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Still Believe written in September 2008 Author's
note: Jerry and Kate are conveniently out of the picture for unknown
reasons. Locking her silver Lexus, more out of habit than necessity, Alexis made her way to the front door of Greystone. Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell. There was no response. She pressed the decorative little button again and waited. Still no response. Tapping her nails on the door frame, she wondered if she should use the spare key Sonny had given her—“just in case,” he’d said. Reaching into the coat pocket for her keychain, her hand stopped before a jumble of cold metal registered on her fingertips: perhaps Sonny was busy. The last thing Alexis wanted was to find him busy the way she’d found Max and Diane busy the last time she’d used the spare key. She shook her head slightly, willing away the mental image. She would try once again and then leave, she decided. As her hand reached up to the doorbell for the third time, the front door swung open. “Oh, uh, hi, Ms. Davis,” a breathless Max said, obviously surprised to see her. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Uh, come in.” He moved to the side, giving her space so that she could pass. Alexis smiled: Max was cute when he was apologetic. “Thank you,” she said, as she walked inside. He closed the door behind her without a sound, and then he politely took her jacket. She had to turn her head to hide the grin on her face: perhaps Diane did find herself a good catch after all. Max led Alexis to the living room. “Is Sonny home?” “He’s working on something upstairs. I’ll let him know you’re here.” “Oh, I don’t mean to disturb him, if he’s busy,” Alexis said, unsure of whether she should stay. “Honestly?” Alexis’ curiosity made her nod, as she prepared to hear information she would rather not know. “In all these years, he’s never been too busy to see you.” Max excused himself before she could think of an appropriate response. Left alone, Alexis observed the familiar surroundings. She’d always liked the reddish-brown shade of the interior design; it gave the house an aura of home, of family. The penthouse had certainly had charm, but it had never felt homey. The absence of metal surfaces and the substantially smaller liquor counter only added to the domestic atmosphere of the place. Her favorite feature of the house was the mahogany; it could be traced through the entire residence, from doors and tables to bedposts and staircases. There was something special about the royal wood—it always managed to evoke a sense of safety in her, even in this house. Although no doubt arranged by a decorator, Alexis could clearly see Carly’s hand in the well-balanced design. The conspicuous lampshades dispersed through the rooms commanded attention and added a touch of fireworks, preventing the otherwise unassuming decor to fade into the background. No, Carly What’s-Her-Last-Name-This-Month was not a woman easily kicked out or erased from one’s life: wherever she went, she always left a blazing trail behind her. Alexis only hoped that Jax would not be permanently scarred by her fire. As her eyes scanned the harmoniously decorated living room, a frame on the photo shelf caught Alexis’ eye. She walked over and took it from the shelf. The photo was one taken about a year and a half ago, towards the end of the chemotherapy. It had been a Sunday, and she had asked Sonny to bring Michael and Morgan over, so Kristina could play with her brothers, yet still be with her mom and sisters. The photo Alexis was looking at now was only one of hundreds that Sam had taken during that loud, happy afternoon. Initially, she had only been taking candid shots of the kids playing. Then Sonny had offered to take a few photos of the Davis girls so that Sam could be in them. Grateful, Sam returned the favor by getting some of Sonny and Kristina alone. She, then, proceeded to take some of the boys with Sonny; that had taken a while because Morgan was being cranky and Kristina got impatient. Alexis vividly remembered Kristina’s reaction.
Alexis smiled. “Yes, you most definitely are a Corinthos, my persistent daughter.” “Come here, sport.” Sonny motioned to Kristina, who instantly ran to her father. Sam snapped away at Sonny and his three children. “Now let’s get everybody in the same photo,” Sam suggested. “I really think that’s enough photos for one day,” Alexis said. “As soon as I get this last group photo,” Sam replied in a tone that left no room for discussion. “Sometimes I think you’re more of a slavedriver than chemo!” “Guess it runs in the family,” Sam said with a wink. “Get into place, everybody.” Kristina readily positioned herself in the middle of the couch with a huge smile on her face, as Alexis sat to her right with Molly on her lap, and Sonny to her left with Morgan on his lap. Michael sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Sonny and Kristina. “Okay, I’ll count to three. One. Two. Three.” The flash went off. “Are we done now?” a blinking Alexis asked Sam, who was busy looking at the display screen of her camera. “No, we’re not done yet. This photo was great; you all look picture perfect, but you also look like an uptight Republican family.” Sonny laughed. “That’s not funny,” Alexis warned. Sonny tilted his head. “Then why don’t we try to look a little more democratic?” “Why don’t we all hug?” Kristina suggested. “You’re a genius!” Sam said. Kristina beamed. “I am?” ”Of course you are! You’re a genius, just like your mom,” Sonny said, briefly establishing eye contact with Alexis. “And you get your interest for the kitchen from your daddy.” “Yeah, Daddy is the best cook ever!” “Less talking and more smiling and hugging,” Sam instructed. “Photo Nazi,” Alexis murmured under her breath. In a matter of seconds, with their arms around each other, the group was transformed into an affectionate suburban family. “One. Two. Three.” The camera flashed again. “Perfect! Now it’s over.”
With her fingertips, Alexis traced the light green capital letters glued at the top of the frame. Her index finger traced the first letter. M. Then Y. The tip of her finger lingered for a moment in between the two words spelled out on the frame. Then an F and an A. The M was followed by an I and an L, and, at the end, a Y. Alexis’ fingers traced each letter separately, leisurely, as if treasuring each component of the word that had become her reason to live—her family. The clearing of a throat brought Alexis out of her little reverie. She turned to face him. “Uh, hi, Sonny.” “A penny for your thoughts.” There was warmth in his voice. “Just a penny?” Sonny smiled, his tell-tale dimples appearing instantly. “Always driving a hard bargain, counselor.” “You know me.” Alexis smiled. “I was just remembering the day that Kristina brought this frame from school. She was so excited.” “And she was still excited when she gave it to me. She couldn’t stop talking about the photo that I had to put in the frame. She had to be in the photo, of course, and it had to be a photo of herself that she liked, mind you.” “That sounds like Kristina,” Alexis said, oddly pleased that Sonny had gotten to know his daughter so well. “And her brothers had to be in the photo as well, since it had My Family written on it.” “And you ended up choosing this one?” Alexis asked. “It’s a great photo, and it’s a nice memory.” “I thought the photo shoot would never end. I hate being photographed once, let alone a hundred times. I was exhausted from all the chemo to even put on a wig. Look at me with my scarf.” “You look perfect. And there was that Republican joke. Imagine that: us—Republicans!” “It’s still not funny.” “But it was a fun afternoon.” “Yes it was,” Alexis conceded. “But there were plenty of photos of just the kids, and you and the boys and Kristina. I’ll get Sam to make you a CD of all the photos so that you can choose a more suitable photo for the frame.” “No need. Sam already did that. Most of these photos are from that day,” Sonny explained, pointing to the five other frames on the shelf with all combinations of Sonny, Kristina, and the boys. “Did Kristina want you to put this particular photo in this frame?” “No. It was all me.” “But I don’t understand. What does that mean?” Sonny didn’t respond right away. She could tell he was thinking about what he wanted to say. “It means what anyone would think it means. This is my family.” “But I’m in the photo.” “Don’t you get it, Alexis? You are my family.” “No, Sonny, I’m just the mother of one of your children. For this photo to be complete the way you’re thinking, Carly would have to be in it too.” “Then I would look like a polygamist!” “Sonny,” Alexis berated, giving him a small smile nonetheless. “Sure, you being Kristina’s mother has a lot to do with you being family. But you became family long before Kristina.” Sonny paused for a moment, looking at her intently, as if to make sure that she was listening. “You became family the moment you started seeing the man I could be, rather than the man I was.” “But what about Carly? You were in love for a long time.” “Yes, we were. And she was a part of my family for so long that sometimes I have to remind myself that she no longer is—she is now part of the Jacks family. But it’s more than that. Yes, she’s the mother of my sons, and I care about her, but there were times when Carly seemed more interested in the person that I represented than the man that I was inside.” Sonny rubbed his chin. “But with you …” Alexis waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “With me what?” she asked, whispering. “With you, it was … different. You first saw me as your mob boss client, and as we became friends, you started seeing me as the man that I was—the man that I wanted to be. You believed in me, against the odds, and I wish that at the time I could have been the man you believed I could be. It’s taken such a long time for me to finally do what I knew to be right all those years ago. The mob boss is gone now, and all that’s left is the man that I am, the man I hope to be. And I hope to be a man worthy of a woman like you. I want someone to believe in me. Like you once did. I need someone to believe in the good in me again.” He stopped for a moment, quickly blinking away the water in his eyes. “Because of all of that, this photo belongs in this frame.” Sonny took a step forward and reached out to touch the frame still in Alexis’ hands. His fingers brushed over each of his children’s faces, lingering on Michael’s just a little longer, then Molly’s, until it finally rested on Alexis’ warm smile. She looked up to observe the thoughtful look on his face; it was wistful, sad even. When he lifted his gaze to find her, their eyes locked. He had just bared his soul to her without an ulterior motive. He wasn’t asking for anything; he just wanted her to know how he felt. Like he used to do all those years ago. Back then, he had hoped for understanding from her, but he had never demanded it. He’d demanded other things, but not understanding because it was not something that could be forced into being given. Yet, she had always given it to him freely. Even when it had cost her her heart. Now, as if by instinct, as if were the most natural thing to do, she found herself giving it to him again. Her hand reached up to caress his jaw. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, and then she felt him lean into her touch. For a brief moment his eyelids closed. When their eyes locked again, the smallest of smiles appeared on his face. As her fingers traced his smile, her face inched closer to his until her lips softly brushed over his. Her lips languidly moved over his top lip, and then his bottom lip, as he responded with equal tenderness. It was like two young teenagers sharing a first kiss—slow and unsure, but with no desired end. His hands cupped her face in the softest of touches, as their lips continued to sway to the rhythm of a familiar, yet unspoken love.
“I still believe in you, Sonny. I never stopped believing.” His face seemed to light up at her words, but there was still uncertainty in his eyes. Alexis smiled and shrugged slightly. “And it looks like I never will.” Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, he finally smiled. Then, very slowly, he leaned in and placed a single kiss on her lips. As her eyes fluttered, his hands slid down and wrapped themselves around her waist. The familiar scent of Sonny overwhelmed her senses, as she found herself enveloped in his strong arms. His lips trailed her face as if he were an artist trailing his paintbrush over her canvas. Reaching her ear, she felt his warm breath hesitate, and then came the whispered plea that melted all of her doubts: “Please don’t walk away this time.” “Please don’t let me.” THE END
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