Dear Diary,
I suppose it was premature to think that my son and I might actually have a chance at a quiet life. Mr. Morgan came to visit today, to remind us of exactly what we had left behind.
He and Mrs. Morgan immediately got into an argument about our having left Port Charles. "You come home now!" "No! Me stay! Carly no wake! Kids safe here!" Mrs. Morgan started banging a twenty pound dumbbell against the wall, bashing a hole in it. I hustled the children upstairs and then coaxed the dumbbell away from her. "Now Mrs. Morgan, why don't we call that nice Officer Beck to come fix that? You like him, don't you?"
Mrs. Morgan's face softened. "Me like Brian! He really ripped!" She ran off to phone him.
I think Brian must have known something about Mr. Morgan's line of work. Or maybe it was the blood stains on his leather jacket that gave him away. In any case, Brian rather pointedly told us about his father having been killed by the mafia. Fearing the worst, I walked him to the door and said goodbye as quickly as possible. As I came back in, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were trying to puzzle this one out:
"Brian dad die? Mob kill dad? Crime bad! Mob bad!" Mrs. Morgan pounded him hard enough to knock a normal man to the ground. "Why you never tell me crime bad?"
Mr. Morgan pounded her right back. "NO! Mob no bad! Cop bad! Bad cop! Me kill bad cop, then we go home now!"
Mrs. Morgan pinned her husband with her powerful arms. "Jason, me love when you talk dirty! First kiss, then kill cop."
Cringing away from the sight of their clinch, I told the Morgans that Brian had left, so they'd have to kill him another day. After another few rounds of "Come home now!" "No go!" and so forth, Mr. Morgan left as well.
The children were already asleep, so I just had to get Mrs. Morgan into bed -- first her bedtime dose of L-glutamine, mixed in fat-free cottage cheese just the way she likes it, then her Gold's Gym jammies, brush teeth, read a "bedtime story," i.e. tomorrow's training schedule, then lights out -- and I finally had the house to myself and a few moments to think.
I have to admit, even with the constant threat of violence both intentional and unintentional, Mrs. Morgan isn't as bad as the Corinthos'. A bit dim-witted, but she means well. And least I don't have to worry about her shooting anyone in the head.