Chapter Fifty-Nine

Live everyday like it's your last; one day you will be right! - Frank Sinatra

Athena's eyes widened as she stared at her lover. She couldn't believe her ears. Nikolas was proposing to her. He wanted to get married. She looked down into his earnest brown eyes and felt exposed, sitting up in bed naked and clutching a sheet to her chest. "Let me throw something on," she said softly as she turned to open the dresser drawer next to the bed. She nervously rifled through the neatly folded items until she found a suitable negligee. Slipping the silky, midnight blue garment over her head, she rose from the bed and flipped her long, black curls over her shoulders. Nikolas was now sitting on the edge of the bed with a small, black box in his hands, and Athena sat down beside him.

Nikolas looked into Athena's large, doe-like eyes with more uncertainty than when he'd asked her the question a minute earlier. He pressed the velvet covered box into her hand, urging it on her by cupping her fingers around it and phrasing his question differently. "Will you be my wife?" he asked in a small voice. Nikolas had expected Athena to react with more excitement - a squeal, a quick hug, a bounce on the bed, anything but the calm front that she presented him. "I love you," he added tenderly as his eyes blinked rapidly, brushing his long black eyelashes against his cheeks.

Although he certainly possessed the well-muscled physique and cultured voice of a man, Athena noted that he seemed like a scolded boy sitting there with his shoulders slumped and a face that looked like it might cry with the possibility of her rejection. He'd always been so self-assured and confident in all of their previous interactions - almost cocky with athletic pride and sexy manliness. Why hadn't she seen this side of him until now? Her long, slender fingers opened the box hesitantly, and she gasped when she saw the gorgeous diamond ring that nestled in its interior. It was a several carat yellow diamond in an emerald cut, looking like the family heirloom that it probably was.

"Nikolas," Athena whispered as she glanced back and forth from the ring to Nikolas' eager face. She instinctively reached out to hug him in appreciation for his elegant, extravagant display of love and devotion. She kissed him on the cheek and shut the box. Her green eyes turned serious as she looked into his brown, almond shaped eyes. She stroked the bangs from his forehead and smiled. "I care about you, Nikolas, you know I do." Athena took his hand into hers. "But we're only seventeen. Isn't this too soon for us? You're still in high school, and I start the university in several months. How can this work?"

Nikolas face tensed as he took the black velvet box away from Athena. He opened it and ran his index finger over the long, smooth surface of the diamond. "I love you," he said in a small voice near tears. "I want us to be together - always. I don't want to be separated like we were with you on the Island. I want to wake up to you every morning. Maybe I can join you at the university."

Nikolas rose from the bed with anger. "Then why are we sleeping together?" he asked harshly with flaming eyes. He waved his hands around the room. "What is this? Playing house? I'm serious. I've always been serious about you. Why won't you marry me? I'm not good enough for you? So you want to meet a real prince at Cambridge? Prince Harry perhaps?" He slammed the box down on the nightstand and turned away from Athena with his arms crossed over his broad, bare chest.

Athena rose from the bed, too, and approached Nikolas, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her face against his back. "I didn't say no," she explained. "I just can't answer your question now. I feel too young to marry. I sleep with you because I love you." She turned him around to face her, placing a finger over his full lips. "Plus you're irresistible. I must have you." Athena tiptoed to lean in and kiss him on the mouth. "I'm so flattered that you want to be with me forever." Her eyes took on an impish gleam. "Besides, Prince Harry is too awkward and not handsome in my book. He can't hold a candle to you. And, I hear his grandmother is a real beast."

Athena shook her head at his dark humor. "Can we discuss this in a few years?" she asked with wide eyes.

Nikolas' cheeks colored as he hadn't resolved his hurt, angry feelings over her gentle denial of his wishes. He shrugged and reached for his pants. "I'm going out," he stated firmly. "I need to think."

Nikolas shook off her touch and turned away. "I'll be back in an hour or two," he stated with a heavy voice. Athena watched him march out the door and sighed as she sat back on the bed. She shook her head and stared at the floor. What is going on with him? Why can't things remain as they are? I thought we were happy.

Sly donned a pair of leather work gloves that were hanging on a hook by Sheba's stall. He brandished a pitchfork and entered the hay strewn area. Sheba was placed in the adjoining stall so he could clean out the main one, and she eyed him curiously with her huge brown eyes. Sly frowned as she seemed to be laughing at him; he could tell even though he didn't hear a whinny from her direction. How could Nikolas stand this? I know they have servants, but he took care of

Sheba

on his own. I wonder if she misses him and vice versa. He turned toward Sheba. "You'll have to make do with me, sweet pea," he said with a quirky smile. I know I'm not as handsome as Nikolas, but I'm not dog meat either." Sly bent over to hoist a "pony patty" out of the stall and wrinkled his nose at its abundantly fragrant properties. Horses sure must eat a lot to make doo-doos this big. "You're not too delicate, are you? You just go wherever and whenever it pleases you. Don't expect me to bring you flowers and candy next time I come," Sly joked.

"Do I have some competition?" Emily's voice floated through the stable, and Sly blushed at being caught flirting with a horse.

"Oooh, now I know why Quartermaines don't keep animals on the estate," Emily complained with a finger and thumb pinching her nose. "Wow, she's a load."

"You're not the one moving the load around," Sly pointed out. "I'm almost done. They keep the stalls pretty clean. Still, I wonder if she does miss Nikolas. He seemed devoted to her."

"I wonder why he ran away from home. He seemed to have a good setup here. Anything a guy could want. Was he jealous of his new baby sister?"

"Hard to say. I don't think so. It has more to do with Frankie probably. They didn't get along, and Frankie was blackmailing him. I'm not sure about his parents. They seem nice, but Nikolas never talked about them."

Emily lazily fingered the stitching on the tan leather saddle that was hung up on the wall. "When are you going to be done?" she asked curiously. When Sly looked up, he saw the mischievous expression in her big, brown eyes.

"Come here, darling," he said in a teasing voice as he approached her with his poop splattered gloves grasping at her. "Want a patty?"

"No!" Emily shrieked as she dodged and bobbed away from Sly and his marauding, steamy gloves.

Sly stopped and clapped his gloves together as he laughed. "I'll only be a minute," he promised. "Then, I'll wash up in the sink. Hey, why don't you check out what I brought for us? It's on the other side of the barn in a less fragrant area. It only smells like fresh hay over there."

"Okay," Emily said brightly as she skipped over to the far wall. "Ohmigosh," her voice echoed. Sly's lips turned up into a lazy smile. She likes it. "Is all of this for us?" she asked happily.

Emily knelt on the floor and spread her fingers over the smooth tablecloth. "A secret picnic. I like it!" Sly had pinched an outdoor tablecloth from the kitchen's linen closet and had placed some snacks and drinks in a basket. He'd picked several flowers from the abundant Wyndemere gardens and had placed them in a drinking glass full of water. Their violet, green and yellow hues blended into a perfect bouquet.

Sly rounded the corner with a towel wiping off his hands and arms. "All clean and fresh now," he said in a lilting voice. His eyes softened at the sight of Emily. "I'm glad you could come," he said. "I couldn't stand another day without seeing you. I miss you. You're my best buddy and my best girl." He collapsed on the tablecloth and reached for a can of soda pop. "Gourmet all the way. I have some big cookies, too." He handed a packet of chocolate chip cookies to Emily.

The two teens munched contentedly, casting the occasional glance at one another and feeling embarrassed when caught looking in the other's direction. Sly impulsively leaned forward and placed a surprise kiss on Emily's lips. He smiled devilishly and winked at her. "Had to break the ice," he said. He raised an eyebrow. "Besides, we were getting out of practice."

Emily broke out into a broad smile. "That kiss was wonderful, but it wasn't perfect. Maybe you can try again." She squealed when Sly launched himself in her direction and dramatically kissed her neck. "How's that?"

Sly picked up a piece of hay and slid it up under her teeshirt, tickling her mercilessly. "More you say?"

"Sllyyyy!" Emily shrieked with her voice echoing through the barn. Sheba neighed in response from her stall yards away.

"You're disturbing the horse," Sly whispered in her ear as he nibbled at her earlobe.

"You've been talking to Frankie, I know it," Emily laughed. "You're getting good at this."

"How do you like your hamburger?" Luke asked Frankie. He set his own burger down on his plate and wiped off his hands with a napkin. Frankie had been unusually quiet since Luke had shown up for their shared dinner, not his usual wordy self. Luke was starting to wish his son would at least show some of his famous temper.

"Tastes good," Frankie commented halfheartedly as he slowly chewed. His eyes darted in Luke's direction and then remained lowered.

"You're just like your old man," Luke replied. "Lover of junk food. I never met a vegetable I liked."

"Got that right," Luke agreed. "Sly is in our corner on this issue as well. Must be genetic."

"Do I look like you?" Frankie asked out of the blue. He frowned and folded his hands on the table. "Sly looks more like you." He cleared his throat and turned away from Luke. "He's taller dan me," he said in a strained voice while he pulled at the tablecloth and rolled the ends between his fingers, not looking directly at his father.

"Sly's father Bill was my half-brother. We looked quite similar, so it makes sense if Sly looks like his natural father, he'd resemble me in some ways," Luke explained carefully. "I'd say you look half like me, and half like your mother, and that's a good thing." Luke fluffed his hair and laughed. "I don't know about me, but your mother is nice looking. She's not tall, either, so perhaps you'll be an in-between height. It's hard to say at your age. But whatever you look like, you're my son, and you're very special to me."

Frankie shifted in his chair. "I don't have my special shoes no more. Dey got burnt up in da fire. Dat's why I gotta go to Italy, but Mama said no."

Frankie sighed and stabbed at his plate with a stray French fry. His eyes teared up, and he nibbled on his lower lip. "All of my clothes were from Italy. I had dese shoes, dese shoes dat made me taller. I need to have 'em to get da respect if I wanna be da CEO, ya know. I gotta keep da men in line or else..." Frankie's voice trailed away, and he grew very upset. He rose abruptly from the table and hopped around, trying to get his bearings to move directly to his wheelchair.

Luke jumped up immediately and wrapped his arms around Frankie's shoulders. He leaned his chin on top of Frankie's head and hugged him briefly. "You're fine just the way you are," he said softly yet firmly. "If you want special shoes, then you can have them. But you don’t have to wear them unless you want to. We'll let you wear sneakers every day of the week or go barefoot even. However, we do insist that you clean your feet, especially between the toes. We do have our standards, you know. No unnecessary odors, house rules."

Frankie's shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his laughter. "How come you're so funny?"

"Yeah." Frankie turned around and looked at Luke. He squinted as he examined his father's face. "Do you think I can be da CEO?"

Luke nodded. "I sure do. You can do whatever you want to if you try hard enough." Luke's face radiated confidence yet concern at the same time. "However, I would like you to consider just being my kid for awhile. You have the rest of your life to be CEO, but only a few more years to be a boy living under my roof. I'd like you to relax and let someone else worry about business and money and taking care of you. You deserve a break. Will you think about it?"

Luke could feel the wall go up when Frankie moved away from him and sat down on the edge of his bed. Frankie bounced up and down on the bed in a rhythmic motion, and Luke thought he seemed nervous and distracted as if it were too much of an effort to converse with his dad. "How are the tests going?" he probed. "Knowing you, you're bored to death."

Frankie's lips tightened into a thin line, and he shrugged Luke's question away. "Where am I going when I get da hell outta dis stupid place?" he asked bitterly as he nibbled on the end of his thumb.

"If you mean where will you live, you'll split your time between my house and Wyndemere. You'll return to Wyndemere and then join us this weekend. We'll have the house all ready by then. Hey! You'll be happy to note that your furniture arrived. It's all set up and looks fabulous. You have good taste, kiddo. Sly is very happy with his furniture, too."

"Good," Frankie responded emotionlessly. Secretly, he was relieved to hear that Luke wasn't going to send him away because he'd messed up so badly. Maybe Luke was different from Frank after all. But then maybe he was just weak. It was hard to tell.

"I'm gonna live where I want to," Frankie announced as he unconsciously decided to bait his father. "Nobody tells me da fuck what to do."

"Fuck it!" Frankie yelled harshly. "I'm not gonna do nothin' I don't wanna. Piss off." He jumped from the bed and hobbled to the window, parting the vinyl miniblinds to get a glimpse of life on the outside and to distance himself from Luke.

"Swearing like a sailor isn't your best habit," Luke responded with annoyance. "Why don't you lose the potty mouth?"

"Fuck!" Frankie screamed loudly in response to Luke's words. His face turned red with his exertion, and his emotions raced a mile a minute as he clenched his fists. When he stumbled slightly and reached for the miniblinds for support, Luke approached him to lend a hand. Frankie suddenly noticed Luke's presence beside him and flinched harshly away from his father with a raised arm, cringing and making a startled sound as if he expected to be beaten for mouthing off. His breathing quickened with his sudden panic, and it made him angrier to feel so out of control and wimpy. "No!" he shouted as he moved further away, turning his face so Luke wouldn't see his shame splashed across it. With Frank, he'd noticed that he got beat the same for one word out of place or fifty, and so he decided to make his conflict with Luke worth his while.

Frankie's voice and body trembled with the force of his emotions."You wanna control me! Nobody can do dat! I got my own money. I'm gonna live by myself, and you can't stop me."

Luke felt a heavy weariness rise within him as it seemed his relationship with his son was one step forward, two back. Trust was definitely not a possibility at that moment in time, and Luke wondered if Frankie would ever warm up to him or was their relationship permanently damaged by time, distance and a madman named Frank Smith. "I know you have your own money," he stated calmly. "This isn't about money; it's about family and relationships. We want you to take your rightful place in our family. You're my eldest son. I want you with me."

Frankie was growing frustrated with his lack of ability to provoke Luke, and he upped the ante by picking up a hospital water pitcher and lobbing it the direction of Luke's head. "Bastard," he said in a seething voice as he turned away. He waited in cold, wary silence as he fully expected Luke to grab him by the hair and kick him to the floor. Part of him wanted so badly for Luke to do the familiar, to set his mind at ease with the familiarity of a beating, but the other part yearned for Luke to hug him and reassure him that he would never hit his son. Frankie was hunched over, miserable and defeated, unable to work his environment to his satisfaction and feeling more powerless than he ever had in his young life.

Luke remained in stunned silence as he waited for Frankie to say something else, something equally awful. Instead, Frankie gave Luke a wide berth and hopped over to the bed, climbed in and rolled himself into a ball with his back turned to his father. Luke sighed deeply and walked over to the bed, sitting beside Frankie. He decided to treat his son the way he instinctively wanted rather than to merely react to Frankie's behavior, and he reached out to stroke the boy's hair. Frankie flinched, but remained still and silent. That's what he really wants, Luke thought to himself.

Luke continued stroking the boy's hair and said, "I hear you're finished with all of your tests and interviews. Did you survive?"

"You're almost wrapped up here," Luke stated. "Tomorrow, all you'll have to do is meet with me and your mother in the psychiatrist's office to hear what he recommends for you. Think you can handle that?"

Frankie nodded again as he stared straight ahead at the blank wall in front of him. Part of him was glad to communicate with Luke, but he wasn’t ready to have a full-fledged conversation with his nerves on edge as they were.

"Does your stomach still hurt?" Luke asked carefully. "I want you to feel better."

"Why don’t you try and take a nap," Luke suggested. "Maybe you need some rest. I want to let you know that they'll be hooking you up to an IV tonight so you can take your medications that way and get some more fluids in you while you sleep. Do you think you can cooperate with the medical personnel?"

Frankie turned his face into his pillow. "I don't like dose nurses," he mumbled "Especially da ones with da dark hair."

Luke frowned at Frankie's assertion, unaware of his son's trepidation at being around women with a certain look or age similar to Frank's whore. "It's unusual, but I'm willing to ask for a nurse that has light hair or a male nurse," Luke stated. "Do you want me to do that?"

"Okay," Luke said as he rose from the bed. "You relax. I volunteered to stay the night again. Ask if you need me."

"This place is spooky," Georgie whispered to Maxie as they stood in the foyer of Wyndemere. "It's only five o'clock in the afternoon, and everything is dark and gloomy. Look at that armor over there. I bet there's a servant hiding in there recording our every move."

"Your imagination is running wild," Maxie scolded her younger sister. Even as she scoffed at Georgie's fears, Maxie felt out of place and strange in this large, gloomy, gothic mansion. It looked like you couldn't break anything in there for under ten thousand dollars.

The two girls were interrupted in the middle of their furious conversation by the entrance of Mrs. Cassadine. Laura breezed into the foyer with her long skirts swirling around her. "Maxie!" she said excitedly. "It's so nice to see you. Is this your sister?"

Georgie relaxed at Laura's open, easygoing manner, and she smiled at Frankie's mother. "I'm Frankie's friend and his best spy," she said proudly as she stuck out her hand.

"Oh!" Laura exclaimed. "That's exciting. I bet Frankie enjoys having you as his friend."

"I think so," Georgie beamed proudly. She stuck her thumb in Maxie's direction. "Maxie is his girlfriend. He's crazy about Maxie. He even sent her a dozen roses. They smelled so good. Oh, and he always wants to know how many times Maxie said she liked him."

Maxie poked Georgie in the back with her fingernail, and Georgie frowned but closed her mouth. "We came by to see if Frankie is okay," Maxie explained in a soft voice, slightly embarrassed at being identified as Frankie's girlfriend to his mother. What if Mrs. Cassadine didn't like her? What would Frankie think? "My mom told me what happened. We brought him a present. I know he likes music. It's a CD."

Laura accepted the CD and smiled. "That's very sweet of you to think of him. I'm sure he'll love it - especially since it came from both of you. Frankie is doing fine. He'll be home tomorrow afternoon. We're having a surprise party for him tomorrow night at Kelly's Diner. Would you like to come? I know he'd love seeing you."

Maxie's eyes lit up, but then they dimmed with her next thought. "I'm not sure my mom will let me. I'm grounded."

Laura's eyes turned down. "Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps your mother will make an exception this one time. Would you like me to call her with an invitation? Maybe I can help."

"Oh, I'd love that, Mrs. Cassadine. Thank you" Maxie beamed. Frankie's mom is nice. She's not strange or anything.

Four adults and one teenager with zero smiles were assembled in an office. Frankie sat in between Luke and Laura, and Alexis and Stefan flanked their respective spouses. Frankie was fidgeting in his seat, humming tunelessly, frowning when Laura placed a gentle, restraining hand on his arm. He colored when Laura whispered in his ear.

"You must be nervous the way you're moving around. Why don't you try to relax? We'll listen to the doctor and then take you home to Wyndemere."

Frankie stopped strumming his fingers on the table but made no attempt to stop his bouncing legs. He ran his hand over his hair and sighed dramatically.

Alexis leaned in to Luke and whispered, "They ought to know better than to make a teenager wait. Look at him. He's just like you when you're uneasy. He's rubbing his hand over his hair like his papa."

Luke smiled, grateful for the comparison to a son who wanted to create distance from his father. Luke was anxious, too, at how Frankie would react to the treatment plan. He wasn't sure how cooperative Frankie would be given his recent behavior. Luke's eyes inadvertently teared up when he recalled the doctor's earlier conference with the parents. The doctor had explained his diagnosis in an honest yet compassionate manner; however, the words had bitten sharply into each of the adults who'd hung onto each comment and phrase.

*** "Your son has a substantial self-reported history of emotional, physical and sexual abuse. Some of this abuse is corroborated by two persons from his past who were interviewed earlier. Based on his written tests and follow-up interviews, we believe he has both depression and a panic disorder, likely caused by his past history and recent events." Stunned silence filled the room as the adults listened to the doctor's detailed explanation of the behavioral implications of the past abuse and tried to relate it to their personal experiences with the boy.

"The medication that his personal physician placed him on is adequate for treating this. He should be up to a therapeutic level within a week and experience some relief from those problems. There is a larger issue at the core of these problems, but I'm not ready to make a firm diagnosis at this point, and I won't place it on the court ordered report."

The doctor paused to allow the information to sink in, and Luke glanced at Laura, whose complexion had turned a sickly pale hue. Luke didn't notice that his hand was trembling until Alexis reached over and grabbed it into her own. Alexis blinked back her tears, and Stefan's face was rigid as a muscle twitched in his cheek. Each had suspected that Frank Smith had abused Frankie and placed him in harm's way, but not to the extent that the doctor was insinuating.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Tests and interviews with your son indicate that he might have a serious dissociative disorder, but I'd like an expert in the field to interview him before making a diagnosis. Therefore, this information will not be placed on the court report and no treatment plan for it will be developed at this point in time. I'd like to concentrate on stabilizing him. It's important for him to regain his physical health and to settle into a comfortable routine. I'd recommend a scheduled living arrangement."

"We have a custody schedule," Luke mentioned. "But we haven't followed it yet because of his injuries. It was easier to care for him at his mother's home."

"I'd recommend beginning with the permanent living arrangements now," the doctor stated. "He needs to be able to count on where he'll be staying and to solidify his relationships with each of you. He's feeling at loose ends right now, and this would help him to feel comfortable. As far as the treatment plan that I will recommend to the court, I believe he would do well with a program that focuses on his substance abuse. This would take the form of adolescent group therapy specific to substance abuse issues, which should help him begin to relate better to his peers as well as educate him about alcohol."

"He's never lived with other children, only briefly when he was dropped off with Mrs. DeMarco," Laura inserted. "He's good with his baby sister, but he has a hard time relating to children his own age."

"Frankie will take over any group," Luke stated. "Fair warning. He's manipulative as well as a natural leader."

The doctor smiled and nodded. "Duly noted. The group therapy should help with both his alcoholism and with developing insight into the thoughts and feelings of children his own age. His medications should help with the depression and panic disorder, but I'd like to hook him up with a counselor to talk with on a weekly basis so he can have a sounding board and be assisted in developing new coping skills. Several family therapy sessions to establish house rules would be helpful as well."

"He doesn't trust anybody," Luke interjected. "How is he going to open up to a stranger?"

"That is a real issue," the doctor admitted. "It may take time and perhaps several therapists until he feels comfortable. That's normal."

"What is this more serious problem that you briefly mentioned?" Stefan asked in his usual manner of cutting directly to the heart of matters.

"As I mentioned, there is not a firm diagnosis at this point; however, Frankie may have a dissociative disorder somewhere along the range of Post-traumatic Stress Disorder to Dissociative Identity Disorder. We should have some answers for you within several weeks."

Stefan's eyes looked sad as he was in the health profession and knew what the terms meant, but the other adults looked confused.

"What does this mean in terms of treatment or how we interact with him?" Alexis questioned with her attorney's tone.

"I'll give you some reading material to take home," the doctor explained. "Mainly, don't be surprised if he has extreme mood swings, appears spacey at times or has rapid changes in his personality. I imagine you've noted this already."

No one spoke, but each reflected on the truth of those statements. "He's like a kid, a teenager and an older businessman wrapped up into one," Laura stated simply.

Luke laughed. "Got that right. You have to figure out which one you're talking to." Unlucky you if you get Frank.

"There is no drug treatment for a dissociative disorder, but he'd need to be stabilized before starting therapy for it if he does indeed have a disorder of this nature. Therapy could take years, but for now, let's concentrate on bringing some order into his life and teaching him effective coping skills."

"He's not going to try to kill himself again, is he?" Alexis blurted out as she became tenser. "I want him to be safe."

The doctor nodded. "I believe his actions were an impulsive reaction to an extreme event. He appears to have been programmed to take his own life without question if threatened with arrest. I don't think he's a danger to himself at this point." ***

The four adults were surprised when the doctor, who had finally showed up, related the treatment plan to a seemingly compliant Frankie. Frankie's face was impassive, and he said, "Yeah," to each suggestion. Luke looked with suspicion at his son. What is he up to?

Frankie worked to keep his face mask like and avoided looking directly at the doctor, but he was extremely annoyed with the situation and had zero intention of complying. Whatever, he thought peevishly. Dey can keep it. I'm outta here. No more shrink dudes. I can't take no more do dis do dat. Forget it. "Can I go home now?" he asked angelically.

"I don't wanna go to Kelly's," Frankie whined as Luke wheeled him up to the door of the diner. "I thought I was goin' back to Wyndemere. I got homework to do. And computer research to do. "I can say hi to Ruby some other time."

Luke patted Frankie on the back. "I think you'll be glad you came. Slap a smile on your face, kiddo."

Frankie stuck out his tongue and made a disgusted sound in protest. His heart raced when Luke wheeled him through the doorway and what sounded like a hundred people shouted, "Surprise!" Frankie blinked as he took in the presence of every person he'd met since he'd arrived in Port Charles. His breath caught in his chest when he saw Felicia, and he broke out into a delighted grin when he detected Maxie and Georgie standing beside her. Maxie gave him a baby wave, and he waved back in return.

"Hey!" Sly said as he bounded up to his brother. "They surprised me first. It's a party for both of us. It's in celebration of my adoption and your return to Port Charles. Isn't it cool, bro?" Sly shook a stunned Frankie's hand up and down.

Luke wheeled Frankie over to the counter, and Frankie said, "Thanks, Ruby," when she emerged from the back room. Ruby smiled at Frankie and clapped her hands. "May I please have everyone's attention?" The murmurs of numerous voices in the room silenced as Ruby held up her hand. "We have a very special guest who has traveled a long way to help us celebrate today." She stepped over to the back room and said, "Break a leg."

Frankie jumped out of his wheelchair when he saw the guest. "Pops!!!!" he shouted with happiness. The man was like a foster grandfather, and he'd instinctively called out their private name for him. Frankie extended his arms and hugged the old man tightly, refusing to let him go.

"You're a rib breaker, Frankie-boy," the old man laughed. "How's my namesake?" Frank Sinatra held Frankie at an arm's distance to inspect him. "You're all in one piece. I was worried about ya, kid. Don’t worry an old man like that. Your man Johnny got ahold of me, and boy was I relieved."

Frankie looked pleased and lowered his eyelashes. "I can take care of myself, you know dat, Frank."

Frank lightly punched Frankie in the arm and chuckled. "You're just like me. Fifteen going on forty, only I'm now in heading in the opposite direction, old man that I am." Frank made a crazy guy twirling motion with his finger near his temple.

Frank looked over to the other side of the room when he heard his name called out. "Francis? Is dat you?" His blue eyes squinted and he held his hand over his eyes as if he needed it to help him see the distance. "You don't say?" he laughed. "I do believe it is Irene - from the old Jersey neighborhood." Mrs. DeMarco rushed up and shook his hand. "Oh boy," she said. "I had such a crush on you, you wouldn't believe." She tiptoed up and kissed him on the cheek. "Dere. I got my kiss. Nice to see you, Francis. I'm surprised you remember me. I was a little girl back den."

"A little girl who used to follow her uncle and me around all the time," Frank commented. "You stuck to us like glue. It's nice to see that little girl all grown up."

Mrs. DeMarco tittered and patted her bun as she blushed. "Are ya gonna sing for us?" she asked breathlessly.

Frank shrugged. "Sure. Why not? How about joining me, Frankie? It'll be like old times, back at the casino."

"Ya," Frankie readily agreed. "Can we dedicate it to my girlfriend? Her name is Maxie Jones."

"This song is 'specially dedicated to the beautiful Miss Maxie Jones," Frank grinned. He bent down and whispered in Frankie's ear as the boy nodded.

"A cappella, folks," Frank laughed. "Here we go. On the count of three, Frankie. One, two..."

Come fly with me, let's fly let's fly away
If you can use, some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay
Come fly with me, we'll fly we'll fly away
Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru
In lama land, there's a one man band
And he'll toot his flute for you
Come fly with me, we'll float down in the blue
Once I get you up there, where the air is rarefied
We'll just glide, starry eyed
Once I get you up there, I'll be holding you so near
You may hear, angels cheer - because were together
Weather wise it's such a lovely day
You just say the words, and we'll beat the birds
Down to Acapulco Bay
It's perfect, for a flying honeymoon - they say
Come fly with me, we'll fly we'll fly away

Frankie blew Maxie a kiss at the end of the song, and Mrs. DeMarco squealed as she hopped up and down and clapped her hands. "My biggest fan," Frank joked as he took her hand and twirled her around until she was dizzy, and then dipped her toward the floor in a stealth maneuver. "Whho-oo!" she breathed out and laughed when he brought her back up.

"Let's eat!" Ruby announced as she brandished several homemade cakes. The crowd gathered around the counter, and Frank pointed out the flavor that he wanted. "There's plenty of coffee and soft drinks!" Ruby said loudly over the growing din. "Let's give a hand to Frankie and Sly, the men of the hour, and an extra special hand to our guest, Mr. Frank Sinatra!"

The crowd cheered wildly, and Luke winked when he caught his son's eye. Frankie smiled broadly in response and excitedly hopped over in Maxie's direction as soon as Felicia seemed occupied talking to someone else.

"I am so glad your mother talked my mother into letting us come," Maxie said brightly. "Your mom is cool."

"Mama did dis?" Frankie asked in surprise. "Dat is cool." He leaned in and gave her a big, long kiss and laughed after they separated. His sparkling blue eyes sought hers out as he softly held her hand. "I missed ya," he said sincerely.

"Me, too," Maxie said. "Thanks for the roses. They were so beautiful. I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. I saved a couple and pressed them in a book so I can keep them forever."

"Wow," Frankie stated. She really did like dose. Bingo. Two points for Frankie.