Chapter Fifty-Five:
Sinking Fast

Hannah's Apartment

Once again, Hannah steps off the elevator to find Emily camped out on her doorstep. She can't hide the smile that spreads across her face, as she watches her niece sitting cross-legged, listening to her Walkman, hunched over a notebook she's making hurried notes in. She clears her throat, and Emily looks up, and pulls off her headphones, her face devoid of emotion.

Hannah: (fishing for her keys) I didn't expect to see you today. (Emily just looks at her. Hannah flushes slightly) Not that you aren't welcome.

Emily: (flatly) I'm running out of places to go.

Hannah: (frowning) Well... At the very least, I owe you some kind of shelter. (Emily bites her lip and looks away quickly. Hannah realizes that she's about to break down as she busies herself, picking up her belongings to clear the door way. Hannah makes sure not to look at her too closely. She doesn't want to scare her off. The last few times Emily's gotten emotional in front of her, that's been it, she's taken off. Emily stands up, stepping clear of the door and Hannah unlocks it quickly, leaving it open behind her for Emily, as she walks to the kitchen to dump the one bag of groceries she's carrying. Emily stands in the doorway uncomfortably a moment, before entering. She closes the door silently, her every movement very deliberate. She puts her book bag down, leaning it against the door jamb, and walks a few steps further into he apartment, crossing her arms across her stomach. Hannah catches sight of this particularly vulnerable stance, as she takes her groceries out of that bag. She picks up a carton of Hagen Daaz.) I do have ice cream, you know. (Emily looks up at her, then smiles ruefully)

Em: That obvious? (Hannah nods)

Hannah: I've seen that look before. That "I just got hit by a Mack Truck" look.

Em: (muttering) At least Mack trucks make some kind of sense.

Hannah: In what way?

Em: Well, you know what hit you, for starters. (she sighs and slides down onto the couch)

Hannah: Ok, so is that a no to ice cream? (Emily says nothing) Actually, it was gelato, anyway. I haven't had dinner.... You wouldn't want to go to Kelly's or something, would you?

Em: I've really had enough Spencer hospitality for today. (Hannah frowns) Lucky's aunt runs that place.

Hannah: Oh. (she sighs) The plot thickens. (She looks down at the staples she bought -- milk, bread, the gelato and a tomato.) Well, I have no food. We could order a pizza.

Em: Your phone is broken. (Hannah shakes her head, annoyed at herself)

Hannah: Right.

Em: You don't have to play hostess for me.

Hannah: Forget that, I'm hungry. (she opens her cupboard) Ok, I have cereal. (she makes a face) You know, without realizing it, I've turned into a musician.

Em: Why, did you used to cook a lot? (Hannah looks over at her)

Hannah: Actually, no. I used to.... Do a lot of waitressing, or work in people's houses.

Em: I didn't know that.

Hannah: Only work you can really get as an American Expatriate with questionable documents.

Em: Did you sing at all?

Hannah: In the shower. (she laughs slightly) A little more than that. But no, not professionally.

Em: Then why come work at Luke's? (Hannah's been dreading this question. She hums "Impossible Dream" as she gets down two bowls from the cupboard)

Hannah: It's where the day took me.

Em: Fate, right? Don't ask too many questions. (she sits up) You sound like Lucky.

Hannah: (under her breath) God forbid. (regular voice) Why?

Em: The questions thing. (Hannah holds up two boxes)

Hannah: Ok. Honey Nut Cheerios, or Life.

Em: Life.

Hannah: Good choice. I can never get through a bowl of Cheerios before they go spongy.

Em: (wrinkling her nose) I don't think I've had cereal for breakfast since I moved into the mansion.

Hannah: You miss it?

Em: Not at all. You can get really used to croissants and fresh fruit for breakfast every morning. (Hannah gives a low whistle, as she pours the cereal into the bowls)

Hannah: Man. I didn't eat like that when I lived in France! Granted, France is so expensive, you try to just live off the richness of the culture. Yes, I'm starving, but my soul is well fed. (she frowns) Have you been to France?

Em: No. I went to Italy for a couple of months once.

Hannah: Oh! What part?

Em: Tuscany. Rome.

Hannah: I lived in Milan for... I don't remember. Six months? Something like that. (She pours the milk, as she grabs two spoons out of drawer.) I was in Venice for a little while too. (she picks up the bowls and walks into the living room) Here you go. We don't stand on ceremony here. (Emily takes the bowl from her and stirs it listlessly. Hannah sits, legs crossed, in the arm chair.)

Em: I can't believe you haven't asked me anything about Lucky.

Hannah: Ummmm... I assumed you'd say something if you wanted to talk.

Em: I don't. But if I was at home, I'd be under intense scrutiny right now.

Hannah: Well, I'm not really in a position to do that.

Em: Well, thanks for noticing that. Lots of people don't make the connection.

Hannah: Can I ask one question? (Emily considers this, then nods slowly) Was there a specific reason you came by today?

Em: I don't know. I mean.... I don't want you to take this the wrong way, Ok? But .... I guess there is stuff I want to know. I'm not saying I'm thrilled with everything, but I did want to see you again.

Hannah: Well... that's a lot more than I can ask for.

Em: Lucky told me that the reason he decided I had to know about you was because you know stuff about my mother that I didn't get a chance to know, since I was just a kid when she died. She wrote me letters, and she treated me wonderfully (Emily's voice catches in her throat) I mean, she was like my -- (she stops dead, a painful lump in her throat. Hannah watches her, feeling tears come to her own eyes. Emily lets out a long, ragged breath) Mom treated me like I was an equal, I guess. I mean, she never really made me feel like I was too little to understand, or that I didn't know what was going on. She didn't always tell me flat out what was going to happen, but she seemed to understand that I knew she was going to .... Die. (she stares hard at the coffee table) I know you didn't like her.

Hannah: It's not that.

Em: Then what was it?

Hannah: Ok. (she puts down her cereal bowl) I knew this was coming. (she looks across at Emily) I told you why I took off, and I hope it made some kind of sense to you. I was ashamed, and I couldn't my family, or my friends anymore. (she looks at her niece intently until Em finally consents to meet her eyes) I know I don't know you that well, Emily... but I know you're stronger than I was. (Emily laughs slightly) You are. You probably still think that using drugs made you weak, but you have the pride and the self-respect to go on after it feels like everyone knows what a fake you are. I couldn't do that. (Emily looks away, turning her attention to her quickly soggifying cereal) Your mom was almost sixteen when I was born. She was older than I was when I became an aunt! I never lived with her long, not with her in the house. But I lived with her image my whole life. Your Grandmother, she didn't mean to have a kid that late. I was a complete and total disaster from the beginning. I mean, sure, they loved me. But Paige was a quiet, introspective child, and I was loud and troublesome. I can't really blame her. I mean, she wanted to be concentrating on bridge club and vacations and here she was with one daughter going off to college and the other going through toilet training. I don't think I'd envy her. But I was just a kid, you know? I had nothing to do with it. Anyway, all my life, I was the child who was not Paige. As far as I could tell, the only thing Paige ever did to disappoint them was dropping out of college to marry your father. I don't know how old I even was when that happened.... Really young, like six. And I just knew, she'd messed up. SHE'D done something bad for once. (She sighs) See, Mom married young, had Paige right away... and she wasn't happy. Maybe the marriage was all right when Paige was growing up, but by the time I came along, it was just sad. They hated each other. It was like growing up in a .... Well, it wasn't a war zone. No one ever said a word. It was so quiet. You wouldn't believe it. Just all these ice silences. And I'd look at pictures of the family before me and they were happy. And I'd hear every time I did ANYTHING about how Paige wasn't like that when she was a child. (she frowns) Paige never had a chance. I resented her from my first breath. (Emily sits in silence, digesting this. After a moment, Hannah speaks again, very quietly) The worst part was that I really liked her. She was funny and... I guess, looking back, she was just trying to give me advice. Maybe that was it all along. She'd grown up with those two maniacs. She must have just always known how to play the game better than I did. But I was so angry at her for everything -- including moving out and leaving me behind to be raised by these crazy people, that I'd never listen. PLUS, this just drove me crazy. She'd take me out, on these "sister outings", right? And she'd be one way the whole time we were out. She'd be fun, we'd have a great time. But when we got home, she'd change. Her voice would go up three octaves, and she's open her eyes really wide -- it wasn't the same person. So here I am, competing with this perfect sister -- who is just an ACT! On top of that, she had the audacity to have a kid. Not just any kid, either, but this adorable, tiny thing with big brown eyes, who never cried -- barely even spoke. Plays nicely by herself in the corner for hours. You spooked me out. So. I decided that I was going to do that one thing that she never could. Finish university, be a career woman. Because I was really good at school. I thought I could do it. (She looks up at the ceiling, attempting to keep the bitterness from her face) I was wrong.

Em: (quietly) That's about the most honest answer I've ever received in my life. (Hannah looks over at her)

Hannah: (ruefully) Well, it's been ten years. Maybe a little honesty is called for.

The Spencer House.

Nikolas and Lulu walk up the steps, returning from an unscheduled visit. Lulu is holding his hand, and carrying a plastic bag with a storybook in it. She looks contented, more so than her brother who seems distracted.

Lulu: When the snow is all gone, we can go back to the park, right?

Nik: We can go there now, if you want. But there isn't anything to do.

Lulu: That's Ok. I had fun at the restaurant. (she smiles at him) I'm glad you came today. Lucky's not coming this week.

Nik: Yeah, I know.

Lulu: You know?

Nik: He told me. He... He wants to, he just can't this week.

Lulu: Yeah, he said he was busy.

Nik: Lesley Lu.... (Nikolas kneels down in front of her, so that they are on eye level) Lucky not coming this week has nothing to do with you, Ok?

Lulu: (confused) I know. He said he had to do a lot of work for school, and some other stuff. But he's gong to come by next week and we'll take Foster to the park.

Nik: Good. (Nikolas looks up as a car comes up the driveway. He checks his watch, and realizes he let things get later than he meant them to. Luke gets out of the car. His eyes fall on Nikolas momentarily, but he quickly averts them to Lulu, smiling widely and throwing his arms open.)

Luke: Hey sunshine! Didn't expect to see me, did you? (Lulu grins at her father, and descends the steps, leaping into his waiting arms)

Lulu: Daddy! (Luke spins her around, much the way Lucky always does. Nikolas stands up.)

Luke: See we've got a visitor.

Lulu: Nikolas took me out to lunch, and then to the bookstore. (Luke nods, his eyes boring into Nikolas. Nikolas meets his gaze, coolly. He knows where this is going to go. The door behind him opens and a very nervous Laura appears)

Laura: You're back!

Luke: Yeah, all of us. (Laura shoots Luke a look, indicating that this is not a good time for him to get belligerent. Luke sets Lulu down)

Laura: (to Lulu) Did you have a good time?

Lulu: Yes. I got a new book for us to read next time. I'm going to save it until Nikolas comes back.

Nik: You don't have to do that.

Lulu: No! I want to. (Nikolas smiles down at her, wishing that Luke and Laura would go away. He never feels comfortable with Lulu while they're watching him. )

Nik: Ok. I'll see you Thursday.

Laura: Nikolas! (Nikolas turns to Laura, who seems to want to say something. She looks at Luke again, then back at him) Thank you for taking Lulu out. (Nikolas tenses, his mother once again censoring herself for Luke's benefit. Whenever he sees her do this, he feels like he's right back to the first few months he was here.)

Nik: (coldly) She doesn't have to thank me. I'm her family. (He turns from her to Lulu again) Take care, Lesley Lu. I'll be back in no time.

Lulu: Ok. (Laura puts a hand on Lulu's shoulder, and her daughter looks up at her, getting the message) I have to go in now. (she looks past Nikolas to Luke) Are you coming, Daddy? (Luke nods)

Luke: In a minute. I got some stuff to take care of out here. (Laura gives him another warning look, though it's not particularly demanding. Luke smiles back, as if everything is fine.)

Laura: Come on, Lulu. You can help me set the table. (Laura pulls Lulu into the house)

Lulu: Good bye!

Nik: Bye. (The door closes, a little harshly. Nikolas sighs and starts down the stairs to face Luke, who is looking him up and down)

Luke: Well, well. Not a scratch on ya. Must have been one hell of a sucker punch.

Nik: That's between me and Lucky. (Luke leans in, his voice deadly calm)

Luke: I don't know why you suddenly are going after Lucky again, but I --

Nik: Lucky can take care of himself, Luke.

Luke: Oh, he can. No one know that better than me. But for some reason, he keeps letting you off the hook. Lulu, I think. You know he's not coming to see her this week. Lu's pretty upset about that. And I'm holding you responsible. (Nikolas says nothing, looking off into the distance) You and your flying fists try to get in the way of my family being together again, and that's it. I don't care who fights me on it, Lulu is out of bounds for you.

Nik: And what she wants does matter.

Luke: She doesn't want you messing with her brother. (Nikolas sighs heavily)

Nik: Lucky does what he wants. We have nothing to do with it.

Jason's Penthouse.

Lucky stands at Jason's window, and stares at the bulletproof glass. He reaches out and taps it with his knuckle. He's never really understood this lifestyle. First of all, that feels like cheating to him. But, he supposes, there are probably people out there who risked getting shot at more often than his family did when they were on the run. And if there were, then Jason was definitely one of them. He'd only been shot once. Lucky had him tied there, and he wasn't even in this business..... Not yet, at least. And not permanently. Once again, he runs through the reactions he knows this will get. Emily will have a fit. His father will probably kill him. His mother... he has no idea what his mother will do. Cry, probably. Blame herself. All the stuff she always does that he can't listen to anymore. He leans his head against the window and tries to figure out why none of this matters to him. Nothing can shake him right now, he's completely dead. Probably a good quality when you're in the mob.

Not that he's in the mob.

Again, Lucky tries to make himself see that insanity in this. He's had this conversation with himself a million times, arguing over and over that there's nothing to be gained here. And he still wants to do it. Nothing to be gained but a distraction. Nothing but something that no one else is a part of. Nothing but ..... He closes his eyes. There's a part of him, he can barely acknowledge that wants to do it because it's the only way he has to rebel against his parents. His father's assertions that he's the son he always wanted, his mother's faith that he can handle anything. Everything in his life is tainted by that. It used to be a source of pride. Now it's something he can't bear to think about. So what is this? A short term assignment, long on risk and short on reason, that gets him nothing but a substantial payday, and proof that his parents have stopped paying attention.

The door opens and Lucky stands up straight, turning to look at the door. Jason walks in, eyes trained on him, in that blank stare that Lucky has come to understand means Jason's evaluating the situation. Lucky looks at him with equal disinterest. Jason smiles slightly.

Jason: Lucky.

Lucky: Hey. It's twenty-four hours.

Jason: Yeah, a little short of it, even.

Lucky: Didn't see the point in dragging this out.

Jason: Understandable.

Lucky: How many guarantees can you make me, Jason?

Jason: Without knowing what's going on? Not many.

Lucky: But it's one shot.

Jason: One way or another, yeah. And I'll keep you out of sight. I mean, you're strictly behind the scenes, just like always. (Lucky nods)

Lucky: (under his breath) Who was that masked man.

Jason: What?

Lucky: Nothing. (he looks up) Johnny and Renaldo.

Jason: Not a problem. (he shrugs) Besides Emily's my sister.

Lucky: True. (he feels a slight twinge, but quickly banishes it) Nothing's up there, right?

Jason: I'd tell you.

Lucky: (quietly) I don't know.....

Jason: About this?

Lucky: No. No, I know about this. I'm in.