Chapter Text
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Brook Lynn muttered as she scanned the empty foyer before scurrying across it. She knew that she didn’t have to sneak around the mansion–it was her family home after all–but she was in no mood to talk to anyone. After the emotional rollercoaster that was the Nurses Ball, she had spent the next few days locked in her room. Not speaking to anyone except Chase--who provided her with occasional updates on the search for Gio and Emma--and Yuri whenever he dropped off a food tray.
She knew it was selfish and immature, but after all of the hard conversations with her ma, Dante, Gio, her dad, and Olivia–she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. It took everything in her to make it upstairs, and once she did, she immediately collapsed into Chase’s arms. And that was where she stayed until she cried herself to sleep. She was still unsure if she had actually slept or if her body just shut down, because when she woke up and was informed that almost 18 hours had passed, she could hardly believe it. She still felt as exhausted and emotionally raw as she did when Gio stormed out the door with a mixed look of hurt and disgust that would forever be ingrained in her mind.
Part of her still couldn’t believe it. Gio was her son. He was the baby she carried and loved with her whole heart all those decades ago. The one that she knew deserved a better life than the one she could have provided. And yet, she still spent countless sleepless nights since that day in San Francisco wracked with guilt over whether she had done the right thing. But sitting there in the Metro Court ballroom watching Gio smash his violin to pieces proved that all those nights had been for nothing. Because in that moment, all of her worst fears had been realized. Her son’s world had come crashing down around him, and there was nothing she could do to help him. Because her world was also crashing around her. And while Lulu deserved her fair share of the blame, it was actually her mother who was truly responsible for all of it.
Her mother, of all people! The one who had been her ride or die until Chase entered the picture. The one who always preached about doing the right thing no matter what. The one who practiced directness, loyalty, and truth like they were cardinal virtues. To learn that she could do something so deceptive, something that felt like it came straight out of the Quartermaine playbook, and lie about it for decades, was excruciating. It was the biggest betrayal. And Brook Lynn wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to get over it.
Which was why she wasn’t the least bit surprised when she learned that Gio ran off. She would have done the same thing if she felt like she had no one to turn to. And while the thought of finally getting to know who her son was and him wanting nothing to do with her, so much so that he ran off to God knows where to prove his point, equally scared and hurt her. She couldn’t blame him. She also knew that he probably wouldn’t be gone for long. He would either come back to Port Charles on his own accord, or he would be dragged back by Mac and Anna. She knew Gio wasn’t in the right head space, but there was no way he could run off with the Police Commissioner's granddaughter and get away with it.
She couldn’t help but laugh as she prepared herself a cup of tea. Maybe her and Gio weren’t so different after all. Not only had they both been lied to for the past 22 years, but they also liked to run away from their problems whenever they had the chance. Brook Lynn had been doing it since she was 16. Whether it was coming to Port Charles and befriending Dillon, taking off for Bensonhurst after giving Bailey back to Maxie, or simply hiding in her room for the past few days; no matter how much she had grown and matured through the years, running away would always be her go to when things got hard. She just hoped that wouldn’t be the case for Gio. Hopefully, he would get it all out of his system with this little rendezvous and then be willing to speak with her again once they both had a chance to clear their heads.
But if you had kept him in the first place, you wouldn’t be worrying about whether he’ll ever give you the time of day again. She thought as she did her best to keep her tears at bay. There was no reason to get caught up in the what-ifs. She couldn’t go back and change things even though she desperately wanted to. She could only move forward. Take it one day at a time. And support Gio in any way she could until he was ready to sit down, listen to her side of the story, and maybe even be willing to work things out with her.
But she still couldn’t help it. In the small moments such as this, with the mansion uncharacteristically quiet, her mind would drift off, and she would find herself immersed in all the possibilities of what her life might have consisted of if she had made different choices all of those years ago.
* * * * *
“Okay, one more big push, Brook Lynn, and that should do it,” she heard the doctor say as she held onto her mother’s hand for dear life. She had no idea how long she had been in labor or how long she had been pushing. She just knew that it had been the longest and most agonizing time of her life. Yet part of her didn’t want it to be over. Because once it was, that was it. She would never see or talk about her baby again. She would never feel it move inside her, and she would never second-guess herself again. This was the right thing. Her baby deserved the best life, and that meant she couldn’t raise it. No matter how much the little part of her that wanted to complained.
“And it’s a–” she felt her mother’s hand leave hers as Lois had a whispered exchange with the doctor, “a healthy baby.”
She watched as a small bundle of blankets and towels was passed from the doctor to a few nurses as her mother continued to converse with the doctor. She knew that it was the worst thing she could do, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the small bundle as the nurses huddled around it and listed off a bunch of numbers and letters that sounded more like mumbo-jumbo than actual vitals.
And then her baby started crying, and it felt like her world stopped. All that mattered in that moment was making sure that he or she was okay. It didn’t matter that she had just given birth or that one of the nurses claimed that was a sign the baby had healthy lungs; she had to make it stop. She needed to comfort her baby. And she needed to do it now. She tried to get out of bed, but a strong pair of arms held her back. “No, honey, you need your rest right now. The nurses know what they’re doing, you can trust them, and the doctor still needs to examine you. Besides, you’re recovering from giving birth, you couldn’t walk over there even if you tried,” her mother informed her as she was gently pushed back onto the bed.
Once Lois confirmed that the birth was routine and that Brook Lynn would have no issues with her recovery, she turned her attention to the baby and, like before, had many hushed conversations with the nurses. Brook Lynn turned onto her side and did her best to blink away her tears. It should only be a few more minutes now. And then her baby would be off to its new life, and she would be back to hers. Back to Bensonhurst, where she went to school, wrote a few songs instead of studying, and tried to convince Grandma Gloria to let her go to the arcade on Saturdays instead of helping her prep for Sunday dinner. Back to a life of block parties, stickball, and dreaming of a life in the spotlight to escape the simple day-to-day mediocrity of living in the old neighborhood.
“Thank you again for everything,” she heard her mother say as the door creaked open.
This is it. She thought as she took a deep, calming breath. It was almost over, only a few more minutes now. Then, before she realized what she was doing, she found herself sitting up and saying, “Wait.”
“What is it, Brook Lynn?” her mother asked.
“I…I want to see it. Can I hold my baby?” she said as a river of tears ran down her face, “Please?”
Her mother gave a slight nod as she replied, “Sure, honey. Of course you can.”
Brook Lynn’s eyes were fixed on the nurse holding the small bundle of blankets as they made their way to her. She could barely register the instructions her mother was giving her as the nurse placed the bundle in her arms and saw her baby’s face for the first time. She let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding as she gazed down in amazement at it. Her baby was almost like a doll. All of their crying from earlier had died down, and they were now sleeping peacefully in her arms. Their eyelids fluttered slightly, allowing Brook Lynn to see their picture-perfect eyelashes that seemed to stretch out for miles. She couldn’t help but smile as she reached out gingerly with her free finger and traced down their small, plump, and cute-as-a-button nose before lightly rubbing their cheek. As she did, she couldn’t help but think how she had never experienced something so peaceful.
She started crying again, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was still overrun with emotions or because she knew she was about to make what many would assume was one of the worst decisions of her life. But she didn’t care. There was no going back now, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, her life had forever changed the moment her baby was placed in her arms. “Ma, I can’t do this.”
“But sweetie, you already did,” Lois replied as she sat next to Brook Lynn and brushed her fingers through her hair. “The hard part is already over. Your baby is here and he’s healthy and beautiful.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Brook Lynn replied as another smile spread across her face. She had a son, and he was the most perfect thing she had ever laid her eyes on. “Ma, I can’t give him up. I want to keep him. Please tell me I can keep him.”
“Brook Lynn,” Lois started as she forced her daughter to take her eyes off the baby and meet hers instead, “Are you sure this is what you really want?”
She nodded as she blinked a few more tears away and turned her attention back to her son, “Yeah. It is.”
* * * * *
Brook Lynn felt her heart jump into her throat as the familiar chime of the bell above her grandma’s kitchen door rang throughout the house. This was it. The moment she had been dreading since she stepped off the plane had finally arrived. And as much as she wanted to pack up her son and run for the hills, she knew she couldn’t. She had to do this and face whatever consequences came from it. It was one of her mother’s many stipulations that she had to agree to in order to keep her baby. And deep down, she knew it was the right thing to do.
Wait, the baby! She thought as she snapped her neck in the direction of the bassinet and let out a relieved sigh when she saw him sleeping peacefully. Thankfully, the noise hadn’t roused him. Between the plane ride and her pent-up anxiety about being a young mother on top of all the hard conversations she was about to have, it was hard getting him to sleep last night. Whenever she felt like he was finally dozing off and tried to place him in the crib, her son would wake back up, and she would have to start the whole nighttime routine over again. Motherhood truly wasn’t for the faint of heart, and even though she was only a few days into it, she was already afraid that she had gotten it wrong.
Which didn’t make what she was about to do any easier. If anything, it amplified her anxiety. And as much as she didn’t want to give in to any of the crazy conspiracy theories that every nona and zia on this block seemed to have, the past 24 hours were evidence enough that they were probably right about babies being able to pick up the energy around them. And if that theory was right, that only made what she was about to do all the more necessary. No matter how much it was terrifying her to do so.
“Here goes nothing,” she said after releasing a nervous sigh. She prepared herself to follow her grandma into the kitchen, where she could already hear her mother and Olivia chatting excitedly, when she felt her grandma’s strong hand on her shoulder.
“No, Brookie, you stay here with the baby. I’ll talk with your mother and Olivia, and then we’ll come get you when the time is right.”
She gulped and nodded in response as she watched Gloria exit the room. She loved her grandma with all her heart, but she was more afraid to tell her about the baby than Dante, Olivia, and the rest of the families combined. It was almost relieving to learn that her grandma already knew everything. That her mom had confided in her last fall when both of them were still trying to decide the best course of action. And while Brook Lynn was grateful to learn that Grandma Gloria supported her initial decision to give her son up for adoption, she couldn’t help but wonder if her mom or grandma would have ever told her the truth if she had actually gone through with it. Or would it have been a secret that they both took their graves? Because while the Cerullos valued truth and honesty, they were also extremely loyal and protective of their own. They were also extremely Catholic, but that was something Brook Lynn had spent the past nine months doing her best to forget. It was one thing to go to church every week and say grace before every meal; it was another thing entirely to learn about your teenage granddaughter getting pregnant out of wedlock without losing your head.
“Okay, I need to think about something else–anything else,” she whispered as she scanned the room looking for something to distract herself. She could cross the room and grab a book from the bookshelf, or she could look at all the framed pictures on the mantel and wonder when her son’s photo would be added to the collection, or she could flip aimlessly through the TV channels until she found a brain-numbing show to watch. She shook her head, knowing that all three options were no good. Watching TV, no matter how low the volume was, would probably wake her son and make her mom and grandma’s job in the kitchen that much harder. And she didn’t think she had enough strength to get out of the chair she was sitting in to get to the bookcase or mantel. But the longer she sat there and waited for her grandma to call for her, the more it felt like her legs had turned to Jello. And that she would be stuck in her grandfather’s favorite armchair for the rest of time.
She took a deep, calming breath as she picked up her grandma’s newest copy of Reader’s Digest and started flipping through it. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes while doing so. She might only be doing it to distract herself, but the irony wasn’t lost on her. She had only been a mother for a little under a week, and here she was already acting like every other mother on the block. It would probably only be a matter of time before she was on the planning committee for the Fourth of July block party.
She shuddered at the thought. She loved her son and didn’t regret backing out of the adoption for a second, but she still wanted more for her life than this little block in Bensonhurst could provide. And deciding to keep her son only made her double down on that desire. She knew it would be hard, but she wasn’t going to stop until she made it a reality.
“Hey, Brook Lynn, long time no see.” She almost jumped out of her chair when she heard his voice. Why was he here? She assumed she’d have more time to prepare herself before she saw him. That she would have her story set and could come across as calm, collected, and confident when she finally told him why she took off from camp without even bothering to say goodbye. But she was nowhere ready for what had to come next. “I knew you couldn’t stay away for too long, but should the fact that you lasted almost a year have me worried?”
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. If anything, Dante’s ego had become even more inflated in the time they had been apart. He was always a bit too cocky for his own good, but she always assumed it was a defense mechanism from growing up without a dad and dealing with all the different rumors the neighborhood kids would spread about Olivia. Especially since he had settled down a bit at camp, it was one of the reasons why their camp romance had started in the first place. Not only did Dante remind her of home, but it turned out that when he wasn’t putting on the act, he could actually be pretty sweet and caring. And just like her, he had big dreams with an unwavering drive to achieve them.
“Hey Dante,” she said as she turned toward him, “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to see me? It’s nice to see me?” He replied as Brook Lynn forced herself to get out of the chair and meet him in the small hallway that connected the living room to the kitchen, “You know, Brook Lynn, I was kind of hoping for a little bit more than that. Please don’t tell me you went off on tour and met someone new.”
She took a deep, calming breath as she gazed into his dark brown eyes and was relieved to see that he was still there. The boy from camp. The one who was kind and considerate. The one who spent countless nights stopping at nothing to make her laugh or tell her stories of home to help make her homesickness go away. The one who surprised her one night by kissing her out of the blue. The one who showed her night after night that he never really changed and was still that same kid who went out of his way to show her how to hit in stickball so she would no longer get picked last. The boy she hoped with all of her might would be the one she got when she finally revealed the truth to him.
“Funny you should say that,” she started as she took his hand and led him back into the living room, “Because that is exactly what happened…well, sorta.”
“Okay then, who was it?” Dante replied, tightening his grip on her hand, and Brook Lynn could have sworn that he was acting jealous.
“Are you sure you want to know?” she wondered as she tried to sneak a glance over her shoulder at the bassinet.
“Well, you can’t just tease me about it. So go on, tell me. And don’t leave anything out, I need to make sure this guy is good enough for you.”
“Good enough for me?” she repeated, gobsmacked at his reaction.
He nodded as he let go of her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, you heard me.”
“And what makes you think you’re in charge of determining what’s good enough for me?” she wondered, raising her eyebrows as she did.
He didn’t reply; instead, he gave her a knowing smirk which made her blush and she silently cursed him for still having that kind of hold over her. And Dante must have noticed because she watched his smirk turn into a giant grin as he said, “Just a hunch I have.”
She wanted to roll her eyes and tell him off, but a small whimper filled the room before she had the chance. “What was that?” Dante wondered.
“The baby,” she replied without thinking as she made a beeline to her son.
“Baby? What baby?” Dante asked as Brook Lynn picked up the infant and started to slightly bounce with him.
“My baby,” she said as she watched her son debate whether it was time for him to wake up. “This is the someone new I met on tour.”
She quickly glanced at Dante to see how he was processing everything, and all she saw was confusion. “Brook Lynn, since when do you have a baby?”
“Since a few days ago,” she replied, looking down at her son once again and realizing that he had fallen back to sleep, “Actually, since camp, if you want to get technical.”
She watched the metaphorical gears in Dante’s head start to turn, and his face got as pale as a ghost, “So that’s why you left early. And why I haven’t seen you since. Because you were having a baby…that baby…my…baby.”
“Please don’t be mad,” she said as she placed their son in the bassinet and then took a few steps toward him.
“Don’t you think I have a right to be? You leave camp without so much as a goodbye and then show up nine months later with a baby that I knew nothing about!”
She gave him a little nod and blinked away a few tears before she responded, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked, but can you please keep your voice down? Otherwise, you’ll wake up Gio.”
“Gio?”
She gave him a small smile as she turned to look at their son, “Yeah. I named him Giovanni. After my great-grandfather. Ma told me that’s what she was thinking of naming me if I was a boy. I've been thinking about calling him Gio for short.”
“It’s a boy?” Dante asked, his voice sounding softer, and closer, than before.
She nodded again, not bothering to turn and face him. “Yeah, we have a son.”
“Can I…can I see him?” Dante wondered as he came to stand next to her.
“Of course,” she whispered as she faced him again and saw that he had tears in his eyes. “But be forewarned, you’re going to fall in love with him once you do. He has a perfect track record so far.”
Dante smirked as he wrapped his arm around Brook Lynn, allowing his hand to rest on her shoulder, as they walked closer to the bassinet, “Sounds like he’s a lot like his dad already.”
“His dad?” Brook Lynn wondered as she looked up at Dante, “Does that mean what I think it means?”
Dante didn’t answer at first. Brook Lynn watched as he glanced down at their son, and a small smile spread across his lips. She tried not to get her hopes up too much, but as Gio let out a few more whimpers, she felt Dante’s grip on her shoulder tighten slightly. Not in a jealous way like earlier, but in a kinder and more supportive way. In an almost more romantic way. “Well, he’s my son, right?”
“Of course he is.”
Dante’s smug grin from earlier returned as he explained, “And everyone seems to be falling in love with him at first sight, correct?”
She nodded in response and did her best not to roll her eyes as Dante continued, “Which means little Gio here is just a chip off the old chopping block and I, for one, couldn’t be more proud.”
“Oh barf,” she replied as she shook her head in disbelief, “Maybe it was a mistake telling you the truth. I’m afraid this is going to go to your head more than every girl in the neighborhood seeming to have a crush on you.”
“Well, can you blame them?” Dante wondered as he gave her a little push with his hip, “Besides, there’s only one girl on this block that I care about whether she likes me or not.”
“I want you to know that if you’re going to say that girl is me, that is cheesy, embarrassing, and will end the way you’re hoping it will.”
“But it's the truth.”
She rolled her eyes and then got annoyed when it appeared that was the reaction Dante had been hoping for after all. “You’re really not mad?”
“I think I’m more shocked than mad.”
“I don’t blame you there. I still can’t believe it either. And I completely understand if you’re not ready for this. I know it will be hard, but I can raise Gio by myself.”
Dante shook his head and turned toward her so he could look her in the eyes as he said, “You’re right, I’m not ready for this, but that’s our kid right there, and I’m not going to let you do this alone.”
“And boy am I glad to hear that,” she heard her Grandma Gloria say. Brook Lynn and Dante felt like they had been caught red-handed, just like when they were caught by Mrs. Monetti, except this time they had been up to more than some simple teenage hijinks. She felt Dante quickly let go of her shoulder before they both turned to face her grandma and found both of their mothers standing next to her. “Dante, did I hear you correctly? You’re planning to step up and help Brookie raise that baby?”
She felt Dante stiffen beside her as three sets of eyes glared at them. Dante gave Gloria a nod and placed both of his hands behind his back as he answered, “Yes, Mrs. Cerullo, that is what I plan to do. I know what it's like to grow up without a dad, and I don’t intend for my son to do the same.”
Gloria nodded while Olivia appeared guilty next to her. “Good because Brook Lynn needs all the help she can get.”
“Grandma!”
“Don’t Grandma me. It’s the truth and we both know it,” Gloria started as she made her way over to them and placed one of her hands on each of their cheeks. “Now, you two need to make sure you do right by this baby, am I making myself clear?”
Both she and Dante nodded. “Of course, Grandma, we will do everything we can to make sure Gio has the best life.”
“Yes, Mrs. Cerullo, loud and clear.”
“Perfect,” Gloria said as she gave each of them a small pat on the cheek before going to join their mothers on the opposite side of the room, “because it has been decided that the two of you will be getting married next week.”
“What?” both she and Dante asked in shock.
“And everything’s already been taken care of. All the two of you need to do is apply for the license with your mother at city hall tomorrow. Then once the two of you are married, you will live here until Brookie finishes school and the two of you get on your feet,” She smiled kindly at each of them as she said the next part, “You are going to make such a lovely family.”
Before either of them had a chance to reply, Gloria and their mothers returned to the kitchen, leaving them standing there slack-jawed and taken aback.
* * * * *
“Are you sure you don’t want to back out?” Brook Lynn wondered as she handed their sleeping son to Dante, “Now’s your last chance.”
“I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to,” he replied as he repositioned the one-year-old until it was a little easier to carry him.
“You know, I wouldn’t blame you at all if you wanted to sit this out. From what I’ve heard, the Quartermaines can be quite the handful, and that’s on a regular day. I can only imagine–”
“All the more reason for you not to have to face that firing squad alone,” Dante interrupted as he used his free hand to gently squeeze his wife’s shoulder, “Besides, we’ve always dealt with trouble together; there’s no reason for that to start changing now.”
She couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she replied, “It’s a good thing you said that while we’re still outside. I can only imagine how the Quartermaines would have reacted if they heard you call them trouble.”
He shrugged and felt Gio’s little head bobble a bit as he did, “I haven’t heard much about them besides a few stories here and there, and what can I say? Trouble sounds like the right word.”
Brook Lynn took a deep, calming breath before replying, “I guess you’re right. Now, Ma said that the family has been spending most of their time in the den lately and that the easiest way to get there is to enter through the rose garden, which I believe is this way.”
“Wait, why don’t we just use the front door like everybody else?”
“Because we’re not like everybody else. Plus, look at this place! I highly doubt we could find the den even if we did. And this is what Ma told us to do, so we’re going to do it.”
“No use arguing with you there,” Dante started as Brook Lynn blindly led them around the house until they found a walkway and the faint scent of roses. “So how old was she?”
“How old was who?”
“Your grandma. Wait, no, I mean your great-grandma. How old was she?”
“I’m not sure. I only visited a few times when I was younger, and she seemed pretty old then. So, however old one needs to be to die in their sleep, I guess.” Brook Lynn replied as they continued down the path and started to hear a mixture of screaming voices.
“Wow, your mom and grandma weren’t kidding when they said arguing and backstabbing were second nature to the Quartermaines. Can you believe this? On today of all days?”
Brook Lynn shushed him as she started to approach the house and did her best to listen in. She had heard stories about some of the great Quartermaine brawls that her mother had witnessed, but she never truly believed them. She thought her mom was hyperbolizing and putting on a show for members of the neighborhood, especially since nothing big ever seemed to happen when she visited as a child. They always seemed like boring old people to her. Her dad and great-grandfather would always talk business. Her great-uncle Alan and his wife Monica would either be at the hospital or talking about something that was currently happening there. And her great-grandmother was always there to distract her from all of it. Asking her questions about what living in Bensonhurst was like, or showing her the newest needlepoint creation she had made, and promising to teach her one day. Brook Lynn couldn’t help but wonder if her great-grandmother was the glue that held them together. If she was the voice of reason who always waved a white flag and asked for a compromise before disagreements got too out of control. And if that was the case, what was going to happen to them all now that she was gone?
“Well, loyalty and support go hand in hand with respect,” The sound of her mother’s voice piqued her interest and put all of her wondering thoughts to rest.
“Lois, Lois,” her father added.
“What have you ever done to deserve one iota–”
“OH GOODNESS GRACIOUS. THE REFUGEE FROM THE TRAILER PARK! WHO WAS AN EMBARRASSMENT TO MY MOTHER!” a third voice that Brook Lynn couldn’t place added, causing her blood to boil. Her hands clenched into fists, and she was ready to storm through the patio doors and give whoever it was a piece of her mind when she felt Dante reach out to stop her.
“Hey, hey. Maybe it’s best if we leave and just meet your mom at the church.”
“And blindside them about Gio there, I don’t think so. If they’re behaving like this in private before a funeral, for crying out loud, I can only imagine how they’d receive the news in a public setting. I couldn't care less what this family thinks of me, but I don’t want our son getting splashed over every newspaper known to man and being called the new Quartermaine heir.”
Before Dante had the chance to respond, she heard the mysterious voice again: “AND YOU KNOW WHAT, NOTHING HURT MY MOTHER MORE THAN WHEN YOU TOOK NED’S DAUGHTER AWAY AND RAISED HER AS FAR AWAY FROM THIS FAMILY AS YOU COULD. AND NOW YOU STAND HERE AND HAVE THE NERVE TO LECTURE ME ABOUT LOYALTY WHEN YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE THE COMMON COURTESY TO LET YOUR DAUGHTER ATTEND HER OWN GREAT GRANDMOTHER’S FUNERAL!”
“Mother, why are you–”
“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Brook Lynn screamed as she barged into the room of screaming relatives, “YOU DO NOT TALK TO MY MOTHER THAT WAY!”
Immediately, everyone in the room turned to look in her direction with confused expressions on their faces. Brook Lynn gulped as she did her best to keep her composure. This wasn’t the entrance she wanted to make, but there was no going back now.
“Oh, Brookie,” her mother said, placing her hand over her heart and giving her a small look of gratitude.
“Brook Lynn?” her father said in a mixture of confusion and amazement.
“The one and only,” she replied as she took a deep breath and then glanced back to see if Dante had followed her inside.
“Wait, that’s Brook Lynn?” one of her many unnamed relatives asked, “As in Ned’s daughter? MY NIECE?”
“Yes, Dillon, that’s her,” Lois started, but was cut off immediately but whoever the screaming voice from earlier belonged to.
“At long last, my prodigal granddaughter returns. Too bad it took MY MOTHER’S DEATH to make it happen.”
“And I’m truly sorry about that, Grandma Tracy,” Brook Lynn replied before her mother, father, or any of the other countless relatives in the room tried to speak for her.
“Uh, you can call me Tracy,” her grandmother replied as Brook Lynn felt the comforting presence of her husband next to her. “What’s that?”
Brook Lynn crinkled her eyebrows in confusion as Lois started, “You know what, now probably isn’t the best time for this. I’m sure the service is going to start soon. We should probably all be making our way to the church now. Why don’t you all start off, and Brookie, Ned, and I will meet you there.”
“I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me why there’s a Backstreet Boys wannabe holding a toddler in my house!” Tracy started.
“Your house?” Almost every other person in the room replied in unison, causing her grandmother to roll her eyes.
“This is Dante, he’s my husband,” she said the last part while looking at her shoes.
“Your what?” her father asked in disbelief.
“Don’t worry about that, Ned, that’s nothing a little annulment won’t fix,” Tracy said before she was immediately cut off by someone standing by the armchair closest to the patio doors.
“You would know.”
“Can it, Alan! But that still doesn’t explain that,” her grandmother continued while pointing straight at her son.
“That would be my son and your great-grandson,” Brook Lynn sniped while crossing her arms over her chest and stepping in front of Dante to shield her son from any further scrutiny.
“YOUR WHAT?” Both her father and grandmother yelled in unison while the man she assumed was her uncle Alan broke out into a fit of laughter.
A blonde woman standing next to the laughing man glanced around the room briefly while rubbing the laughing man’s back, “And as much as I’m sure we’d all love to stay here and watch Tracy’s head explode, Lois is right. We need to start making our way to the church. Ned, why don’t you stay back for a minute? We’ll do our best to delay the service until you get there.”
“Thank you, Monica,” her father replied as the various family members started to file out of the room, some begrudgingly, until only she, Dante, and her parents remained. Her father turned his attention back to her, and she could see the hurt, confusion, and concern pooling together in his eyes. Here we go. She thought as she took another deep breath and prepared herself to tell the same story she had told at least a thousand times over the past year. And even though she had nearly perfected it at this point, that didn’t make telling it any easier.
Once she had explained everything–the camp hookup, the almost adoption, the rushed wedding–and her father didn’t seem to be too angry, at least not angry enough to punch or threaten to sue Dante, it was time for the funeral. Which was surprisingly lovely. All of the Quartermaines seemed to put whatever had caused the big fight at the house behind them and were on their best behavior. Brook Lynn was even able to sing one of her great-grandmother’s favorite songs during the service. And besides an awkward encounter between Dante and her uncle Sonny afterwards, they had all managed to come out of it pretty much unscathed.
And even though she hadn’t been around this side of her family for very long, Brook Lynn knew most of that was because she successfully managed to avoid both Tracy and her great-grandfather Edward. Even in the days following the funeral, while Brook Lynn, Dante, and Lois were allowed to stay at the house so Ned could get to know his grandson and Brook Lynn could do the same with the rest of her family, both of them remained scarce. Apparently, they had been in the middle of a big fight over the family company, and according to her great-uncle Alan, it could only be paused for so long before one or both of them imploded. And while that was a simple fact that everyone in the house accepted without question, Brook Lynn still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. How could a family treat each other so harshly? Especially after losing someone as kindhearted as her great-grandmother?
“Ma..ma…da…da. ma…ma…da…da,” she heard Gio babble, stirring her from her thoughts as she quickly turned her attention back to her son. They were currently sitting on the patio outside the den, trying to catch some fresh air before embarking on the long ride back to Bensonhurst that afternoon.
“What is it, Mimmo?” she wondered as she gazed lovingly down at him before following his little finger in the direction of one of her great-grandmother’s yellow roses. “Oh, do you see the pretty flower? Did you know that your great-great-grandmother probably planted that? She loved roses…and she probably would have loved you.”
She leaned down and held her son close to her as she did her best to blink away her tears. Besides the initial shock when her mother told her about Lila’s passing, she didn’t really allow herself to cry about it. She had barely known her and had only met her a handful of times. But she had heard countless stories about her from her mom and knew how much Grandma Gloria respected her. And the longer she stayed in Port Charles, the more she wished that she had the chance to spend more time with her. So she, too, could have gotten to know the Lila that everyone else in the house did. The one that they cherished and were missing so much. “MA…MA…DA…DA!”
“Oh, do you want to see it better?” She asked her son as she leaned closer to it and tried to position Gio’s nose as close to it as she could, “Just be careful, sweetie, and try not to—”
Gio wailed in agony before she had the chance to finish. “Oh, Mimmo, I’m so sorry! Did you grab one of the thorns? It’s okay, Mama will make it all better.” She quickly inspected his little finger and was relieved to see no blood, but that didn’t stop her son from crying out bloody murder. She did her best to shush him and started pacing back and forth, doing the mama bounce as all the ladies in Bensonhurst called it. When that didn’t seem to work, she let out an exasperated sigh before making her way inside. Maybe she could distract him with something in there.
She had almost made it to the couch when an unexpected family member made his presence known: “You know I once told your great-grandmother that no good would come from planting those roses so close to the fence. It’s just too tempting having them that close.”
“Great-Grandfather, you scared me,” she replied before sitting on the couch and turning Gio so he could face Edward as well.
“My apologies, dear, that wasn’t my intention. Now, how is the little one?”
She focused her attention on Gio’s little finger and kissed it. “I think he’s just a little spooked.”
“Because he probably wasn’t expecting something so beautiful to also be so prickly. Maybe that’s why Lila liked them so much, perhaps they reminded her of me.”
“I’m so sorry, Great Grandfather, I wasn’t thinking. If Gio damaged the flowers in any way, I will do my best to rectify it. No matter what it takes.”
“Oh, honey, please don’t worry about that. Lila planted those flowers so others could appreciate them, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s exactly what the two of you did.” Edward replied as he moved one of the throw pillows so he could join them on the couch.
“Oh wow,” Brook Lynn started.
“What is it?”
She wiped a few tears away before reaching for the pillow, “Great-Grandmother made this, didn’t she? Back when I used to visit, she…um, she told me she’d teach me how to do needlepoint. I wish we’d done that.”
“So do I. You know, she always loved it when you came to visit.”
She nodded slightly and closed her eyes, doing her best to collect herself. She swore that she had cried more in the last few days than she had during the past 17 years combined. “I wish I would have visited more,” she said barely just above a whisper.
“Me too,” her great-grandfather replied, “Brook Lynn, I hope you know that you’ll always be welcome here. This is as much your home as its Emily’s and Dillon’s. And if you ever need anything, please don’t be afraid to ask. We can give you anything you or your family could possibly need.”
“Thank you, Great-Grandfather, I will keep that in mind,” she said as she hugged her son from behind and self-consciously pulled him closer to her. After the initial shock of learning that she was married with a baby, most, if not all, of the family was very supportive and accepting. There were no hushed conversations that died down every time she entered the room, or judgmental glares filled with contempt when she came down each morning for breakfast. In some ways, the Quartermaines had reacted to the news and treated her better than many of the Cerullos and Falconeris did. It made her question whether the notion she always had about loving the Quartermaines but not being able to trust them was truly accurate.
“Brookie? Where are you?” she heard her mother calling, “We need to start getting ready to leave, sweetie.”
She let out a little laugh as she got up and placed Gio on her hip, “I guess that’s my cue to go.”
Her great-grandfather gave her a small smile and gave Gio a little wave before reaching for the pillow from earlier, “Brook Lynn, wait a minute, this was one of Lila’s favorites. I think she’d want you to have it. I know I do.”
She let out a surprised gasp as she reached for the pillow, “I couldn’t possibly.”
“No, I insist. In fact, I’m not letting you leave unless you take it.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep it forever,” she replied before taking the pillow and mirroring her great-grandfather’s smile from earlier. As she turned to leave, she made a promise to herself that this would not be the last time she ever stepped foot in that house. That she would make more of an effort to get to know this side of her family, and that her son would have more of a relationship with them than she ever did. Because, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing wrong with more people loving and caring for Gio. In Bensonhurst, people loved telling her about how it takes a village to raise a child, and she saw no issue if her son’s village consisted of a few wealthy and chaotic people from Port Charles.
* * * * *
Well, I’ve been ‘fraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m gettin’ older, too
As the simple, yet heartbreaking, guitar solo started playing through the vintage record player, Brook Lynn couldn’t help but close her eyes and sway along to it. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a night to herself. One where she could just relax, listen to some of her favorite records, and not worry about a single thing. It had truly been too long. Between running Gio from practice to practice, working any shift she could at the local thrift store, and doing her best to keep up with all the housework, it felt like there was never enough time to get it all done. It was even getting to the point where having a free afternoon to visit her Auntie Chia at the nursing room and sing to the patients there was becoming her idea of a good time.
“What has become of my life?” she wondered as she took a sip of wine and listened to Stevie Nicks’s hauntingly introspective vocals. How was it possible that a song released decades ago could describe her life so perfectly in that moment?
“Brook Lynn? You here?” she heard Dante call from the entryway.
“In the kitchen,” she yelled back as she turned the record player down and then took a seat at the table by the small window that did its best to light the entire kitchen every day in the warm afternoon sun. But it wasn’t like there was much to light anyway. The house wasn’t anything special, and it felt like it was barely bigger than a shoebox, but it was home. It was the first, and probably only, house she would ever own, and when it came on the market, it was at a price so low that she would have been a fool to pass it up. Not only that, but it allowed her to have a bit of freedom and allowed her to finally get out from under her Grandma Gloria’s thumb after five long years of quiet judgment and condemnation. Years of stern looks and head shakes every time Gio cried for too long or got into somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. Years of Brook Lynn questioning every parenting decision she had ever made and wondering if Grandma Gloria was secretly mad at her for reneging on the adoption. But all the tough love in the world would never be able to make her regret her decision to keep her son. Even on nights like tonight, when she couldn’t help but wonder what life might look like if things had panned out differently.
“Wow, I can’t believe that thing hasn’t warped yet,” Dante said, making his presence known to her as he glanced at the spinning record. “You play it constantly, and it was already pretty ancient when you found it.”
“Excuse me! I take very good care of my records, thank you very much! And none of them will be warping anytime soon if I have anything to say about it. If you want to help yourself to a drink, you know where everything is.”
“Oh, so it’s going to be one of those conversations,” Dante started as he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, surprising both of them as he did.
“Or maybe I don’t want to be drinking alone.”
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” he muttered, clearly aware that she heard every word and could pick up on the distaste in his tone.
She did her best to brush it off as she motioned to the seat across from her, “Please have a seat.”
They both let out an annoyed sigh as he complied and couldn’t help but notice the tension continued to grow between them. “So are you going to tell me why you asked me over, or are you going to make me guess?”
“I figured it was about time we talked, didn't you?”
He absentmindedly rubbed his hand over his chin before replying, “Yeah, we probably should, but where’s Gio? He probably shouldn’t be here for this.”
“He’s not. He’s at Olivia’s for the night.”
He nodded, “That’s good. She’ll be happy to spend some quality time with him.”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” she started, letting out a little smile as she did, “But I was pretty surprised that she was willing to give me the time of day, given everything that’s happening with us.”
Dante took a swig of his beer before he stared at her stone-faced, “That’s because she doesn’t know.”
She couldn’t help but be taken aback, “But Dante, we’ve been separated for weeks. And if you haven’t been staying with her, where have you been all this time?”
“I’ve been staying in the apartment above the shop,” he started as he took another swig, “Uncle Vinnie just thinks I’ve been putting in a lot of overtime hours and knows better than to say anything about it in front of Ma.”
“Overtime?” Brook Lynn asked dumbfounded, “He seriously thinks you’re working overtime at a shop that gets maybe one major job a week and where everyone who works there spends most of their bullshitting anyway.”
Dante gave her a curt nod, almost as if he was asking what’s your point? “All that matters is that he hasn’t asked me why I’m staying there and he hasn’t mentioned it to anyone else.”
“Okay, good,” she said, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Especially since I figured this was going to be a short-term thing. A night or two so you could have the house to yourself, not six weeks and counting.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Are you? Because it seems like I’m the only one who’s trying here.”
“Trying? What do you mean by that?”
“No, you don’t get to act dumbfounded when you’re the one who kicked me out, haven’t spoken a word to me in the past six weeks unless it was about Gio, and still haven’t explained why.”
She put her hands up in self-defense before taking a drink of her wine, more out of annoyance than anything else. “You’re right. You’re right, it probably looks like I’ve acted rashly. Which is why I asked you to come over tonight. I promise to answer any questions you might have, and then we can make a plan for what comes next.”
“What comes next?” Dante wondered as he leaned across the table toward her, “What comes next? I’m your husband, Brook Lynn. We took vows, remember? For better or for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. It’s all spelled out right there.”
“But what if I don’t want it to be?”
“What?” Dante asked, clearly flabbergasted, as he sat back in his chair, “You can’t mean that.”
“And what if I do? What if during these past six weeks, I’ve finally felt like I was thinking for myself again? That I was doing what I wanted instead of whatever would most make Ma, or Olivia, or Grandma Gloria the most proud of me. What if it felt like I finally could breathe for the first time in a very long time?”
“Brook Lynn, what are you saying?” Dante wondered, the harshness in his voice disappearing and being replaced with a softer and kinder tone, one that was very similar to the one that belonged to the boy from camp all those years ago.
She shook her head slightly, doing her best to stop the memories from flooding back and making her lose all the resolve she had built up precisely for this moment. She took a deep breath as she prepared herself to finally reveal the harsh truth that she had been trying to avoid but simply no longer could: “I’m saying that I’m not happy, Dante, and I don’t think you are either.”
She watched as the confusion crossed his face and he shook his head in disbelief. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Where is this even coming from?”
She reached across the small table for his hand before she replied, “Come on, Dante, we both know it’s true. I mean, come on, is this what you imagined your life would be? Working with your Uncle Vinnie at his shop and having every weekend filled with Little League games and church potlucks? Or living in this little shoebox of a house and still being able to barely make ends meet?”
“But we make it work as best we can. We’ve always had.”
She nodded as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, “You’re right, we do, but is that enough for you? Is that enough for Gio? Having two parents who are just going through the motions and putting on a show for everyone else?”
“I’m not–”
“I know,” she interrupted, “I didn’t think I was either, but then I realized that wasn’t the case.”
“And how do you suddenly realize that? How do you go from one day where everything is fine to this? Us sitting here and acting like we’re practically strangers?”
She avoided his gaze and felt a few tears starting to pool in her eyes as she whispered, “You don’t want to know.”
He shook his head as he slammed his hands down on the table, “Of course I do! Especially since whatever it was is what caused all of this. So what was it? Did you meet someone else? Or let me guess, some big producer saw you singing at Open Mic Night at the arcade and told you that they can make you a star? Or did one of your Quartermaine relatives try to convince you about how much better your life would be if you went to live with them in that giant house and play one big happy and dysfunctional family?”
She shook her head as she allowed the tears to fall, “No, it was none of that.”
“Then what was it? Because when I left for work six weeks ago, the Brook Lynn who said goodbye to me was not the same Brook Lynn who barely greeted me when I returned and then kicked me out as soon as our son was asleep.”
“You’re not going to let up on this, are you?” she asked him as she crossed her arms over her chest, more as a protective measure than anything else. Dante shook his head, and she noticed the fire in his eyes from earlier had returned, so she finally relented. “I had a pregnancy scare. There. You happy?”
“What? You did all of this because you thought we might be having another baby?”
She stood up and gathered her strength as she gave him a nod in confirmation, “And guess what? When that test was negative, I was relieved. Not sad. Not determined to try again until I got a different result. Relieved. Because there are times when it feels like I can barely take care of the kid we have now, let alone two.”
“But you know that I would be there to help you, like I always have been.”
“And I’m grateful for that, I really am. I’ve seen the countless Teen Mom shows, I know that it could be way worse for me and Gio,” she started as she let out a little laugh, “You know, I think I lucked out having you as my baby daddy.”
“Then why are you standing there, telling me how unhappy I make you?”
“No, Dante, that couldn’t be further from the truth. You don’t make me unhappy. And I hope you can say the same about me.”
“I can.”
“But that doesn’t change things.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Look around, Dante. Look at this place. Look at where we are. Neither of us is doing what we thought we would be career-wise. All of our twenties were defined by daycare drop-offs, playdates, and block parties. Gio is going to be in middle school before we know it. Do you really want to go back to that? To dirty diapers as far as the eye can see and countless sleepless nights? Because I sure don’t. And I hate to say it, but it took me staring at a negative pregnancy test to realize it.”
“You’re right. I don’t want that either, but that still doesn’t explain why you kicked me out or why it seems like you’re about to tell me I can’t come back.”
“I’m not saying that,” Brook Lynn started as she pulled a chair closer to him and took his hands in hers, “I’m asking for us to look at things objectively and to finally be honest with one another. To give each other the chance that was taken away from us twelve years ago. For us to decide what it is we truly want without anyone else interfering or telling us what they think is best for us and our son.”
“Exactly, think about our son. Think about Gio for a second. Do you think this is best for him? You know how much the kids in the neighborhood talk. We might have been able to keep our separation a secret from our mothers, but there’s no way that Gio or one of the other kids hasn’t picked up on it.”
“But is that really a good enough reason to stay together?” Brook Lynn wondered, finally saying the words she had been heavily contemplating for the past six weeks, “Because kids in the neighborhood might talk? Because there might be gossip about us at the next block party? That’s all that ever happens in this neighborhood. It wouldn’t be the first time there’s been gossip swirling about us, and we both know it surely won’t be the last.”
“So that’s it then?” Dante wondered as he leaned back in his chair, and she could tell that tears were welling in his eyes, “You’ve made up your mind just like that? Do I even get a say?”
“Of course you do.”
“Really? B ecause it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”
Brook Lynn took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter before she continued, “Then why don’t we start over?”
“And how could we possibly do that?”
“Simple,” she started as she got up, removed the record that had finished playing a long time ago, and returned to her earlier spot across from him, “We sit here and talk. We put everything on the table, and neither of us is allowed to leave until we get everything figured out.”
“You mean until we both decide whether to stay married or get divorced?”
Any remaining resolve she had disappeared at that moment. It was one thing to question her marriage and the integrity behind it, but to actually hear the word divorce and know that it could end up being a real possibility for her was another thing entirely. She took another sip from her wine and did her best to collect herself before she answered: “Yeah, something like that.”
* * * * *
She shuddered as the last scenario played in her mind. She knew that she and Dante once had genuine feelings for each but the idea of marrying him, or marrying anyone besides Chase, for that matter, sickened her. But it was more than that. Chase was the one for her, and even if she never met him, that would still be the case. If she had married anyone else, even Dante, a part of her would always feel like it was missing something. She would always feel incomplete and would probably spend the rest of her life desperately searching for whatever it was that would finally make her feel whole. And knowing her, she wouldn’t care who got hurt in the process.
“So chances are I would still be in this position,” she muttered to herself as she took a sip of her tea. No matter what happened. Whether she kept Gio or knew about Camila’s involvement in his adoption, his life still would have been blown apart at one point or another. Whether it was learning the truth about his biological parents or because even though she was sure that they would have tried their hardest, she and Dante just weren’t meant to be. And she knew better than anyone that living with divorced parents was challenging, even if it was what was best for everyone involved. It still hurt to see how different her friend’s lives were. How much happier they seemed to be with one house that both parents lived in, and holidays that were all spent together as a family.
But it didn’t matter. Her teenage self was right when she realized that keeping Gio would have ruined all three of their lives. She never would have had a chance to pursue a music career, Dante never would have become a cop, and who knows how Gio’s life would have ended up. She could get lost in the what-ifs all she wanted, but she knew, deep down, that it never would have turned out as well or as loving as the life Camila provided for him. And Dante, he would have been miserable staying in Bensonhurst. He would have grown to despise her, maybe even blame her for the way his life turned out. And he’d probably want nothing to do with her, just like he did now. Wasn’t there a common saying about best-laid plans? She had heard it from time to time growing up, and even though she couldn’t remember it exactly, it felt extremely accurate.
She heard the door close and the sound of footsteps in the foyer, and she took a deep breath in preparation. As this was the first time she had stepped out of her room in days, she had no idea what to expect or what kind of interactions would await her. She was sure that her family still had some lingering questions, ones she probably had no idea how to answer. But struggling to answer those questions would still be better than the piteous looks they would give her. She could handle their criticisms, their judgements, hell, even their disdain for her getting pregnant as a teenager, but she always hated it when others pretended to feel bad for her. But nothing could have prepared her for what was waiting for her in the foyer. Something that she had been dreaming about for months, but was certain would never happen.
“Gio,” she said, almost breathless.
“Brook Lynn,” he replied, his demeanor was neutral, but she noticed a hint of pain behind his words. He was doing his best to hide it, but it was something she knew all too well. The need to mask your true emotions so you don’t appear as a burden to anyone, or so your enemies can’t use it against you. And while it might have been selfish to do so, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had inherited that habit from her.
“I’m happy to see you. Is it too brash of me to assume you’re here to see me?”
She watched as he took a deep breath before he forced himself to meet her gaze. “You said you’d answer any questions that I had.”
“Of course,” she immediately replied before her son had a chance to change his mind, “Come, take a seat. Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head as he slowly made his way into the living room and sat in the armchair farthest from her. And while she completely understood why he did it, it didn’t stop her heart from shattering. She did her best to move past it as she placed her teacup down and wondered: “What would you like to know?”
She studied Gio closely as he leaned back in the chair, placed each of his arms on an armrest, and took a deep breath while glancing up at the ceiling. “Did you know?”
“About Camila adopting you? No.” she started, “I learned about that the same time you did. Apparently, it was my Grandma Gloria’s idea.”
He nodded slowly as his eyes met hers, and she felt her breath catch. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his cheeks were puffy, and it was clear as day that he hadn’t been sleeping well. “What did you know?”
And so she told him everything. From learning she was pregnant and how scared she was to telling her mom, and the two of them deciding the best course of action. She explained how hard it was to decide on giving him up for adoption and shared some of her favorite memories from when she was carrying him. And finally, how devastating it was when the nurse took him out of the delivery room, and how her heart broke every time she thought about it. How she always wondered about him and what his life might be like. How close she was to start looking for him, but was stopped by Lois and Gloria. And how that didn’t stop her from dreaming about him finding her one day and telling her everything she would ever need to know about him. His likes, his dislikes, his favorite memories, and the works.
“You mean how I’d thank you,” Gio said a few minutes after she had finished explaining everything.
“You’d thank me?”
“That’s what you mean by me telling you everything about me, right? That I’d be so grateful that you didn’t want me and gave me up. So I’d thank you for it, and all of that guilt you claim to have would magically be resolved.”
She shook her head vigorously as she whispered, “No, of course not.”
“Come on, just be honest with me!”
“I am!” She practically screamed through the tears. “It has been agony not knowing where you were all these years and not knowing if you were happy. I loved you from the minute I learned I was carrying you, and I never, ever forgot about you.”
She watched him carefully as she wiped away her tears. Watched as the gears in his head started to turn before he let out a little laugh and glared straight at her, “Now, that’s rich. You claim to love me. To have always loved me, but I know that’s a lie.”
“It’s not,” she cried.
“Of course it is! Because you didn’t want me. You gave me up and then went on with your life, acting like I never existed. You don’t do that to someone you love.”
“Now, Gio, I need you to listen to me,” she started as she crossed the room and sat in front of him on the coffee table, “I understand how confusing this is. I get that you feel like you can’t trust me or anyone else right now. And I completely understand why you wouldn’t believe a single word out of my mouth, but I need you to know this. I love you in more ways than you’ll ever know. And you deserve the world, you deserve to have the best life imaginable. And it killed me knowing that life was going to be one that didn’t include me. Because I was just a teenager. I barely knew what I was doing with my own life. I still had a lot of growing up to do, and to drag you into all of that didn’t seem fair. But just because I knew I couldn’t care for you, didn’t mean that I didn’t want you. All I knew was that I had to do what was best for you, regardless of what I, or anyone else, wanted.”
She reached out for his hand and was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t pull away. He let out a heavy sigh, causing her to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
She felt her heart break all over again as she watched her son break down in front of her, “Hey, hey, Gio, look at me. You can believe this. You are loved. More than you will ever know and nothing will ever change that.”
“But everything’s different now,” he said as a tear trickled down his cheek.
“I know. But there’s still a lot that has remained the same.”
“Really like what?”
“Well, for starters, you’re still a Cerullo. You still have that whole crazy family looking out for you and will run through fire for you,” she took a deep, calming breath before continuing, “And you are still Camila and Francis’s son, in every way that matters.”
Gio blinked away a few tears and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion as she continued, “I wanted you to be raised by parents who loved you and cherished you. Who could provide for you in ways that I couldn’t, and Camila did just that. She is the one responsible for turning you into the lovely young man you are today. She is who you got your passion and dedication from. And I think we can both agree that she gave you the best life.” She paused to let him process everything she was saying as he nodded in confirmation, “And for that, I will always be grateful to her.”
Gio looked down at their joined hands and started crying again as he met Brook Lynn’s gaze, “She really was the best.”
Brook Lynn smiled tenderly as she gave Gio’s hand another squeeze, “And knowing what we know now doesn’t change that. As far as I’m concerned, it never will.”
“But what about what you said earlier?”
She placed her free hand on his shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes, “I meant every word of it. I would love for us to work through all of this hurt and confusion together. And maybe have a relationship as mother and son one day. But I’m going to follow your lead on that. You can take as much time as you need, and I will be whatever you need me to be during that time. A friend, a cousin…a parent, you name it. Just please don’t push me, or anyone else that loves you for that matter, out of your life.”
“No promises,” Gio said while giving her a little grin, his attempt at making a little joke, which told Brook Lynn she might have succeeded in getting through to him.
“I’ll take it,” she replied while letting out a little laugh before turning serious once again. “Can I ask you a favor, Gio?”
She watched him carefully as he took a minute to consider everything before meeting her gaze once again. “That depends on what it is.”
“If you ever feel like me or any of the Quartermaines are pressuring you in any way about anything, you’ll tell me, right? Because as much as I would like for you to get to know all of us, I want it to be on your terms. I want you to only do what you feel most comfortable with. And–”
“And what?”
She took another deep breath as she let her hand fall from his shoulder, “And I don’t ever want you to feel like letting us in means that you have to forget about your mom. Because that is what Camila will always be: your mom. So if it ever gets to be too much. Or if it feels like I’m trying to replace her, I want you to say something. Tell me the brutal truth, no matter how harsh. Because we both would be doing Camila a disservice if we didn’t. Does that sound like a plan?”
He nodded as he took his hand out of hers, and she started to worry that she might have pushed things too far. “It does, but I don’t think I’m ready for any of that yet.”
She looked down briefly before she got up and walked over by the fireplace, doing her best to give Gio some space without making it look like she was pushing him entirely. “Of course, that’s completely understandable. You set the pace reminder? And when you’re ready…I’ll be here waiting and willing to be whoever it is you need me to be.”
He nodded once more as he stood up and started to make his way to the door, “Thank you, Brook Lynn.”
She couldn’t help but scrunch her eyebrows in confusion, “For what?”
“For being honest with me and for giving me a lot to think about,” he replied before leaving her once again to be alone with her thoughts in the uncharacteristically quiet Quartermaine mansion.