Previously…
– Diane became even more suspicious when her father became ill while visiting her at the radio station.
– Brent filled in Rosie on the lack of movement in the investigation into her drug dealer ex-boyfriend. Rosie reviewed the files and thought she spotted something that warranted further action.
– Natalie stopped by the ice arena in terms of mending fences with Bree, but Jason interrupted and blasted her.
Jason Fisher moves as quickly as he can up the stairs that lead to the second story of Edge of Winter Arena. He pauses on the landing, knowing that as soon as he enters the office, he will have to face Tempest Banks. From his perch, he watches his ex-fiancée round the far end of the ice rink and storm out of the arena — but not before throwing one last angry glare over her shoulder.
Thinking of Natalie as his ex-fiancée still seems surreal to Jason. She was supposed to be his wife by now. He already considered her his family. And now she has just become someone that he was once close with. It doesn’t even make sense.
He steels himself with a deep breath and walks into the office. Tempest glances up from her computer, at first simply to confirm that it is him, but her gaze barely makes it back to the screen before her head snaps upward again.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
Jason shakes his head and returns to his desk.
“Don’t you try that on me.” She pushes her chair out. “You look like you got hit by a bus between when you walked out of here and now.”
“Close enough. Natalie showed up.”
Tempest springs out of her chair. “Where is she? What’s she doing?”
“She left,” he says as he takes his own seat, “but thanks. She came to talk to Bree.”
“She needs to leave that girl alone, after what she did.”
“That’s what I told her. I just…” He rubs his forehead with the base of his palm. “Even seeing her was like ripping the wound open all over again. And it wasn’t exactly healed.”
“No kidding. Not like it’s been that long.”
“It’s hard to believe she’s the same woman I almost married,” he says. “Even after I found out Peter isn’t mine, I still almost went through with it.”
“That’s ‘cuz she’s a damn good liar.”
His voice takes on a distant quality as he continues, “I keep thinking about little moments, everyday things, and replaying them and trying to find some clue, some hint that she was lying to my face.”
Tempest hesitates, for once at a loss for words.
“That’s what liars do,” she finally says. “They lie and they trick you. It’s not your fault you believed her.”
“It’s all such a damn mess,” Jason says sadly. “And I miss Peter.”
“Of course you do. He’s your kid. He has been since the day he was born.”
“Except he isn’t. And it’s not like I want to keep Spencer from his own son–”
“You’d be doing the kid a favor if you did. With parents like that… whoo. Any judge in his right mind would hand that boy over to you in a second.”
“I’d like to think so, but I’m not so sure it’ll be that simple. Or if I even should.”
“You should.” Tempest folds her arms and levels a meaningful stare at him. “Sometimes the best person to raise a kid isn’t that kid’s actual parents. I know that better than just about anyone.”
“I guess you do,” Jason admits, but the piercing anguish inside his chest doesn’t make it any easier to decide what he should do.
—–
Diane Bishop hovers at the bar of the King’s Bay Metropolitan Inn. Although she has ordered a salad and a cup of coffee, she merely grazes on both; her attention is elsewhere, and her body is halfway off the tufted pub chair at all times. She spends over half-an-hour waiting, and just as she is beginning to wonder if she has missed something — given the tricky angle from which she has been watching the lobby — she finally sees her target passing through the posh entry area of the hotel and out the front door. Diane waits only long enough to slide her dish and cup back across the bar and then bolts for the elevator bay.
She rides upward through the hotel, growing irritated by the various stops along the way. Who gets in an elevator to go up from one floor of a hotel to another? she wonders with annoyance as several people get into the car.
On the 12th floor, she steps out, takes a moment to orient herself, and makes a right turn down the corridor. She lifts a tightly coiled fist to the door and knocks authoritatively.
The shuffling inside gives way to an open door.
“Diane,” her father says with surprise. “What brings you by?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Henry Bishop regards her with confusion and a furrowed brow. Diane studies him, once again noting the greenish-gray color of his face and neck.
“Your mother just stepped out,” he says.
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“What is this about?”
“Let me in.”
She stands there, intending to grind him down by sheer will, and after several seconds, Henry steps aside and admits her to the suite. Diane steps inside and immediately catches the expansive view of downtown King’s Bay and the water beyond it, all glistening beneath the light of what could be one of the last gorgeous days of the year.
“Did something else happen with your sister?” Henry asks as he closes the door.
“No,” Diane says. “Well, probably. But not that I know of.”
“Diane, you know I’m always thrilled to see you, but this doesn’t strike me as a purely social visit–”
“It isn’t. Dad, I want answers.”
His mouth flaps open and closed in what reads to Diane as feigned bewilderment.
“I know that you got sick when you and Mom were at the station,” she says. “And I saw you at the wedding. What’s really going on?”
“I told you, I must have eaten something bad.”
“I’d buy that once, but more than that? No. You look like hell now, too.”
“How kind of you to say.”
“I’m serious,” Diane says, folding her arms across her body. “Something is going on, and you’re going to tell me what it is, or I’ll call Mom and Natalie over here so you can fill them in, too.”
—–
As Rosie Jimenez stands in the hallway of the apartment building, she feels as though every muscle fiber in her body has tensed up. She cannot understand how she can be excited about something and dreading it in equal measures. She has known, ever since she picked up her phone and sent the message, that this would be an intense moment, but she was unable to forecast just how overwhelming it would be.
Fighting the urge to flee, for both professional and personal reasons, she raises her hand and knocks. A few seconds later, the apartment door opens. It has been months since she thought about the way that it creaks until it is at least three-quarters of the way open, yet when she hears the noise, it is so familiar that it pains her.
Looking into Travis Fisher’s face is the same way.
“Hey,” he says stiffly as he stands in the doorway of his apartment, dressed in jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt.
“Hi.” Rosie offers the most neutral sort of friendly smile she can muster, difficult as that is with the emotions washing over her. “Thank you for letting me come by. I didn’t want to do this over the phone or by text, just in case.”
His eyes narrow, and Rosie takes in those same faint lines in his skin that she once spent so much time studying.
“Yeah, it sounded serious,” Travis says as he moves out of the way to let her in.
Rosie steps inside his apartment and looks around. She isn’t searching for anything in particular, but she feels an urgent need to take in the scene, to get the lay of the land. She notes the pillows and blanket folded and stacked at one end of the couch, as well as the rolling suitcase tucked into the corner.
“Tori’s still staying with you guys?” she asks.
“Yeah, she’s still figuring out her next move,” Travis says as he locks the door. “It’s cool to have her around, though. And I don’t think Landon minds much, either.”
She gives a knowing grin. “I’m sure.”
An uneasy silence falls over them, like a net suddenly tossed to trap them. They stare at one another, and Rosie wonders if Travis has been transported, just like she has, to a time when things between them were so easy and warm.
“Anyway,” she says, as a means of breaking the spell, “I need to ask you something. It’s kind of sensitive.”
“That’s how it sounded. Should I be worried?”
“No, but I need you to promise me something — and I know I haven’t really earned that, but this isn’t just about me.”
Travis looks at her warily as he answers, “Okay…”
“Promise me that you won’t repeat this to anyone. Not Landon, not Tori, not anyone at work,” Rosie says. “A lot of people’s safety depends on it.”
“I can keep my mouth shut if it’s that important,” he says, “but you’re freaking me out. What the hell is going on?”
—–
Diane taps the toe of her designer stiletto against the soft carpet of the hotel suite.
“I know something is going on,” she says, casting an unblinking stare at her father. “Come on.”
Henry maintains his rigid defiance for another lengthy moment, but then it all seeps out of him, like a pool float deflated in a sudden rush. His posture softens, and his shoulders crumple. Once again, Diane sees not the stately man she has known her entire life, but a frail old man being overrun by something much greater than him. Her nerves prickle with sympathy.
“You’ve always been too smart for your own good,” he says as he pulls a chair away from the wooden writing desk and sits down.
Hardly able to believe this visible change in him, she looks him over some more.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
Henry sucks in a deep breath. Even that sounds strained, as if he is desperate to take in any bit of air that he can manage, like it all might go away at any moment.
“You cannot say anything to your mother or your sister,” he says. “Or to Samantha or Bree. I don’t want them knowing. I didn’t want any of you knowing.”
“Knowing what?”
He sweeps a hand from his head down to his knees and then stares down at the pattern on the carpet.
“It’s pancreatic cancer,” he says, the defeat in his voice so evident. “Stage 4. They didn’t catch it — I didn’t catch it — until it was too late.”
“Too late? You’re here. You’re functioning. That means–”
“It means nothing. I’ve explored options with my doctor. Chemotherapy would only buy me a matter of months.”
“Those are months you’d be alive, with your family! And who knows what could happen in that time?”
He shakes his head insistently, as though warding off words and thoughts that he simply cannot entertain. “Nothing will happen. Nothing good. It would only prolong this and pull everyone else into it. I don’t want that for– for any of you.”
“This is your life,” Diane says. “You have grandchildren. Your family deserves to have a chance to say goodbye.”
“You’ll all be able to say goodbye when the time comes,” Henry says. “Whether that happens in two months or eight months, I’m not simply going to disappear in a puff of smoke.”
She stares at him, noting the steely reserve in his eyes. In spite of his diminished physical appearance, those eyes are the same as they have always been: sharp, commanding respect, instantly authoritative.
“I do not want anyone else knowing,” he says firmly. “I’ve chosen to do this on my terms, and this is my final request to you, as my oldest: please keep this between us.”
—–
Jason finds himself at loose ends when he attempts to sit down and focus on work, so he decides to go outside for some fresh air. He walks a lap around the exterior of the arena, during which he does his best to take calming breaths through his nose. Soon he winds up back at the front of the building, but he pauses before going back inside.
“Everything okay out here?” Sabrina Gage asks as she emerges from Thaw Coffee & Tea in her ice-blue apron over black shirt and pants.
“Oh. Hey,” Jason says with a weak attempt at a wave. “Yeah, just… thinking.”
“I was just about to take my break when I saw you out here,” she explains. “Do you want to talk?”
He hesitates in responding.
“Or not talk,” Sabrina adds hastily. “I haven’t wanted to bother you, but I hope you know I’m always available if you need someone to talk to.”
He can’t help but offer her a warm smile, despite the storm raging within him. “Thanks. I appreciate that. It still doesn’t seem entirely real, you know?”
“I bet. I’m really sorry you have to go through this.”
Jason lets out a sigh. “I keep replaying things in my mind, little moments, random things — like I’m going to find some clue that should’ve tipped me off.”
“It isn’t your fault that this happened. You trusted Natalie. That’s the point of being in love with someone. You place trust in them.”
“Or you just blind yourself. Maybe I didn’t want to see it.”
“That’s possible,” Sabrina says. “You want what everyone wants: to be happy, to have a family. You had no reason to look for signs that something wasn’t what it seemed.”
“I feel like an idiot,” he says, the volume of his voice spiking abruptly. “How could I not have known what was going on in my own relationship? In my own house! Even Helen knew. Helen!”
Sabrina nearly chokes on the air in her windpipe.
Luckily, Jason is too caught up in his rant to notice. “God knows that woman has tested my sanity more than a few times, but the fact that she figured this whole thing out and then chose my wedding as the time to blurt it out…”
“Well, it sounded like she didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” Sabrina says, “but once the cat was half out of the bag anyway…”
Jason turns sharply toward her. “Don’t.”
The force of his tone almost causes Sabrina to jump out of her skin.
Seeing her reaction, Jason adds, “I know you like to see the best in people, but don’t give her too much credit. She was thrilled she had the chance to humiliate Natalie — and she didn’t care if I got hurt in the process. The fact that she went behind my back and had the DNA test done instead of coming to me in the first place…”
Sabrina’s first instinct is to defend Helen’s reasoning, but she stops herself. Her cheeks go warm with shame as she thinks about her own role in the covert paternity test.
“You have every right to be upset,” she says. “I hope this gets easier for you. I can only imagine how hard it is right now.”
“It’s crazy,” Jason says. “If it were just getting my heart broken, that’d be one thing. It sucks, but I’ve been through worse, and I survived.”
“Because you’re a strong person.”
“I didn’t have a choice. I had to, for Sophie. But this isn’t just a breakup — it’s like I’ve lost a child. I have lost a child.”
Sabrina’s only response is a sorrowful nod.
“I would never want to keep Peter from Spencer, or vice-versa,” he continues, “but at the same time… I don’t know that I can say goodbye to my son, either.”
“I completely understand.”
He exhales loudly and gazes out at the cars filling the parking lot. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. But thank you for listening. You’re a true friend, Sabrina.”
The fresh rush of blood stings her cheeks all over again.
“It’s the least I can do,” she says weakly.
—–
As she attempts to choose her words, Rosie is stricken by the utter irony of this situation: here she is, asking Travis if she can trust him, even though she is the one who has given him ample reason not to trust her. Still, this goes beyond her, beyond them.
“Does your restaurant ever donate leftover food?” she asks. “Leftovers, scraps, whatever.”
Travis screws up his face. “I think so. Yeah. I know there’s something a few nights a week…”
“Okay,” Rosie says. “Do you know where it gets sent?”
“Umm… There’s a, like, soup kitchen downtown. I don’t know the name, but–”
“That’s fine.”
His eyes widen. “Jesse usually does the drop-offs. Pretty much any time he’s on closing. Is this about…?”
She finds herself nodding. “Travis, please, you can’t say anything. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but I was worried that if I called the soup kitchen directly, someone might…”
“You think the restaurant’s involved in the– whatever drug thing is going on?”
“I have no idea,” she says. “I’m trying to follow anything that looks like a lead.”
“Wow.” He takes a moment before asking, “They’re having you work the case?”
Rosie shakes her head. “Your uncle let me look over the files because they aren’t getting anywhere. I’m just trying to find something, and Jesse’s life sounds super routine. I shouldn’t really talk about this, though.”
“I get it,” Travis says as he holds up a hand.
“Thanks for making time. Seriously. I’ll let you get back to your day.”
She moves for the door.
“Rosie,” he says. “I’ll keep this to myself. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks.” She places her hand on the lock but hesitates in flipping it open. “Things are good with you?”
She sees his Adam’s apple bulge as he contemplates his response.
“Can’t really complain,” he finally says.
“Good. You deserve all the best. I hope you know how much I regret dragging you and your grandma into my mess. If I could do it all over…”
“I know you never thought things would go down the way they did.”
“Not at all.” She feels herself choking up and quickly unlocks the door. “I need to get to the station.”
“Rosie,” he says.
“Thanks again for your help,” she quickly tells him before hurrying out of the apartment.
Only once she is in the elevator does she begin to catch her breath. She underestimated how hard it would be to see him and what this would feel like, knowing that she wrecked what they were building by lying to him for so long.
Inside the apartment, Travis moves to lock the door again, but his hand lingers on the knob. Tempted though he is to follow after her, he doesn’t even know where he would begin, and he doesn’t know what has changed since the truth about her past came out.
He stops himself from chasing after her and instead hopes that this new information will be enough to help her save her job and begin to make up for the mistakes in her past.
—–
A sudden swell of emotion breaks over Diane’s head and douses her, like a summertime cloud opening up to drench the scorched brown grass. Her father looks so small sitting in the chair. She has never thought of him that way. He has never been physically imposing and has remained trim past middle age, but his demeanor has always made him seem larger, more substantial, as if it is the universe’s mandate that he be respected and obeyed. But not now. Not like this.
“I am so sorry,” she says, stunned by just how greatly this news has rocked her. “Who else knows?”
“No one besides my doctors. And that’s how I intend to keep it. I don’t know why I even told you.”
“Because you know how I am when I set my mind to something.”
His chin dips in a nod of agreement. “That’s true. But Diane, I beg of you: I do not want the rest of the family to know until it’s time.”
She is not ready to sign off on that. Arms still folded, she thinks for another long moment before asking, “How has Mom not figured it out? I know she’s always been self-absorbed, but you look…”
“Dreadful. I know. I’ve taken great pains to make sure she doesn’t see too much. Frankly, I think she’s all too willing to believe everything is fine because it keeps her world in order. Ignorance is bliss.”
“Until it can’t be ignored any longer.”
He gazes past her, out the large window into the bright Northwest day. “When that time comes, I’ll tell everyone, and we’ll proceed accordingly.”
“‘Proceed accordingly?’ Dad, this is your life, not the stock market.”
“But I don’t have control of either,” he says, “no matter how much I might have liked to fool myself over the years.”
They both fall quiet, but it is the kind of silence that balloons to fill the room, pressing against the window and the walls and both of them.
“These are my wishes,” Henry says at last, “and all I ask is that you respect them — the same way that I would respect yours.”
She swallows the heavy lump in her throat. “Dad…”
“Treatments are only going to prolong this. I don’t want to feel that way. I don’t want all of you to remember me as this decaying shell of my former self.”
Diane doesn’t know what to say in response. Instead she feels herself moving toward him and stooping down to wrap her arms over his shoulders.
“I am so sorry,” she says, as she realizes that she cannot even remember the last time she shared an embrace like this with her own father. They stay like that, neither speaking as this new secret weaves a spell of understanding over and around them.
END OF EPISODE 942
Should Diane keep her father’s secret?
Are Travis and Rosie simply being stubborn?
What should Jason’s next move be?
Talk about it all in the comments below!
Well shit. I knew Henry was dying or had an illness but this still seemed like a sucker punch. And poor Diane, now she’s left with this burden. I just know Claudia & Natalie will lose their minds when they find out she knew in advance, but it is Henry’s choice how he wants to die. Compelling family drama.
Sabrina seems innocent enough but she’s always in the right place when it comes to Jason. She’s not exactly being subtle in her intentions. At least Jason is still so consumed with Peter and Nat that he doesn’t see it.
Oh Rosie. I know she meant well but I suspect this will put Travis in danger. Logically, I should hate her for this. Wanting more drama, I love it.
Great read!
D
Thanks for taking the time to leave comments, Dallas!
It was definitely predictable that something serious was up with Henry, but it was important to me to have ‘us’ find out along with Diane. This’ll be an interesting sort of family drama because there really is no right or wrong way to handle it — it’s a personal decision for Henry, and his family has to deal with that. Lots of possible pain. I’ve been waiting to get to this turn for a while!
Sabrina really doesn’t know how to handle situations like this, what with her lack of experience, so yeah, if Jason weren’t so distracted, he’d most likely notice. As it is, she’s now (sort of accidentally) keeping a big secret from him about her involvement in all this. There’s always more drama lurking around the corner! 😉
Rosie is pretty much in over her head. She definitely has an impulsive streak not unlike Sarah’s, actually. We’ll see if this helps or hurts her and the case, though…
Thanks again!
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