Written in 60 minutes.

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Friday, September 27, 2024

Bobbie’s Diner: Kitchen

Danny set the plastic tub of dishes on the counter with a grunt, and made a face at Carly standing by the walk-in freezer, making notes on a clipboard. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do? This is disgusting.”

“Everyone starts as a bus boy,” Carly said not even lifting her eyes. “Even Joss.”

“Ugh.” Danny unloaded the dishes into the dishwasher, then rinsed the rub. “Don’t you, like, own a huge hotel? You don’t have to baby sit me here.”

“I had to run inventory anyway, and, from what I’ve heard—” Carly finally looked at him, smirked. “You could use some supervision. I told your dad I’d keep you out of trouble and I owe him more than I ever repay, so—”

“He was gone two years because of you,” Danny interrupted flatly, and Carly closed her mouth. “You’re the reason the FBI forced him into that deal. My mom told me.”

Carly didn’t respond right away, and Danny shifted his weight slightly. He hadn’t meant to say anything — hadn’t really known he was going to bring it up at all. But it was out of his mouth now, and in the world, so there really wasn’t anything he could do about it.

She laid the clipboard down on the shelf, carefully capping the pen she’d used, then looked at him, her eyes calm and steady. “There’s truth in that statement. I made a mistake, and the FBI used that as leverage against your father. I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t know he had done it. Like you, Danny, I thought Jason was dead, too. And when I found out what he’d done, I was furious. He had no right to do that to all of us. Did your mother tell you that part? That she was the one to tell me?”

Danny pressed his lips together, dropped his eyes. “No,” he muttered.

“No, because that doesn’t serve her narrative. You should know that by now. Sam never tells the full story. Not when it does serve the one she made up in her head.” Carly tipped her head. “Your father and I have known each other for a long time, and he’s always been someone I can to turn to. Someone I can depend on, almost without question. Even when I’ve done something that might be unforgivable, Jason never turned his back on me. It’s a gift to have someone like that in your life. But it’s also a responsibility to have someone who loves you like that. I didn’t respect it. And I abused it. And somewhere along the line, Jason decided it was his job—his responsibility to save me. To save my kids. He shouldn’t have taken the deal, Danny. He knows that.”

She waited, and when Danny said nothing, she continued. “But he would have done it for anyone he loved it. He put himself on the line over and over again for the people around him. For me, for Sonny, our children. For your mother. For Elizabeth. And all of us abused that relationship at some point.” Carly sighed. “I can’t go back and be a better friend to your dad, Danny. I wish I could. But all I can do is be one today. He asked me to keep an eye on you, and that’s what I’m going to do. Table 3 needs to be cleared.”

Highway 481

There was nothing but road stretched ahead of them, trees bordering the two lane highway, with a patch of grass separating the north and south routes. It was now the third time Elizabeth had taken this drive towards Syracuse — and one she would need to repeat every Friday until this nightmare was over.

“I’m trying not to think about what they find at the Quartermaines,” Elizabeth said, breaking the silence she and Jason had fallen into when they’d left the city limits of Port Charles. “Diane doesn’t think we have to worry about Tuesday, but—” She sighed, looked back out the window. “It’s hard not to.”

“If Diane thought there was a real risk they’d move to vacate your bail—” Jason’s fingers tightened reflexively on the wheel. “She’d tell us.”

“Would she? She’s spent all this time telling us both not to think about this. To let her and Spinelli work, and I’m trying. I am. But—”

“You’re not a flight risk. The same reasons they gave you bail still stand. And Diane said — they wanted you out here so they could get at me—”

“But they’re not getting anything from you,” Elizabeth interrupted, and he sighed. “That only works if there’s something to know. We know nothing. I don’t even know where Spinelli is getting his information.  Or if he knows everything. What if they found something else-”

“What else can they find? You didn’t do it.”

“That doesn’t seem to make a difference so far. All the evidence points right at me,” Elizabeth retorted. “I’m even the height of the shooter—”

“You have an alibi.”

Elizabeth let her head fall back against the seat, and closed her eyes. “People with alibis get convicted all the time. I just…I’m sorry. Ever since we talked to Spinelli, I feel like this—” Her throat felt tight, and she had to force the words. “I feel like there’s this weight on me, like I’m choking, and if I have to back to that jail—I can’t decide if the isolation is better or worse than being with everyone else.”

Jason didn’t respond, but she felt the SUV pick up speed, and she looked over, saw the tension in his expression. “I’m sorry. This is the worst time to have this conversation. I shouldn’t have said anything—”

“No, it’s—” Jason glanced at her quickly before focusing back on the road. “You get to feel however you feel. I’m not telling you how to feel. I just—you’re right. Reynolds put you into federal custody to put pressure on me and the boys, thinking that would make you flip. And they’re not getting what they want having me under surveillance. I’m not working for Sonny, so I can’t offer them anything.”

“They might think it’s worth going back to their first plan. Making me so miserable that I’ll turn state’s witness.” Elizabeth dragged a hand through her hair. “I know trusting Diane is the right thing to do. But I hate not being able to do anything to get myself out of this. And I know this is probably driving you insane, too.” A smile flitted on her face as she studied his profile. “You’re probably itching for someone to punch.”

But Jason didn’t seem to be in the mood to be teased. “I’m going to find a way to make all of this go away, I promise.”

She didn’t have the heart to remind him that it wasn’t something he could control. So she settled for reaching over, laying a hand over one of his on the steering wheel. He released the wheel, brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed the inside of her palm.

“In a few hours, we’ll be done in Syracuse and picking Cam up at the airport,” he reminded her. “And we can go back to ignoring all of this.”

“Sounds like a great plan.”

Penthouse: Living Room

“Hey, stranger,” Molly greeted, breezing past her sister to drop a brown paper bag on the coffee table. “I brought some lunch.”

Sam closed the door and tried to smile. “Found some time in your busy schedule? Aren’t you supposed to be fighting the U.S. government?”

Molly looked down, then sighed. “Well, not anymore. I…recused myself from the case.”

Sam frowned, tilted her head. “What? Why?” Then she grimaced. “Because of me, right? What happened last week? The same reason Dante pulled out.”

“Partly,” Molly said. She folded her arms. “Honestly, none of us were really the best choices to take on this case. We’re all related to the witnesses in the case, and no matter how hard we tried to keep it clean, it was always an issue. But no one was willing to fight—now Robert’s ready to step up, and Chase has the most distance.”

“I guess. It’s not like you to walk away from a fight,” Sam said, sitting on the sofa and reaching for the bag.

“It’s more important that justice gets done than for me to be the one to do it. I trust Robert.” Molly sat next to her sister. “And I feel awful that I haven’t been here for you.”

“Not much you could have done,” Sam said, peeling off the lid from her salad. “Wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Maybe. But I just—I’ve been avoiding being anywhere Kristina is, and she’s been..glued to your side for the last week.” Molly avoided Sam’s gaze, busied herself with ripping a corner from the packet of salad dressing and drizzling it over her own salad. “Mom promised to keep Kristina occupied today.”

“Mol, you know…you know I’m not taking sides by spending time with Kristina,” Sam told her sister. “It’s not like that—”

“I know. And I really don’t want to talk about any of that—”

“We won’t. I just—” Sam sighed. “I’ve been really selfish. More than I normally am,” she added and Molly smiled faintly. “I know you feel like Mom and I have been more on Kristina’s side with all of us, and I can’t speak for Mom, but I promise you I’m not. I don’t like how she’s handled any of this. But she was…scaring me for a while,” Sam admitted. “And I guess I was worried she’d fall back into some old habits. You know?”

“Trusting the wrong people, getting herself into trouble, I know. The last time she was like this, she hooked up with a cult leader,” Molly replied. “And none of us really pushed to stop that until it was too late. I get it, you and Mom are trying to keep her from going off the rails again. I understand, Sam—”

“That doesn’t make any of this fair to you. At all. I shouldn’t expect you to sit around and be rational because Kristina can’t be.” Sam laid a hand on her sister’s forearm. “I’ve been where you both are. Losing a child you desperately wanted just before they come into the world. Never getting to hold them, to feel the heartbeat—” She stopped, and now Molly reached for her sister’s hand, squeezed it. “Wondering what could have been, wishing it could be different, trying to find someone to blame, it can drive you insane, Mols. And it never goes away. Never. You cling too hard to the people around you, desperate to keep them loving you, destroying yourself, hurting people.”

Molly looked down, but not before Sam caught the sheen of tears in her sister’s eyes. “And you never get over it, not really. You put it in a box, and you try not to think about it. But it comes back. I got to be a mother, you know. I got my miracle babies, and I clung too hard.  I was so desperate to keep Danny and Scout with me that I—” She swallowed hard. “That I went a little crazy. And every time someone or something threatens to take them away, I lose it.”

“Mom’s going to get them back, Sam. You and Mom are going to do what the court told you, and it’s going to be okay—”

“Custody, sure. I’ll get it back. But I can’t fix what I’ve already done. How I’ve already hurt my son.” Sam swiped at her cheek. “But I’m watching you and Kristina deal with the same horror I went through all those years ago, and I hate that I can’t fix it. I can’t make Kristina look past her own pain, or find a way to make you feel safe enough to trust me with yours. Because you won’t. I know it.”

“Sam—”

“And you’re not even wrong to feel that way. Because over and over again, Mom and I put Kristina first. Or Mom’s put me first. So you taught yourself not to need any of us. I’m sorry, Mols. I  can’t—” Sam’s smile was wobbly. “I can’t fix that. I can’t really do anything to help anyone.”

“There’s nothing that can fix this, Sam. I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about Kristina anymore, please. Can we just—can we eat lunch and just not talk about any of it?”

Bobbie’s Diner: Dining Room

By the afternoon, Danny was miserable. His arms were aching, his feet were burning, and he’d loaded and unloaded the dishwasher so many times he wanted to rip out the cords.

So when Joss and Trina came in after their classes, with laughter and happiness, Danny wanted to throw plates at them.

“Ah, the rite of passage here at Bobbie’s,” Joss said with a bright smile, coming around the counter to pour herself and Trina glasses of soda. “I don’t miss that at all—”

“I hate you,” Danny muttered, picking up another empty tub and heading towards the tables to clear the last of the after school rush.

Trina twisted on the stool as he came around the counter. “Hey, did you talk to Cam about tomorrow yet?”

Danny frowned, one hand lifting a plate in the air. “What?”

“Cam. He’s coming home this weekend,” Trina reminded him. “And he called me.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “It just so happens I snagged myself a babysitting gig tomorrow, so maybe I’ll see you around the estate.”

Port Charles Airport: Entrance Hall

Elizabeth held Cameron in a tight hug a moment longer than normal, letting herself remember when he’d been small enough to lift in her arms and cuddle against her. When had he grown so tall and strong? When had her little boy with the messy curls and sticky fingers become a man?

Cameron kissed the side of her head as she finally released him, then extended a hand to Jason to shake. “My brothers get into any more trouble this week?” he asked Mom. “Other than Jake and Danny getting themselves kicked out of school. Do I have to smack them around?”

“No, none that I know about anyway.” Elizabeth wound her arms through his. “But you know your brothers. There’s still time.”

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