Chapter One



Brenda Barrett shoved frantically at the tail of her old-fashioned, white shirt, trying to force it inside the waistband of her ankle-length skirt. She couldn't believe it - late for work on this, of all days! She'd like to blame that darned alarm clock, but she rather vaguely remembered tapping the snooze button this morning. At least, that's what she'd intended to do; apparently she'd simply turned it off instead.

"JJ," she called, as she reached around to button her skirt, smoothing the navy blue fabric over her hips before hurrying to her makeup table. "Sweetie, Mommy's late for work. We've got to hurry up!"

"I am, Mom," the five-year-old's voice came faintly from the hallway. "But I can't find my Power Rangers t-shirt".

"Then wear another." Brenda grabbed a brush and leaned sideways to drag the bristles through her waist-length, black hair. Dropping her brush, she scooped up the thick, straight swatch and twisted it into a chignon atop her head.

JJ appeared in her doorway wearing colorful knee-high socks and nothing else. Tousled hair, as blond as his father's, fell over his forehead. His mouth, usually curved in a smile, turned down at the corners. JJ didn't like being rushed. He preferred stopping to smell the roses, so to speak. 'Hurry' was not a word he enjoyed hearing - ever.

Brenda groaned, "Honey, we're late! We've got to get a move on!" "We're always late," the boy declared.

"Not always - just once in a while… Okay, frequently. But not today. Today is special." She jabbed hairpins into the cushion of hair, hoping they'd anchor firmly enough to hold.

"Why?" he asked, always wanting to know the reason for everything.

"Oh, JJ, can't you take my word for it just this once?" came his mother's exasperated reply.

"I guess," he answered quietly, his blue eyes clear and curious, as he quickly added: "But why?"

She knew from past experience that her inquisitive, intelligent son wouldn't give up until he got answers, no matter how vague those answers might be.

"Why? Because the hotel's been sold, and the new owner is coming in today to meet everyone."

"Oh, yeah…" JJ answered hesitantly, and then he added, "Don't the new owner-"

"'Doesn't,' honey."

"Doesn't the new owner like you?" he finished.

"He'll like me more if I'm not late to work. Mr. Grover is used to me and my tardiness, but I'm afraid being late on his first day will not make a very good impression on my new boss," she added in a muttered aside. "Although, with any luck, he'll never find out."

She turned around to see her nearly naked son still standing there. "JJ, please-"

"I'm goin'," he answered crankily, his shoulders drooping, showing his displeasure at being rushed. "But if I had a daddy, he wouldn't make me hurry," he added petulantly, as he turned and shuffled towards his room.

Brenda's stomach clenched painfully. She tried to continue getting ready for work, but her son's parting shot - however innocently uttered - had hit its target with unerring accuracy. JJ was both the joy and trial of her life. She loved him unconditionally and without reservation, and she couldn't possibly fathom a life without him. They were closer than most mothers and sons, since it was only the two of them - and had always been just the two of them. A father had never been part of his experience, and she had hoped against hope that what he'd never known, he'd never miss. But with each passing day, she was beginning to realize how futile that hope was. Now, at the tender age of five, her son was full of questions and opinions, and most them centered on the father he wasn't even sure he had.

She had tried so hard to give him a good life, with all the love and nurturing a child could ever have. But one thing she could never give him - or be for him - was his father. She had always told herself that someday she'd tell JJ the truth, but she had always rationalized that for his own sake, he'd have to be old enough to handle it before she did.

She finished applying a subtle pink lipstick and recapped the tube, wondering when *she* would be old enough to handle it. She quickly wiped the tears that were beginning to slide down her cheeks. "JJ," she called, "I'm going to fix you your breakfast and you can eat it on your way to the sitter's. I'm sorry, honey, but we've really got to get going."

Grabbing her high-button shoes, she lifted her long skirt and sprinted through the small cottage to the kitchen, making a point of ignoring the clock on her living room wall. She knew she was late, but she'd just as soon not know *how* late.

****************************


With JJ fed, dressed, and dropped off at the baby-sitter's, Brenda aimed her four-wheel-drive vehicle toward the Miner's Point Hotel in the heart of Port Charles, New York. Trying not to drive too fast over the unpaved and rutted streets, she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself over her son's comments.

The Miner's Point hotel actually opened its doors on Myer's Avenue in 1897, one year following the disastrous fires, which wiped out nearly every building in her hometown. Six people died in the fires, and another five thousand were left homeless. But the hotel had survived the fires and was the town's treasure, a symbol of the good old days.

Brenda loved the stories of those rowdy, early days. When she'd obtained her job as desk clerk at the Miner's Point Hotel four years ago, she'd been presented with a ready-made excuse to delve more deeply into local history. This she'd done with such thoroughness that she'd gradually become the hotel's resident expert, called upon to answer questions posed by the throngs of tourists passing through, especially after small-stakes gambling came to town in the fall of 1991.

Brenda also loved her job, which required - or more accurately allowed - her to dress in turn-of-the-century clothing and comport herself like a lady of that bygone era. Even though it was still early, the town was already alive with tourists, she noted as she skipped between parked vehicles, crossing the hotel's parking lot and entering the back door. Although the permanent population of Port Charles was only about 18,000 people, visitors poured in by the thousands each day during the summer months. Brenda, for one, welcomed those tourists with open arms. If it weren't for them, Miner's Point would have never been renovated and reopened, even on its current diminished scale. "Brenda!"

Hearing her name, Brenda stopped short and turned. Ruby, Mr. Grover's secretary and a friend of hers, motioned frantically from a doorway. Quickly Brenda hurried to the woman's side, raising her brows in question.

Ruby looked around quickly. "You're late," she whispered.

This was hardly news. "I'm sorry," Brenda said contritely. "I got to playing with JJ last night, and we were having such a good time, and then when he went to sleep, I had to do the laundry and iron and then-"

"Okay, Brenda, I get it! Stop rambling! Ruby laughed. "But we've got ourselves a little problem. The new boss has arrived, and Mr. Grover is showing him around, and I'm afraid they know that you're late."

"Rats!" Brenda bit her lip. "I was hoping I could kind of... you know - sneak in."

"Too late for that, I'm afraid. But I suggest you get yourself out there and behind that counter, and act like nothing happened. Maybe the new guy will forget. If he does, you know Mr. Grover won't make an issue out of it. He says that even when you're late, he gets more work out of you than from any other three employees around here - and he gets it with a smile. The new owner, though-" She shook her head doubtfully.

Brenda heart sank. "What's he like, Ruby?"

The woman shrugged. "I haven't got the foggiest idea. But if you ask me, he's too good-looking to be a worthwhile human being."

"Ruby!" Brenda was shocked at her friend's attitude.

"Well," Ruby said defensively, "you haven't seen him. He's a real stud-muffin -tall, blond, and handsome, as we used to say in my day. It seems to me that people who are that good-looking always try to get by on it, if you know what I mean."

"I hope you're wrong, for our sakes," Brenda answered.

"Time will tell." Ruby patted the younger woman's arm. "Now you get yourself in there and get busy. We don't want our new boss to get the wrong idea."

Brenda certainly didn't. With a grateful glance back toward her friend, she hurried down the hall and entered the lobby through the back. At the other work station, Faith Stafford glanced up with a relieved smile before turning to the next customer. "Miss, if you could give me a little help here-"

"I'd be glad to," Brenda smiled at the gentleman speaking so impatiently. How may I be of service, sir?" she asked. By the time he left a few minutes later, key in hand, she had him smiling and joking with her. It was going to be a delightful day at Miner's Point, she decided. She only regretted that it had started without her.

She greeted the next customer with a smile, and the next, as she and Faith quickly and efficiently handled each customer's crisis, passing the large, leather registration book back and forth between them as they worked. Brenda began to relax a little, convinced that her personal crisis had also passed. The new boss hadn't appeared yet, so in all likelihood he'd forgotten about the errant employee. At least, that's what she hoped because she wanted to make a good impression on him.

Not only did Brenda like her job, but she also needed it to support herself and JJ. Her brother Jared had offered to help her out financially, but she had refused anything major from him, preferring to stand on her own two feet. Jared had made a ton of money in electronics, before selling everything at the time of his marriage to Lois, his childhood sweetheart. They now lived on the family's old, re-established ranch, with their nine-month-old son, John Harlan Barrett, named after their father. They raised horses and cattle and were as happy as larks. Brenda smiled at that thought.

Over the years, since JJ's birth, Brenda had accepted a limited amount of financial help from Jared, although he was constantly pushing her to let him do more. Her independence was very important to her, and her pride re-coiled at the mere thought of handouts. Only in emergency situations - or for JJ's well being - could she swallow that pride. But never easily. She was determined to take care of herself and her child on her own. Sighing, she turned towards Faith, who also wore the same white shirt and dark-colored skirt, which was the uniform worn by all the hotel's female employees. "Wow! That was quite a rush. I'm really sorry I was..."

Faith's gaze skipped past Brenda, and Brenda heard her let out her breath in a soft gasp. Someone else wanting to register, Brenda interpreted. Turning with a practiced smile, she found herself looking into the grown-up version of her son's sparkling, blue eyes - those eyes that she had lost herself in so many years before. Her eyes darted from those spectacular eyes to those of Mr. Grover, who was standing beside the newcomer, an anxious smile plastered on his face. Brenda felt all the air being sucked out of her lungs, as she realized that the new owner of Miner's Point, and her new boss, was none other than Jasper Jacks -- the father of her child.

Then, much to everyone's surprise, hotel employees and guests, as well as its new owner and Mr. Grover, they all watched as level-headed Brenda Barrett grew pale and fainted right before their very eyes.



Chapter 2
We Belong Index