He walked slowly through the park on his way to meet Charlie. He had not seen her in the past few days, and he missed her. He had called to set up a date for them, but Charlie seemed reluctant. Still, she agreed, and that was all that mattered. He soon spotted her sitting on the park bench where they first met.
Livvie watched Nikolas approach with a smile on his face. She wished she could share his mood. How could she when she had such a big bomb to drop?
Nikolas noticed Charlie's downcast mood right away. "Hello," he said softly.
"Hello, Nikolas," she said, keeping her eyes focused on the ground.
Nikolas sat next to her and was quiet for a while. "What's wrong, Charlotte?" he finally asked.
"Stop calling me that!" Livvie burst out.
"What are you talking about?" Nikolas asked, casting a suspicious eye at Charlie.
"Charlotte Macmillan is not my name. It's Olivia. Olivia Locke."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly stood in front of the bathroom mirror as he untangled his damp ponytail. The rain had abated somewhat as he had walked home from the lighthouse, so his hair was almost dry.
Sly combed out the long, blonde hair. He had started growing it out soon after he had returned from Oregon. He had not noticed it at first, but he stopped going for regular haircuts. Sly knew it was because his grandfather had often made him go to the barber. "A young man shouldn't look like a hippie freak," he would often say. Sly would then have the barber cut it as little as possible to make him happy.
Back home, however, he let it grow. Now it reached well past his shoulders. Sly stared at his reflection. His mother used to have long hair. The long blond tresses used to cascade down her back. God, she was beautiful.
Sly picked up a pair of scissors. He grabbed a chunk of his hair, and cut it away. He stared at it in his hand for a moment. He hoped he was avoiding Samson's fate. He threw away the hair, then cut more off. Soon, it was relatively short.
He picked up the electric razor and started running it smoothly over his head, getting rid of most of the remaining hair. He ran a hand over his head. It looked like he had just gotten out of boot camp.
Maybe you should shave. It will make a good impression. Sly remembered telling his father that before the disastrous custody hearing that took place almost nine years ago to the day. It seemed like more than that.
He got out of his wet clothes and dried off. He went to his closet and chose a dark suit. He quickly dressed. After he was done, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. I look more and more like him every day, he thought, as he ran a hand along his face. Same nose, same cheekbones, same haunted eyes. He took one last look into the mirror. I hope I look responsible enough. He picked up his keys and walked out the door.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Emily sat on her bed in her room, amazed she was able to get through dinner with the whole family. She managed it by keeping almost silent. Luckily, everyone was pretty quiet, so no one seemed to notice.
She picked up one of her childhood dolls. She used to pretend they were her children. She used to dress them, and rock them to sleep.
She held the doll close to her. Now she didn't have to pretend anymore. She would really be someone's mother.
She put the doll down. Emily always knew she wanted children. She wanted to give them the kind of life she had when she was young. She wanted her children to feel the love and support from two parents like she had.
The world took her parents from her, but at least she had the opportunity to be with them for a while. Would her child even have that? She and Sly were not in a committed relationship. They didn't even have a relationship at all. Would he leave them? Would he have anything to do with them at all?
Her mind raced. She knew she could trust Sly. She trusted him enough to share the most intimate of moments with him. Couldn't she trust him to deal with the aftermath?
Emily cursed herself. The aftermath? I shouldn't refer to my own child that way. My child. I can't believe it. It's too soon. I'm not ready.
There was a knock at the door. "Miss Quartermaine?"
"Go away, Reginald. I want to be left alone," Emily called.
"Um, a Mister Sly Eckert is here and he's quite insistent on talking with you."
Emily sighed. He came back. "Send him in."
Sly opened the door and walked into the room holding a dozen roses. His face had absolutely no expression.
Emily looked at Sly long and hard. His long hair was gone; his relaxed clothing replaced by a formal looking suit. He hardly looked like the same person. She had to comment. "What the hell happened to you?"
*-*-*-*-*-*
"I don't understand," Nikolas said to Livvie, a sinking feeling forming in the middle of his chest.
Livvie took a deep breath. "My name is Olivia Locke. My mother is Rachel Locke, a staff psychiatrist at General Hospital."
Nikolas said nothing. He just sat on his hands so she couldn't see them shaking.
Livvie continued. "I came to Port Charles looking for answers. My mother and grandmother moved here over a year ago, and they left me behind at a boarding school in Arizona. My mother got sick with appendicitis and missed a vacation we were supposed to take. I came here to take care of her, and I tried to make her let me stay. She would have none of it," Livvie said with a bitter edge to her voice.
"Keep going," Nikolas said softly.
"She wanted me gone, but she made it seem like she was hiding something. So I made it look like I left, but I've actually been living here for months. I've been living under the assumed name."
"Charlotte," Nikolas said, his mind spinning.
"Right," Livvie sighed. "I've kept my real identity secret from almost everyone, including you."
"Why are you telling me this now?" Nikolas felt himself growing angrier by the second.
"I confronted my mother a few days ago. She was trying to ruin Dr. Collins' career. I couldn't let her. So I burst in on a hearing to tell the truth."
Nikolas tried to follow her words, but in truth, he didn't really care what the reasons were that she revealed herself. He couldn't get past the fact that she deceived him.
"So now everyone knows that I'm here. I know that I'm not leaving, no matter how much she wants me to. My whole life may be a lie, but I am not letting her win," Livvie said with conviction in her voice.
Nikolas just stared at her. Finally, he found his words. "But you lied. You lied to me, to everyone!"
"I did what I had to do," Livvie said flatly.
"Don't you think what you did is wrong? Your lie was just as bad as your mother's."
"No!" Livvie said angrily, rising to her feet. "It is not the same thing! She told me my father was dead. He's not dead. She doesn't even know who he is! I am the result of some one night stand," she said, her voice catching a bit on the words.
Nikolas tried to feel something for her, but his rage blinded him. "You lied. You lied to me this whole time. You made me think you were someone else. I don't even know who you are."
Anger flashed in Livvie's eyes. "Don't you see? I don't know who I am either! But I guess you can't identify with that. Maybe in your sheltered world you never had to wonder about whom your parents were. You never had to find out the man you thought of as a father wasn't really one at all."
Nikolas laughed bitterly. "Don't be so sure. I understand more than you know." He turned away. He had to get out of there. "Goodbye, Olivia."
"Wait a minute, you're just leaving? You don't want to try to work this out?" she asked.
"I can't tolerate any more lies. Not from you, and not from anyone else." With that, he calmly walked away, a volcano of emotion exploding underneath his cool exterior.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly held out the flowers. "Nothing happened to me."
Emily took the flowers, but persisted. "What did you do to your beautiful hair?"
"I cut it. It's about time I grew up." He walked further into the room.
"And the suit?"
"I'm trying to be responsible. How can I look responsible when I'm dressed like a slob?"
Emily sighed. "What are you talking about?"
"Emily, we have to tell everyone sometime. Why not start with your family?"
"Wait a minute. You want to tell them now, today?"
"Why not? It has to be done."
Emily carefully looked at Sly. His movements were rigid. He paced back and forth, a faraway look in his eyes. "Sly, I still can't believe this myself. How do you think I am going to tell my parents?"
"It's time to take responsibility for our actions."
"When did you become such a robot?" Emily suddenly asked.
Sly turned around quickly. "What?"
"Sly, I just saw you a few hours ago. You were upset, you showed some emotion. Now there's nothing."
"I am trying the best that I can to do the right thing," he said, his voice cracking. "What do you want me to do?"
"Be yourself, not some image of what you think the perfect father should be."
"Father. I can't be a father," Sly said, his composure cracking.
"And I can't be a mother. Not yet." Emily sighed, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Sly moved to Emily and held her face in his hands. "I am so sorry I did this to you," he said, trembling.
"No, Sly. I am sorry for saying that. You didn't do anything to me. It was our decision. Now we just have to deal with it."
Sly looked at Emily. It was just like her to see past her own problems to help someone else. She was so beautiful. He pushed a piece of hair out of her face and she looked up at him with so much uncertainty in her eyes. He didn't know what else to do so he pulled her into a hug.
Emily was initially surprised by the gesture, but finally allowed herself to collapse into Sly's arms. Her body shook with sobs as he gently stroked her back. "What are we going to do, Sly?"
"I don't know, Emily. I just don't know."