Sly named all of the objects draped somewhere over his body. "Diaper bag, baby gifts, suitcase, paperwork." He smiled at Emily, who was seated in a wheelchair. "And you've got Jude. I think we're all set." He looked down to the baby. "You ready to go home, big guy?"
Emily frowned. "He's not really that big, Sly. Only 6 pounds, 7 ounces."
"I know," Sly said softly. "I guess it's true. Teenagers have lower birth weight babies."
Emily turned her head around rapidly. "So you're saying it's my fault?" she said shortly, color rising in her cheeks.
Sly grimaced. "No, I'm not saying that at all." He ruffled Emily's hair a bit. "Besides, you know he's going to grow up and tower over us one day."
Emily shifted away from his touch. "Let's just leave, ok? I'm really tired."
"All right," Sly said, attempting to shift the weight of the bags on his shoulders. He finally got them all in bearable positions, then gripped the handles of the wheelchair and began to push Emily and Jude along.
As they left, a few of the nurses at the station smiled and waved. Emily just couldn't muster any enthusiasm or energy to smile back. She wondered sometimes if she would ever recover from this. She thought since she was younger, she would somehow bounce back easier. Why did women keep having babies once they knew how painful it was?
They stopped in front of the elevator doors, and Emily got a sinking feeling. She probably wouldn't be able to trust them again.
"It should be nice to go home, right?" Sly asked, trying to keep up a steam of cheerful conversation.
"Mmm-hmm," Emily murmured, closing her eyes for a moment.
"Well, everything is ready at home. I made sure of it. It's all there: the crib, the diapers, the blankets…"
"Sly, can you just be quiet, please?" Emily said, holding a hand to her head.
"Sorry," Sly said with frustration. Didn't Emily understand he was just trying to help?
The elevator finally dinged and both Emily and Sly sighed with relief. As the doors opened, they were surprised when they saw who was inside.
Carly was taken aback to see Sly and Emily and their new baby waiting when the doors opened. "Hi," she breathed when she looked at the new family.
"Carly," Sly said with a slight smile. He had grown to know and like his cousin over the past few months, which might have never even happened if not for the elevator getting stuck on that memorable night.
"Hi, you guys," she said as she stepped off the elevator. "Oh, this is the baby," she exclaimed, stooping to take a better look. "He's beautiful! What's his name?"
"Jude," Sly said proudly.
"Hi, Jude. Nice to finally meet you," Carly said, admiring the baby. She looked up to Emily. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
Emily smiled half-heartedly. Her relationship with Carly had improved a lot, but there was still a bit of tension between them. "Oh, all right, I guess."
"I'm sure you'll feel better once you get adjusted at home," Carly said, rising and smoothing out the wrinkles in her long black skirt. "Make sure you take care of yourself as well as the baby."
Emily suddenly felt an intense wave of shame come over her. Carly was genuinely being nice to her, and it reminded her of another time in her life when Carly had attempted to give her advice.
*-*-*-*-*-*
(Author's note: This is an actual GH scene from 2000.)
Sonny and Carly had just caught Emily and Juan making out on the couch in Jason's penthouse. Sonny brought Juan across the hall, and Carly was attempting to provide some guidance about sex, but Emily didn't want to hear it.
"I don't want to wait," Emily said petulantly.
"Because you think you're in love," Carly responded.
"I am in love," Emily insisted, perhaps too forcefully, as if she were trying to convince herself.
Carly sighed. "Ok, fine. I mean, that's great- if it's real. You and Juan are extremely lucky to have found each other so soon, but just don't- don't forget love, it's more important than not being able to keep your hands off each other. It's also friendship and commitment. And ultimately, it's about trust."
Emily broke out in a fit of derisive laughter.
Carly was annoyed. "Huh?"
Emily spoke through her laughter. "I'm sorry. I really- I can't keep a straight face, you know? Especially with someone like you telling me about commitment and trust. Especially after you betrayed Jason with Sonny, I…"
At this, Carly lost all patience with the teenager. "You know what? Forget it. I don't have to do this. Emily, you know, I thought I would give you some help, some advice, warn you about a couple of bumps down the road that you might not see coming. But why? Why should I bother? You know what? You're going to learn all by yourself, just like the rest of us lowlifes that operate so far beneath your little Quartermaine radar that we don't even register. Happy landing, baby girl."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Emily blushed deeply when she remembered the conversation, which now took on such meaning. She averted her gaze from Carly, too ashamed to look her in the eye.
"So what brings you up to this floor?" Sly asked, as he pushed the elevator button again, since the car had left while they were talking.
"Oh, I have an appointment with Dr. Newmann," she said with a secret smile.
It took Sly a second to register the comment, but he broke out in a grin when he realized what she meant. "You mean, you're…"
Carly nodded. "Two months along," she said softly. "I'm not taking any chances this time."
As Emily held her own baby, she wished fervently that Carly would get to see her new child, healthy and happy. She reached out and touched Carly's arm.
Carly looked down, a bit surprised.
"That's great, Carly. I only wish you and Sonny the best," she said, hoping Carly would forgive her for acting like such a spoiled brat in the past.
"That goes for me, too," Sly added.
Carly was touched by Emily's genuine goodwill, and she smiled again. "Thanks. That means a lot."
The elevator dinged again, and the doors opened. Sly nodded to his cousin. "Well, we better go. The Doctors Q are waiting with a car for us."
"It was nice to see you again," Carly said as Sly wheeled Emily and Jude into the elevator.
Emily waved a bit to Carly as the doors closed, feeling that reconciliation was somehow just a bit closer.
*-*-*-*-*-*
"Thanks again for driving us," Sly said as he followed behind Alan, who was pushing Emily and Jude in the wheelchair down the hall to their apartment.
"That's certainly something you don't have to thank us for, Sly, really," Monica said, putting her hand on his shoulder as they walked.
"We're the parents, that's what we do," Alan said affirmatively as he looked down admiringly at his daughter and her sleeping infant.
"Yeah, well, not all parents are like you," Sly said sincerely.
Monica and Alan both laughed. "You're certainly right about that," Alan said, finding irony in Sly's comment.
Emily smiled through her fatigue. Her brown eyes were soon curiously focused ahead at a large manila envelope leaning against the door to their apartment. "What's this?" she asked as she drew closer.
Alan stopped the wheelchair to pick up the envelope. "It's addressed to Mrs. Emily Eckert," he said, still having trouble calling his daughter Mrs. Anybody. "You can open it when you're settled."
Sly walked to the front of the near procession and retrieved his keys. "Everyone ready?" Sly asked, as he felt this was a momentous occasion in his young son's life.
"Ready," Emily nodded, and Jude began stirring as he awoke.
Sly turned the key in the lock and threw his weight against the door to open it, jarring it a little, but opening it nonetheless.
"Welcome home, baby," Emily said as Alan wheeled her into the apartment.
Sly wasn't sure what the feeling was that suddenly rose in his chest. Was it happiness, trepidation, or something in the middle of the gray mosaic of human emotion? He decided not to dwell on it, and instead concentrated on making sure Emily and Jude got settled.
Emily was glad to see the bedroom was ready and waiting for her and Jude's arrival. Alan wheeled her over to the bassinette. "I could hold him while you get up," he said, moving to her side to accept his grandson.
Emily just shook her head. "No, I'm going to get up," she said.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Monica said worriedly.
Sly just stood watching quietly. He had decided he would let Emily make decisions on her own with minimal interference from him. It was her life, and he wanted to do his best to always respect her.
"I'll be fine, Mom," Emily said as she made sure she had a firm, yet not too hard grip on her son. She then rose very slowly, steadying her legs and pushing upwards, calling all her strength. It was a lot tougher than she thought it would be to simply stand up. "Ow," she said softly as she placed Jude in the bassinette.
"Come and sit down," Alan said as he led her to the edge of the bed.
"You know, you're not going to be here with me everyday. I don't need you to coddle me," Emily said with some irritation. All she wanted was to be alone with her new family, not be hovered over by her parents.
"We know that, honey, but we just want to help," Monica said softly, feeling a bit stung by Emily's attitude, even though she knew it was probably to be expected.
"I understand," Emily sighed, settling back on the bed, grateful to be home, instead of in the uncomfortable hospital bed she had resided in the past few days.
"Hey, why don't we see what's in the envelope?" Sly asked in an effort to cut the tension. He picked it up from where Alan had left it on the dresser. "Ooh, it's marked 'Board of Education'."
"Go ahead, open it," Emily said. "It's probably more forms or something."
Sly held the envelope to his chest and ripped it open with his good hand. He took out the imitation leather bound document cover that was inside, and opened it. "Wow, Em, it's your diploma," he breathed in admiration.
"Really?" Emily asked, surprised.
"Yeah. Let me read it to you," Sly said. He was smiling proudly, as were Alan and Monica. "The Port Charles Board of Education certifies that Emily Marie Quartermaine Eckert has satisfactorily completed the course of studies at Port Charles High School in conformity with the requirements of high schools as prescribed for the Port Charles Board of Education and is therefore awarded this diploma in testimony whereof we have affixed our signatures this month of May, 2001." Sly laughed after reading the formal, slightly confusing words. "Basically, you graduated, babe. Congratulations." He walked over and handed her the diploma, and kissed her on the cheek.
Emily smiled as she looked over the diploma. "I guess I forgot all about it with everything going on," she said wistfully. "I remember taking all those finals and tests, but I got so caught up afterwards that I forgot this would be coming."
"We're very proud of you, sweetheart," Alan beamed. "We know it wasn't easy finishing school, but you did it."
"It's quite an accomplishment," Monica added.
Emily looked up at both of her parents. "Not quite what you expected my graduation day would be like, huh?" she asked, a bit of sadness in her voice. It certainly wasn't what she expected: caps and gowns, parties and yearbooks.
"No," Monica admitted, "But it doesn't make it any less special."
Emily looked over the diploma one more time, and then she held it over the bassinette. "See, Jude, your Mom's a high school graduate. Most children don't get the honor of attending their mother's commencement, you know. You should be impressed," she joked, feeling a bit more light hearted, and dare she think it, secure.
Sly smiled as well, feeling better when he saw Emily's improving mood. "This is a very special day for everybody," he smiled, sitting down on the bed and draping an arm across Emily's shoulders.
Alan stepped back and whispered to Monica. "We were young and happy once, weren't we?" he asked, with some uncertainty.
"There were days, here and there, I think," Monica said honestly. "But I think we've mellowed with age and wisdom."
"Like a good cheese?" Alan teased with raised eyebrows.
"Oh stop," Monica said, swatting at her husband with a chuckle. She then reached up and gave him a soft kiss. "I guess we were worth fighting for."
Alan smiled. "Well, I'm inclined to agree."
*-*-*-*-*-*
"La la la oh…" Sly tapped his pen against the worn black and white composition style notebook that he favored ever since writing random thoughts and poetry in the fourth grade. He was attempting to write a song from bits and pieces of inspiration from the emotion of the last few days.
He knew Emily and Jude were sleeping somewhat peacefully down the hall, and that made him feel good. It amazed him how quickly he had bonded with his new son. Maybe it was instinct, but maybe it was something deeper. To know he had an absolute responsibility to this little boy was scary, but in a way empowering. Jude was depending on him, and he had to do his very best to protect him, and show him the way.
Emily's parents were still trying their best to do that as well, and they had left a little while earlier, with promises to return early in the morning. Sly knew he and Emily had to learn to live on their own, but he wasn't going to turn down help from Alan and Monica.
There was a soft, yet sharp rap at the front door. Sly ran a hand over his tired eyes and rose from his spot on the couch, placing his notebook and pen on the worn coffee table, currently strewn with various parenting magazines and catalogues.
He looked through the peephole and saw it was his aunt, Jenny, standing with a plastic bag in her hands, and a stormy look on her face. Oh boy, she's going to let me have it, Sly thought, taking a deep breath to try to muster up a surprised expression. He causally opened the door. "Aunt Jenny! I wasn't expecting you."
"You can cut the crap, Sly, you knew darn well I'd be by," Jenny said, walking quickly into the apartment. She shoved the bag into Sly's hand. "Here, it's rigatoni with gravy. I thought you probably wouldn't feel like cooking." She took off her faded jean jacket. "Wasn't it nice that I thought of you? Key word thought."
Sly deposited the bag on the table and turned to face Jenny. "Can I ask why you're so mad at me?"
"Mad doesn't cover it," Jenny said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Arrabbiato?" Sly guessed in Italian, the language his family favored in moments like these.
"That's closer," Jenny sighed. "Sly, why didn't you tell me Emily and Jude were coming home today?"
Sly shifted his weight on his feet a bit. "I dunno," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Didn't you think that was something I should have known?" Jenny stared hard at her nephew, trying to decipher his actions and body language. She often wished for subtitles to help her translate conversations with Sly.
"Yeah, but I was so focused on getting everything ready and making sure they were ok that it slipped my mind," Sly said, crossing in front of Jenny to the living room.
"How do you think it made me feel to go up to visit and find an empty room?" Jenny said, following Sly.
"I'm sorry," Sly said with exasperation. "I'll remember to call you every time I go somewhere."
"That's not what this is about, Sly. This is about you shutting me out. Again." Jenny's blue eyes searched out Sly's, but he refused to meet her gaze.
"No, it's not," Sly said defensively.
"Yes, it is, Sly. You do it all the time. You never tell me anything about your life. You did it before, and you're doing it now."
"That's not true," Sly said, and moved closer to Jenny. "I'm upfront with you."
"When you want to be," Jenny insisted, throwing her arms out in a broad gesture. "But this isn't the first time you've conveniently left out details."
"Great, just go dredge up the past," Sly said, his brown eyes flashing with frustration and a bit of regret.
"What about all the times you've taken off without so much as a note, a phone call? I would stay up nights worried sick."
"What can I say? I wander sometimes," Sly said with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Just like your father," Jenny said seriously. "I never knew where he was half the time. It hurt me, and I know it hurt you, too. I thought you would have learned from his mistakes."
Sly cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around his waist, as if he had suddenly caught a chill. However, he said nothing.
"You didn't even bother to tell me that you were seeing Emily until you got her pregnant. You wouldn't talk to me after you hurt yourself a few months ago," Jenny said softer, squeezing her eyes shut at the image of her beloved nephew trapped in his own silent pain. "Now this," she said, opening her eyes again.
And I never told you about my grandfather, Sly inferred, although it was unspoken. Sly's eyes took in his aunt. She packed a lot of power into her petite 5'3 frame. She was still vibrant, but time and stress had worn her a bit at the edges. Sly knew he was responsible for much of that wear and tear.
"Don't you trust me?" Jenny asked, more desperation than she wanted coming through her voice.
"Of course I do, Jenny," Sly said, leaning heavily against the wall where the hallway started.
"Then why won't you tell me things? I wanted to be there when you brought the baby home, to help you and Emily."
"Her mom and dad were here," Sly commented shortly. "We were fine."
"That doesn't change that Paul and I should have been here. We're family, Sly. You just can't ignore that fact when it's convenient for you," Jenny said, moving closer across the faded tan carpeting.
Sly jerked to the side, feeling the frustration rising. "God, Jenny, you're not my mother!"
There was a sudden silence as the conversation stopped abruptly. When Sly saw the look on Jenny's face, he immediately regretted the words. She stared at him with wide eyes pooling with tears she was too proud to let fall. She held out her hand, pushing it towards Sly, but backing away. "So that's it," she said softly. "We don't share enough of the same genetics for your taste. Never mind I was there for you more than she ever was. She wasn't the one cheering you on at baseball games. She wasn't the one who held your hand at your father's funeral. She wasn't the one who nursed your broken bones and your broken heart."
"I'm sorry, Jenny, I didn't mean it like that," Sly said, feeling Jenny's disappointment in him, and his own disappointment with himself. He stood staring at her from the opposite bank of a raging river.
"Oh, yes you did, Sly. I'd say you're finally being honest with me," Jenny said, a bitter ache filling her heart. "I think somewhere deep inside you, you wanted your parents here with you today, not me. That's why you shut me out. Well, I'm sorry, kid, but I'm all you've got," she whispered forcefully.
"I don't," Sly began, at a loss for words. "I mean, I didn't…" It was no use, because Jenny had grabbed her coat and was already heading for the door. "Aunt Jenny, wait!" he called.
Jenny turned around after she opened the door. "I want you to remember this moment, Sly. Someday Jude is going to look you in the eyes and he's going to say something that will tear your heart in two. Then you'll know how I feel right now," she said her voice finally cracking. "Then you'll know how much I love you." She exited and closed the door with a resounding bang.
Sly winced at the sound as he let a few tears slip down his cheek. "Oh God, what did I do?" he asked aloud.
Just then, Jude emitted a loud cry. Sly wiped his tears and walked back to the bedroom to tend to his son.
Emily was groggily sitting up when Sly walked in the room. "Go back to sleep, Em. I've got it," Sly said softly.
"You sure?" Emily said, blinking and trying to focus her vision in the dark room.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Lay down and get some rest," Sly said, trying to hold back the torrent of thoughts rushing through his mind.
Even half asleep, Emily could tell something was bothering Sly, but the baby came first. "We'll talk about it later, Sly," she said as she lay back down and drifted off to sleep again.
Sly shook his head. "Your mom knows me too well," he said to Jude. It took him a few moments longer with his bad hand, but he managed to scoop up his son and walk with him to the nursery.
Jude wailed loudly as Sly walked back and forth in the room. "I'm sorry we woke you up, Bud," Sly said, rubbing Jude's back. "It's my fault." He couldn't stop thinking about what he had said to Jenny, and he cursed himself. She was right. She was there for me through everything, Sly thought sadly. I can't believe I would say something so stupid.
He walked over to the window and looked out at the stars. He remembered a dream he used to have after his mother died. She had given him a telescope, and when he looked through it, he could see every star in the sky. I guess Jenny is right, Sly thought wistfully. I miss you, Mom. Wish you were here.
Sly started to softly sing to Jude, walking back and forth in front of the window.
I will walk alone by the black muddy river
And sing me a song of my own
I will walk alone by the black muddy river
And sing me a song of my own
The baby calmed down a bit and stopped crying. "Yeah, you like that one, don't you? Do you remember it from the elevator?" He pondered Jenny's words as he gently stroked his son's head. "Well, Jude, I hope you go easy on your old man and wait a while before you break my heart," he whispered. "We'll both be better off that way."
Song Credit: "Black Muddy River" Words by Robert Hunter; music by
Jerry Garcia. Sung by Bruce Hornsby on his album, "Here Come the Noisemakers."
Previous Chapter Next
Chapter