Where Will All Come Home?

Conclusion
Happy Birthday, Baby

Laura worked at a table placed in front of the fireplace in her
bedroom. Trust Mrs. Landsbury, she thought, to pamper her
even when she was trying to make herself useful. The curtains
over the windows facing the harbor were drawn back to give the
room more light, a cheerful fire roared in the fireplace, and there
was an afghan at hand in case she became chilled. A compact disc
played softly in the background.

Laura began to sing softly when Christina Rossetti's beautiful poem set to music came on. "In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds made moan."

She curled a length of red ribbon and tried it against a paper covered with dancing Santas and reindeer. Perfect. Lesley Lu would love it.

"Earth as hard as iron. Water like a stone."

She smiled with satisfaction as she tied the ribbon around a big bow so that the ends would dangle over the sides of the package.

"Snow had fallen. Snow on snow."

She laid the package down, and picked up another.

"Snow on snow."

Stefan stood in the shadows near the doorway, biding his time.

Laura smiled contentedly as she picked up wrapping paper covered with comical baby angels and continued her song.

"In the bleak midwinter. Long ago."

Laura's recovery from her surgery had been remarkable so far. After three weeks time, she was walking confidently. Her leg had pained her for a time, but the incision was healing rapidly. The physicians had warned of emotional lability: stress caused by the physical onslaught of injury to the head followed by the trauma of major surgery could leave the brain reeling for months. The whole family had been told to expect periods of too much laughter, too many tears, perhaps even unaccountable rages, as well as memory loss.

It was the matter of memory loss which most concerned Stefan. How much she remembered and whether she would regain her memories of events transpiring immediately before or after her injury remained a gray area. The specialists told him that she might suffer from some edema of the brain for up to three months. At the end of that time, they would have a clearer picture of where she stood.

Kevin Collins had consulted Tony and the her surgical team, and today he had told Stefan and Lesley that it was physically safe to tell Laura about her father. He suggested that Laura be told in a place where she felt safe - and by her husband. Lesley protested, but Kevin insisted that Laura needed to process the information before she confronted her mother. He expressed his sympathy to Lesley, but wouldn't bend. Stefan would be the one to tell Laura what had triggered her fall.

The past few weeks had been awkward for the whole family. The boys wanted to welcome their grandfather into the family, but were unsure how to behave in front of their mother. The problem had been solved temporarily when they both returned to school, and didn't have to face her on a daily basis.

Both boys had been in contact with Stuart Gray, however. Nikolas had visited his home in Cambridge and met a flock of uncles, aunts, and cousins. Lucky was becoming acquainted with his grandfather primarily by e-mail and telephone calls. He and Elizabeth had made the decision to stop in Cambridge on their way home for Christmas. Stu had called Stefan the night before, delighted with their planned visit.

Stu badly wanted to tell Lesley Lu, but agreed that hiding a truth of that magnitude from her mother would be too much pressure for a child her age. Luke had insisted to Stu and Stefan that he be allowed to tell Lesley Lu himself. It seemed of such importance to him that Stu agreed, but Stefan remained uncomfortable with the plan. However, he had called Luke after speaking to Kevin today, and asssumed that Luke had made plans to see Lesley Lu.

Stu was willing to wait as long as necessary before another attempt was made to tell Laura. Stefan's feelings were mixed. Stu deserved to know his daughter. He had waited too long to know his family. Finally, Stefan decided that he would tell Laura, then notify Stu. In that way, he would be spared hours of anticipation and worry. He would call him tonight after he speaking to Laura.

The family was in turmoil, and more could be anticipated. Lucky had accepted the news with more equanimity, but Stefan was gravely concerned about Nikolas's state of mind. His life had been scarred by too much deceit, too much treachery and loss. His bond with Lesley had been of enormous importance to him. Stefan needed Laura's help to stabilize their son, but he worried that she herself would be too out of control to help Nikolas. Her life, as well, had been marked by the most extreme breaches of trust. This one would be stunning. And if she remembered the other....

He shook himself mentally. That would have to wait. Dr. Collins was confident that he could help her work through that. One hoop at a time. He breathed deeply, and made a sound.

"Harumph."

Laura jumped a bit in her chair, and like any mother four days before Christmas, quickly flung the aghan over her packages.

She stood up. "Who is it?" she asked turning toward the door. She stood in front of her treasure trove, blocking it from view.

She relaxed when she saw Stefan. "Thank goodness! I thought it was one of the children!"

She leaned back against her work table. "Silly of me," she said sheepishly. "Luke picked up Lulu, Sergei's asleep, and the older boys aren't home yet."

"You relax too soon," he growled, crossing the room in a few quick steps.

"You are in graver danger than you realize," he whispered huskily. "I have never been able to resist a woman wearing mouse ears."

He swept her into his arms and nibbled her neck. "Perhaps, instead, I should purr with satisfaction, as my prey is in my grasp."

"Good Grief!" Laura blushed. "I forgot Lulu put this Mickey Mouse thing on me." She pulled the cap off and tossed it on the table. "She thought the patch they shaved for stitches might get cold and put this on me before she left."

Stefan trailed small kisses along her jawline, adding a throaty purr which Laura found quite appealing. She turned to kiss him, looked fully into his shadowed eyes, and stopped.

"So solemn." She cupped his face in her hands. "Did you locate your mother?"

"No." He pulled her closer. "No. She has vanished without a trace."

Laura murmured against his chest. "She'll probably be back sooner than we'd like."

"Probably. But the yacht hasn't moved. Her employees are baffled. It's eerie." He kissed the top of her head absently.

"More?" she asked, her bright eyes on his face again.

"Yes." he answered.

"People have been walking on eggshells around me since the accident. I can't remember anything, but some time before I fell, you told me that you were keeping a secret from me. Did I learn that secret the day I fell?"
"Yes."

Laura continued. "You were worried. I remember that."

"Yes."

"Is that what's bothering you?" she asked. "It wasn't your secret."

"Come sit with me." He pulled her into an armchair, and she nestled into his lap.

His heart lurched when he thought of the task ahead of him.

He took a small book from his pocket. "I want to read you a poem."

Her forehead wrinkled, and she bit her lower lip. "I don't get it, but okay."

"It is..." he took a breath... "sad. Very sad. I think I can read it though."

Laura nodded. He put on his reading glasses and juggled the book while he pulled her closer.

He began to read. Laura soon agreed with him. It was a sad poem. All about someone's dead child. She remembered the terrible days when they believed Lucky to be dead. This parent's grief was undeniable, unrelenting, unbearable. Stefan's voice grew huskier as he began the last verse.

Both were silent when he finished.

Stefan recovered first. "Not his best effort, the critics said. Too raw."

"Who cares what the critics said?" Laura asked indignantly. "It's an expression of terrible grief and love."

Stefan continued pedantically. He couldn't seem to shift gears. "Too raw. Unpolished. An accomplished poet though. Fairly well-known in academic circles."

"Why did you read it to me?" Laura wiped away tears with a handkerchief she pulled from her husband's pocket.

"Do you remember the day when we were in my office. You wondered what your father would have thought of you?"

"Yes." Laura's brow furrowed. "Yes, but?" Her eyes grew wide.

Stefan turned the book so that she could read the title of the poem. "December 22nd."

"My birthday." She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"I wanted you to know." Stefan pulled her closer. "How he felt about you. He wrote it on your tenth birthday. I have been saving it for you."

Laura took the book from his hands and read the poet's name.

"It's about me. Gordon Gray was my father. He thought I was dead." She gazed at the book in wonder.

He nuzzled her neck. "Tomorrow, when you wake up...." His voice broke. " For the first time, you will greet your birthday knowing how much your father loved you. How much he wanted you."

"On my tenth birthday, I got a red sweater and a beautiful new doll. All the neighborhood children were invited to my party. I wore my favorite pink dress. Mom made a pink cake to match my dress. It was one of the happiest birthdays I remember."

"My father spent that day mourning. He died without ever knowing that I was alive."

"No," said Stefan. "There is more."

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Luke and Lulu were sharing an order of cheese fries in his office at the bar. Lulu was eating a fry and dancing. Luke shook his head. This kid was a nonstop bundle of energy. He'd found that out the hard way while he and Alexis were looking after her and the Baby Count.

"Come here, Cupcake." Luke stuck out a hand and pulled the little girl into his lap. She snagged two more fries, tucked one into her own mouth and one into his.

"I gotta talk to ya, real serious-like." His voice was muffled by the cheese fry she'd stuck in his mouth.

"Why?" asked Lulu. She had finished her fry and was leaning sideways. No. He realized with horror that she was beginning to dangle upside down over the arm of his chair.

"Catch my feet, Daddy." She let her arms fall down and hung upside down with her hair brushing the floor, while Luke desperately gripped her ankles.

"What are you doin'?" he asked.

"Being a bat. It's fun. Once I heard you call Papa 'the bat.' That would make Sergei and me baby bats."

"Geez." Luke pulled Lulu upright. The kid heard everything.

"We would be a bat family. At night we would all hang upside down together, and Papa and Mama would put their wings around Sergei and me." Lulu's eyes shone with enthusiasm. "So cozy.

"I like bats so much. I saw them at the zoo. They have soft fur like squirrels. Papa would be a handsome bat, and Mommy would be sweet and soft. Sergei would make the cutest, teeny bat in the world." Lulu added dreamily.

"I need to talk to you, Lulu. Cut out the bat stuff."

"Fruit bats. That's what we'd be." Lulu continued.

"I have to apologize to you, and I hate apologies. Don't make it even harder on me." Luke grumbled.

Lulu sat up straight. "Then spit it out and let's get on to more fun stuff," Lulu said.

Luke raised an eyebrow. She was definitely getting sassier. Maybe there was a point to all those rules Cassadine used with her.

"When you told me that Lesley was hiding something, you were right. I should have taken you seriously."

"Yep, you sure should've." Lulu agreed. "Now, can I be a bat again?" She leaned sideways.

"No. Stop that." Luke caught her. "You don't understand. You were right. I was wrong."

"I know," Lulu said impatiently. "Umm, I forgive you. I accept your apology. Now, can I play bat?"

"There's a lot more to it that you don't understand. I need to explain some stuff."

Lulu hopped off his lap and dug in her pocket. "Here," she said. "Look at this." She pushed a folded, crumpled piece of paper into his hands.

Luke unfolded the battered paper carefully. "It's a picture of your buddy, Mr. Stu. Did Elizabeth draw it for you?"

Lulu nodded. Her eyes were somehow secretive, he thought.

"She drew it for me back before Thanksgiving. Lucky and I were fighting. I told him that he was too old to understand much of anything. Elizabeth said she would draw a picture of what Lucky looked like to me."
Luke stroked his face. "So, this is a picture of...?"

"Lucky, when he gets old. Like a grandpa," Lulu said with peculiar emphasis. "That's when I realized how much Lucky looked like Mr. Stu. It made me so happy."

"So you've figured it all out, huh?"

"Mostly," Lulu said. "Mr. Stu came on sad business, he said. Was he looking for Grandma Lesley?"

"Naw," Luke said. "His wife died, and he brought her ashes to Port Charles. That was his sad business."

"Then, he came back again. He told me that more sad business brought him back to town. What was that?"

"He wanted to move his little daughter's grave, but when he visited the cemetery, it was already gone. So, he hired a detective and came back to Port Charles. He thought your Grandma Lesley might have moved the child's body here. He wanted to make sure that she was buried with her own family. "

Lulu nodded. "Okay." She jumped back into his lap.

"Lesley asked Stefan to help her find him. He did. As it turns out, Stu would've come anyway. But I guess you think that Cassadine's a lot more reliable than your old man."

Luke was astonished to realize how much her opinion mattered. He had ignored her for years, realized his mistake, and tried to make amends, but it was too late. Stefan Cassadine would always be between them. Papa - the one she could count on. Daddy - the one she couldn't trust. He knew that he deserved it, but it stung, nonetheless.

Lulu leaned against him for a long time before she spoke.

"When I am very, very old, and I've seen the whole world over, maybe two or three times, I will tell my grandchildren about this time. When Mommy was sick, and I was scared." She turned to put her arms around her father. "The time when I got to know my own daddy, and my grandpa. All the happiness and the sadness mixed together." She whirled her hands around to indicate the confusion of it all.

"I will remember that you and me partnered for the first time. I wanted to find Mommy's daddy, because I was mad at her. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to get away from you."

Luke pushed her flying hair back behind her ears. "I didn't give you much reason to want to hang around," he said wistfully.

Lulu's clear eyes looked into his. He winced internally as she said "That's true, but you were wrong about me. There was a lot we didn't know about each other," she added thoughtfully.

"But the important thing is, you and me do make good partners. We could've found Mr. Stu ourselves, but you said that was wrong. It was Grandma Lesley's secret we would be messing with; it wasn't our business. You wouldn't let me do the wrong thing."

"So, you're not disappointed in me?" The shadow of a smile crossed Luke's face.

"Nope. Parents are supposed to teach their children, and this is the first time you ever taught me something." Lulu stretched up to kiss her father's cheek. "Thank you."

Luke rubbed his eyes. "No, Lulu, thank you." He hugged her for a minute, eyes shining.

"Now, let me guess," he said. "You want to be a bat again."

"Exactly," said Lulu, flinging herself over the arm of his chair.

******************************************************************************
Late that night Gordon Stuart Gray relaxed in his study. He had spent a satisfying evening in the company of his grandson, Lucky Spencer and his girlfriend, Elizabeth Webber.

He glanced at his watch in surprise when the phone rang. It wasn't like David to call so late, but he surmised that his brother simply couldn't wait any longer to find out how the evening had gone.

He picked up the phone. "Hello."

There was a brief silence. He almost hung up before he heard a soft, hesitant voice.

"Dad, do you think that you could come to Port Charles tomorrow to celebrate my birthday with me?"

"Yes," he said, tears welling in his eyes. "Oh, yes."

The End