A FEW HOURS LATER, SUMNER GROUP EXECUTIVE FLOOR:

The executive reception area is crowded with staffers, all of them shuffling around with briefcases, files and other important documents. The sounds of many separate conversations, phone calls coming in on multiple lines, and the opening and closing of elevator doors fill the room. Bart Sloan exits one of the elevators and walks briskly toward Jack Ewing’s office. Seeing that Jack’s secretary is not at her desk, he opens the door to the office and walks in.

Inside, the new co-president is strenuously working out on a treadmill with his back to the door. The left window corner of the large office serves as a miniature physical fitness center. There are a few small hand weights in racks by the treadmill and some ankle weights right below them.

Bart coughs to signal his entrance to the room, and a surprised Jack turns around quickly. Identifying his visitor, he presses the “slow down” button on the treadmill, gets off the machine and grabs a towel from the side of his weight racks.

“Bart … I was expecting your mother,” he says slightly breathlessly, a hint of embarrassment evident in his tone. “I assume you’ve come in her place?”

“Yeah. Sorry for barging in like this, but your assistant wasn’t at her desk,” the younger man replies awkwardly.

“No, no,” Jack replies, holding up his hand. “I should know by now to expect the unexpected where Hillary Clark is concerned. Have a seat, and I’ll be right with you.”

“No hurry, Jack,” Bart responds in a more friendly tone, sitting down.

Jack goes over to a small table adjacent to his desk and opens up a small bottle of pills. “Amino acids—gotta stay in shape,” he informs him. “I’m not as young as I used to be. So, your mom’s still sulking about us not going for the alternative energy deal, eh?”

“I guess,” Bart replies monotonously. He picks up a bottle from the coffee table before him and reads the label. “L-Arginene/L-Orginine Supplement,” he reads aloud. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Jack replies. “Actually, it was Hillary who suggested it.”

“Mother suggested it,” Bart repeats skeptically. “You probably follow a lot of Mother’s suggestions, don’t you, Jack?”

“Sure, some of them,” he responds sharply. “She obviously knows a lot about staying in shape.”

“All I know is that she’s refusing to come over here to deal with Greg Sumner, or his people, for anything,” Bart says matter-of-factly. “So I’m the chosen one. You, me and Sumner—what a team.”

“Careful, I might start to think you’re glad to be here,” Jack replies with a wink.

“I’m fine with it. I’m used to my mother’s histrionics. And you seem like a good enough guy. Her usual type.”

Jack hesitates for a moment before speaking. “I think I’ll just take that as a compliment so we can get down to business.”

Bart nods his way, and they do just that, the remainder of their interaction—for this day, at least—limited to business.

MEANWHILE, AT THE KNOTS LANDING CONVENTION CENTER:

“Hello, Ewin’ Properties, this is Lilimae. How may I help you?” the spry senior citizen says as she effortlessly juggles Manila folders and telephone line switches. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices two figures moving through the vestibule to the office.

“Lou! I didn’t recognize it was you,” she continues her phone conversation. “Oh, you shut your mouth, Lou Reilly. My momma taught me to see right through that sweet talk from boys like you! … He sure is, can you hang on for just a minute?” She presses a few buttons. “Gary,” she says into the receiver. “It’s Lou Reilly on 2.”

She hangs up and, seeing Daniel and Laura standing at her desk, switches to a more reserved tone. “Hello there,” she directs her greeting almost exclusively to Daniel. Still adjusting to seeing Laura as she used to look, Lilimae is unsure of how to interact with her.

“Hey, Lilimae,” Laura offers familiarly. “How are you?”

“Oh, other than practically havin’ to fight off these gentlemen callers with a stick, I can’t complain!” she pretends playfully.

All three share a laugh.

“Well, I bet you’re here for your appointment with Gary,” Lilimae says to Laura, getting right down to business.

“That would be me,” the redhead replies.

“I just transferred a call to him, but he shouldn’t be long. Why don’t you just go on back?”

“I’ll do that,” Laura replies with a smile and walks around the corner to Gary’s office.

“Well, Lilimae,” Daniel begins with a frown, scratching his head. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“What bad news?” she asks warily, hoping it doesn’t involve the twins.

“I just got the letter in the mail today from ‘Castaways.’ You didn’t make the final cut. I’m sorry.”

Lilimae pauses for a moment, makes a face of indifference and just shrugs it off. “Oh well, what can you do? You win some and you lose some. I was just as happy as a por-kee-pine in a pea patch to be picked as a finalist. That was enough for me.”

Daniel smiles at her odd expression.

“But thank you for taking the time to do my tape,” she continues. “You know, it looked so good that I’m toying with the idea of hiring you to make my country-and-western music video when I get around to it. You interested?” she muses.

“You bet. Just say the word!” he replies.

“Besides, with my family bein’ the way it is right now, I’m not sure goin’ off to some fanciful TV locale would be the best thing for me to do.” She pauses. “Daniel, sugar, while I have you here … I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

“Sure.”

“I’m wonderin’ about how the twins are really doin’ with their mother gone. I see them and talk to them, but young people talk different to their friends than they do their old gummas.”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know much,” he says awkwardly, putting both hands in his pants pockets.

Lilimae smiles knowingly. “Well, could I ask you to keep your ear to the ground and let me know if you find anything out? I’m just—well, those children have just been through so much in their lives.”

“I gotcha Lilimae,” Daniel says sympathetically. “If I find out that there’s anything you can do for them, I’ll let you know.”

AT THE SAME TIME, IN GARY’S OFFICE:

“… So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry,” Gary is explaining as he tips back in his chair. Laura sits erectly, across the desk from him, with an understanding expression. “I’m sorry that I—that none of us believed you, and more importantly, that I let an element of my personal life affect professional decisions. I had no right to fire you because of what was going on outside of work.”

“Gary, it was a hard time for all of us. I mean, how often do your dead friends show back up, look completely different, and think they’re someone else, right? I don’t think I would have believed it either.” She pauses and then smirks.

“What’s that about?” he inquires with an interested smile.

“Oh, I was just thinking about how funny it would be if the roles were reversed. I mean, could you see Laura Avery opening her front door on Seaview Circle one day to find a long-lost, long-thought-dead Abby Ewing on her doorstep asking for help?!”

Gary and Laura roar with laughter together.

“Well, let’s not go there,” he says, continuing to chuckle. “Where we do need to go is forward. I’ve been so swamped here with new bids, and I’ve been really shorthanded since Paige left.” He pauses. “So, if I haven’t totally turned you off to life at Gary Ewing Properties …”

“Ummm …” Laura hesitates. “Lilimae seems to be holding her own out there with the phones and everything.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” he says sarcastically.

“O … K …” She tilts her head to one side.

“That’s why I want you to take over Paige’s old job as my business manager,” he says directly.

Laura’s eyes widen, a glimmer of excitement in them, as she ponders the offer.

ON THE OPPOSITE END OF THE SHARED
EWING/MACKENZIE OFFICE SUITE:

Michael leans back in a comfortable leather chair. His glasses are on and a stuffed Manila folder is in his hand. He reads from the papers intensely.

“You getting caught up?” Janice calls out from the doorway.

“Slowly,” he replies, grateful for the break. He puts the folder down.

“I think it’s time for a break. You’ve been at it all morning. How ’bout lunch?” she suggests.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” he replies, standing and grabbing his suit jacket from the chair. “Let’s go.”

LA RENASCITA HOTEL: Mack sits in his truck in the hotel’s driveway. A valet eyes the Jeep Grand Cherokee impatiently as Mack waves him off. Keith strides out of the hotel and gets in. “Hey, Keith. How ya doin’?” “Fine, thanks,” he replies politely, buckling his seatbelt. “A little surprised to hear from you.” “What? Come on, we’re family,” Mack says enthusiastically as he pulls into the street. “I take that back. I don’t know what we are, with you out here at this schmoozy hotel.” “Good question,” Keith agrees, watching it grow smaller in the side mirror in contrast to the run-down buildings of the downtown district. “So maybe we should figure it out … together,” Mack adds sincerely, soliciting a nervous smile from his passenger.

JANICE’S CAR:

“… So, you two seemed together enough at the barbecue,” Janice remarks as she steers her Mustang onto the freeway.

“I guess,” Michael replies.

“So explain to me why he’s staying at a hotel.” She pointedly looks away from the road to make eye contact for a second.

He looks down at his lap. “It’s just more comfortable that way.”

“More comfortable for who?” she asks directly.

“Mom and Holly. The house isn’t that big.”

“Is it more comfortable for YOU, too?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he says quietly.

MACK’S TRUCK: “Why are you all fired up to play Cupid here, and fix this for us?” Keith questions. “Because that’s what I do. I fix things for people,” Mack replies humbly. “Well, I don’t know if you can fix this.” Keith sighs impatiently. “In fact, I think—in a way—that being here with all of you IS the problem.”

“… When I was beginning to explore life as a gay woman, it wasn’t something I just slipped right into,” Janice recalls. “I didn’t want to be different. I didn’t want to stand out. For a time, I avoided relationships with women because I didn’t want to deal with how my life might look as a result. Then, along came Sandy. She was different—comfortable with who she was and secure in sharing the details of her life. When she asked me to move in with her, I balked. It had been a big step for me to even try a dating-type relationship. The concept of taking it even further was just this scary thing I wasn’t prepared to do.”

“Why not?” Michael asks.

“Because that would make it real. Up until that point, I was dealing with my sexuality and my identity all alone, and that felt safe. By moving in with Sandy, I would be accepting who I was and running the risk of others passing judgment.”

“So, how’d you get over it?”

“It’s just like going to a horror movie,” she laughs. “I love horror movies, but I’m scared to death of them. You have to drag me kicking and screaming to see them, but then I just scream and laugh and get scared and love it. It was the same thing with Sandy. Finally, I just did it. The rest is history.”

“That easy, huh?”

“No, that HARD. But worth it every step of the way—I really grew as a person,” Janice says fondly, slowing the car as they approach the restaurant parking lot. “And I wouldn’t give up one day I spent living with her. Those were the best years of my life.”

“Michael may not know what he wants yet, but you do, and that’s a good thing,” Mack says. “Your experience can be something tangible for him to hold onto. I’ve seen how his face lights up when you’re around. Those Fairgates can be a stubborn bunch, but they’re worth fightin’ for.” “So, why are you and Karen living in separate houses?” Keith asks pointedly as Mack pulls into a parking spot. Mack shrugs before they get out of the car and walk toward the restaurant. Once inside, he sees Janice waving at them and turns toward her table. “I thought WE were having lunch,” Keith comments uncomfortably. “You remember my partner Janice, don’t you?” Mack says, ignoring Keith’s implied protest. “His LAW partner,” she clarifies. Keith eyes the empty fourth chair warily and looks up to see Michael walking toward them from the restroom. “I smell a setup,” he remarks knowingly. “You and me both,” Michael agrees, taking his seat. He looks from Mack to Janice. “What’s this all about?” “There seems to be a little problem here between the two of you. We want to see you patch it up,” Mack explains. “Mack, I really wish you’d stay out of this,” Michael says angrily. “Sorry, kid, I’m in it. I saw you struggle with coming out and suffer because of it. I was part of the reason it happened that way. Now that you got a chance at something good, I wanna do things right by you. Besides, Keith’s a good guy. We kinda like havin’ him around.” “It’s more complicated than that,” Michael replies. “Here we go again,” Keith sighs, throwing his arms up in the air. “Then let’s simplify it,” Janice suggests calmly. “You’re scared because you’re worried about how your family, friends and community will accept you living with another man and raising your daughter as a gay couple in a somewhat conservative neighborhood. However, your parents are both in favor of you doing it, and your daughter has already experienced living with Keith and handled it fine. All evidence suggests that your fears might be unsupported.” “No surprises there,” Keith agrees impatiently. Janice turns to him next. “And you need to give Michael a break. He started dealing with being gay a lot later in his life than you did. All of this is old news to you, but it’s still very current—and very real—for him. If you love him, and we all believe that you do, then you’re going to have to be willing to be patient.” “That’s all I’m asking for. Just some time to get used to all this,” Michael agrees earnestly. “So, what are you both willing to compromise to make this work?” Mack asks. “I guess I could be more patient,” Keith says honestly. “It doesn’t all happen overnight—It didn’t even happen that way for me.” “I’m glad you push me,” Michael replies, reaching out to take Keith’s hand. “If it were up to me, I’d probably stay in a corner and hide. You make me confront being gay head-on, and that’s good—even if it is frightening as hell.” “I’ll tell ya what’s next,” Mack interrupts. “We go over to that overpriced hotel and get Keith’s stuff so he can get home where he belongs.” Keith’s eyes widen in anticipation as he warily looks in Michael’s direction, waiting for a response. Michael looks to the man he loves, hoping to be able to see whether or not he even wants to come. The answer is undeniable. “Yeah, let’s try it,” he says gently, with a soft smile and tears in his eyes. The grip on Keith’s hand becomes ever tighter, and Keith lifts Michael’s hand to his mouth for a soft, brief kiss. “Oh goodie, I just love happy endings,” Janice remarks comically. She turns to look at Mack. “So, now let’s get to work on you and Karen.” “Uh, waiter, we’re ready to hear about those specials now,” Mack calls out.

 

MEANWHILE, AT OCEANSIDE VILLAS
—OLIVIA’S CONDO:

“I’m sure she’s just running a little late, that’s all,” Olivia says of the baby sitter as she steps quickly into the living room, fidgeting with her earring. Her mother is sitting in one of the wingback chairs, flipping through a magazine.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re right,” Abby says absently, not looking up from her reading.

“And it’s not like it’s a huge business deal or something,” Olivia continues, looking at her watch and peering out the window. “I mean, it’s just lunch with Aunt Karen.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Abby says, looking up and shrugging.

Olivia frowns. “OK, Mother. Spill it. What are you really doing here?”

“I beg your pardon? What do you mean, honey?” she coos.

“You said that you came because you needed that blue blouse back, and because you wanted to see the baby. I gave you the blouse. You saw Billy. You’ve been milling around all morning. What are you still doing here?”

Abby feigns surprise. “Well, would it be a crime for me to say that I just wanted to spend time with my daughter and grandson? I mean, I didn’t realize that my visits were clocked.”

“Mother, you know I have no problem with you coming here whenever you’d like.” She pauses and smiles incredulously. “It’s only when I know that you’re up to something that I get a little worried.”

“Up to something?” Abby repeats, barely fending off a smile. “I’m not ‘up to’ anything.”

Olivia bites the corner of her lip and gives her mother an “oh, come on!” smile.

She opens her mouth in mock shock, bats her eyelashes and shakes her head. “Well, I guess I just thought I’d stick around and check out this baby sitter you’ve hired. I mean, after all, I have a lot of experience leaving my children with others to be cared for,” she adds, trying to score points with her self-deprecation.

Olivia sighs. “Mrs. Carlson doesn’t need to be ‘checked out.’ As a matter of fact, she has plenty of experience. She was a live-in nanny for one family for 35 years, one generation after another.”

“Oh, so she’s elderly. Will she be able to keep up with the baby?”

“I can’t believe this,” Olivia scoffs. “‘A,’ she is in great shape; ‘B,’ the last time I checked, you don’t need to ‘keep up’ with a newborn; and ‘C,’” the brunette gives a long sigh and sits on the couch, “what are you up to?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Abby begins as she moves over to the sofa next to her daughter. “Why don’t I watch the baby—just until the baby sitter comes.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to …”

“You didn’t. I asked you,” she adds comfortingly. “Besides, you need to get going now. I don’t want to have to hear it from Karen, thinking that I held you up and ruined your lunch on purpose in an effort to move along some scheme that’s going to ruin all our lives.”

Olivia gives a short, chirpy laugh and shakes her head. “Well, in the interest of saving your reputation, I guess you have a deal.”

“Oh, good,” Abby agrees sweetly. “Well then, if you’ll excuse me, I think ‘Granny Abby’ is going to make herself a cup of tea and finish this magazine—but only because I forgot my needlepoint at home!”

“That’ll be the day!” Olivia proclaims as she moves toward the front door. “I should be back around 1:30. Just tell Mrs. Carlson when she gets here.”

“All right. Have a nice lunch,” Abby calls out as Olivia goes out.

As soon as the door is closed, the blonde quickly gets up, looks at her watch and then toward the hallway to the bedrooms. “Well, that was easy,” she says to herself. “Now let’s get going.”