Lucky concentrated his gaze on Elizabeth, who was deep in thought, sketching a sleeping Jude. Her right hand was carefully capturing the infant's posture: sprawled on his back in a heavy sleep, lips parted a bit as he released a deep breath. "Well, I think it's a great idea. Elizabeth is very talented," he said, a knowing smile drawn on his face.
"Elizabeth also has very good ears and can hear what you're saying," the artist piped up from her seat in the bedroom. "I'm sorry, but it's hard to concentrate when the two of you are whispering in the background."
"Well, then we'll just have to go compliment you somewhere else," Lucky said in a mock offended tone. Elizabeth just looked up at him, and he responded with a grin and a wink.
Emily and Lucky walked down the short hallway to the living room. "I can't wait to see what it looks like when she's finished," Emily said with a sigh as she sat down on the flowered, overstuffed couch.
"The moment will be frozen in time, that's for sure," Lucky said, joining her on the right side of the couch.
"It's cheaper than pictures," Emily said, biting her lower lip for a moment. "We took so many in the first few days, but then we realized how much money it is to buy film and then to develop it."
"True. I'm surprised the Qs haven't sent over a photographer for formal portraits, though," Lucky said as he leaned back.
Emily shook her head. "No. Sly and I both decided we're trying to make this work on our own, and we aren't letting either of our families help us more than necessary." Her eyes clouded over. "Not that Sly and his aunt are getting along particularly well right now, anyway."
Lucky shook his head. "I find it so hard to imagine that they would even fight. Jenny and Sly were always so close, at least when I was around."
"I think something happened when Sly was getting older. It's like they kind of mutually lost faith in each other somewhere along the way," Emily said with regret.
"That happens," Lucky said softly. He changed the subject. "But
really, how are you guys doing with money?"
"We're doing ok." Emily chuckled under her breath. "Luckily,
neither of us got too used to big bank accounts."
"But both of you have trust funds, right?" Lucky asked. "Can't you dip into them when you need it?"
"Not until we're twenty five," Emily corrected him. "That's about five years away for Sly, and seven for me." A thought crossed her mind, and her brown eyes grew wide. "Seven years from now, Jude will be going into the second grade," she said, as if she had just pondered the possibility that Jude would actually grow up.
"Wow," Lucky said, the idea sinking in. "Do you even remember second grade?"
"Well, it wasn't as long ago as you might think," Emily said, looking down at her hands and pushing back the cuticle on her right thumb.
Lucky realized that she was right. It hadn't been all that long ago. They'd all just acted like mini-adults for most of their lives, so childhood seemed artificially distant. He sighed and decided to change the subject. "So, I guess Sly is off at his job interview right now."
Emily's face brightened. "Yeah, he's at the music store. I'm excited for him. He needs to be out there in society again, interacting with more people. I think it'll be good for him."
"So you're saying you're going stir crazy seeing my cousin twenty four-seven?" Lucky asked teasingly, but his blue eyes looked serious.
"It's not like that," Emily said with a wave of her hand. "I love Sly, and I don't mind being with him," she said firmly. "I just think he needs to feel like he's productive, that he can help. It's been hard for him with his hand and everything else that's been going on," she said, not wanting to reiterate the difficult events of the past. "A job should be just the right medicine." She looked around the small living room, with its mismatched, hand-me-down furniture and worn carpeting. "Not to mention it should help out our financial situation."
Lucky looked concerned. "Are you guys getting by, though? I mean, I know you don't want to ask for help, but if you really need it…"
Emily smiled and touched Lucky's arm. "No, we're fine, Lucky. We've both been drawing on some personal bank accounts for our expenses, plus we've gotten some great baby gifts. We're fully stocked in diapers and clothes. Plus, I breast-feed, so that means we don't have to buy formula."
"But the money's going to run out someday, so that's why Sly needs a job," Lucky said, finishing her thought.
"And me too, eventually. I wanted more time to adjust, but I'm not sure that's going to happen," Emily said with some regret.
"Do you feel like a mom yet?" Lucky smiled softly.
Emily made a face. "I can't get used to the word, but for a complete life changing role reversal, I guess I'm doing ok." She played with her wedding ring a bit, tugging at it and turning it. "I think we're bonding. I'm getting more used to what he needs, and how to predict those needs."
"Like those late night feedings? I remember what it was like with Lesley Lu. She woke my parents up at all hours," Lucky said, picturing his baby sister flushed red and crying.
Emily laughed. "Oh yes. I don't think I know what sleep is anymore." She then looked a little guilty. "Sometimes I think he cries just for the fun of tormenting me and Sly. God, that sounds selfish, doesn't it?" She ran a hand through her hair and winced when she tugged at some tangled strands.
Lucky took her hand. "Look, Em, I know that you don't really feel that way. You understand he's only two weeks old. You know he doesn't know any other way to communicate. You're just frustrated, that's all," he said sympathetically.
"I just don't understand him yet," Emily admitted, digging her heel into the carpeting. "Does that contradict everything I said before about bonding?"
"I don't think so, Em. I don't know much about parenting, but I do know it's hard," Lucky said in a voice tinged with some sadness. "God knows I put my parents through enough over the years."
Now it was Emily's turn to lend an understanding viewpoint. "Don't beat yourself up about that Lucky. We've all done some things that have hurt our parents. But you turned out ok, and hopefully so will Jude."
"Hopefully? Come on Em, don't sell yourself short," Lucky said firmly.
Emily smiled a bit. "See, that's why I like keeping you around, Spencer. You boost my fragile ego."
Lucky shook his head. "I would never use that word to describe you, Emily. You've always been the strong one, even if you don't always feel that way."
"And all this time I thought it was you," Emily said, feeling a warm rapport that only years of deep friendship could provide.
"It really feels great to just get to hang out with you again, Emily," Lucky commented. "It seems like things have finally calmed down," he added, but his words were muffled by the loud cry coming from down the hall.
Emily jumped up from the couch. "You said something about calm?" she asked, as she dashed down the hallway.
Lucky sat back on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. "Wishful thinking?" he asked himself.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly bounced his right leg rapidly, so much so that it appeared to be trembling. He shifted slightly on the black, under padded chair he was sitting on and sighed. The back office of Butler's Music Store was very small. Actually, it seemed to be half office, half storage room; file cabinets and a computer shared space with a few boxed started guitars and some other tagged instruments, indicating that they needed repair.
He gently flexed his right hand a bit. In a way, he was relieved that the hand brace was finally off. His hand seemed to be healing. He rubbed the hand with his left. Even though he was free of the constriction of the brace, it also served as a cover for the scars that were underneath. He wasn't comfortable with showing the latest signs of his own weakness, so he wore mostly long sleeved shirts, at least until they faded a little.
Currently, he was more concerned about the wave of nausea he was fighting. He was at Butler's Music Store for a job interview. He was up for a sales associate and teaching position, with various other duties added, like doing simple repairs on guitars. Sly took a deep breath and tried to relax. Andy nervousness he felt was magnified by his lack of sleep. He and Emily were up with Jude most nights, and his medication didn't help matters. He usually ended up staring at the ceiling above his bed even during those precious moments when his son was asleep.
Sly took another deep breath. He had to get this job. His family's future depended on it. The money in his and Emily's bank accounts was quickly running out, and they had refused handouts from their families. Sometimes he wondered if that was such a good idea, but then he reconsidered. He wanted his son to have a good role model, a man who supported his family, not a man who relied on others for their survival.
Sly's musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He rose to meet the owner of the store.
Danny Butler was a friendly looking man, with an easy gait and a warm smile. He was nearly six feet tall, and he had a full head of salt and pepper hair, with a matching goatee.
"Hello, you must be Sly," Danny said heartily. He extended his hand for a handshake, and Sly colored.
Finally, Sly extended his left hand, feeling awkward and embarrassed. "Hello, Mr. Butler," he said.
"Oh, your hand. I forgot," Danny said, and he extended his left hand as well to even up the handshake. "And please, call me Danny," he said as he pumped Sly's hand a few times.
"Ok," Sly said, feeling a bit better because of Danny's nonchalance about his injury.
"Let's sit down and talk," Danny said, motioning to the chair. Sly sat down, and took his resume in hand.
Danny sat down behind the pressboard, industrial style desk and removed a big pile of papers. "Excuse the mess. I'm more of a musician than a bookkeeper." Soon he was finished, providing a neater appearance on top of the desk, even though he had created a pile just behind him on the floor. He folded his hands on the desk. "So, you come highly recommended by Monica Quartermaine."
Sly laughed slightly. "That's nice. I guess I do."
Danny chuckled. "Well, some mothers-in-law wouldn't be so kind."
"True," Sly nodded. He handed Danny a piece of paper. "Here's my resume."
Danny looked over the listings. "Mother Nature's Own Worm Farms, 1994-1995?"
"Yeah, it was a small operation I ran with my cousin. It was a compost unit." Sly thought back briefly to the days when he and Lucky were partners. It seemed like they were inseparable then. The worm farms were fun and profitable for a while.
Danny continued to read. "Landscaper with SE Landscaping, 1995-1996." He looked up at Sly. "SE stands for Sly Eckert, right?"
Sly smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I mostly mowed and raked lawns."
Danny continued on. "Bandleader of Wildfire, 1998 to present," he read. "Always a good thing when someone who wants to work in a music store is a musician himself."
Inwardly, Sly relaxed a bit. He wasn't sure if that was work experience, but he was paid for the shows he performed, and he paid taxes on the money, so he decided it was a small business. It was also related to music, so he put it in.
Danny's eyes were inscrutable when he read the next item. "Shipping and receiving at the ELQ Computer warehouse, February through April 2001." He looked up at Sly. "Why was your tenure there so short?"
Sly immediately tensed up at the remembrance of the job, and the reasons surrounding his firing, and the aftermath. Should he tell Mr. Butler about what really happened? He could always lie, but then he might call and ask for a reference and find out the truth anyway. Sly decided for the honest but relatively un-detailed approach. "My wife's grandfather got me the job at his warehouse, but I hated every minute of it. My boss belittled me every day, and my heart just wasn't in it." Sly swallowed. "I was fired for insubordination." That's putting it mildly, he thought. I can't exactly say I shoved him against the wall and screamed at him.
"Thank you for being direct with me, Sly," Danny said slowly. "I know it must have been hard to admit that."
Sly nodded sadly, but said nothing.
Danny put down the resume. "So, what I gather from this is that either you've been your own boss, or you had trouble taking orders from one."
Sly felt ashamed. "I never really thought about it that way, but I guess it's true," he responded.
"I guess my question is can you ever feel comfortable taking instruction and some orders from a superior?" Danny asked seriously.
Sly nodded. "Yes, I would. I would be obedient and I would be aware of my position in the store."
Danny smiled. "Good answer. Ok, how about some more music specific questions?"
"I'm ready," Sly sighed, ready and willing to leave the past behind and talk about his favorite subject.
"Who taught you to play guitar?" Danny started.
Sly looked proud. "I taught myself," he said, "but I also took some lessons from one of my high school music teachers to polish my technique."
"So you didn't fall in into the usual self-taught mistakes?"
Sly bounced a bit in his chair. "Right. I didn't want to be sloppy or lack form or fall in to a rut with my rhythm," he said, rambling somewhat.
Danny held up a hand. "I get the picture," he said.
Sly blushed. He hoped he wouldn't babble, but here he was doing it already.
Danny continued. "Ok, we know you're pretty good, but have you passed on those skills to others?"
Sly nodded. "I taught my cousin Lucky to play guitar, and a few of my friends, too."
"That's good. Were those one on one situations?"
"Yes, they were, usually," Sly said, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair, wrinkling his khaki pants a bit.
"It's important for a music teacher to be able to work well one on one with people. You can't yell at a student for not understanding something or for not practicing," Danny said, folding his hands together.
"I know that, sir, and I promise I would never be mean or rude to any of the students or customers," Sly said sincerely. He prayed he was making a good impression. He needed this job so badly.
"That's good to hear," Danny said. "What instruments are you familiar with?"
"As you know, my main instrument is guitar, but I'm also familiar with piano and mandolin. I can also bluff my way through some saxophone."
Danny raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
Sly shrugged. "Yeah, I was in the band in middle school. I just got tired of all those marching formations."
Danny laughed heartily. "Yeah, those can be pesky." He tapped his hands on the desk. "You're ready to commit to full time hours here?"
"I am," Sly said. The soft flutter of hope was rising in his chest, but he reminded himself not to get carried away. Things usually didn't have a way of working out for him, and he didn't want to be disappointed.
Danny shuffled a few papers on his desk for a moment, and then looked straight at Sly. "Well, I've made my decision."
Sly's heart felt like it was frozen, waiting in suspended animation for the man's next words.
Danny smiled broadly. "You're hired!"
Sly nearly jumped out of his seat. "You really mean it?" he asked, sounding younger than he meant to.
"I mean it," Danny said with a firm nod of his head.
"Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Butler." Danny gave him a look. "I mean, Danny," Sly corrected himself.
"You'll start Monday at 9am," Danny said, rising from his chair. "Welcome to the team, Sly."
"Thank you," Sly repeated. And thank you, too, God, he added silently.
Danny came around the desk to face Sly. "You know, Sly, we have more in common than you realize. When I was your age, I was drifting. I came back from my tour of duty in Vietnam and I found my old life had left me behind," he said softly. "But someone took a chance on me, gave me a job, a direction. Now look at me. I've got my own business, my family. I hope it works out the same way for you," his green eyes looking directly into Sly's brown ones.
Sly was humbled by Danny's willingness to share such a personal story. "I only hope to live up to your expectations of me," he said. "Thank you for giving me the chance." Sly's eyes burned bright with gratitude.
Danny held open his arms. "Welcome to the team, Sly."
*-*-*-*-*-*
The apartment was quiet as Emily watched a warm red sunset from the window of her son's bedroom. Lucky and Elizabeth had left hours ago, and she was alone with Jude. It was still a little nerve racking, but she was growing more used to it. She walked over to the bassinette and traced the outline of his face with her finger. "I don't know how they even let us leave the hospital with you. Didn't they realize we don't really know what we're doing?" I guess every new parent thinks that, Emily reflected.
She sat down in the rocking chair and leaned back, just looking at her child. Lucky's question from earlier in the day kept repeating in her mind. "Do you feel like a mom yet?" Mom. What did the word even mean?
She picked up a small, faded envelope from the table near the chair. Her mother's familiar handwriting was on the front. Emily held the letter in her hands for a long time, debating about whether to open it. Her mind retreated to the day her mother had given it to her.
*-*-*-*-*-*
(Author's note: this is an actual GH scene from 1995)
Emily sat on her mother's bed in her pajamas. Paige was propped up on some pillows, and her face was tired and pale.
Emily looked at the envelopes in her mother's hands. "Tell me about the letters," she said, her curiosity taking over.
Paige took a breath and handed them to Emily. "Oh. I've indicated on the envelope here when I want you to open each of them."
Emily looked down and read them. "Six months from…" She stopped and didn't read the last words. She wasn't ready to say that out loud yet. "High school graduation," she continued, "wedding day, birth of first child." She grew quiet as she thought about all of those milestones, ones her mother wouldn't be there to share.
Paige sighed. "Yeah. I realize that you might not make the same choices in your life that I made in mine. I considered giving you alternatives for those last two. Kind of stumbled over them." She shifted a little on the bed. "But I decided to leave them up to you. So if you don't get married, if you don't have a child, you'll know when to open them. But you know what sweetie?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"What?" Emily whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
Paige's words were passionate. "I really hope you do have a child of your own someday, because if you do, you'll know how blessed I've been." She began to openly cry. "And you'll begin to understand the depth of my love for you."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Emily couldn't remember what happened after her mother had said that. She probably just threw herself into her arms, which she longed to do right then. She looked down at the envelope. Maybe that memory was all she needed. She decided she wouldn't open the letter yet; she would save it for another day, for when she might need the words a little more desperately.
She got up and walked over to look at her son again. Her heart was full; her longing for her mother shared room with love for Jude. "I'm finally understanding what you said that day, Mom," she said, and she smiled at her baby as he slept. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I only hope I can be half the mom to this little boy that you were to me." The sunset had painted the room with a glowing red blush, and peacefulness settled over Emily. She touched her son's soft cheek and whispered.
"I will always love you, Jude. No matter what."