Where Will All Come Home?

Chapter 8
It was Thursday evening. After Lulu and Sergei were tucked into
bed, Laura bathed and got ready for bed while Stefan returned a
phone call from Monica Quartermaine regarding the hospital
budget. By the time he entered their bedroom, she was almost
ready for bed. Dressed in a gown and negligee of ivory lace, she
was brushing her hair at her dresser.

He walked over and took the hairbrush from her hand.

"I have consulted our attorneys regarding Lesley Lu's custody arrangements."

"Why?" asked Laura, startled.

"Franklin assures me that we have sufficient grounds for revoking visitation privileges. We can cite lack of consistency in visitation, Luke's lifestyle – including his relationship with Alexis, and the fact that the child spends well over fifty percent of all visitation time in the care of Sonny Corinthos or with her aunt.

Laura carefully watched his reflection in the mirror. "What happened between the two of you Tuesday night? I could tell you were too angry to talk about it, but that was two days ago. It must have been pretty bad."

"Spencer simply strolled into my study. I assume he was eavesdropping outside." Stefan waved the hairbrush in frustration, and stroked his beard. He resumed brushing her hair and speaking at the same time. "I was reassuring Nikolas, because he saw someone die that night, and was deeply shocked."

"How awful! Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's more." He stopped brushing her hair, and looked directly into her eyes reflected in the mirror.

"I had asked Nikolas to make a social contact with a number of people for business purposes. One of the people I had targeted, a woman, died suddenly that night, no more than ten or twelve feet from him."

"But..." Laura's eye grew huge.

He shook his head. "It is the Cassadine legacy." I cannot escape it, and I will never live it down. Nikolas immediately questioned whether my interest in these people resulted in her death. I tried to reassure him. I told him I would look into it immediately, but that it seemed unlikely that there was a connection."

Luke strolled in just after we hung up, and as you can imagine, his immediate assumption was that Nikolas and I had conspired to commit some crime." Stefan reached past her shoulder, and replaced the brush on the dresser. Then he rubbed his face with both hands.

"An inexcusable assumption on his part. How could he come to such a ridiculous conclusion?" Laura looked grim.

"Who knows what goes through Luke's mind?" Stefan asked wearily.

"The encounter went downhill from there. When he referred to Lesley Lu as 'his child', I nearly struck him. I had been through a long, trying day at the hospital, Nikolas was hysterical, and I…. I came perilously close to losing any semblance of control."

"Understandable, I think," Laura said. She turned around on the stool, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her forehead against the taut muscles of his abdomen.

They remained silent for a few moments.

He stroked her hair, sighed a little, and spoke again.

"The problem is that I must discover whether there is a connection between the woman's death and us. I cannot imagine that there is one, but I must look into it. Nikolas deserves that much."

"You are a good man, and a wonderful father." He pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed first one, then the other.

He smiled a little, but his brow remained furrowed. "What if there is a connection?" he asked, still holding her hands near his face.

"We'll worry about that when you find out more. We'll worry about that together. Don't shut me out, please." She stood up and kissed him. " I love you."

"And I you."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her eyelids and cheeks, nibbled her lips. He pulled her hard up against him, felt the warmth of her body, and the steady beating of her heart. Her body began to mold itself to his.

"I need you" he whispered. "There are no words adequate to my purpose. Poets stole them all. I want to lose myself in you tonight. I am never whole except when I am in your arms."

He kissed her more urgently, one hand tangled in her hair and the other pressed against the small of her back. Laura's eyes danced with desire, and they met each other passionately, joyfully, playfully. Their knowing touches were those of a couple deeply in love and experienced in demonstrating it.

Laura suddenly pulled back, shuddering slightly, breathing raggedly, cheeks flushed. "We still have a lot to talk about -- the lawyers, Lulu and Luke, Nikolas...."

"Not now, Laura. Later. Please."

She nodded, stepped back, shrugged off her ivory negligee, and came to him.
__ __ __

Stefan rolled onto his side and smoothed Laura's damp hair back from her forehead.

"I have people looking into the causes of the woman's death, but I do not expect to hear anything for another day or two. If it is suspicious, we will continue the investigation."

"I used to be pretty good at disguises myself. I could've gotten you any information you wanted. "Slip in, slip out. No big deal." Laura grinned.

"No doubt. But there are a number of reasons to keep you out of this situation."

"What are they?" asked Laura, beginning to look stubborn.

First, I do not wish to explain to Nikolas and Lucky that their mother must be bailed out of jail before we can sit down to Thanksgiving dinner."

"And," he let his hand trail suggestively down her neck, "my second reason is quite selfish. I prefer that you wear 'disguises' only for me, in the privacy of our bedroom."

He pretended to think. "However, if you truly want to do this sort of, umm, undercover work, I believe they call it, you would need to see me for an interview. It is a bad practice to hire anyone without careful examination of their credentials. Perhaps tomorrow night about this time. Let me check my appointment book."

Laura caught him as he rolled away. "Very, very funny. You've become quite the comedian!"

"Because you make me happy. As a boy I never understood why the others were pleased at holidays. One had to go home then, and I had no idea what that meant to others. Now, I do." He pulled her back into his arms, and she put her head on his shoulder.

"Because you make me so happy, I want everyone else to be safe and happy also. That is why I spoke to you about adopting Lesley Lu. Have you given it any further thought?"

"I marched into Luke's office on Tuesday night to tell him that you wanted to adopt Lulu. But as we talked, I realized that he does love her. They're just having trouble connecting."

Stefan fastidiously realigned her wedding and engagement rings before bringing her left hand to rest on his face. "Does he plan to become a consistent presence in her life?"

"I think so. He seems to feel badly about all the wasted time. Luke probably blew up at you this week, because he visited Lulu here. I imagine it was a painful reminder of how little he knows about her. He had never even seen her bedroom."

"Do you anticipate a need to see more of Luke while he and Lesley Lu become better acquainted?"

"They just need time to get to know each other, to become comfortable together. All I - all we - can do is allow them the time they need."

He kissed the knuckles of her captive hand one by one before asking, "Are you sure this relationship is worth risking her unhappiness should he fail her again?"

"Better, I think for the two of them to try to salvage some kind or relationship. I don't want Lulu, when she's an adult, to lie awake in the early morning hours, wondering who her father was. Why she never knew him."

"As you do, Laura?"

"It doesn't happen often any more. I'm trying hard to do what's in Lulu's best interests, not project my own needs onto her. Do you think I'm overreacting, because my own father died before I ever had a chance to meet him?"

Stefan smiled ruefully. "I wish that I thought you were. Then I might use my not inconsiderable powers of persuasion to convince you to let me adopt Lesley Lu. It would please me to completely remove Luke from our daily lives. I cannot deny it."

"You aren't going to do that though, are you?"

"No. If, at long last, he is prepared to behave honorably toward her, I will not interfere at this time. I neither like nor respect him, but I will tolerate a rapprochement between them unless he abandons or hurts her again in some way. Should that happen, I would not hesitate to move against him."

Laura kissed his cheek. "Thank you for trusting me."

"What do you mean 'for trusting you'?"

Laura hesitated. "It had occurred to me that you might feel threatened by the idea of Luke regaining a foothold in our lives." Her eyes glistened. "Here we are on another island with an infant son. I was afraid that you might think..."

Stefan whispered against her temple. "Shh. Don't, Laura. Don't punish yourself any more. Luke's presence in our lives will always make me uneasy. That I cannot deny. But I no longer fear abandonment -at least not in my waking hours.

"And you are no longer a mistreated, frightened girl. You are a woman, and came to me of your own accord." He kissed the top of her head.

"I have never been good at trusting people. I hurt Luke so badly by not trusting him with the truth about you and Nikolas. He couldn't forgive me for that."

Stefan grunted. "Luke is an ass. You knew he could not forgive you if he knew the truth, and you were correct. You never learned to trust, because the people in your life could not be trusted. It was not some sort of flaw inborn in you. You learned through painful experience that you could not trust others. As I did."

"It was worse for you." Laura stroked his face thoughtfully.

"That may be true. A landscape with no secure foothold, where every step forward is a step into the unknown, was my native terrain. And yours. Both of us knew how it felt to be perpetually unsure of ourselves. Perhaps it was that understanding which led to our ability to forgive each other so much."

"It feels wonderful not to have any secrets, any hidden agendas. To lie here in your arms and talk to you this honestly means everything to me, Stefan. "

Stefan's body tensed as he asked "What if you discovered another breach of trust, Laura? A huge one? How would you react?"

The deep blue of her eyes clouded. "I don't know," she said simply. "I hope we never have to find out."

"We are both tired," he whispered, stroking her hair, "and Sergei will be awake early."

He turned off the bedside lamp and pulled her into his arms again. "I sleep best this way," he smiled.

But long after Laura had drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Stefan lay awake, cradling her in his arms, wondering if her fragile sense of security could survive the trials that surely lay ahead.
__ __ __

The well-dressed man halted outside the entrance to Luke's on Friday afternoon, and checked the address he had jotted down in his appointment book. This appeared to be it. He looked at the monkeys on either side of the front door with some amazement, shrugged, and pushed the door open. Just inside the door he stopped and looked about in a bemused fashion - a not infrequent response for first time visitors to Luke's.

A tall, lanky fellow stood behind the bar smiling. "Hello. We're about half an hour and my best cook away from taking orders for food, but would you like a drink?"

"You must be Luke," the man said. He smiled engagingly, and stuck out his hand. "My friends call me Stu, and a number of them are playing here tonight. I'm supposed to meet them in about half an hour. They said they'd drop their instruments off here and we'd go out for dinner. Not knowing my way around, I gave myself plenty of time to find this place, and I'm a bit early."

"Dom, David, Theo and those guys? Yeah, they play here every week. Been doin' it for years now. Kind of blow off steam here and go back to their real world jobs the next day. Nice fellas." Luke nodded. "How about that drink?"

"It's early for me," Stu said, "but I could use a cup of coffee."

He sat down at the bar and Luke had just set a mug of coffee in front of him, when Wenders entered the club.

"Wenders, my man. Look at the wall. I have made your life and mine one hundred percent easier." Luke jerked a thumb toward the wall behind him, where a small velvet curtain veiled something from sight.

"Excellent, Mr. Spencer. Thank you very much. I'll get Miss Spencer now."

The door closed and opened again almost immediately. A small-dark haired girl burst through the door wearing a backpack and carrying an overnight bag. "Hi, Daddy," she sang out.

"Straight to my office, baby." Stu noticed the grin on the man's face as he continued speaking to the child. "I've got a change of clothes waiting. You need some work duds tonight. We have big plans."

"Okay," she responded, and made for the office.

That's my Lulu," he said to his new customer, "and she is one too!"

Stu smiled and continued pretending to drink the abominable coffee. He hoped this cheerful man didn't try to make a living off food service, if this was his best effort.

A crash from the kitchen accompanied by a string of profanity drew Luke's attention in that direction just as the little girl emerged from the office wearing a sweat shirt under overalls, and carrying a baseball cap.

"Lookin' good," said Luke, "but you need the cap for style." He motioned for her to come behind the bar, then reached down, placed the cap on her head, and turned it backwards.

Another eruption from the kitchen suggested eminent warfare.

Dragging a footstool from under the bar, he placed Lulu on it near Stu. "I have a problem that needs my attention. This is my customer, Stu. You look after him while I'm gone." He started off.

"Okay, Daddy. Good afternoon, Mr. Stu, sir. If I may be of assistance, please inform me."

Luke grimaced and came back. "Not like that. Don't be polite, Just you know," he made circles with his hand, "talk normal, like we've been practicing." A plate sailed through the serving hatch and crashed against the bar. "I have to go. They're throwing things in there. Big things!"

"Start over, Princess." He backed away anxiously, his attention divided between watching her and preparations for dodging flying crockery.

"Hi" said Lulu.

"Better. Keep it up." Luke called as he turned and raced into the kitchen. His loud voice soon quelled the tumult among the kitchen staff.

"I have never heard a child enjoined against courtesy before," remarked Stu, pushing the dreadful coffee away.

The little girl responded thoughtfully. "Adults are often confusing. I have noticed that a lot recently."

She leaned on the bar, and looked deliberately at Stu's coffee. "Sophie is daddy's number one short order cook, but when she's not here, things don't go so well. That means Daddy made the coffee today.

"Do you like tea? Daddy keeps tea here for my grandmother. There is hot water over there, and I could get you a cup."

The man smiled and pushed his gray hair back with one hand. "I would be very grateful for tea, young lady. Can you reach the water safely?"

"Yes, sir. Do you want Earl Grey or Darjeeling? My grandmother favors Earl Grey this time of day."

"An excellent choice. Thank you."

Lulu carefully returned carrying a mug filled with hot water and a tea bag. She placed them on a shelf under the bar, climbed onto her stool, reached down and transferred the tea to the bar counter.

"Well done," the man smiled, reaching gratefully for the mug. " Could you tell me something about the decor here? Who decorated this establishment?"

"Daddy, I think. Probably with my brother Lucky's help. There would be some plants here if my mother had helped."

"It's certainly interesting. Not much left out I'd say."

"A gargoyle of two is always a nice touch," Lulu responded, looking around the room as if seeking the perfect spot for one.

"Certainly." Her customer suppressed his smile.

"That curtain," said the little girl, still contemplating the vagaries of adult behavior, "is new, and quite confusing. I am not allowed to see the picture underneath it, because my Papa says it is vulgar."

"He must be very protective of you, and that, I suspect, is a good thing," commented her new acquaintance.

"Yes," responded the little girl, "but we have seen pictures much like that one at museums, and there they were not vulgar, but culture."

"I can quite see your confusion." Stu smiled sympathetically.

"You have a very nice smile," Lesley Lu observed. "Almost as nice as my mother's. Do you know the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland? When my mom leaves the room her smile stays, and you feel nice even after she's gone."

"Thank you for the compliment. I have been told I have a big smile."

"Well, big and nice are different." Lesley Lu warmed to her topic. "That one over there," she turned and looked at the velvet curtain on the wall, "has a big smile too, but it isn't nice. And it stays in the room with you after she has gone. But you wish it hadn't."

"An unpleasant smile, eh?" Stu wondered who they were talking about.

"Badder than bad," she agreed solemnly. "The baddest, except that isn't a word is it?"

The door opened again and the little girl's eyes flickered, but she didn't acknowledge the newcomer, whoever it was. Without missing a beat, she continued, "Have you ever noticed that English sometimes isn't logical?"

"Exactly," he said with satisfaction, "and here I can help you. I am interested in linguistics. These odd word patterns have a great deal to do with the history of our language. How it evolved over time, you see...."

The conversation continued along these general lines, and to their mutual satisfaction for several minutes before yet another patron entered the bar. This time the little girl spoke at once.

"Papa, have you come to wish me a happy weekend? We waited at the hospital, but they said your meeting would be quite protracted."

"Yes, it only recently concluded, and I came here immediately. "What on earth are you wearing?"

Stu turned and saw an attractive blonde man crossing the room. His overcoat was almost certainly cashmere, and his shoes hand-stitched, probably Italian. A distinctive signet ring on his right hand flashed as he placed his hand on the bar. Stu didn't wonder that this newcomer looked with astonishment at the child's worn overalls.

"Daddy got these things at the thrift shop around the corner. They are called work duds."

"Why are you wearing them? Your own clothing is far more suitable."

"Uncle Mike is helping me with a little motor tonight. Remember? I told you about it before. It gets messy." Lesley Lu glanced at Stu and blushed a little.

"Oh, Papa. Mr. Stu. Excuse my manners.

"Mr. Stu," she said deferring to the elder man, "May I present my stepfather, Mr. Stefan Cassadine? Papa, may I present our customer, Mr. Stu?"

The men shook hands formally, and Stu invited Stefan to sit down. He was beginning to be glad he had come early. He had not expected to be so well-entertained by a chance meeting with strangers.

"Would you like tea also, Papa?" Lulu asked.

He agreed, and she hopped off the stool as she had before.

"Your stepdaughter is charming," said Stu. "It has been a pleasure to meet her this afternoon."

"Thank you very much. It is important to my wife and me that she be well-mannered. Do you know where Luke might happen to be?"

"I can understand your concern, but Luke has been gone a very few minutes. He is just inside the kitchen," Stu assured Stefan.

Lulu returned with tea, and leaned against the counter, listening to the two men chat casually.

When Luke emerged from the rear, Stefan stood to go, but stopped to shake hands with his new acquaintance. He looked at Lulu as if unsure what to do, and then at Stu. "Excuse me," he said apologetically. He turned back toward Lulu, reached across the bar, cupped her face in his hands, and spoke briefly in a quiet flood of Russian before nodding once more to his new acquaintance and leaving the building.

"Does your stepfather always revert to Russian for intimate conversation?" inquired Stu.

"No, not at home. But ordinarily he doesn't use his smiling face in public either. He keeps it private. But he liked you, Mr. Stu, and so do I." Lesley Lu grinned at him.

Luke called from the kitchen door. "Time to go."

With a last wave and a smile Lulu was off. Stu gave a moment's thought to the disparate personalities of the men who appeared to be trying to mold the little girl, then glanced wearily at his watch, wondering how much longer he would be forced to wait for his friends. Catching a whiff of an exotic scent he looked up to find a rather beautiful woman of about his own age standing near him.

"The little girl is right, you know. My son doesn't usually 'use his smiling face' much at all. He was unusually civil to you. And if you are of interest to him, then you are almost certainly of interest to me as well."

The woman smiled, walked deliberately across the room, and pulled a cord, exposing the picture hidden behind the velvet curtain.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Helena Cassadine."