EPISODE SIXTEEN
Written By Aaron D. Mullins
|
Previously On Autumn Lake:
SCENE ONE – DRUMMOND ENTERPRISES - BOARDROOM “And that brings to a close today’s session.” Olivia Marshak smiled at the assembled group and closed the leather binder that lay before her. “I’d like to thank all of you for taking time from your busy schedules to attend this morning. I think we managed to get quite a bit accomplished.” Assorted nods and quiet agreements followed as the board began rising from their seats. “Before we depart,” she said, slightly louder, causing everyone to stop moving. “I’m sorry, one last thing. I just wanted to take this opportunity to publicly thank George Hearn for his years of devotion and commitment to Drummond Enterprises. I’m sure we all wish him the best as he prepares to retire as President of DE.” The room broke into polite applause as George, a white-haired man in his sixties, smiled modestly. “Thank you, Olivia. It’s been an honor and a privilege to serve the board and work with you and your father.” Another polite round of applause. As the group began to disperse, George joined Olivia at the head of the table. “That was very kind of you. I appreciate the acknowledgment.” “Of course.” Her response was cordial, but distant. She and George had never been friendly; he represented the ‘old school’ way of thinking that was more in line with the way her father ran the company. They’d butted heads a number of times since J.D.’s retirement, and she was sure that was at least partially the reason behind George’s own decision to leave the company. “If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss something with you.” “Absolutely,” she said. “Can you walk with me?” He nodded and followed in step beside her as they made their way to the elevator. “As you know, I’ve spent some time with Claudia Lucchese, Martin Grayne and Paul Fitzpatrick.” Olivia nodded; she was well aware that all three of the individuals he’d named were jockeying to replace George as President. “Yes, I recall you mentioning them in your formal notice.” “Right. I think you, and the board, would agree that any of them would make a strong President. But, after giving it much thought, I think I’m going to throw my support behind Claudia.” Olivia stopped in her tracks. Never in a million years did she think George Hearn would actually support a female executive. Especially Claudia Lucchese, who’d developed a reputation for being something of a ball-buster. “Really? Well, that’s a surprise.” “I’m not quite the Neanderthal you think that I am, Olivia,” he grumbled. “Claudia’s tough. She’s got what it takes.” “I agree.” “Good, then it’s settled. I’ll send out the email with Claudia as my recommendation with your support…” “Hold it,” Olivia interjected. “I’m sorry, George, but I have someone else in mind.” He raised his eyebrows. “Who? Paul? Martin?” “Neither.” She kept her steely gaze fixed on his, preparing for his reaction. “I’m going to recommend Jason as your successor.” “Jason...” He seemed confused for a second, but suddenly his eyes grew wide with understanding. “You’re not serious? Jason Marshak? Your son?” “That’s right.” “Olivia, I… I just… I can’t…” he stammered. “This is just outrageous. He’s neither qualified nor experienced enough to…” “George, your opinion is noted, but I disagree. I’ll provide you and the rest of the board with a more thorough response later, but as you know, my father was grooming Jason for…” “J.D. Drummond was giving that child a test by granting him authority over the Foundation and you know it! He’d never allow this kind of…” “That’s enough, George,” she said calmly, becoming aware of the attention of other staffers in the hall. “We’ll discuss it at the appropriate time. Now, while I’d appreciate your support in this, I’m perfectly fine with you sending out your recommendation of Claudia. We’ll let the board make the decision.” Without waiting for a response, Olivia turned on her heel and began walking in the opposite direction, leaving an apoplectic George Hearn in her wake. She boarded an elevator at the opposite end of the hall and made her way to the executive offices. She smiled at Molly as she entered her office. “Any calls for me yet today?” “Just one,” Molly said, flipping a page in her message book. “Someone calling themselves ‘Mrs. Mason Vanderdecken’ called to offer her regrets about the party.” “Party?” Olivia blinked. “What party?” “The masked ball, I presume,” Molly said. The masked ball! It had completely slipped her mind. Every year, for their anniversary, Randy and Olivia hosted a gala at the house for their friends and assorted business associates. It had become such a tradition that Olivia had long since handed off the planning and preparations to members of the household staff. “You forgot about the masked ball?” Molly asked in a deadpan voice. “Your anniversary?” Olivia rubbed her eyes. “Guilty as charged. Damn it! Well… thank god for Mrs. Mason Vanderdecken…” “Whoever that is.” “Right, whoever that is. If she hadn’t called, I’d have looked like a complete idiot instead of a partial one.” Olivia smiled at Molly. “At least I can take comfort in the fact that Randy probably forgot, too.” Molly offered a sympathetic smile to her boss. “Things are that bad?” “Nothing that can’t be fixed,” Olivia replied confidently. “All right, then. Let’s make some time later this afternoon to see where things stand with the ball. In the meantime, can you please ask Payton to stop by my office after lunch?” “He’s out today.” “What?” The news caught Olivia by surprise. “What happened?” “I’m not sure. I had to call his assistant earlier to ask her about the Foundry Oil account and she told me he was working remote until tomorrow. Something about a personal day.” “Uh-huh.” Olivia said flatly, entering her office. It wasn’t that she needed an explanation when one of her executives took some time off; it just seemed odd because Payton hadn’t mentioned it to her. She thought they’d gotten… closer. She was finding herself caught off guard a lot with him lately. It wasn’t a position she liked being in, nor was it an emotion she was comfortable with. Olivia settled into her plush leather chair and exhaled deeply, firing up her computer. She tapped a pencil nervously on her blotter, thinking about how much was slipping under the radar lately. Maybe Randy’s right after all, she thought. Maybe I do need to just slow down a bit and catch my breath. “Knock, knock.” She looked up to see Jason and Kyle standing in the doorway. Kyle smiled broadly at his mother as they approached. “Molly said you had a few minutes, so we just thought we’d check in and see how things went at the board meeting this morning.” “Among other things,” Jason added. She rose and embraced her sons. (First Jason, then Kyle, as he was quick to notice.) “The meeting was great; surprisingly drama-free for once.” “Excellent,” Kyle said, clapping his hands together. She could tell he was champing at the bit to participate in board meetings. One day, she thought. “I passed George Hearn a few moments ago,” Jason said, settling into one of the chairs opposite her desk. “He looked… perturbed.” Olivia laughed slightly. “Did he? Well, good.” “May I ask as to why he might look that way?” She gave him a knowing glance and avoided looking at Kyle. “He’s just got a lot on his plate these days, Jason.” “Hmm.” She knew that Jason wanted to open up the presidency debate again, but she wasn’t interested in another boxing match with her sons. “Kyle,” she said, turning her attention to her youngest son, who remained standing. “The board thought your presentation for Hernandez and Bates was very well done. Paul Fitzpatrick commented that it could very well have been the determining factor in getting them to re-sign the contract.” Kyle smiled proudly. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad I could make a difference.” It was nice to see Kyle this way; calm, proud without being boastful, confident. He definitely had leadership potential in the company, but he was still light years from being the kind of leader Jason was. Olivia wished that Kyle would settle down a bit and let time take its natural course. Jason cleared his throat. “Molly tells me you’re preparing for the masked ball? A little late, wouldn’t you say?” Olivia smiled, silently grateful that Molly had left out the part about forgetting the masked ball. “Well, your father and I have been very busy lately, as you know. Me with the company and the McClaine merger and him with…” she tried to come up with an excuse for Randy. “Um… his book?” Jason finished for her. “You know, he did just finish another book.” “Of course I know that,” she snapped, “I was just going to say that.” “Of course you were.” “Well,” she sighed, ignoring his accusatory tone, “fortunately the planning is mostly done. I just need to get a dress and find a nice present for your father.” “Any ideas?” Jason asked, a look of mild bemusement on his face. “Jason, please, you’re like an open book to me. What do you want me to say? Yes, your father and I are a bit… estranged right now, but we’re working on it.” “Really?” “Yes, really, so you can knock it off with the sarcasm.” Kyle watched silently as Jason sighed. “I’m sorry, Mother, you’re right. You know I just want you and Dad to be happy. I don’t want to see this company come between you.” “What makes you think it’s DE?” Kyle interjected. “That would imply that the problems Mother and Dad are having are all Mother’s fault, and I don’t think that’s true. Dad holes up in his office for days on end working on that stupid book. If anything I’d say he’s the one being neglectful.” “Kyle!” Olivia snapped, catching him by surprise. “Please don’t speak ill of your father. He’s a very devoted husband.” “Mother!” Kyle exclaimed. “I was defending you. And still you find fault with me? God, I can’t win with you.” Olivia stood from her seat, taking a deep breath. “Boys… I really don’t want this to turn into another argument. Let’s just try to have a peaceful day, all right? Leave your father and me to ourselves… we’ll work it out, I promise you.” “Fine,” Kyle replied bitterly. “Will Katie be attending?” The question caught Olivia off-guard. She hadn’t even had time to think about that as yet. “I… I don’t know,” she stammered. “To be honest, I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, so…” “A few weeks?” Jason repeated. “And you’re not worried?” “Of course I’m worried, Jason, but you know your sister. She’s been very determined to have this time to herself for whatever reason. She’s also as stubborn as a mule. So I can safely say, if she wants to be here for the ball, she will be. If not, then we won’t see her.” Just then, Kyle’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, looking at the caller ID screen, “I need to take this.” He rushed out of the office, leaving Jason and Olivia sitting in silence. “Well?” Jason said, finally. “Well what?” “He’s gone, you can tell me what the George Hearn thing was all about now.” “It’s exactly what you think it is, Jason. He’s not happy about my recommendation for his replacement.” “Oh for God’s sake, Mother, of course he’s not! Let me guess… he wants Martin Grayne.” “No, Claudia, actually.” “Really?” Jason raised a dubious eyebrow. “That’s… unexpected.” “My thoughts exactly.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m sorry, Jason, I just don’t have time to get into that discussion again.” “Big surprise.” He stood, making his way toward the door. “Honey,” she called out. “What’s wrong with you lately?” He scoffed. “Me? What’s wrong with me?” She crossed the room, a look of true concern on her face. “You haven’t been yourself for some time. All we ever do is argue anymore and I don’t like it. This isn’t all still about that Rebecca girl, is it?” Jason’s eyes bulged in anger. “That Rebecca girl, as you so eloquently put it, was going to be my wife. Can’t you spare an ounce of sympathy for her, after all of this time?” “That’s what it is, isn’t it?” She ignored his question. “It’s the masked ball, isn’t it? This time last year you were so depressed over her death; you wouldn’t even attend the masked ball. It took everything we could muster to get you to leave the penthouse.” “Mother!” he exclaimed. “What did you expect? The woman I loved, the woman I wanted to marry, had just killed herself. She’d just shot herself up with enough heroin to kill four people…” “Jason, please…” “What? What, is that too… graphic for you, Mother? Too distasteful? Well, I’m sorry. I’m the one who found her, lying face down in her own vomit…” “Oh, for God’s sake, that’s enough,” Olivia shouted. “Yes, honey, I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I’m sorry that you had to see that. But most of all, I’m sorry that you ever trusted that piece of gutter trash long enough to…” “How dare you?” His face flushed a deep scarlet and his voice was low and guttural. “Who are you? You weren’t always this cold.” “Jason…” “No. You will never be a part of my personal life, mother. I will never, ever allow you to participate in my private life again. You’ve made it clear that anything you can’t control, approve of or legislate is beneath your contempt.” “That’s not true, I just…” “Goodbye, Mother.” He stormed out of the office, leaving Olivia rubbing her temples. “Damn it,” she mumbled. ********** Kyle watched as Jason rushed past Molly’s desk and allowed himself a moment of pleasure. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kruger, please go on.” He spoke in hushed tones into his cell phone. He listened as the private investigator he had hired to investigate Wendy Harris detailed the information he had managed to dig up. “I’m impressed you were able to get this much info in such a short period of time,” Kyle said. “Yes, I’m sure you are very good at your work. Trust me, my mother wouldn’t have hired you in the past otherwise.” He listened for a few more moments, smiling at a curious Molly and signaling that he would just be a moment longer. “Right, right, well that’s very helpful indeed. Please let me know if you find out anything more. In the meantime, I’ll be sure to wire a little extra to your account later today. Thank you very much, Mr. Kruger.” He snapped the phone closed and allowed a Chester Cheetah sized grin to cross his face. “Well, well, well… and Mother thought Rebecca Faulkner was trouble…”
SCENE TWO – LORD’S CHAPEL – BASEMENT FELLOWSHIP ROOM Ellen Bowman gently tossed out a vinyl table cloth, allowing the air to smoothly guide it toward the folded card table below. Straightening the fabric into place, she nodded at her companion, Delia Grogan, who placed the condiment rack in the center. “There. Perfect.” Ellen gazed around the empty fellowship room and smiled. For the last several years, Lord’s Chapel had hosted an ongoing soup kitchen/homeless shelter to the Autumn Lake community. Whenever her schedule permitted, Ellen had made it a point to volunteer her time (and some special treats from Bowman Appetit, her catering business.) Delia Grogan had been the church facilitator for the last three years. She smiled warmly at Ellen. “You should rest,” she said. “You’ve been running around here since before dawn. The lunch crew will be here soon, so you might as well go into one of the back rooms and take a quick nap.” “Don’t need it,” Ellen said plainly. “Being here, in this place, with these people… it energizes me. I can’t really explain it.” “You don’t have to,” Delia laughed. “Doing the Lord’s work is its own reward.” “Amen.” Ellen untied the apron she was wearing and gently fluffed her hair. “Okay… what’s next?” Delia was about to speak when she noticed someone coming through the door that led to the basement exit. “Well, here’s our first customer… a bit early, but one never knows what the individual needs are until one asks.” Ellen patted her on the arm. “I’ll take care of it.” She approached the man, who was as tall as her late husband, John, and, from a distance appeared to be well-fed. He was dressed in a pair of dungarees and a plaid shirt, his face sporting a five o’clock shadow. “Good morning,” she said, extending her hand to greet him. “Welcome to Lord’s Chapel. I’m Ellen, one of the volunteers. How can I help you?” “A pleasure, ma’am,” he replied, taking her hand. “My name’s Payton and I’m here to help as well.” ********** A short time later, Ellen had gotten Payton situated in the kitchen and had introduced him to Delia and the other volunteers. Now it was just a matter of waiting for their patrons to arrive. That left Ellen with some free time to quiz the handsome stranger. “So I take it from that drawl that you’re not from around here, Payton?” He smiled sheepishly. “Houston, Texas, actually.” “Really! That’s a long way from Autumn Lake.” “Yup.” “So, what brings you here?” “Oh…” he laughed. “Not a very Christian reason, I’m sorry to say.” “Oh my. That sounds intriguing. So, your volunteering here… is that absolution of a sort?” “No,” he replied quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that. No, one thing has nothing to do with the other. I was very active in volunteer work back home, and since I’ve been in town I’ve been looking for something else to get involved with.” “Well, the shelter’s a great place to start. Fortunately, Autumn Lake is blessed; we don’t have nearly as many homeless or destitute here as in some of the larger cities, but that doesn’t mean there’s still not folks that need help.” Ellen noticed Payton’s eyes grow dark for a moment. “I just hope that we can help.” She softly touched his hand. “We do, honey, we do.” He nodded curtly and averted his gaze. Ellen sensed there was more to this troubled young man than met the eye. “May I ask you a question?” she asked after a few moments of silence. “Certainly.” “Is there something… or someone… that’s made you want so badly to help others? If I’m prying, please tell me…” “No, no, not at all.” His eyes glistened slightly. “It’s my sister. Her name was Annie. Annie Rose.” “That’s beautiful.” “Yes, and so was she. She meant the world to me.” “Meant…” she repeated softly. “She’s… gone now?” “Yes, she died a short time ago.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” “Yes. Me too,” he said, a darker edge to his tone. She saw that his eyes had grown dark again. “She didn’t have to die. She was too young. If it weren’t for the involvement of people who took advantage of her and made her…” his voice trailed off again. “I’m sorry,” he said, regaining his composure. “Sometimes it’s just hard to think about.” “I understand,” Ellen said. “I’ve lost many loved ones in my life as well. It hurts.” Payton exhaled deeply, trying to smile. “She lived on the streets for a long time,” he said. “It was places like this, people like you, that kept her alive for as long as she was. She was… troubled. She came to places like this shelter to get help, some food, stay warm… so I feel like I’m keeping her memory alive by doing the same for others.” “You’re a good man, Payton,” Ellen said quietly. “It’s a privilege to know you.” “Thank you,” he said, a single tear escaping. He quickly brushed it away. “That means a lot, thank you.” Just then, Delia appeared in the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag. “Well, now… is everyone ready?” “You got it!” Ellen shouted excitedly. “Good, then let’s get started.” Delia led the volunteers into the fellowship room, each carrying a dish or platter. Payton hung toward the back of the crowd for a moment, clearing his throat and regaining his bearings. Taking a deep breath, he reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a tattered letter that Annie Rose had sent to him over a year ago. The postmark on the envelope was “Autumn Lake.” He smiled as he looked at her penmanship, so strong and straight, a clear indicator that she’d gotten better. His eyes focused on the final paragraph of the letter… ...but it's all better now... so much so that I'm starting all over again... someone new... someone without all the ghosts and regrets of Annie Rose McClaine. I'm taking Mom's middle name and maiden name. From now on, I'll be Rebecca Faulkner He closed his eyes and remembered the day he’d received the news that his beloved little sister had died. It was almost two months too late. She’d done such a good job of reinventing herself as Rebecca Faulkner that he had to read about it in one of the few gossip rags that Olivia Marshak had managed not to pay off. Damn the Drummonds, he thought bitterly. It was no wonder Olivia wanted the story kept out of the papers. Oh, there was far more to Annie Rose’s death than just being some random druggie who overdosed in the penthouse. No, their involvement in the destruction of Annie Rose McClaine went far beyond that. And it was just a matter of time before they all paid for it.
Karen quietly cracked open the door to Will’s study and gazed inside. The room was dark; the curtains were still drawn and the only noise was the quiet hum of Will’s computer. She saw that he was still sleeping on the settee, an old quilt made by Granny Bowman wrapped around his still form. She approached him carefully and gently touched his shoulder. “Will?” “I’m awake,” he said, in a surprisingly clear voice. “What time is it?” “Almost noon. I was getting worried. At first I thought you hadn’t come home, but I came down around three this morning and saw you sleeping here. Honey… what is it? What’s wrong?” “I just can’t talk about it right now, Karen.” A cold chill crawled up her spine. Something had changed; he was back to being the sullen, uncommunicative man he’d been weeks ago. She sat on the edge of the settee and gently rubbed his back. “Please, honey, tell me what it is. Is it something about work? Today’s your day off. It’s rare we get a day off together, we should do something.” “Not today, Karen.” “Will?” she was trying to get him to make eye contact with her so she could read him, but he kept his face pressed against the pillow and obscured in shadows. “Honey, please…” “Karen… not now.” Taking the hint, Karen stood, almost losing her balance from her ever-increasing belly bloat, and hobbled back to the doorway. “All right. I’ll give you your space. But, please, honey… open up to me when you can.” Getting no response, she quietly closed the door behind her. As the door clicked closed, she felt her heart begin to race. Her mind began running through all the scenarios. Why would he be like this? What happened? Wasn’t it just last week he was telling me how much he loved me and wanted to make things work? What could have… Suddenly, her eyes opened wide. Of course. Diana! Karen turned and raced back upstairs to their bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she picked up the phone by their bed and quickly dialed a number. After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. “Rossie, thank God!” “Karen?” Ross replied. “What is it? Is something wrong with the baby?” “No, no, nothing like that,” she said, rubbing her belly. “Ross, you have to tell me… he saw her, didn’t he?” “Who saw what?” “Rossie!” “What? Oh, wait… you mean Mom and Dad, right?” She clucked her tongue. “What the hell do you think?” He chuckled. “Well, yeah, I hate to tell you, but the cat’s out of the bag. He knows she’s back in Autumn Lake.” “Ross Bowman, you bastard! Why didn’t you tell me!” “Hey!” he said, still chuckling, “don’t be so mean. It just happened. Nicky was hit by a car and everyone was at the hospital and…” “Nicky was hit by a car!” Karen gasped. She didn’t know Diana’s niece all that well, but she knew she had a little boy and wouldn’t wish something like that on anyone. “Oh my God, is he…” “He’s fine, relax.” “When did all of this happen?” “Yesterday. Where were you?” “God, where wasn’t I yesterday? Doing rounds, Lamaze class, grocery shopping, laundry…” “Well, there you go. Dad saw Mom at the hospital, they talked for a while, and that was that. The sky didn’t fall, after all.” “Don’t be so flip!” she said, irritated. “And don’t be so sure… you’re father’s been in a state ever since he came home from work last night.” She could hear him sigh. “Karen. Relax. Yesterday was a tough day. And, yeah, you’re probably busted for lying to him about Mom, but…” “I didn’t lie, Ross!” “A sin of omission then. Whatever.” “There’s a difference.” He laughed. “You really scare me sometimes, Karen.” “Do you think it’s over?” “What?” “My marriage? Do you think it’s over?” Ross turned serious for a moment. “Wait. You really believe that’s a possibility, don’t you?” Karen was silent for a moment, but when she spoke, she couldn’t help but let out a sob. “Yes.” “Oh, Karen. I’m sorry for laughing. I really thought… well, I thought you were past all of this. I thought you and Dad had gotten to a place where…” “So did I! And then he sees your freaking mother and now he won’t talk to me anymore. I don’t know what to do, Ross. I feel like I’m cut out of the loop again and…” “Listen,” he said, trying to calm her. “Just take it easy. You’re gonna send yourself into early labor. I’m gonna see Dad later today. I’ll talk to him about it, see if I can feel him out a little bit and then I’ll let you know what he says.” “You’re seeing Will later today?” she repeated. “Why? He didn’t say anything.” “Honestly, I don’t know. He called me this morning and said he wanted to see Emily, Wendy and me this afternoon. Not sure what that’s all about.” “Wendy too? God, this has got to have something to do with Diana! They’re getting back together again, I just know it.” “Karen, again, just relax. Just hang in there until I know more and we’ll talk later, okay?” “Alright. Rossie?” “Yeah?” “Thanks. You’re a good friend.” The elevator beep announced the car’s arrival on the fifth floor, shaking Randy Marshak from the daze that he’d been in most of the morning. He smiled at the other two people in the elevator and stepped out, scratching his head in bewilderment. He had no idea which way to go from here. It had been another long, sleepless night. He’d heard Olivia come home a little after midnight, but (as had become something of a routine) neither of them spoke to the other. Before long, Randy had fallen back into a restless slumber, filled with horrible sounds of his daughter screaming for help and flickering flames. None of it made any sense. The only thing he knew for certain was that when he woke up, the first thing he’d wanted was a drink. He’d promised Maggie Whittaker that he’d stop drinking. She’d begged him to seek out help if he felt the urge come on him again. At the time he’d dismissed her concerns as frivolous, but now he was starting to realize that he did need help. Some kind of help, anyway. “Excuse me,” he said, stopping a passing orderly. “Can you tell me where room 5182 is?” “Sure,” the young man said with a smile. “You’re almost there.” He pointed toward a far hallway. “Turn there and it’s three doors down.” “Great, thanks.” “No problem. Take your time. They haven’t started yet.” The orderly smiled in an understanding way and continued on down the hall. Randy frowned at the comment, but made his way to room 5182 regardless. He pushed open the door and saw a group of about eight people seated in fold-out chairs in the empty room. They were chatting amongst themselves, holding paper cups. A pretty blonde woman wearing a white coat and some kind of hospital insignia was making conversation with another person as they nibbled on donuts. She checked her watch and excused herself from the conversation. “Okay, everyone, let’s begin.” A hush fell across the room as the woman took a seat in front of the group. Randy kept to the back of the room. She spotted him, but, respecting his privacy, chose not to acknowledge his presence. “Good afternoon, everyone. Most of you know me, but my name is Lillian, and I’m an alcoholic.” “Hi Lillian,” the group said collectively. Lillian continued speaking, but Randy turned to walk out. As he made his way back toward the elevator, he heard someone calling to him from behind him. “It was you,” the voice said, getting closer. He turned to see a beautiful redhead approach him, her hair pulled back tightly in a ponytail. He recognized her instantly as the woman he’d met at Baxter’s the other night… the night he’d gotten drunk and passed out on Maggie’s couch. She was considerably less glamourous today. Aside from her hair, she was wearing a plain track suit and very little makeup. “Hi,” she said, approaching him. “Do you remember me?” “Yes…” he struggled for her name, but drew a blank. “I’m Shelby,” she said extending her hand. “And you’re… Randy, right?” “Right.” She nodded. “I’m sorry to bother you, it’s just… well… I thought I saw you standing there in the back of the room. This is my first time at one of these meetings… I guess I just was hoping to see a friendly face.” “I see,” he said coldly. “Well, I’m sorry, I just went into the wrong room.” He turned to leave but she fell into step next to him. “Wrong room,” she repeated. “Right. Well, listen, since I bumped into you, I just wanted to… you know… apologize for the other night and all.” “Really, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he said, desperately trying to get away from her. “It was all a big misunderstanding. I just had a little too much to drink and…” “I remember. And bad things happen when you drink, Daddy.” The words stopped him dead. He’d forgotten that he’d told her that; aside from Katie’s screams for help, that was the only part of his recurring vision that he could recall. “Please,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I just want to go home.” “Stay, Randy,” she said. “We’re both in the same boat, here. Listen, I don’t know what your story is, and you don’t know mine. But there’s got to be a reason we both found ourselves here at the same time. Come back with me. Give it a shot. Why not?” He rubbed his eyes. “Listen, Miss…” “Shelby,” she repeated. “Just call me Shelby.” “Shelby. I appreciate what you are trying to do, and I’m sorry about the other night. If I’d known you had a drinking problem, I would never have…” “What? Talked to me? Told me about your wife and daughter?” He paused for a moment, realizing that most of that night had been a blur. Maybe she could help him. “If you don’t mind me asking… what exactly did I tell you?” “Well,” she said, crossing her arms. “Something about your daughter not liking you to drink, obviously. Something else about her being an artist. Then there was something about a fire and…” “Wait!” he exclaimed. “A fire? What about a fire?” Shelby smiled. Fish, meet hook…
TO BE CONTINUED Don't miss an episode! Join our episode notification list by clicking below...
What did you think of this episode? Join us on the message board to discuss! Next On Autumn Lake:
|
