The lobby of the General Hospital was mayhem. The noise from the large crowd almost hurt her ears, and the mass of bodies so closely packed together took her breath away. Christmas carols from the intercom were almost hard to distinguish over the ruckus. Apparently this years annual Christmas festival was going to break the previous years record numbers.
Decorations that were tastefully placed weeks before now were completely over looked as the residents of Port Charles forced Christmas cheer on one another. Kids, their eyes wide in awe made their way from one table to the next, eager to find something new, almost instantly forgetting what'd they'd been occupied by mere minutes before. While their parents, loaded down by winter jackets and cheap carnival prizes tried to keep their children corralled in one general location. From where Elizabeth was standing it seemed as though herding kittens would've been easier.
"Sweetheart I don't know how I can make this up to you." Her Grandmother appeared out of thin air, a garment bag carefully folded over one arm. "I should have known Felica Jones would leave me in a fix. She doesn't have the best track record of following through."
"It's not like I had any huge plans for today." Shrugging, Elizabeth carefully placed her hands deep into the pockets of her winter jacket. It was overly warm already, to the point of almost suffocating.
"But you're on vacation."
"I'm crashing at your house because I lost my job." She replied bitterly. "I think it's the least I can do."
A look of hurt crossed over Audrey Hardy's face, making Elizabeth wish she could've taken back the thoughtless words. It didn't matter that it wasn't her Grandmother's fault she was suddenly jobless. She'd been several states away the day the pink slip magically appeared on her unusually spotless desk. Or that she'd been the one to 'figure' out the District Manager was skimming off the companies funds. But no matter how many times Elizabeth had tried to sooth Audrey's tender feelings, she knew she couldn't make Audrey change her mind.
Wanting to change the subject, and lessen the stress from Audrey's shoulders, Elizabeth nodded to the object in her Grandmother's arms. "What do you have there."
"You're outfit."
A tremor of dread passed over her, as her eyes quickly went from Audrey to the crowd around her. The several volunteers placed strategically around the large lobby all seemed to be dressed in what appeared to be the most tackiest holiday attire known to mankind. Short red dresses that seemed to flare out at the bottom sadly set women back several centuries in the feminist movement. While bright red and green checked vests on the men made Elizabeth choke on a hysterical fit of laughter.
"You're kidding." Elizabeth smirked in disbelief.
An eyebrow raised in her general direction, had Elizabeth jumping to action and taking the offensive outfit from her Grandmother. She'd seen that look before in the past, nothing good ever came from it.
"I'll have you know that I personally picked out the volunteer attire." Audrey sniffed.
"Where you drunk?" Elizabeth muttered as she turned on her heal and wormed her way through the crowd to the nurse's locker room where Audrey said she could change. To think she'd given up a day by the fire gorging on holiday treats and hot coco. She'd didn't have to be a clairvoyant
to know that the day was going to be severally screwed up. Typically phone calls at six in the morning were never filled with tidings of comfort and joy.
But having been a freeloader at her Grandmother's house over the last week put Elizabeth on edge. Not allowing her to dip into her meager savings, Audrey had refused any kind of financial reimbursement for her open ended visit.
At least one good thing came from this visit. Her concern over her Grandmother's retirement two years ago were finally laid to rest. In her mind, Audrey had been wasting away of loneliness. Knitting all day, eating TV dinners at night. It never occurred to her that her Gram had never picked up a pair of knitting needles. The TV dinners were saved for the nights her 'shows' were on. It seemed CSI was the new Murder She Wrote.
Apparently the definition of retirement to nurse Hardy meant leaving the long hours and a steady paycheck in the dust, while pulling even longer hours as a volunteer with absolutely no pay. The woman never stopped. She seemed to be on every committee known to mankind. It made Elizabeth's head swim as she watched from the safety of the couch as the older woman came and went from one meeting to the next.
Looking down at the dress Elizabeth grimaced. "She so owes me."
Twenty minutes later, after several failed attempts at pulling the skirt down past her mid thigh, Elizabeth went in search of her Grandmother in the chaos. Careful to keep to the outside of the general crowd, she let out a sigh of relief when she spotted her within in minutes.
"Don't you look wonderful."
"I'm burning it when I'm done." She muttered.
"Then I'll make sure to take several pictures before you do." Audrey answered back with a smirk. "I have you at the cookie decorating table."
Elizabeth's mouth almost started to water. It seemed she wasn't going to have to forgo the treats after all.
"I know that look Elizabeth Webber." Her Gram warned. "Do I need to remind you of last weeks incident? I've never seen anyone consume such a large amount of Pepto."
Hiding a grin Elizabeth tossed her stray curls over her shoulder. "I have no idea what you speak of. I'm still convinced it was the flu."
"Right." Audrey responded with the same control. "Your station is over in the corner. I tried to keep you from the general crowd."
Love filled Elizabeth's heart, and she quickly blinked away the tears. "Work first, gorging second."
With a nod she slipped past her Grandmother before she made a fool of herself and headed to her work station. Already there were children lined up, their eyes taking in the carefully displayed cookie trimmings. Elizabeth knew the pretty display would soon look like a war zone.
"Who's ready to make cookies?" Forcing out a cheerful greeting, Elizabeth stopped short when a little girl almost plowed into her full force. Practice made it possible to avoid contact, and with a graceful twist the girl sailed past.
"Me!" An instant reply from the eager children rang out, almost filling the empty places inside her soul with seasonal joy.
Taking in her equipment, Elizabeth quickly assessed that the only person on the face of the planet who could've put the table together was one related to her. How many times in the past had she made sugar cookies with her Gram in almost the same fashion? Over a hundred cookies lay in wait to be smeared in frosting and treats. A sign posted near the table claimed the cookie experience required a ticket for participation. The tickets were bought at the front door with the proceeds going to the Children's center.
With one last look at the growing line, Elizabeth let out a breath and focused at the task at hand.
~~~*~~~
Almost an hour into her stint, Elizabeth took a moment to look up and find the line was slowing down. She had lost track of how many cookies she'd frosted. Or how many tenderly created masterpieces ended up on the lobby floor.
Her heart broke every single time, not just for the child, but also for the wasted sweet. It wasn't as though she hadn't seen it coming the moment she'd handed over their blank canvas. But it didn't matter how many times she warned them to be extra careful, accidents happened, and she could always prevent them. A lesson she was still learning.
"Oh no!" A small cry had Elizabeth looking over to find a tearful blond girl looking around in panic. "My tickets."
"What happened?" Elizabeth wanted to wrap her arms around the girl to ensure the flood gate didn't open, but knew better then to step out from behind the table.
"I can't find them." The little girl wailed. Making Elizabeth instantly look around for her parents.
"Toby took them." A red headed boy from behind her answered. A look of guilt written across his face. "I saw him do it near the craft table but was too afraid to tell. Here you can have my last ticket." Handing over his blue stub, he turned to leave.
"Hey." Not sure why she yelled out, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a pull for the little boy. "What's your name?"
"Michael Cornithos." The boy answered with a tone most adults couldn't pull off.
"Well Michael," Taking the ticket from the girl and exchanging it with a cookie, Elizabeth wiped the crumbs from her hands before continuing. "The way I see it is that you should be rewarded for you generosity."
The little boy frowned as he contemplated what she'd said. "I should've said something. It was wrong not to."
"Perhaps." Elizabeth amended, not knowing what values his parents worked hard to instill into their son, she didn't want to contradict his apparent good upbringing. "But you seem to be the last one in line and there's one last cookie. This is my table and I think you should have it."
This seemed to be agreeable to the boy as he quickly stepped forward. Again she felt as though she was being filled with good feelings and after the long day on her feet she welcomed it.
Michael took great care in his decorations. Where most of the kids had loaded on as many sweets as the cookie could hold, Michael carefully designed his treat. His tiny tongue stuck out as he concentrated. When he was done he took a step back and gave a nod.
"That's a very nice looking cookie." Elizabeth complimented.
With a shy smile, Michael looked down at his masterpiece. "I made it for you."
His words floored her. Unable to comprehend anyone giving up something that would in no doubt taste sinful, much less a kid, she stood with her mouth wide open. Knowing she must look silly, she tried to pull herself together. "I couldn't. It's yours."
"The way I see it." The little boy almost seemed to smirk. "Is that you gave me this cookie to do what I wanted. I want to give it to you."
She must've really been thrown for a loop, because she hadn't been aware when he slipped around the table and wrapped his arms around her waist to hug her. "Merry Christmas."
It happened so quickly. Too fast for her to stop. The room swam away, leaving a buzzing sound ringing in her ears. Everything turned black for only a moment, when sudden an image popped in front of her eyes.
It only lasted a second. No one seemed to hardly notice. When she came to Michael was already waiving goodbye as he bleed into the crowd, leaving her unable to speak or move. Blinking back tears of anguish, bile rose in her throat. No matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes shut the images wouldn't disappear.
Michael Corinthos was going to die in two days.
