Here - Chapter 17
Tuesday, 28-Mar-00 02:21:43

165.76.24.125 writes:
Here - Chapter 17


"Here you go," AJ says, handing a stuffed manila envelope to Carly when she steps inside the door.

Surprised, she takes the envelope from him, "What's this?"

"Custody agreement," he says lightly, ushering her into the foyer.

She is stunned. Her hand shakes with she realizes the true weight of what she holds. She clears her throat, "Already?"

He nods, "Yeah. We've had something on the table for a while now, so it only took a few days to draw it up."

"Oh..." she replies softly, looking down at the plain brown rectangle. It seems to grow larger the longer she stares, so she stuffs it into her oversize bag. She hopes her voice does not crack when she manages coolly, "I'll take it to my attorney as soon as I can and we can be done with this."

He claps his hands in front of him, satisfied, a smile widening across his face. "You know, this is great," AJ says in amazement. "I never would have believed we could be civilized about all of this a few months ago."

She gives him a tremulous smile and a phony half-laugh, "Yeah..."

"I mean," AJ continues, not deterred by her lack of enthusiasm, "here we are...putting Michael's needs first. Working together to make sure he gets the best of both of us. I don't know what to say, Carly. I'm surprised and I'm pleased about this."

Carly looks at the father of her child, at his uncalculated smug smile, his unknowingly condescending manner. And, for the thousandth time, she wonders, Why the he!! did I sleep with him again??

Aloud, she utters, "I'm pleased too, AJ." She sighs and looks around. She points a finger toward the stairs, "Is he upstairs?"

He shakes his head and answers pleasantly, "No. Latecia just took him out to the garden. They're waiting for you."

She raises her brows, the phony smile still pasted on her face, and says, "Okay!" Then she follows AJ out to the garden.

As always, when she sets eyes on her son, her heart leaps. She can not believe that she actually gave birth to such a wonderful, intelligent, oh he!!, he's perfect!!! little boy.

He looks up from the flowers in his hand and runs to Carly, holding the ragtag bouquet out for his mother.

She takes them with a genuine smile, "Thank you, sweetie," and gives him a warm hug. Then she gives him a faux-stern look, "You haven't been picking your great-grandma's flowers have you?"

Michael laughs out loud and shakes his head.

"Did you need me to stay?" Latecia asks, her eyes wandering over Carly's shoulder to look at an impatient Reginald standing anything-but-nonchalantly in the library.

"No, we'll be fine," Carly replies, never taking her eyes off of her son.

Latecia nods quickly, then scoots through the French doors to the library.

"So," AJ puts his hands on his hips; he is still grinning, "what's on the agenda today?"

Carly turns away from AJ and rolls her eyes, causing Michael to squeal with laughter again. Then she says over her shoulder to AJ, "Nothing really. I think we'll just hang out on the grounds today." She looks back at Michael, "Does that sound like fun, Mr. Man??"

Michael laughs again and throws his arms around her neck.

Sensing the value of his presence is diminishing, AJ clears his throat, "Well, okay then...I'll talk to you later, Carly." He puts a hand on Michael's arm, "See you later!"

When AJ is finally gone, Carly lets out a long breath and puts Michael down. Immediately, he sprints off toward the lawn area of the property, where he loves to run the seemingly endless length of green.

"Wait for me!" she calls out after him, laughing.

As she secures the manila envelope deeper inside her bag, she wonders how she ever got so lucky. Despite all of the mistakes she has made with that little boy, despite all of the upheaval and turmoil she caused in his short life, Michael still loves her. He loves her wholly and carelessly and ceaselessly. Without remorse or excuse.

Then she realizes that Michael is only giving back what she gives to him.

As she jogs to catch up to her son, she wonders if that is really all there is to it. If love is truly as easy and as simple as giving and getting back.

She wonders briefly if she will ever know what it feels like to be in love, to love an adult male and have that man love her in return in the same way. But she does not spend too much time on those thoughts because, at the moment, she does not care. She is only concerned with what is happening right now. Right here.

*******

The meeting is finally over. The people with whom he met were hostile. Understandably shaken. They were associates, not underlings, so they did not feel the least bit threatened by him.

Instead, they were the ones doing the questioning: How has this FBI thing affected the business? Does Sonny even know? Has Benny looked at the numbers? How many 'customers' has the upstate New York network lost because of Sonny's inexplicable slip?

It did not go well.

He dismissed the blameless Benny with an angry nod and is now stewing over what the men said to him. He knows he just has to hang on and remain confident, in-control. He needs to make sure the numbers not only return to the level they were when he first returned, they have to surpass Jason's numbers before he will truly be safe in his position.

He must do all of that, as well as watch his back over the next few months, if he is going to survive - literally - the mistake he made with Hannah.

"May I join you?"

Sonny, in the middle of chewing a bite of freshly-baked Italian bread, looks up at the new arrival, nods, then waves Johnny away.

Bobbie sits down at the table, her attitude serious and unfriendly. She glances around the restaurant. It is a hushed, dark, formal atmosphere. The clientele is mostly older - no young lovers in this place.

Sonny motions to the waiter and looks at Bobbie, "You want anything? Wine? Food?"

She shakes her head.

The waiter arrives, his eyes furtive and anxious at serving a reputed crime boss. "Sir?"

"I'd like another glass of the burgundy," Sonny says flatly.

The waiter backs away with a nod of acknowledgement.

Sonny picks up his fork, stabs at his salad, then his eyes slide to Bobbie. He smiles in what he hopes is his most charming manner, "What can I do for you?" He already knows, of course.

Bobbie takes a deep breath, purses her lips, and blinks slowly before starting. Then she says earnestly, "I know this is none of my business -"

Sonny nods his head, tilting it a touch, as he interrupts, "Yeah, you're right."

"- but," Bobbie continues as if Sonny has not responded, "but Carly is my daughter and I'm concerned for her."

Sonny remains silent, but he feels some anger bubbling in his chest.

"I want Carly to get her life together, Sonny," Bobbie explains with a desperation borne of motherhood. "And I don't believe she can do that when she's, well, when she's..." Finally, she spits out, "when she's mixed up with you!"

Sonny waits for her to go on, but she does not. She is looking at him, imploring him with her eyes, waiting for him to react to her words.

The waiter returns with the stout bottle of burgundy and fills Sonny's glass. Then he disappears into the background of the restaurant again. Sonny lifts his glass to the light and studies the color and clarity of the heavy liquid. He replaces the glass on the table and meets Bobbie's eyes. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Bobbie," he says sincerely.

She looks sadly into his eyes for a moment, disappointed with his lack of response.

He shrugs in helplessness and utters, "I'm not sure what it is you want me to do."

She blinks, widens her eyes, and puts emphasis on every syllable, "Stop sleeping with my daughter!"

His facial expression does not change, but his eyes harden from compassion to contempt.

Bobbie sputters on, "She is in no position, emotionally or otherwise, to deal with someone like you right now! She has so many problems to worry about! Her son, how she is going to make her living for the rest of her life. She doesn't need you on top of all of that!"

He sniffs and clenches his jaw, looking away from her, "You're entitled to your opinion."

Frustrated, Bobbie stands up and tightens her jacket around her. Then she leans toward Sonny and hisses, "I love my daughter. And if you care anything about Carly, you'll leave her alone."

He puts his hand on the table, resigned, and sighs, "It's not really your choice to make, Bobbie."

His calm demeanor only serves to make Bobbie angrier. She leans in a little closer and whispers, "Don't you know that she is only with you because Jason isn't here?"

He slowly closes his eyes, then reopens them when he senses she has walked away. He lifts his glass to his lips, but puts it down again.

He does not believe what Bobbie said is true, but he can not deny that the same thought has run through his mind. Then he asks himself why he even cares about the reasons Carly may or may not have for sleeping with him. After all, she is only sleeping with him. Right?

He rubs his face with a hand and rests his elbows on the table with a sigh.

He has suddenly lost his appetite.

*****

"YESSS!!" Carly bursts through the penthouse door, waving a sheath of documents in the air.

It is two-thirty in the morning, but Sonny is awake. He has been expecting her arrival from Luke's.

He closes the door behind her, then reaches up and grabs the papers from her hand, "What's this?"

She spins to look at him with a silly, self-satisfied grin on her face, but does not answer.

He looks down at the bundle in his hand scans the top page quickly, "Ah...the custody agreement." He lifts his eyes to her, "It's finalized?"

She lets out a deep breath, "Finally!"

"That's great," he says flatly, handing the agreement back to her.

"Damn right it's great!" she counters excitedly. She watches Sonny as he walks listlessly past her to the bar and, suddenly, she finds herself slightly less elated. She expected more of a reaction from him. She grabs his arm, "What?"

He turns to her, his brows raised, "What?"

"What's your problem?" she asks in a challenging tone. Her grip softens slightly, but she does not remove her hand.

He frowns, "Me? I don't have problems, Carly. That's your department." Then he turns away from her and starts loading a glass with ice.

She scoffs at him, "Don't try that bull with me, Sonny. I know you have problems. Remember?"

He winces.

She sees the wince and knows she's hit the sore spot. She searches his surprisingly familiar profile and sees the lines of fatigue and worry. She gulps, "Is it, um, business?"

He sucks air in through his lips, looks at her hard, then warns quietly, "Don't, Carly." He knows that his mood is partly attributable to business. But Bobbie's earlier words weigh heavily on him also.

Carly widens her eyes and takes a step back, remembering suddenly, with the danger lurking in Sonny's eyes, who this man is. And what he does for a living. She takes a deep, thoughtful breath and walks over to the fireplace, ruffling the pages of the agreement between her fingers. Why am I here again?? she asks herself as she blows air through her lips.

After a moment, he relents and follows her to the hearth and stands in front of her, leaning a hand on the narrow mantle. He tilts his head, "So?"

"So...?" Carly echoes bitterly, feeling hurt and not knowing why.

He motions with his glass toward the papers, "You got everything you wanted?"

She snorts and smiles sadly, "Oh yeah...everything except my son..."

"Okay," he amends, "so you got everything you wanted for right now?"

She nods, her energy dissipated. She looks at him then, "You think you can get me a ride home?"

"You want to go home?" he asks, surprised at how let-down he feels at the suggestion.

She searches his face, "Well, I mean, if you don't want me here, I can just go home and get some sleep..." It is more of a question than a statement.

He does not know how to respond, Do I want her here?, so he does not.

She sighs and heads for the door, "Your driver can take me home? Or do I have to take the bus?"

He clears his throat, waving his hand toward the door, "I can give you a ride."

She looks at him, incredulous, "You?"

"Yeah," he says. Then he leans toward her and teases her with a smile, "I know how to drive."

Carly watches Sonny as he retrieves his jacket from the closet and his keys from the desk. Then he picks up the telephone and speaks briefly into the mouthpiece.

And she tries to hide the smirk on her lips.

She follows him past Francis to the elevator. She waits as he presses the down button, then peers around the corner at the bodyguard, "He's not coming with us?"

Sonny shakes his head, "Somebody's waiting for us in the garage."

The elevator arrive and the doors slide open. He ushers her inside, then steps in after her.

She folds her arms over her chest, "If you're going to drive, what about security?"

"It's taken care of, Carly. Don't worry. You'll get home safe and sound," he says with a hint of exasperation.

"Or you'll die trying, right?" she quips.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye, then watches the lights blink as they pass each floor, "I wouldn't go that far..."