a partial concession to the doctor's logic. "S'there," he pointed to the toilet tank with a wavering hand. He slid all the way down the length of the shower door and laid his head on the floor with his eyes closed.

Dr. Hill removed the lid to the toilet tank and harrumphed when he reached into the water to remove the dripping vodka bottle with only a small fraction of its contents left. "How much?" he repeated as he bent over to shake Frankie's shoulder.

Frankie made a motion with his hands to indicate a few inches worth and laughed delightedly before he stopped to moan with a sick look on his face.

"Your brother said you hit your head."

"Yeah, yeah. On da stairs. Hurts right here."

Dr. Hill knelt in front of Frankie and ran his fingers through his hair to feel the knot. "Yep. You managed to give yourself a good bump on the head and maybe a mild concussion." His expression turned serious. "Where did you get the booze?"

Frankie shrugged. "Not giving my source away," he said imperiously. "S'important."

Feeling like he was close to a revelation, Dr. Hill pushed harder. "How long have you been drinking? And I want the truth, no made-up stories."

"Awww," Frankie protested as he screwed up his face and blinked at the doctor. "Lights hurt." He held his hand over his eyes to shield them.

"How long?" Dr. Hill repeated firmly.

"Oh, I dunno. Long time. Um, thir-rrteen years? Whenever I was walking?" Frankie cracked up. "I'm a shh...child prodigy. Dat's wha' Frank said. I do it early."

"Your father Frank knew about this?"

"Hell, yeah. I was funny. I made da cus-stomers laugh in da casinos. Da thirsty munchkin - Frank called me dat." Frankie's face fell. "Back when he liked me."

"Did you drink every day?"

"Only da beer. I had my own supply ya know. But da liquor only sometimes at da events. I had a har-rrd time with dat - like dis fuckin' vodka. I like beer. Johnny knows dat."

Dr. Hill remained silent with a sad look on his face as he regarded Frankie's slight body. Of course he'd have trouble with liquor. He's too small to metabolize it well.

Frankie moaned again and said, "Everything's dark," as he landed face first onto the floor.

~*~*~*~

"Hand me that spackle over there," Luke instructed Sly. Luke was standing on plastic sheeting in Sly's new bedroom wearing an old, ragged blue sweatshirt and frayed, paint splattered jeans with a black, cloth sports cap to protect his hair. He was sealing up small holes in the wallboard before painting the room in the blue shade that Sly had selected. He accepted the spackle and opened the lid as he looked closely at Sly. "I thought you were crazy about green. Why did you choose blue for the room color?"

Sly shrugged and ran a hand through his silky blond hair. "I still like green, but that's my room at Aunt Bobbie's. I wanted something new here. Nature is cool, and this reminds me of the sky."

Luke nodded approvingly. "That's a good choice, then." He paused and looked Sly directly in the eye. "Tomorrow is the court date. Your adoption will be official then. Are you ready?"

Sly grinned and shyly glanced away. "Yes. I'm ready. I've been ready for awhile now."

"Me, too," Luke agreed. "And Alexis was ecstatic when you called her 'Mom' yesterday. She loves you, kiddo."

"She's a great mom," Sly stated. "I'm glad I made her happy."

"So, tomorrow, we're on for you calling me Dad, right?" Luke inquired carefully. He'd noticed that Sly had held back on that term, and now that Frankie had cleared that hurdle, he was anxious for his other son to acknowledge him, too.

Sly nodded. "After court tomorrow, you're officially my dad, Uncle Luke."

Luke cracked up and laid down the can of spackle. "You and Frankie both have great senses of humor. Come here and give your old man a hug. I'm fresh out."  Luke hugged Sly tightly and ruffled his hair before punching him in the shoulder. "Frankie's room is next on our list. Why don't you ask him what color he wants since we'll paint his room soon. Oh! And remember, you'll be staying at Wyndemere tomorrow while Alexis and I are working. I'll pick you up at dinnertime. All of your homework had better be finished by then. No clowning around all day. You have a fine mind, and I want you to put it to good use. Laura is setting up a separate desk area for you in the study."

"Wonder what they'll have me reading for gym?" Sly asked peevishly. "'The History of Horseshoe Throwing' or 'The Science of Dribbling'?"

"I have no sympathy for you," Luke stated. "You got yourself into this mess. You're grounded for the entire two week period. Don't forget that. No phone calls to Miss Emily, either."

Sly sighed deeply. "You're taking this dad thing too seriously."

"Dad or Uncle, you're grounded," Luke retorted. "By me!"

"Okay," Sly said reluctantly. "When are we moving in here?" he asked, changing the subject so he wouldn't become depressed by focusing on his punishment.

"Soon," Luke replied. "Maybe two weeks. If you help me in the evenings, I think we can have the house patched up and painted where necessary. It's a lot easier to paint with no furniture to move. So we're taking advantage of it." Luke dusted his hands off and tried to determine if Sly was unhappy with the current arrangements. "Are you okay with staying at Bobbie's for awhile longer? She loves having you."

Sly shrugged. "It's all right. She kind of watches over me like a hawk, but that's because Lucas is with his dad right now. I think she's just used to telling someone what to do, and I'm the only kid around."

Luke laughed. "Sounds like the Barbara Jean I know and love."

"It's okay," Sly conceded. "I know you need some time to be with Alexis since you just were married. I don't want to cramp your style."

"My style?" Luke asked with bemusement.

"You know, getting used to living together, having fun."

Luke rubbed his lips together as he thought. These kids miss absolutely nothing. We'll have to remember that we're living in a fishbowl with two teenaged boys.

~*~*~*~

"Um, Mother? Father? Frankie is still upstairs. He's not feeling well. Must be something he had for lunch. He threw up all over the place." Nikolas shrugged as he shuffled his newly shoed feet and stared at the floor.

"What?" Laura looked up with a startled expression as she tore her gaze away from the baby.

"What's wrong with Frankie?" Stefan asked for clarification. He rose from the table and approached his son. Nikolas had a sheepish look on his face that Stefan didn't like. Something was amiss.

"How am I supposed to know?" Nikolas protested nervously. "He wasn't feeling well. That's all. He won't be down to dinner."

Laura stood from the table with the baby slung on her hip. "Let's go check on him," she said as she met Stefan's alert, green eyes. Stefan nodded and led the way to Frankie's suite.

Nikolas looked at the empty table and sighed. "I'm hungry," he said aloud to an empty room as he headed for the kitchen to persuade Cook to make him a sandwich. After that, he was going to call Athena on his cell phone. It was time for the plan to unfold.

~*~*~*~

Maxie was seated on her bed. Her latest romance novel was folded open yet unread as she couldn't concentrate on the words since the tears built up in her eyes on a nearly continual basis. Her mom and Mac had given her some space after driving her home from school. The principal hadn't made her go back to class, and that was better than nothing. However, Felicia had entered her room after dinner and mentioned that there would be a family conference at 8:30 - minus Georgie of course. Maxie wondered what they were going to do to her. She wasn't supposed to see Frankie, and now the accidental tape had surfaced and caught her in the act. She'd really been surprised that Mac hadn't blown his stack. He'd said a few tense words in the principal's office but hadn't lost his temper outright. Was that a good or a bad thing? Her mom had seemed disappointed more than anything.

And Frankie...

Frankie had seemed so sincere back at the school, almost as if he were hurting as badly as she was with the display of the tape. She recalled his frequent glances in her direction with a solicitous expression on his face. Frankie probably thought that she wasn't looking at him, but she'd observed him surreptitiously from underneath her eyelashes and in her peripheral vision. He seemed to have a magnetic pull on her, as sure as the effects of the moon on the tides. Maxie lightly brushed her lips with her fingers as she felt the soft caress of Frankie's lips moving insistently, seeking her embrace with a growing passion that flamed like a hot ember not yet ignited into a fire. She drew her arms around her midriff and shivered. I can't stay away from him. It's impossible, and I don't want to anyway. A ball of excitement grew in her stomach in a pleasing way, as if her secret love for Frankie made it even more special, a topic that was constantly on her mind.

At age fifteen, Maxie wasn't as experienced as she'd led others to believe. She'd only kissed two boys other than Frankie and hadn't had a steady boyfriend to go out with on dates. All of this was new. Much like her, the other boys had been clumsy, as if it were their first time kissing. They were barely able to aim right and connect lips with lips let alone move them with any assurance. Maxie's face scrunched up as she remembered the yucky kisses that had made her wonder what all the fuss was about. Why was everyone so into this kissing stuff? But Frankie knew what he was doing, that's for sure. Maxie frowned lightly as she held an index finger to her lips. I wonder where he learned how to do it? The thought of Frankie kissing someone else sent a dart of jealousy through her. Maybe it was better not to think about it.

"Maxie!" Georgie's intense whisper cut through Maxie's reverie. Georgie's face was beaming with a secret, and she seemed to glow as she looked at her older sister.

"What?" Maxie asked with a trace of annoyance.

Georgie let herself into the room and lightly shut the door. "Something was delivered to the house. I signed for it before Mom and Mac heard the doorbell. They don't know."

"So?"

"It's for you. I bet it's from Frankie."

Maxie's eyes brightened, and she perked up instantly. "Well, what is it?"

Georgie opened the door and bent down as she reached into the hallway. "These!" she whispered in awe.

"Ohmigosh!" Maxie exclaimed loudly as she bounced up from her bed. "Shut the door, shut the door," she whispered hurriedly while waving her hands. Once the door was safely shut, Maxie eagerly reached for the bouquet. The dozen roses had a glass vase with bright, crème colored ribbons tied to it. Maxie smiled brightly at their soft, luscious pink color, so delicate and pure. Her fingers caressed their silky texture, and she sighed deeply when she breathed in their heady fragrance. "Perfect," she said softly. "They're beautiful." She fingered the small card that accompanied the flowers and frowned when she saw the written message. "Lucas? Oh!" Maxie laughed and shook her head. She remembered that Lucas was Frankie's real name. The words "Yours Always," burned brightly in her heart.

"Frankie is a nice boyfriend," Georgie added with approval. She placed her hands into her jeans pockets as her face grew serious. "I don't think Mom and Mac are right to forbid you to see him. They're wrong. He's a nice guy. I want a boyfriend like him when I'm your age."

Maxie looked into her little sister's bright, intense eyes and said, "Thanks. Georgie. You're a good sister."

Georgie nodded in agreement. "I know."

Maxie snickered at Georgie's reply. "Where can I keep these?" she wondered aloud.

"On that short table," Georgie said suddenly. "Put it by the closet and place the hamper in front of it. You'll be able to see it when you're on the bed, but no one else will if they walk into the room."

"Brilliant!" Maxie exclaimed as she hurriedly followed her sister's instructions. "You're smart."

"That's what I keep telling you," Georgie sighed knowingly. She perked her ears up, and whispered fiercely with a finger to her lips, "Shhh...they're coming."

There was a light knock at the door, and Felicia stuck her head in. "Georgie, will you give us some privacy? Mac and I need to talk to Maxie."

~*~*~*~

"You and Frankie didn't talk much in the car," Luke observed as he drove Sly back to Bobbie's. "Are you still upset with him?"

"Not really. I was angry, but not so much now. I've cooled down," Sly replied. "Plus my eye opened up again. So it's not as bad as I thought it was. I wish Frankie wasn't mad and upset all the time, though. He's hard to be around sometimes."

Luke nodded as he braked at a light. "Frankie is adjusting to having a new family, just like you. Maybe you can cut him some slack. He was raised differently. What was okay with Frank isn't okay with us. He's learning."

Sly looked down at his folded hands with a slight frown. "Some things worry me."

"What?"

"What if Frankie is responsible for killing my aunt and uncle - and Bill?"

Luke remained silent for a moment to process Sly's words and to formulate a suitable answer. He'd wondered the same thing and wasn't surprised to see it rumbling around Sly's brain as well.

"What we know is that Frankie worked for the organization that ordered Bill's and your aunt and uncle's deaths. But, what we also know is that Frankie was kidnapped and essentially held prisoner for most of his life. He did what he was told or he paid for it. He had no choice but to join that organization. Other than that, we don’t know any facts. Maybe it's better that way."

Sly didn't answer, but appeared deep in thought as he stared out the window at the passing scenery. "If Frankie did have Bill killed, then he killed his own uncle. That's creepy."

"You've had two years to grieve Bill's death," Luke reminded Sly. "Frankie has only had a few weeks to grieve Frank. We should give him some space and not bombard him with questions too soon. He needs time to heal. If he's feeling better in the future and willing to talk about it, we might find some answers then."

~*~*~*~

"Thank goodness," Dr. Hill exclaimed when Laura and Stefan entered Frankie's suite. "I need some medical supplies, but someone has to stay with him."

Laura had left Lulu in the nursery and was free to run over to Frankie. "What happened?" she asked fearfully. Stefan frowned at the sight of Frankie lying passed out on his bed with the doctor trying to revive him by placing a cold washcloth on his forehead.

"Keep trying to wake him up," Dr. Hill suggested as he walked to the door. "If he starts vomiting, keep him on his side. I'll be back in a minute and will explain then."

"What in the world?" Laura exclaimed as she sat down on the bed and shook Frankie's leg.

"Frankie," Stefan stated repeatedly in an authoritative loud voice, but the boy didn't stir or wake up.

~*~*~*~

"We need to talk," Felicia stated firmly.

Maxie looked back and forth from her mom and Mac's stern faces as she gulped. I have to get them out of this room. I can smell those gorgeous roses. "Okay," she sighed. "Can we talk in the kitchen? I've been holed up in here too long."

Mac looked at Felicia and shrugged. "Sure."

Once they were seated around the kitchen table and the door closed for privacy, Felicia initiated the dreaded conversation. "Maxie, you were forbidden to see Frankie Spencer.

"Smith," Mac muttered darkly. Felicia shot him a dirty look that reminded Mac they'd agreed to let that point drop. Mac sighed and sat up higher in his seat as he folded his hands and tried to be reasonable considering the circumstances.

"We didn't see the tape," Felicia continued worriedly.

"Spencer Junior saw to that," Mac added. He caught Felicia's look and closed his mouth, deciding to allow her to handle the situation as he wasn't able to keep the smart comments from flowing.

"But, by your reaction, I can tell that you were embarrassed. That concerns us. Not only are you seeing this boy behind our backs, but you're engaging in behavior that you're ashamed of."

"I am not ashamed!" Maxie protested fiercely as the color rose in her cheeks.

"Embarrassment was what I saw in the principal's office," Felicia insisted.

"I was unhappy because a whole gym full of geeky guys saw me kissing Frankie. Would you want an audience if you were kissing?" Maxie's brows knit together as she looked hard at her mother, daring her to refute the obvious.

Felicia cleared her throat and attempted to take control of the conversation again. "The main issue is your disobedience. You did exactly what we told you not to do."

Maxie's eyes filled with tears. "But I love Frankie! What's wrong with that? I thought we were supposed to love people, not hate them."

"Let's focus on your behavior, not abstract moral philosophy," Felicia laughed. "You're not getting off that easily."

Maxie's face set hard, and she crossed her arms. "So you're going to punish me."

Felicia glanced at Mac, recalling their private conversation and shared decision. She'd had to talk him down quite a bit after the session with the principal. "We've come to a decision concerning this incident."

Maxie's heart skipped a beat as that sounded a bit ominous. What would they do to her?

"We've decided that you will be grounded for two weeks. No phone calls, no visits with friends. You'll go to school and return home immediately. Your chores around the house will be increased as well."

"Shit," Maxie muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Mac asked.

"Nothing," Maxie replied hotly.

"There's one other issue," Felicia stated as her face turned serious, and she folded her hands on the table. "We're not totally heartless. Mac and I remember what it was like to be teenagers and in love. We're not saying that you don't have any feelings for this boy. It's apparent that you do. We talked about it quite a bit and have a compromise to offer you."

Maxie focused intently on her mothers words and wondered what in the world she meant.

"Frankie hasn't been in his new home long," Felicia observed. "He has a lot of adjustments I'm sure. We're aware that he was kidnapped, so we don't blame him for his upbringing."

Yeah, right, Mac thought. Once a hood, always a hood.

"Since you'll be going to school together, it's okay if you talk to him or have lunch with him. However, we want you to wait to have a relationship with him outside of school. If you'll wait for six months so that Frankie has time to get settled, we can revisit the issue then. If he has behaved respectably and hasn't gotten into trouble, then we might consider allowing you to date him. But if you go behind our backs before then, the deal is off. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Maxie replied. "But it's still unfair. Why six months? That's an eternity. I'll be sixteen then."

"Not exactly old and gray," Mac commented.

"It's a grace period, a time in which you two can prove to us that you're mature enough to date and handle yourselves properly."

"We haven't done anything wrong!" Maxie insisted angrily. She pouted and shot an angry glance at Mac. "Since when is it against the law to kiss someone?"

"I think we're being very fair to even consider allowing you to date Frankie," Felicia countered. "The only reason we're doing this is because it was obvious that he cared for you by his behavior in the principal's office. He didn't know about the tape either." 

"Sly is the one who did that," Maxie said.

"And he's being punished for his role in that escapade," Mac replied. "This discussion is about you."

"Yeah," Maxie sputtered. "Lucky me."

"Losing the attitude would convince us of your supposed maturity," Felicia observed. "Why don't you work with us?"

"Can I email him?" Maxie inserted.

Mac and Felicia looked at each other, and Mac shrugged. "As long as it doesn't interfere with your schoolwork or get out of hand, that would be fine," Felicia said. "One other item that's important for us to discuss is how quickly you've rushed into a physical relationship with this boy. We want you to be safe."

Maxie turned red with embarrassment. "I talk to Robin about that," she said quietly. "She reminds me all the time. I know how to take care of myself. Besides I'm not ready yet."

Thank you, Robin," Mac thought.

~*~*~*~

"What's that?" Stefan asked curiously when Dr. Hill brandished a syringe and rubbed alcohol over Frankie's arm.

"Naloxone. It's an anti-narcotic and should remove the effects of the pain medication from his blood."

"Why does he need that?" Stefan inquired seriously.

"He mixed narcotics and alcohol and took a fall. He hit his head. It's a dangerous situation, and we need him to be awake." Dr. Hill injected Frankie with the drug while his worried mother and stepfather watched.

"He won't respond," Stefan said. "We tried."

"This drug should take effect quickly," Dr. Hill explained. "He'll wake soon - in about ten minutes. He wasn't drunk enough to pass out from the alcohol alone."

"Alcohol?" Laura whispered in disbelief.

"I believe your son is an alcoholic," Dr. Hill stated.  "He told me he's been drinking for almost his entire life."

~*~*~*~

Johnny quietly walked up behind Bobbie, who was preoccupied with talking on the phone. He stealthily wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close to him as he nuzzled her neck.

"Ah!" Bobbie called out as she giggled. "I'm being attacked in the kitchen."

"In that case, I'd better let you go," Ruby stated with amusement. "I wouldn't want to interfere with your lovelife. Tell Johnny I said hi."

"I will," Bobbie promised. "So all of the arrangements are set for tomorrow night? Super. Love you, too."

Bobbie hung up the phone and sighed as she turned around to drape her arms over Johnny's broad shoulders. She gave him a light kiss and smiled. "It's all set. Everything okay on your end?"

Johnny nodded. "It's a go. I can't wait for tomorrow."

Bobbie took Johnny's hand and led him to the round, oak kitchen table. "Sit down for a sec. I'll make you a cup of coffee. You look beat. How was your day?"

"You take good care of me," Johnny smiled. "Thanks for being wonderful."

"Only for you," Bobbie tittered as she turned on the coffeemaker.

Johnny sighed, ran a hand through his hair and stretched his muscles. "I've been at the hospital all day. Wow. I'm tired."

"How'd it go?"

"In less than a year, I'll be a paramedic," Johnny said proudly. "My life's dream. It's going to happen. They accepted the credits from my courses all those years ago."

Bobbie bent down to kiss him soundly on the lips as she sat in his lap. "I am so proud of you! That's perfect. When do you start classes again?"

"Next month," Johnny replied. "I guess I'll actually have to find a new place to live. Port Charles is going to be home."

"You betcha!" Bobbie smiled brightly. "Wherever you live, it had better be close to me."

Johnny placed his hands on Bobbie's waist and moved in for a long, deep kiss that lasted for delicious minutes. His eyes softened when he gazed at her. "Close by you is the only place I want to be."

~*~*~*~

Frankie stirred restlessly on his bed and was surprised when he opened his eyes to the sight of his mother and Stefan staring at him with worried expressions on their faces. He ran his hand repeatedly over his eyes, and then placed it over his stomach as it rolled and threatened in a queasy manner.

His eyes focused on the doctor. "Dr. Jerry?" he asked softly. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Let's get you up," Dr. Hill stated as he and Stefan pulled Frankie up by the arms. "Those who play must pay," Jerry stated firmly as he helped Frankie toward the bathroom.

Frankie laughed briefly before he said "Uh-oh."

Stefan walked up to Laura and raised his eyebrows at her when they heard the sound of violent retching. Laura frowned and looked sad. She was grateful when Stefan pulled her into a hug. Dr. Hill joined them after he decided that Frankie could take care of himself.

"Do you have any family history of alcoholism?" he questioned Laura.

She shook her head slowly. "No, we don't. No one's had that problem." A light flickered in her eyes, though, as her thoughts roamed to her ex-husband. "Luke does, though. I remember him telling me about how his father was an angry drunk and used to beat on him when he was a kid. Luke always drank a lot, but I think it was out of choice. It's not like he needed to or anything. He'd drink when he was upset or depressed." She cleared her throat and looked nervously at Stefan, who seemed to hang on her every word. "He drank a lot after we thought Frankie had died - to avoid facing the tragedy. It's partly why we broke up." Laura clamped her lips together tightly as she realized she was starting to run her mouth too much. Stefan hugged her shoulder, and she smiled, grateful that he didn't seem to be bothered by her idiosyncrasies or past history.

"That's helpful to know," Dr. Hill stated. "It confirms my suspicions. His upbringing and lifestyle are primarily responsible for this problem, but he may have the genetic component that makes it easier for him to lose control or feel like he needs alcohol to cope. He's a very smart boy. I'll speak with him when he's feeling better tomorrow and educate him on the fact that alcohol is a drug. Depending on how he responds, we'll see what we need to do from there."

Stefan nodded slowly. "We serve wine for dinner every evening. Should we discontinue that tradition?"

Dr. Hill nodded. "It would be for the best. He may or may not be able to control his drinking, but at his age, he's still growing and needs calories from food, not alcohol."

Frankie stumbled out of the bathroom with a hand to his pale forehead. "Ohhh," he complained. "I'm gonna have da hangover from hell tomorrow. Dat's okay. It'll make me mean. Mean is good for tomorrow."

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