Written in 57 minutes.

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Saturday, September 21, 2024

Harborview Towers: Lobby

Elizabeth leaned back against the chair, and flicked through her notes for the next month’s master schedule, reviewing vacation requests and PTO requests. She hoped that Danny’s conversation with his mother didn’t take too long — this wasn’t exactly how she wanted to spend her Saturday and she was eager to know how things had gone for Jake and Jason with Monica and Drew—

There was a ding of the elevator and Elizabeth lifted her gaze, expecting to see Danny. She was already half-standing, sliding her phone back in her purse when she realized who was striding off the elevator.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam demanded, her face flushed. Danny trailed behind her, a slight edge of panic in his miserable expression. “You have no right to be sticking your nose in my son’s life! You’re not his mother!”

“No, I’m not,” Elizabeth said, forcing her tone to remain flat and even. To treat Sam like an irate patient or an insubordinate employee. The last thing any of them needed was Elizabeth to lose her temper — Danny already looked like he wanted to die.

“Mom—”

“I knew you were going to use this therapy crap to turn him against me!” Sam spat. “You pushed him at this doctor, and you pushed your way into a parent session! You’re not his mother!”

“So you’ve said. I’m just trying to help, Sam, but this was obviously a bad idea. Danny—” Elizabeth gestured towards the front entrance. “Why don’t we head back to the house—”

“Yeah—” Danny started past his mother, but Sam shoved him back and grabbed Elizabeth’s arm before she could take more than a handful of steps.

“You’re not going anywhere with my son! He’s staying here.”

“Mom—”

“Let me go,” Elizabeth said, tugging at Sam’s grasp, one eye on the security guards behind the desk. “You don’t want to do this right now.”

“Danny, go upstairs,” Sam ordered. “You’re not going anywhere with her. I’ve seen through your little game,” she said to Elizabeth. “You think you can turn my son against me the way you turned Jason? It’s not going to work—”

“I’m not doing anything, Sam. Let me go,” Elizabeth repeated, heat crawling up her spine, her chest tightening with fury. “Last warning.”

“Mom!”

“If you try to walk out that door with my son, I’ll call the cops and have you thrown in jail for kidnapping. Yeah, what’s that going to do to your bail?” Sam snarled when Elizabeth jolted.

“Are you insane?” Elizabeth demanded. She started to struggle in earnest now, tugging at Sam’s grasp, lifting her other hand to plant against Sam’s shoulder, intending to push her, maybe to dislodge the claw-like hold on her arm—

But Sam swung out with her free hand, backhanding Elizabeth so hard her head snapped to the side, and she tasted blood in her cheek.

“Mom!” Danny cried. “Stop it!”

Elizabeth touched her lip, saw the blood, then lifted her eyes to Sam’s smug face. Everything screamed in her to let it go. To leave and have Jason resolve the issue — Danny was his son, after all, and he had emergency custody. To engage with Sam any further would put her freedom at risk.

But to have this woman standing in front of her, accusing her of kidnapping — this woman — who had hit her so hard that Elizabeth’s ears were ringing—

She tossed her purse aside and went for Sam’s throat with her free hand, digging in until Sam grunted, released Elizabeth’s arms, and started clawing at Elizabeth’s fingers, falling backwards.

TJ & Molly’s Apartment: Living Room

TJ peered over Molly’s shoulder, then furrowed his brow. “Am I reading that headline right?”

Molly jolted at his voice, looking up and releasing a breath. “You scared me. I thought you were still sleeping.”

“It’s almost noon,” TJ told her, taking a seat next to her on the sofa, a bowl of ramen in his hands. “I have to go back in at four—I know, I hate it, too. But they needed someone to take the night shift—”

“You haven’t had a full night off in so long,” Molly murmured, but she knew it was a futile conversation. TJ was as devoted to his career as she was to hers, and it was just something they were going to have to work around.

“Next weekend, I promise. But that headline about your mom, is that for real?”

Molly turned her tablet around so that TJ could see for himself. He cradled his ramen in one hand, and reached for it, balancing it in his hand, using his thumb to scroll. “Your mom plead not guilty by reason of insanity to a murder?”

“Luis Alcazar. More than twenty years ago. It was just after my sister was born. She was premature, you know. Kristina.” Molly sighed, braced her head on her fist, and her elbow against the back of the sofa. “I think it’s part of the reason Mom has so much trouble letting Kristina hit rock bottom — she nearly died at birth, and then Mom lost custody for eight or nine months while she was in treatment. But…” Molly bit her lip. “She never told us about the diagnosis. Dissociative identity disorder. It’s not genetic or anything—”

“But there are genetic factors that can influence it,” TJ murmured. He leaned forward, setting his bowl down on the table so he could focus on the article more intently. “What made you look this up?”

“Jason and Brenda Barrett were convicted of this man’s murder. It was overturned, thank God, and Mom was charged, but—” Molly chewed on her bottom lip. “I think the reason she never told us about this — about the disorder or the case — I don’t think it was real. This isn’t a disorder you have for a minute and then just recover from forever. Mom went through rehab for her alcoholism. This should have come up in the intake, and it didn’t.”

“You think your mom faked it to beat the charges?”

“Maybe. This guy set a bomb that killed Mom’s little sister — the first Kristina. Mom had a motive, you know? But either she was lying to us our whole lives about this illness — or she was lying back then. And if she lied back then—”

“She let Jason and that other woman get convicted for something they didn’t do.”

“Yeah.”

TJ handed her the tablet back without further comment, picked up his lunch. Molly was grateful for his lack of reaction — she hadn’t really been able to articulate what troubled her about the case history she’d seen on Chase’s board.

“I’m starting to feel like I don’t understand or know my mother or my sister at all,” Molly admitted. “After what Kristina’s said — what she was planning — my mother standing by letting it happen —” She looked at TJ. “They’re suspects in Cates’ murder. I can’t know anything about that part of the investigation, but I know Chase hasn’t been able to eliminate them.”

“Molls.”

“I started this. I—” Her throat was tight. “What if I started this whole crusade and it turns out my own family did it? How do I live with myself, TJ?” Her eyes burning, she closed them, feeling the tears slide beneath her lashes.

She heard the clink of the bowl hitting the table again, and then TJ pulling her into his arms.

“You did what was right, Mol. You saw an injustice and tried to fix it. Everyone makes their own choices, you know? Including your mom and Kristina. How could you live with yourself if you’d done nothing and another innocent woman was sent to jail?”

“I know.” She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “I can’t stop this from happening. It’s out of my hands.”

Quartermaine Estate: Monica’s Room

“I wish I could tell you I have any influence over Drew,” Monica said, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea, her blue eyes faded and tinged with exhaustion. “But I’m not sure he’ll listen to anyone. Except a campaign manager.”

Jason grimaced. “I know. And I hate even trying to ask you—” Every time he saw his mother, she seemed to have diminished more and more. Just like the final visits with his grandmother, and it weighed on him — the loss of the woman he’d wasted so much time pushing away.

“But you’ll do whatever you have to for your family,” Monic said. She set the tea down and reached for his hand — then squeezed it as best she could, though the pressure was light. “I feel the tension, too. Drew’s clashing with everyone, and this business with taking Scout away from her mother—” She paused. “I’ve never pretended that I approved of Sam — which I know carried little weight with you —”

“It’s okay—”

“Let me say this.” She patted his hand. “I never thought she was a good match for you. Too much like you,” she added. “Addicted to adrenaline, to living fast, to taking risks, and not thinking much about the future. You needed someone to keep you grounded. Tied to not only today, but yesterday and tomorrow. But there was nothing I could have said to you that would have influenced your choices.”

Jason was quiet for a moment, taking in her words, acknowledging, at least to himself, the truth in them. “But?” he prompted.

“I have seen glimpses of Sam showing some real maturity, some growth. She’s not a bad mother. Or one to put them in danger.” Monica’s lips twitched slightly. “She’s not that different that who I was when I raised you and AJ, you know. I loved you both so  very much. Your father and I both did. But neither one of us could see past our own needs. Our own selfishness. And it made us…careless parents,” she said, after considering the words. “I see that in Sam — and I’ve seen it in you.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then nodded. “I haven’t been a good father for most of Jake or Danny’s lives. I’m trying to do better now. But it’s hard. To know the right choices. I left them. I left Jake. I let someone else take on being his father. I thought it was better for him—” He shook his head. “But it wasn’t about him. It never was. It was about me. And not wanting the guilt of being the reason he was hurt. He’d already been kidnapped, Elizabeth had already been in so much danger, and Michael —” He stopped, unable to speak of the horror that had befallen Michael as a child.

“You made mistakes, Jason. All parents do. Your father and I made them over and over again. I didn’t hold on tight enough to you boys when you were children, and then — when it mattered, I tried to hold too much and I drove you away—”

“It wasn’t just you,” Jason said, and Monica smiled sadly.

“It started with us. I was your mother, and I should have done  better by you. The guilt never fades, Jason. For all the ways you fail your children. But you can’t live in the past. You can’t let it steal the future. You’re here today, trying to do better. Which is more than I can say for Drew. He’s not ready to stop being selfish, and until he is, I’m not sure we can convince him that putting Scout through this custody battle is hurting her and Danny more than helping anyone. But I promise I’ll try, and for as long as Scout is in this house, I’ll make sure she’s looked after—”

“I know you will—” Jason was interrupted when the door to the bedroom was thrown open and Jake strode in, a phone in his hand. “I thought you were keeping Scout occupied—”

“I was, but—” Jake thrust the the phone at him. “You need to talk to Danny and we need to go. Sorry Grandmom,” he said as an afterthought.

Jason took the phone, but he could hear Danny’s panicked voice even before it reached his ear. “Please! Stop! Mom!”

“Danny?” Jason demanded, getting to his feet. “What’s going on?”

“You have to stop them! Mom attacked Elizabeth, and now they’re fighting, and they’re going to call the cops, and you have to—Mom! No!” Danny’s voice faded, and Jason realized he must have dropped or put down the phone because he could just hear faint sounds — and he recognized the sounds of a grunting, voices shouting—

“Damn it,” he muttered. He hung up, and looked at his mother. “I have to go—”

“Go. Go. Call me later,” Monica ordered.

“Let’s go,” Jason told Jake, gesturing towards the door. And hoped they got to Harborview before the police did.

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