Written in 61 minutes.

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For the first time in living memory, Thanksgiving dinner made it to the table at the Quartermaines. The family crowded around the large dining table, and maybe by some silent agreement, even Tracy kept her opinions to herself. After all, there was always after dinner.

“I’m actually kind of disappointed,” Danny said, following Jake into the foyer with a wrinkle of his nose. “I wanted the distraction of smoke alarms or one of the dogs getting to the turkey.”

Jake smirked, but some of his amusement faded as he watched Scout sit on the bottom step, her head in her hands again. Through the open double doors to the front sitting room, Drew was standing at the mini bar with Willow.

If Scout was to be believed — and Jake did — she’d seen her father kissing the much younger and very married wife of his own nephew. And then Drew had basically manipulated his own daughter into doubting herself to keep her quiet. Jake struggled to merge the image of the man he’d loved as a father for so long with a predatory older man seducing his own niece-in-law and gaslighting his daughter. Had prison rotted his brain?

And should Jake really keep this to himself? He’d promised Scout, but this really felt like something he should escalate to a higher being. Keeping the secret from Michael felt dirty, even wrong, especially after his cousin had been so supportive after everything had gone to hell.

“Jake, you almost ready?”

He turned to see his mother with her coat over one arm. His father stood slightly behind her, his own jacket already on. “Uh, actually—” He looked at Danny. “I was thinking if you want, I could stay and we could take another shot at that COD mission. We almost have it.”

Danny’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that would be cool. If that’s okay,” he said to Elizabeth. “I know Jake was gone for a long time and you missed him.”

“No, it’s great,” Elizabeth said, fishing in her purse. She retrieved her keys. “If you want, why don’t you take the car, and Jason can give me a ride home.” She looked at Jake’s dad. “If that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

Jake retrieved the keys. “Thanks, Mom. Really. What time are you going in tomorrow?”

“One, so be home in time.” She kissed his cheek and squeezed Danny’s arm. “Have a good time.”

“That’s the plan,” Jake said, tucking the keys in the pocket of his hanging jacket. He looked over at Scout, then at Danny. “Hey, before we play though, maybe we could do something with Scout. I think she was really upset before dinner.”

“Yeah, Drew signed the lease for a place in DC.” Danny made a face. “They’re going after the holidays, and he wants to her to pack. They’re going to the penthouse this weekend to pack her room.”

“Oh…has she…have either you been back…” Jake trailed off when Danny looked at the ground. “Sorry, stupid question.”

“No, it’s…it’s just a place, you know. But it’s…the last time I left home, I was gonna see my mom, and we were planning for her to come home.” Danny crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, leaving them dangling at his side. “Just…doesn’t feel right to go there without her.” He looked at his sister. “But I should go with Scout. When she goes, you know? I’m her brother. I should have realized she wasn’t feeling good today.”

“You’re dealing with this, too,” Jake told him. “That’s what I’m here for. To support you both. C’mon, let’s go see what Scout wants to do.”

—

Their feet crunched over the gravel-lined driveway as Elizabeth followed Jason to his SUV. “Sorry to just volunteer you as my chauffeur,” she said, reaching the passenger door. When she heard the beep of the remote locks, she tugged on the door.

“It’s fine.” Jason switched on the ignition, but didn’t change the gears, waiting for her to sort herself—place her purse on the floor, fasten her seatbelt. “But we should probably look into something for Jake. Unless—” he paused, looked at her. “I know he’s been rough, I mean behavior and attitude—”

“That’s part of the reason I wanted to drive with you.” She reached over, squeezed his forearm. “Whatever you said to him last week, after you guys talked to Danny, thank you. We talked this morning, and I really felt the difference, you know? He’s still upset and a little confused, but I don’t…the anger seems to have faded. Or maybe he’s hiding it better. I just felt like I was talking to my son again today.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t even say you didn’t do anything,” Elizabeth interrupted. She released his arm, folded her hands in her lap, leaning her head against the back of the chair, exhaled on a slow breath. “It’s been such a nightmare, dragging all that back. Having the same arguments with Lucky, reliving those awful decisions.” She looked back at him. “I know you forgave me, but I just…I have to say it again. I have so many regrets in my life, but that day in the penthouse, it’s number one. Followed by the day I asked you to give him up. It was so wrong to even ask it.”

“It was wrong to agree,” Jason said. He looked straight ahead, out into the darkness of the trees that bordered this side of the Quartermaine property. “I had my reasons, but agreeing to it, letting it continue, it just made you think I didn’t love him. That I didn’t want him.”

“I—” Elizabeth paused, tried to consider her words carefully. “I won’t say I didn’t doubt it. Especially at first. That day in the penthouse. Of course now, I can look back, and I can remember the way you looked, the way you sounded, and how it was just you making things all right for me. Like you always do—”

“You started to tell me a hundred times,” Jason told her quietly, and she stopped, their eyes meeting. She had, of course, nearly worked up the nerve so many times. “And I always said something that stopped you. Or you were interrupted by something else. We put this all to bed a long time ago, Elizabeth. It doesn’t—” He curled one hand around the steering wheel, his voice turning slightly gravelly. “It doesn’t do any good to look back, think of what could have been different. What should have been different.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes, feeling the familiar prick of tears. “I really thought I’d forgiven myself, you know. But it’s hard when Jake looks at me, and he asks these questions I just can’t answer. That I don’t want to answer. But he deserves to know, I think, a little bit of it. Maybe not all of it, but some.”

“I…thought I’d forgiven myself, too,” he said slowly, and she looked at him again, surprised. “For what happened after Michael was shot. That’s what I told Jake that day. For the choices I made when he was a baby, before he was born, for the choices I made two years ago.”

“We were scared,” she said. “We did the best we could—” she sighed, looked at the windshield. “I can’t say I regret how things turned out. I have Aiden, and you have Danny.”

There was a moment of quiet, and she thought he’d put the car into reverse and start the drive home. But he didn’t.

“We would have had more kids.”

Elizabeth turned her head to look at him, found him watching her. The corner of her mouth curved up. “Oh, probably. How many?”

“How many did you want?”

Thinking that maybe he was just trying to lighten the moment, talking about the dream children that would never exist, she forced herself to say something equally light-hearted. “Oh, dozens. To start with. You?”

“Whatever made you happy.”

Their eyes held for a long moment, and something seemed to happen, something in the air, a shift, something that sent her pulse racing, had her breath coming just a bit faster. Finally, he looked away, shifted the car out of park.

And they didn’t speak again.

—

After watching a movie with Scout, then playing Call of Duty for several hours, Danny crashed, but Jake couldn’t sleep.

He crept down the back staircase to the kitchen, hoping to raid the kitchen and find some of the leftover from dessert that night. But he wasn’t the only one with that plan—

Michael was at the counter, unwrapping the same pan of tiramisu Jake had in mind. His cousin paused, knife in hand, and grinned. “Oh, thank God. I thought you were Sasha. She hates when I get into the kitchen after she’s cleaned up for the night.” He tipped it towards Jake. “You wanna get a fork? I’m feeling hungry enough to finish what’s left.”

Jake was uneasy about being around Michael on his own, worried that the secret he was keeping was emblazoned across his forehead, but avoiding him wasn’t going to help Jake sleep any sooner. “Yeah, sure.”

When they were settled at the table with the pan between them and forks in hand, Jake asked, “So you come all the way up from the gatehouse a lot?”

“Since Sasha took over, yeah. Beats cooking for yourself, and she’s one of the best.” Michael shifted in his seat, took another bite. “I’m glad you’re hanging around Danny—and Scout. They need the distraction, you know?”

“Yeah. And we didn’t get a disaster shutting down dinner this year.” Jake swirled his fork in the pan. “You’re, like, a CEO, right? So you have to make hard decisions a lot.”

“I guess.” Michael tipped his head. “Why? Everything okay?”

Jake considered his words carefully. “What if you promised not to tell someone something before you found out what it was, and now that you know—you think maybe this is the kind of thing you shouldn’t be in charge of knowing?”

“You mean, is it ever morally right to break a promise if your intentions are to help the person?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a good way to put it.”

“It depends. Is this person going to be hurt? Are they in danger?”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, maybe. And this thing—” Jake pressed his lips together. “It affects other people. And it makes me mad. I wanna do something stupid. Like pop tires. Or sugar in the gas tank.”

Michael’s fork stilled, and he looked at Jake. “But you’re not gonna do those things.”

“I said they were stupid,” Jake muttered. “You said that just like Cam would have.”

“Older brothers who have been there and done that. I’ve done some stupid things in my life—a lot of stupid things that I thought were a good idea at the time.” Michael set his fork down. “And I had a younger brother who was impulsive and did a lot of things without thinking.”

Right. Morgan. Jake hadn’t thought about him in a long time — he’d been just a kid when that had happened. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”

“I didn’t bring him up to make you feel bad. It’s just—I know how easy it is to give in to the anger. To the need to hurt someone else. My parents did it, so did my brother. I did. And I know my sister’s done it a time or two. I’m hoping I raise my kids better than that. And that I steer my little cousins in a better direction.” He folded his arms. “Now, this thing that makes you mad and might hurt other people. What happens if you tell the truth?”

“The person who told me won’t…they’ll be angry that I broke my promise. And maybe they won’t trust me or anyone else again. I don’t want them to feel alone.”

“Is this about Danny? I know he’s had a really hard time, especially since Alexis started all of this custody stuff. He’s trying not to talk about it, but—”

“It’s not Danny.” Jake took a deep breath. “It’s Scout. I found her crying earlier. Before dinner, sitting all alone in the nursery.” He looked down, missing the way Michael flinched at the mention of that room.

“It’s going to be really hard for her, going to DC. Danny has you and his dad, and all his family. Scout will be on her own. I wish…I wish Drew would leave her here, but—” Michael grimaced. “That’s a nonstarter for a lot of reasons.” He paused. “But something’s wrong, and you can’t tell anyone. It’s more than moving? More than her mom?”

“I guess all of that is part of it. Or making it worse.” Jake twirled the fork again. “Her dad did something pretty awful, and he’s making Scout lie about it, but it’s a really fucked up way. He told her she didn’t see it. But she did.”

Michael’s mouth tightened, and he dipped his head for a long moment. “And what she saw? This is the thing you don’t want to tell me? That will hurt people?”

“It’s what I promised to keep secret. But I think—I think she made me promise because of what Drew said to her. That she was bad if she lied, that maybe her mom would be disappointed in her, and that’s so messed up, you know? Maybe I should tell you because he’s an asshole, and shouldn’t get away with it—”

Michael held up his hand, and Jake stopped talking. “I think,” his older cousin began painfully, “that maybe you don’t have to tell me what she saw. She saw Drew, didn’t she? With someone else?”

There was a pit in his stomach, and Jake slowly nodded. “Yeah. You…you already know?”

“Yeah. I already know.” Michael dragged his hands down his face. “This is a goddamned nightmare,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jake. “They’re not even trying to keep this a secret. Are they trying to get caught?”

“Michael.”

“Where did she see them?” Michael wanted to know, dropping his hands. “She saw Drew with my wife, right? Where? When?”

“In the nursery—”

His face went white. “Oh, God, not the night her mother died. Tell me Scout didn’t see them that night.”

“I don’t—” Jake swallowed hard. “I don’t think so. She made it sound recent. Oh, oh, man. Michael, I’m so sorry—”

“Recent. So after the hospital where your mother saw them, and after the nursery when the nanny cam—” Michael stopped, took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m going—don’t worry. I already knew. Scout never needs to know we had this conversation.”

“Michael—”

“Thank you. For telling me. Or working your way around it.” Michael got up, his hands trembling slightly, gripping the chair so hard, the knuckles were white. “You’re a good kid. A good brother. You don’t have to worry about this anymore, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

He left then, through the terrace leading outside, and Jake just stared after him, then looked at the soggy mess in the tin pan on the table.

He should have stayed upstairs.

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