Sly had actually called her with the good news himself. She could not believe her ears when that sweet, sexy voice came over the line. Of course, it seemed more hesitant and unsure than it used to, but it was unmistakably Sly. She was a little disappointed that they didn't have a full conversation, but he had assured her that he had some things he wanted to say to her face to face.
The news had brought some worry, however. What was life going to be like now? How was Sly going to react to being at their apartment again, the scene of his horrible self-punishment? Emily winced when she thought about that, and the condition of their home. There was a gaping hole in the sliding glass door, and the entire area was splattered with Sly's blood. She hadn't even thought of it until she knew that he was coming home. Emily had mentioned it to her mother, but she said she'd take care of it.
Emily had to admit that her parents were being wonderful during this difficult time. She didn't have to worry about finances, for now anyway. Her parents were picking up Sly's hospital bill, and Monica had set up that interview for Sly. She wanted to believe that this was a good sign. However, Emily knew better. She still had a sinking feeling that things weren't going to be easier for them anytime soon. She shook her head and her long brown hair swung back and forth. She wanted to banish those thoughts, at least for the time being. This should be a happy moment. "It's going to be a good day," she said as she patted her extremely rounded stomach. "Daddy's coming home."
When she approached Sly's room, she looked tentatively through the small window. The blue and white curtain was drawn around the bed. She knocked softly before opening the door. "Is it ok if I come in?" she asked.
She saw only one silhouette on the curtain, and heard some strange grunting noises from behind it. "It's just me, Emily, you can come in," Sly said through what sounded like gritted teeth.
"Are you ok, Sly?" Emily asked. "You sound like you're in pain."
"It's not pain, it's frustration," Sly mumbled.
After a few more moments of listening to what sounded like Sly struggling with something, Emily mocked knocking on the curtain. "Sly, do you need some help in there?"
A deep sigh emanated from behind the curtain. "This is so freaking embarrassing," Sly said softly.
"It's probably not as bad as you think, Sly," Emily said carefully. "And I am your wife. You can't do much to surprise me now," she said.
"Yeah, I guess not," Sly said sadly from behind the curtain.
Sly's response suddenly made Emily aware of her double-edged comment. She wasn't sure what to say now. "I'm so…" was all she got out before Sly opened the curtain.
What she saw erased what she was planning to say. Sly was standing in front of his bed half-naked. He was wearing a pair of blue plaid boxer shorts, but his jeans were down around his ankles. His button down shirt was awkwardly placed on his left arm and shoulder, but it wasn't on his right side. His expression was a mix of frustration and helplessness, which reminded Emily of a little boy who had tried to be "grown up" but had gotten in over his head. She couldn't help but giggle at the sight.
"Oh sure, laugh," Sly said in a mock serious tone. "But do you know how hard it is to try to dress yourself with one hand? I have a newfound respect for people who are really missing an appendage," he commented.
"So let me guess, you were trying to do this without any help?" Emily asked with a voice full of good humor. She could tell that even Sly was finding some of the comedy in his predicament.
Sly nodded. "You know me, I'm stubborn. I don't need help with anything, so I decided to do this, but as usual, I'm a miserable failure," he said self-deprecatingly.
Emily touched his face, and he looked up at her. "Hey, don't say that. You're not a failure," she said sincerely. "There's no shame in asking for help, you know."
Sly looked deeply into her brown eyes. "Help," he said simply.
Emily suddenly felt like something deep had taken place at that moment, something good. She smiled at her husband. "I think that can be arranged." She surveyed the situation. "Ok, can you reach down with your left hand and pull up your pants? It's really hard for me to bend down that far anymore."
Sly nodded. "I can pull them up to about mid-thigh, but then I don't have the other hand to pull on them, so they always fall down." He crouched down and grabbed the jeans with his left hand, and then pulled them up halfway.
"That's good," Emily said, and she pulled them up the rest of the way.
"I can at least get the zipper," Sly said, and he zipped the jeans up and buttoned the top button.
Emily then turned her attention to the shirt Sly was half-wearing. "Now why are you having so much trouble with the shirt?" she asked. "It shouldn't be that difficult to put on."
Sly shook his head. "I guess I should have tried to put it on my right side first, but for some reason, I put it on my left instead."
Emily smiled. "Ok, then, turn around." Sly complied, and she stretched out the shirt in back of him. "Now put your right arm back through the sleeve." He did, and Emily turned him around. "Now let's attend to these buttons," she said playfully.
Sly looked at Emily as she buttoned the shirt. It seemed so natural for her to be helping him. He hoped that he'd be able to help her in return once the baby came.
Emily made her way up to the top button. Just then, she realized she and Sly were mere inches from each other for the first time in what felt like forever. She was surprised when Sly didn't back away or recoil from her touch. She finished with the last button, but didn't move. "Wow, when was the last time we were this close?" she asked, trying to be honest.
Sly swallowed hard at the question. "I don't know," he said hesitantly. He was fighting the urge to move away from Emily. He didn't want to take any chances that he might hurt her, but he remembered what Luke had said a few days ago. If he moved away from Emily, cut himself off from her, then he was going to rob both himself and Emily of the opportunity to be close again, to feel loved. His grandfather didn't want him to feel loved by anyone. I'm not going to let him win, Sly thought. I'm going to stand right here. "I want to change that, Emily," Sly said finally.
Emily took his left hand in hers. "Do you know how good it sounds to just hear your voice?" she said seriously. "Don't shut me out like that again," Emily sighed.
Sly didn't say anything; he sat on the bed instead. Emily joined him. They sat in silence for a moment as Sly jiggled his foot nervously. After a long pause, Sly finally spoke.
"I know what it's like to be shut out. I know what it's like to live with someone, see them every day, and yet not know a single thing about them, or what they're feeling. It's hell," Sly said honestly. He turned to Emily. "And I swore to myself that I would never do that to someone else, but I did, and here we are," he said in a very resigned tone. "I seem to break a lot of promises with myself."
"Yeah, well, I've done that too," Emily whispered.
"I had my reasons for shutting you out, which I thought were noble at the time. To be perfectly honest with you, I don't think I've ever let anyone see my true self. I'm afraid…" he started, but didn't finish. He closed his eyes.
"Don't stop, Sly," Emily said gently. "What are you afraid of?"
Sly opened his eyes again and turned to Emily. "I'm afraid that if I show anyone my real self, they're going to be so scared that they'll never want to be with me. What happens when you open your heart but only demons spill out?" He looked to Emily with haunted eyes, awaiting a response.
Emily's heart ached at Sly's pain. She tried to choose her words very carefully because she didn't want to upset him more than he already was. She took a deep breath before answering. "Well, if that happens, then maybe that's a good thing. That way the demons won't be trapped inside anymore. They won't be able to keep torturing you if you just let them out," she said quietly.
Sly put his hand under his chin for a moment. "Emily, I hope for both of our sakes that you are right."
"Oh come on, Sly, you know that I'm always right," she said seriously. She was rewarded with a small grin from her husband.
"Of course," he said, and then stopped for a second. "Emily, I know this is going to sound weird, but would it be ok if I kissed you?" he asked slowly, shyly. "I know I have no right, but…"
Emily very gently placed a finger to Sly's lips. "Don't worry about that Sly. I love you, and of course I want you to kiss me. It's ok."
Sly leaned in to give her a kiss. He wasn't sure if he should do it, but he was willing to try. He gave her a quick, awkward peck on the lips then pulled away. It felt almost strange being affectionate with her again, but it was an ok strange.
Emily's heart was relieved when Sly kissed her. It felt so good to feel his lips against hers again, even if it was a hesitant kiss. One step after another, one day at a time, Emily thought, recalling her drug counseling. She looked to where she had put down a duffel bag before. "So, do you want to pack up your things?"
Sly nodded and got off the bed. He put the bag on the bed. "You hold it open and I'll put the stuff in." He gathered up his clothes, which was mostly pajamas. He noted the clothes he was wearing the day he was admitted were not among them. Probably ruined with all the blood he lost. He put his note pad and marker in the bag, then took a small pill bottle from the nightstand and put it on top of the pile in the bag.
"What's this?" Emily asked.
"My brain medicine," Sly said in a ghoulish voice. He turned over the bottle to read the label. "Sertraline, 50 mg a day, to be taken with food."
"What is that?" Emily asked.
"It's an anti-depressant Dr. Baldwin prescribed. She thinks it will help with my post-traumatic stress disorder," Sly said, emphasizing the words.
"What's wrong, Sly? The medicine should help, right?" Emily said, her brown eyes searching Sly's body language.
Sly had his arms crossed in front of his chest. "I've lived my life for years, Emily, and no one has said there was anything seriously wrong with me," Sly said with a hint of anger in his voice.
"I don't know, Sly, but maybe you hid your problems so well that no one knew anything was wrong," Emily said logically.
Sly sighed. "You're probably right." He shrugged his shoulders. "It's just strange to have a definitive diagnosis like that." He held out his hand. "Meet your mentally ill husband," he said sadly.
Emily shook his left hand awkwardly. "Then meet your addict wife. It's ok, Sly, really. We both have problems, but we're going to get through them. Together," she said firmly. "That's what a family does."
There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Sly called.
A nurse walked in. "Well, I'm surprised to see you dressed already. Did you get some help from your wife?" she asked.
Sly looked over to Emily and smiled. "Yeah. More than you know."
"Well, good," the nurse said briskly. "The occupational therapist should teach you to do that on your own soon. But until then, I come bearing good tidings." She handed Sly some papers. "You are officially discharged."
Sly smiled. "Great. It will be good to get out of here."
The nurse smiled back as she walked out of the room. "I'll send an orderly to bring a wheelchair. It was nice to know you, Sly, but I hope we never meet again." She walked out briskly.
"Me neither," Sly whispered.
Emily smiled at her husband. "I couldn't wait for this day. It's time to finally take you home."
*-*-*-*-*-*
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was back in Florida."
Lucky looked over his shoulder to see his cousin Carly walking into the backyard with Michael. She was dressed in full movie star mode in a white tank top and black capri pants. She wore matching black slides and black sunglasses. Her blonde hair flowed down her back. She held Michael's hand. He was wearing swim trunks and carrying a small duffel bag. A guard trailed discreetly behind them.
"I think they call this unseasonable warmth," Lucky said, smiling at his cousin.
Carly crouched down to Michael's level. She pointed to further in the yard to a small blue kiddie pool. "Look, there's your cousin Lulu. Do you want to go swimming with her?"
"Yes!" Michael responded enthusiastically, and Lesley Lu waved at him. He dropped the bag and ran over to her as he tugged on his shirt.
"Leave the shirt on Michael!" Carly called after him. "We put on sunscreen but you still need it!"
"Ok," he said, then promptly jumped into the pool with Lesley Lu.
"Lucky, I think this was a great idea," Carly said as she joined her cousin who was sitting on a picnic table in the backyard.
"I figured since Michael doesn't have a backyard, he might enjoy ours. Plus, I thought he and my sister should get to know each other better," Lucky said, leaning back to appreciate a cool breeze on the hot spring day.
"Like the two of us, right?" Carly said as she watched her son playing happily with his cousin.
"Exactly. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that I don't want to ever take things for granted, like getting to know my own family," Lucky said with a wistful smile.
Carly nodded. "Well, in the interest of getting to know each other better, I think you'll be happy to know that I've decided to take some interior design courses at PCU starting this summer."
Lucky looked surprised, but he laughed. "I was going to tell you today that I'm taking classes there, too."
"ESP, I'm telling you," Carly laughed.
"We'll be co-eds together. How do you want to decorate our dorm room?" Lucky grinned.
"Oh, never again," Carly said with a shake of her head. "Don't forget, I already have a bachelor's in physical therapy."
"That's right," Lucky said as he watched his little sister play. "Well, I figured it was time to get going on my own degree. I'm starting with the basic courses: English, Math, you know. I think I'm going to major in computer science."
"Going for the big bucks," Carly commented. She observed Lucky. Even though he was seated on top of the picnic table in a relaxed, leaned back position, he kept looking over his shoulder behind them. Finally, Carly looked back, too. Her guard, Patrick, was standing beside a tree, keeping a close eye on Michael and herself. Suddenly, she thought of what her cousin had told her about his time at the compound, and the constant supervision by the guards. She turned back to Lucky. "He's bothering you, huh?"
Lucky tried to brush it off. "Nah, it's ok," he said softly.
Carly didn't believe Lucky's nonchalant attitude. She got up off the picnic table and walked over to Patrick.
"Carly, you don't have to do this, really," he said as he watched her walk to the suit-clad man.
"Patrick, do you think you could be a little less conspicuous? My cousin's had some hard times, and I think it's making him nervous that you're watching all of us," Carly explained.
Patrick nodded. "I'll go around the other side of the house and stand back in the shrubbery. I'll still be able to see, but I won't be as noticeable."
"Thank you," Carly smiled, and Patrick walked back around the house. She strolled back to Lucky, taking off her sunglasses. "There, was that so hard?"
"I feel like such a baby. I should be able to have someone watch me," Lucky said sadly.
"Hey kid, give yourself time. No one expects you to just forget what happened," Carly said logically as she seated herself again.
Lucky shook his head. "I don't think you realized it, but you sounded an awful lot like my dad just now."
Carly raised her eyebrow. "I'm not sure how to take that comment," she said as evenly as she could.
Lucky ran a hand through his short brown hair. "I think the real reason the two of you don't get along is that you're a lot alike. You're both brutally honest, unsentimental, yet fiercely loyal. You aren't afraid to stand up for what you believe in, and that's going to result in some tension. Neither of you are going to back down."
Carly didn't say anything at first. She placed her elbows on her knees and folded her hands under her chin. "So, basically you're saying I'm a stubborn Spencer," she said finally.
"I guess," Lucky said. "I can see a lot of that spirit in you." Lucky looked closely at his cousin. "I can appreciate that. That spirit got me through a really rough time. I don't think I've ever really thanked you properly for when you stayed with me that day at Kelly's, and all the days afterwards," he said sincerely.
Carly looked back to Lucky. "Was I just supposed to ignore you?"
Lucky shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just trying to say that you didn't have to care. I certainly didn't give you any reason to. You did anyway, and I just wanted to say thank you," his blue eyes shining with a few tears.
Carly reached out and put a hand on Lucky's shoulder. "You said it before, I'm not into that sentimental crap." She looked deeply into his eyes. "But you're family, my blood. I don't think I ever really understood what that meant until a few years ago. After everything that I put Bobbie through, she still found it somewhere in her heart to forgive me, to accept me. Now that I have Michael, I realize how she did that. I know that there is nothing that he can do, nothing that he can say, that will ever make me stop loving him," she said with quiet conviction. "Maybe that's what family is: a bunch of people thrown together by fate or coincidence, but bonded by something a lot deeper. That unexplainable connection keeps pulling you back. That's why I care about you, Lucky. A part of you is a part of me."
Lucky was awed by Carly's insight. He looked at her appreciatively. "My cousin, the philosopher," he said finally.
Carly patted him on the arm. "Yeah, don't get used to it," she said sarcastically. She and Lucky turned back to the kids in the pool. The older girl was teaching her cousin how to kick his legs to push himself forward on a small float.
"I hope Lulu and Michael are going to be close," Lucky said as he observed the lesson.
Carly nodded. "They will be. Like it or not, they're tied at the heart."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Emily attempted to extract her keys from her purse as she and Sly walked down the hallway to their apartment. Sly hung back a little, clutching the duffel bag tightly in his left hand.
"I'm glad that Reginald could drive us here," Emily said, still digging. "Unfortunately, neither of us is in the condition to get behind the wheel."
"It's going to take me a while to get to the point where I'll be able to drive again," Sly said, looking up at the ceiling. "I've got five more weeks in this splint thing, then it's physical therapy. I'll be lucky if I can hold a guitar pick anymore."
"You will, Sly," Emily said. Finally, she found the keys at the very bottom of the purse, where they always seemed to end up. "Success!" she said, as if she had made a great discovery.
Sly took a deep breath as he looked at their door. "I'm not sure I want to go in there," he suddenly blurted out before his mind had time to process the words.
Emily turned to her husband. "I know, Sly," she said sympathetically. She had spoken to Gail, and she had said that this would probably be Sly's reaction. "You don't want to go back to where you put your hand through the glass."
"No, I don't," he said nervously. "What if I break down when I see the door again? What if I lose it?"
Emily rubbed a little on Sly's arm. "Think about it logically. What are the chances of that happening? I'd say you've done a lot of thinking, and you're not nearly as sad or desperate as the last time you were here," Emily said, feeling a pang in her chest at the memory. "I know it's going to be hard to face this, but you're not alone. We can do it, together." She reached out and took Sly's good hand, which was shaking a little.
"Ok," he said slowly. "The moment of truth arrives. You can open the door," he tried to say with as much courage as he could muster.
Emily put the key in the lock and swung open the door. The apartment was immaculate, and there were several plates of food on the dining room table. However, both Emily and Sly's eyes were drawn straight ahead to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony. The sun streamed in through the perfectly clear and intact window. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Sly wasn't sure what to make of that.
Just then, Monica popped out of the kitchen. "Oh, you're home," she said. "We've spent all day getting ready for your arrival." Alan, Jenny and Paul also walked out of the small area.
"Well, this is a surprise," Emily said as she put her purse down on the coffee table.
"We don't want you to think that we're ambushing you. We just wanted to help you get everything back in order around here," Jenny said, approaching Sly. "It's good to see you up and around again, honey," she said, and she gave him a hug, which Sly returned tentatively.
Alan pointed to the glass. "We got someone to fix that door a while ago. It's as good as new."
"Sure," Emily said. If only I could fix my relationship with Sly as easily.
"Your aunt, Alan, Monica and I spent the morning cleaning the apartment. We did laundry, made your bed, went grocery shopping, all of those annoying little chores," Paul said as cheerfully as he could.
"And we cooked a pot roast," Jenny said, smiling at Sly and Emily.
Emily looked at her parents. "This must have been unfamiliar territory," she said with a raised eyebrow.
Monica chuckled. "I've forgotten how it feels to have a kitchen!"
"Well, I haven't forgotten how to do laundry, or why I'm glad that I don't have to do it anymore," Alan teased.
"All of the food is ready. Are you two feeling up to a meal right now?" Jenny suggested.
Sly and Emily looked at each other, still amazed their respective families were working together. "Yeah, I think we can eat now," Emily answered.
Everyone sat down at the table in the dining room. Sly deliberately took one of the seats farthest away from the sliding door. Emily noticed. She sat next to him and gave him a reassuring pat on the hand.
Everyone was busy passing around the various dishes and plates, serving themselves. They began to eat, and suddenly, the food was the most fascinating thing they had ever seen, because everyone stared down at their plates. The awkward silence was conspicuous.
Sly felt strange being back in the apartment, and being suddenly confronted with his aunt and uncle, not to mention his in-laws. After poking at his roast beef for a while, his curiosity got the best of him. He put down his fork, which made a loud clatter on his plate. "Ok, will someone please explain what's going on?" he asked in a perplexed voice.
The four older adults shared a look across the table. No one made an attempt to answer for a moment. Finally, Alan took the floor. "I know that the both of you are probably wondering why we're all getting along. It's because we recognized that fighting amongst ourselves isn't helping you one bit."
"We've realized that we have been handling a lot of things the wrong way. I, for one, owe Emily a big apology for my comments the other day," Jenny said sincerely. "I was speaking from a place of anger and fear, and I took out those feelings on you. I'm sorry," she said, locking eyes with Emily.
Emily was touched by Jenny's confession. "It's ok," she said softly.
Sly looked at his aunt and wondered what had happened between her and his wife. Jenny then gave him an 'I'll explain later' look.
"And Sly, both Alan and I have realized that we haven't been the most supportive in-laws a young man could have. We've been distant, and that is something we plan on rectifying," Monica said with a nod of her head.
"Ok," Sly sputtered out, surprised to hear those frank words.
"For better or for worse, we're now a family. It's high time we started acting like one," Paul said definitively.
"All for one and one for all?" Sly commented somewhat suspiciously. He couldn't believe what they were saying.
"Yeah, something like that," Jenny smiled.
"The baby is due in less than a month, and there's still a lot to be done. However, if we work together, we should be able to get everything set and ready," Alan said, looking at his daughter and her stunned expression.
"This sounds a little too good to be true," Sly said skeptically. "What's the catch?"
Monica shook her head. "No catches, no strings. Instead, think of it as a renewal, a refocusing of our attention to where it truly belongs."
Sly and Emily shared a look of disbelief tempered with a bit of optimism. "Does this sound ok to you?" Emily asked.
"It does," Sly said, still amazed at the display of unity.
"Wonderful," Jenny said excitedly. "Would everyone join me in a toast, then?"
The group lifted their sunflower-adorned glasses and looked to her.
Jenny smiled. "To the first day of renewed cooperation within our family.
Sly and Emily, welcome home."