Chapter 45

"Dad!" Julianna said when A.J. answered the phone the next morning. "Do you have your TV on?"

"No. Why? What’s going on?"

"Grandfather is talking about you to the press."

"What?!"

A.J. found his remote and clicked on the TV. He saw and heard his father defending his sobriety and his accomplishments. A.J. couldn’t believe how convincing Alan sounded.

"Isn’t it wonderful?" Julianna said.

"Yes," A.J. said, unable to remove his eyes from the screen. "It’s incredible. My mother is standing beside my father. Nikolas and Ellen are there, too."

"That reporter doesn’t have a chance of discrediting you," Julianna said, her voice animated. "Grandfather is making sure of that, isn’t he?"

"He certainly is."

"We’re going to the hospital in a little while. Want us to pick you up?"

"Sure. I’d like that."

"Mama can have visitors; your situation is being taken care of. Things are just falling into place, aren’t they?"

A.J. wasn’t so sure but, outwardly, he agreed with his daughter.

"I love you, Dad. We’ll see you soon."

"Love you, too, sweetheart."

As soon as A.J. ended the call, he turned up the volume on the TV to hear what his father had to say. He would have rather been told what was going on prior to witnessing it on television, but given the circumstances with Keesha, he understood why he hadn’t been informed.

He thought about heading downstairs to make his presence known when he heard Alan single out the reporter responsible for the lies about his sobriety: Courtney Matthews.

"Courtney!" A.J. yelled at the TV. "What the hell does she have to do with this?!"

A few minutes later, A.J.’s cell phone rang. He answered it and said a brusque "hello."

"A.J., it’s Vincent."

"Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so rude, but you would not believe what’s going on here."

"Actually, I would. I’m downstairs in the lobby. Courtney is with me. I think you need to see her, A.J."

"No way! Don’t bring her to my room. I *don’t* want to see her. We have nothing to say to each other!"

"I think you’re gonna want to hear what she has to say."

A.J. made a derisive sound as he ran his hand through his hair.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asked. "I *really* don’t want to see her."

"You’ll understand when she comes to your room. We’re on our way, okay?"

A.J. sighed. "No, it’s not okay, but bring her here. I’ll tell her what I think of her when I see her. I’m in Room 617."

*~*

"Hello," Julianna said when she answered her cell phone.

"Hey, Julianna. It’s Shelly."

"Hi, Shelly," Julianna said, her voice cool.

"I know that tone. You’re upset with me. I’m calling to apologize."

"*What* was going on yesterday?"

"I did something really stupid, okay? This hasn’t been the best summer for me. My parents split up, and I’m trying to deal. I miss having you here to talk to."

"Oh, wow. I’m sorry to hear that. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

"We haven’t talked. I know you have your own stuff going on."

"What happened?"

"My mom found out my dad’s been cheating on her, and she threw him out. But now all my mother does is cry. When she’s not doing that, she’s not here. I’m not sure where she goes. We’re barely talking."

"I’m so sorry, Shelly."

"Thanks. Frank’s been keeping me company. He told me if I drink a couple of beers, I’ll feel better. Yeah, I feel great until the next morning. Then, oh man. And the worst part is he gave me something stronger than beer last night. I can’t remember a lot of what happened, and that scares me."

"Shelly, why are you letting Frank influence you like that?"

"I don’t know. I’m bored and lonely. And scared and depressed. When are you coming home, Julianna? I need my best friend."

"Probably soon."

"Really?" Shelly’s voice brightened. "Because of school? Is your mom okay?"

"That’s why I called yesterday. I wanted to tell you that my mom had her liver transplant, and so far it’s successful."

"That’s great! Finally, some good news. I’m happy for your mom and you, Julianna. Really I am."

"Thanks. I’m sorry for you and your parents. Maybe they can work things out."

"Maybe. I don’t really know. I haven’t been in touch with my dad since he left. I don’t know where he is."

"Can you call him at his office?"

"I probably could, but I haven’t wanted to. I’m angry with him, too."

"I know that feeling," Julianna said, "but don’t let too much time go by without talking to him."

"You mean like fifteen years?"

Julianna cringed. "I deserve that, I guess."

"No, you don’t. Our situations are totally different. I’m sorry, Julianna. I’m just frustrated, and I have a killer headache. I’d better hang up before I say anything else stupid. I just really wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"It’s okay. I’ll call you later."

Thinking about how things were working out for her parents, Julianna couldn’t help but to be thankful.

*~*

When he heard the knock on his door, A.J. steeled himself, as best he could, for what awaited him on the other side. When he opened the door, he expected a brash, smug Courtney to come waltzing into his room. What he saw instead shocked him. A pale, frightened shell of a woman stood before him, holding a small, dark-haired boy tightly in her arms.

"Come in," he said, after they’d stared at each other for a long moment.

He still wasn’t sure what to make of the scene in front of him.

Vincent, a dark-haired, dark-eyed man of medium height with an athlete's build, followed Courtney and the young boy into the room.

"I’m sorry for the trouble I’m causing you," Courtney began. "I just...I didn’t know what else to do. I need your help, A.J."

"Passing yourself off as a reporter and making up lies about me are such great ways to get my help," he snapped.

"It finally got me to see you. I’ve been trying for a while. Your staff protects you something fierce."

A.J. narrowed his gaze. "Why have you been trying to see me? I can’t imagine what *I* could help you with."

"I need you to help me with my son."

"Why should I assist you with anything?"

"I’m desperate, A.J. I’ve made so many mistakes. I want a chance to start over with my son. I can’t live like this anymore. My son Jesse. He saw Jason kill a man, and he’s been traumatized ever since. He won’t talk. I need to get him help, A.J. I know this isn’t your problem, and you can throw me out if you want, but I’m willing to get down on my hands and knees and beg you for your help."

A.J. saw and heard Courtney’s anguish and instinctively chose to believe her. He focused on the child and realized Jesse hadn’t uttered a sound since they’d entered the room. A.J. brushed the boy’s coarse hair with his hand. His blue eyes stared at A.J. and after a few minutes, he held out his chubby arms to him.

"He wants you to hold him," Courtney said.

When Jesse tried to reach for A.J., he took him from Courtney and held him. Jesse wrapped his arms around A.J.’s neck and laid his head on his shoulder as if he’d known him all of his young life.

Even though he did not see a resemblance, A.J. had to ask the question. "Am I...am I holding my brother’s son?"

Courtney shook her head as she smiled at her child. "No. Jesse is not Jason’s son, and I have proof if you want to see it."

"I believe you. I don’t know why I should, but I do."

"Will you help us, A.J.? Please."

"Why did you come here, Courtney? Why are you involving me in your life? And why are you lying about being some reporter and making my family have to defend me? How did you even know I was here?"

"I’ll answer your questions, I will."

She took her son from A.J. and sat him on the divan and then took a seat next to him. A.J. and Vincent remained standing.

"Let’s start with how you came to be a reporter for the New York Times," A.J. said.

He turned to look at his right-hand man. "This should be good."

Courtney lowered her eyes. "A friend helped me with that idea," she admitted. She lifted her head to look at the man she had once been married to. "I needed to see you, A.J. Everything else I tried didn’t work. My friend, who does work for the newspaper, told me you would probably go public if a rumor began circulating about you. He planted it for me. I’m sorry. I know what I did was wrong, but I was desperate to see you. When my friend told me there was a press conference today, I saw my chance, and I came. I saw your parents, but they didn’t see me. I wore a disguise. My friend recognized Vincent from having toured your Center in Manhattan, and he introduced me to him. Once I’m gone, my friend will explain everything to your parents if you want him to."

"You are so proud of yourself that you got to see me, aren’t you?"

"Not proud, A.J.," she said, her voice breaking. "Relieved. Very relieved and grateful."

"Why? What is it you *think* I’m going to help you with? I don’t owe you anything, Courtney, and, years ago, you made it damn clear to me that you wanted nothing to do with me, so what kind of a sick game are you playing? And why are you using your son as a pawn?!"

"Jesse is not a pawn," she defended, lifting her son into her arms and holding him protectively. "He means the world to me, A.J. I will not let my son grow up the way Michael did. I think about Michael every day. I think about how my brother and his wife died. I think about the guilt I know Jason carries with him every day. Do you remember when we first got together how you kept that check for me and how you told me that all I had to do was take it if I ever needed it? That I was free to leave at any time? You even gave me a key to the drawer. Do you remember that, A.J.? Do you?!"

A.J. nodded. "I did that to assuage my guilt at the way I was using you at that time."

"I wish I had that check right now. I wish it could be that easy. I wish I could unlock a drawer, take the damn check, and forget I ever saw this place. I need to get help for my son, A.J. My mother is in Europe. She’s waiting for me. If I had that check, I would disappear. Forever."

A.J. folded his arms across his chest. "You want me to give you money. That’s what this is all about."

"Yes," Courtney said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I do need money."

"Why me? If you have a friend who’s on the staff of the New York Times and Jason is still in the picture and obviously, your son has a father, why the hell do you need money from me?!"

"My friend cannot help me with money," she said, shaking her head sadly. "I gave him some information one time, and he’s helped keep me safe and out of the line of fire, but that’s all. Jason and I are divorced, and my son’s father is dead."

"Is Jason alive?" A.J. asked, a sickening feeling beginning to take root in the pit of his stomach.

Courtney nodded. "I don't know why I care, but I do. He’s in trouble, A.J. He needs your help, too, but I need to get out of the country first."

"What happened to him?!" A.J. demanded.

Courtney’s blue eyes flashed with anger and then with regret. "He came back here to avenge Sonny’s and Carly’s deaths," she said, her voice low. "He thought my son was his child. I told him I had proof he wasn’t the father, but he didn’t believe me." She rocked Jesse as she relived the nightmare in her mind. "He went after my son’s father. He shot and killed him. I couldn’t stop him, A.J. I tried, but I couldn’t stop him from killing my son’s father!"

A.J. ran a frustrated hand over his mouth. "Were you with a rival? Is that who you were with, Courtney?!"

She nodded as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Jason didn’t want me anymore. He said when we went into hiding, I was on my own. He was going to meet up with Brenda somewhere. At least, that’s what he told me. I never left. Right after Sonny and Carly died, I found out I was pregnant. I told Jason not to worry about me. That I would take care of myself. I said I was severing all ties with him, and whatever happened, it wouldn’t be on him. I told him I wanted a divorce. He didn’t fight me. He took care of it very quickly and quietly. I’m sure he was glad to be rid of me."

"But he didn’t know you were pregnant," A.J. guessed.

Courtney shook her head.

"So he comes back and finds you with a child and thinks you’re lying to him. Plus, why would he allow a mob rival to raise his son when he wouldn’t let *me* near the boy I believed was my own son?!"

"Yes, okay!" Courtney yelled, and then immediately cuddled her son and rubbed his back to soothe him. "That’s what happened. I was with the man responsible for Sonny’s and Carly’s deaths, but I didn’t realize it until Jason accused him of having planted the bomb in their limo. When Jesse’s father taunted Jason with that fact and then boasted that his ex-wife was with him and that I had given him a son, Jason lost it. He killed Jesse’s father right in front of me and my child. I’ll never forget that night for as long as I live! It haunts me day and night, and my son is paying too high a price! I just want my freedom! Please, A.J.! Help me! Help Jesse!"

Courtney held her son closer as loud sobs escaped her throat. A.J. brought her a glass of water and some tissues and held Jesse in his arms while she pulled herself together.

"I know I have absolutely no right to ask this, but will you help us, A.J.?" she pleaded, looking older than her years when she stared up at him.

A.J. looked from Jesse to Courtney to Vincent and then up at the ceiling before he replied.

"Does Jason know you’re here?"

"Yes. I told him I would tell you that he needs help, too. I’ll call him," she said, pulling out her cell phone from her purse and punching in his cell phone number.

She took Jesse from A.J. and then handed the phone to him. A.J. didn’t know what to say when he heard his brother’s voice for the first time in eleven years.

"Hello?! Courtney, is that you?"

"No, Jason," A.J. said, amazed at how just hearing his brother’s voice could affect him. "It’s A.J. Courtney’s here with her son, and she wants me to help her get out of the country."

"Will you help her, A.J.? I messed up big time. Her son is paying for my stupidity. It shouldn’t be that way. She needs to get out of this mess. She has a son to raise."

"Yes, she does," A.J. agreed, thinking about how Keesha had raised their daughter all by herself for almost sixteen years and how grateful he was that she hadn’t faced the problems he knew Courtney was already dealing with. "I’ll help her," he continued, staring at his ex-wife to make sure she heard his words, "but I want it understood that I’m doing this for Jesse. And only Jesse."

"Thank you, A.J.," Jason said. "I mean that."

"You don’t sound too good," A.J. said, realizing that later, much later, he would reflect on the words Jason had said to him about how badly he had messed up. "Where are you? I’ll tell Dad. I’m sure he’ll come help you."

"I’m in an abandoned warehouse near the end of the pier. If Alan could come, I’d appreciate it."

Before A.J. could say anything else, he heard the phone drop to the floor. A few seconds later, the connection went dead.