Previously…
– Alex prepared to face Liam at the movie premiere in L.A. but was thrown when Liam revealed that his date was Alex’s ex, Seth. Liam needled Alex by suggesting they have a threesome and, after Alex declined, warned him that Trevor would soon grow bored of their domestic life.
– Rosie busted Caleb for buying drugs, which served as the first break in the police and D.A.’s hopeful case against her ex-boyfriend, drug dealer Diego Barrera.
– Travis was grateful when he learned how Rosie had protected his cousin, Caleb, during the bust.
– Diane was confused when her ailing father mistook her for someone named Therese, but when she questioned her mother about the incident, Claudia froze up and insisted she had no idea who Therese might be.

The whimsical sounds of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, occasionally punctuated by Chase Marshall-Brooks’s giggles, fill the kitchen. Alex Marshall grins to himself as he stands over the stove, watching as the ground beef and chopped onions sear in a pan. Occasionally he glances over his shoulder to check on his young son, stationed in his high chair with the iPad in front of him. There was a time when Alex would have much preferred to play music while he cooked, but these days, his son’s joy is a much more satisfying soundtrack. 

Alex is just draining the meat when he hears the front door unlock and open. Involuntarily he stiffens, but he pushes the anxiety aside.

“We’re in the kitchen!” he calls out.

Seconds later, Trevor Brooks appears in the kitchen, still wriggling out of his black coat.

“Welcome home,” Trevor says as he crosses to the stove and gives his husband a kiss.

“Daddy!” Chase exclaims, flailing his arms.

“And hi to you, too!” Trevor hurries over to the high chair to greet their son. As Trevor spends a few moments chattering back-and-forth with Chase, Alex transfers the still-hot meat into a serving dish.

“What is going on here?” Trevor asks once he stands up and rejoins Alex.

“Taco Tuesday,” Alex tells him. “Even if it isn’t actually Tuesday…”

“But you know Taco Tuesday is my favorite day. You’re amazing.”

Alex shrugs. “I’ll have everything ready in a few minutes. Want one of these?” He holds up a pitcher of freshly made margaritas.

“Only if you promise to tell me about your trip while we both have one,” Trevor says.

Once again feeling that tightness in his chest, Alex nevertheless fills the two salt-rimmed glasses and hands one to Trevor.

“Cheers,” Trevor says. “It’s good to have you home.”

“I wasn’t gone very long,” Alex replies. “But cheers.”

They clink their glasses together and each have a sip.

“I told your dad he should stay for dinner, but he decided to go home,” Alex says. “I think he was wiped from babysitting today.”

Trevor laughs. “I’m not surprised.”

Alex takes another quick sip of his margarita. “But yeah, it was great to see Lauren and Josh and the kids.”

“I bet. But come on! What about the premiere?”

“What about it? Like I told you, the movie was good. Like, surprisingly so. I was relieved.”

“Good. But you told me that over the phone,” Trevor says. “And I know the movie wasn’t all you were worried about when you went down there.”

“Yeah.” Alex hesitates for a moment before saying, “Actually, something did happen. Something I didn’t think I could tell you over the phone.”

Diane Bishop drums her long, pink-covered fingernails on the copper tabletop.

“He was definitely more lucid this morning,” she says.

“Then why don’t you ask him who Therese is?” Sarah Fisher Gray says. She sits across from her friend in the main dining room of Bill’s on the Pier; the restaurant buzzes with the chatter of happy hour, as the two women share a plate of tuna tartare and enjoy glasses of white wine.

“For one,” Diane explains, “my mother has been hovering over my father constantly. I thought about asking him while she went back to the hotel to shower, but they were doing tests the entire time she was gone.”

“Do you think she doesn’t want you to know?”

“Highly possible.” Diane widens her eyes and uses her fork to pick up more of the tartare. “He’s still so weak, too. I don’t know about racing in there and putting him on the spot the second he wakes you, you know?”

Sarah nods. “Yeah. You know, he could have just been muttering nonsense in his sleep…”

Diane finishes chewing her bite of food. “Completely. But the way he looked at me, like he really was seeing someone else in that hospital room…” She drifts off for a moment, recalling her father’s delirious assertion that she was a woman named Therese. “Whoever this Therese is, it’s someone he knows.”

“Or knew.”

“Right. I don’t know — between the way he said the name and my mother’s reaction, I’ve got this gut feeling that there’s more to the story.”

“Well, one thing comes to mind right away,” Sarah says as she twirls her wine glass contemplatively.

“That he’s having an affair?” Diane says bluntly as she sets down her fork.

“Yeah. That could be the beginning and end of it. And if your mother knows, that would explain her reaction.”

“And if that’s all, then that’s all. But this family… my father lied to everyone about having terminal cancer. There’s no telling what other secrets they’re sitting on.”

“You have a point there,” Sarah agrees. “But what are you going to do if you won’t just ask your dad?”

“That’s where you come in,” Diane tells her. “This isn’t just a friendly catch-up — although you know I never get tired of those. Sarah, I want to hire you as a P.I. to find out who Therese really is.”

—–

Meanwhile, in the restaurant’s busy kitchen, Travis Fisher carefully navigates his way through the hectic grill area, avoiding elbows and feet and flames, until he makes it to the back room. He opens his small locker and takes off his chef’s coat.

“Thanks for hanging around a little longer than you were supposed to,” Matt Gray says from the doorway.

“No problem.” Travis hangs up his coat and takes his backpack from the locker. “You sure everything’s gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Randy should be here in 15 or so. Just need the extra hands bussing tables.”

“You still haven’t heard anything from Jesse?”

Matt shakes his head quickly. “Nothing. It isn’t like him to just flake on a shift and not even call or text. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

“Yeah,” Travis agrees with a nod, though his mind is tugging him in a different direction entirely. “What are you gonna do about him?”

“Guess that depends on where he actually is. I’ll let you know if I hear from him.”

“Cool.” Travis slips into his down jacket. “Good luck tonight.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s gonna be too crazy, so we should be good. Have a good night, Travis.”

“You, too, Uncle Matt.”

Matt claps Travis on the shoulder as the younger man exits the room, and Travis then leaves the restaurant via the back door at the end of the kitchen. The chilly winter air instantly propels him into a new state of alertness as it bites at his exposed face and hands. He hurries toward his car, gets inside, and starts the engine. As the vehicle warms up, Travis pulls his phone from his pocket.

He has an excellent idea what might have happened to Jesse. It’s merely a question of whether or not he should ask.

“Officer Jimenez,” Audrey Tam says as she rises from her seat in the windowless conference room inside the King’s Bay Police Department’s headquarters. “Thanks for joining us.”

“Of course,” Rosie Jimenez responds. She stops at the end of the table nearest the door and places her hands over the back of one of the worn leather office chairs. The room is empty, save for the District Attorney and an official-looking middle-aged man in a dark suit still seated beside her, with a swath of paperwork spread before him.

“What can I do for you?” Rosie asks.

“No need to be nervous,” Tam tells her. “This is good news.”

Rosie had hoped this was why she had been summoned to meet with the D.A. at the end of her shift. She lets out an involuntary sigh of relief.

“We arrested Jesse Alfaro this morning,” the D.A. continues. “We had to get a lot of pieces into place before we could make the move, but we got him.”

“Wow. Great. I’m, uh, I’m glad that worked out.” Rosie shifts her weight from one foot to the other uncertainly; she is not sure how she is supposed to respond or what she is supposed to say in this situation. Tam always leaves her with the feeling that the other shoe is about to drop — something about the intensity of her stare, the way she pinches her face together.

“There’s just one more thing,” Tam says.

And there it is, Rosie thinks. She forces a pleasant expression onto her face.

“What’s that?” she asks. “I really don’t have anything else on Diego that I haven’t already told you, so if Jesse–”

“It isn’t about Diego Barrera. At least not directly.”

Rosie feels her jaw tighten as she braces.

“We’re hopeful that Jesse will give us exactly what we need to make a move on Barrera,” Tam says. “But I wanted to advise you to take some precautions.”

“What kind of precautions?” Rosie’s heart rate picks up. “You promised me that it wouldn’t look like I had anything to do with this.”

Tam offers a condescending smile. “Yes, but you went ahead and made that first bust on your own, Officer. We’ve covered our tracks the best we can, but you and your family should still be aware that once we get Jesse to roll on Barrera, it’s entirely possible that they’ll deduce that this had something to do with you.”

“What am I supposed to do, go into hiding?” Rosie demands. “If I hadn’t made that bust, you wouldn’t have anything!”

“No, we wouldn’t have had anything as quickly as we did. I don’t appreciate your tone, Officer. You’re the one who made a unilateral move. All I’m doing is giving you an advance warning.”

Rosie forces herself to stifle the counterargument that is ready to fly out of her mouth, knowing that arguing with the D.A. is not going to get her anywhere right now.

“What do you suggest I do, then?” she asks after a pause.

“Be on your guard. And talk to your family. Make sure everyone is taking precautions — locking doors, not walking outside alone at night, that kind of thing. We’re being proactive here.”

Rosie sighs again, although this time, there is no relief in it — simply the weight of this new scenario that has been thrust upon her.

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt this time,” Tam adds.

“Okay,” she says.

“Great. We’ll keep you updated. And you’re welcome,” Tam says with what could only be called a sneer. Rosie mutters a cursory thanks and rushes out of the conference room.

—–

Trevor places his margarita glass down on the counter as his brow furrows with concern.

“What do you mean, something happened?” he asks. “Did Liam do something? You sounded okay when we talked–”

“Liam did do something,” Alex says. “He, uh… he brought a date.”

“Okay… What’s wrong with that?”

“His date was Seth.”

“Seth? Your Seth?”

“He’s not my Seth,” Alex replies, perhaps a little too hastily.

“Alex, he’s your ex, and you wrote the damn book about him,” Trevor says. “I feel like he’s the most, you know, relevant Seth we’re gonna talk about.”

“Okay. True.” Alex takes another drink of his margarita while he thinks. “It was Liam trying to get under my skin. Again. He completely has not gotten over what happened.”

“I really didn’t know he had it in him to be so vindictive.”

“Neither did I. But — surprise — he is.”

“What about Seth?” Trevor asks. “Was he in on it?”

“I don’t think so. Anyway, it was fine.”

“So that was it? He just wanted to stick it to you?”

Alex nearly chokes on his drink, thinking immediately of how Liam suggested that he, Seth, and Alex could all hook up. He has contemplated whether he should tell Trevor about that, but in the moment, it seems foolish.

“I left the reception after maybe half-an-hour or so,” Alex tells him. “I got to see the movie, I met the director, I mingled a little… and I guess Liam got whatever he wanted.”

“Sounds pretty pathetic to me,” Trevor says. “Do you want to tell me about the movie, or should I wait to see it?”

“Wait to see it. I mean, I might spill a few details while we eat…”

“Great.” Trevor peers past Alex to look at the various serving dishes full of ingredients for their makeshift taco bar. “Thanks for cooking. I was thinking we’d get takeout or something. But this is so cute and homey.”

Something about that phrase — so cute and homey — gives Alex pause. Right on its heels are Liam’s words, bouncing to the forefront of his mind, where they have been stewing ever since they were first spoken:

“I thought Trevor and I were happy and monogamous, and look how that turned out. Things might be sunny and happy now, but eventually, he’s going to get bored of playing house with you and that baby. You know it as well as I do.”

Another one of Chase’s delighted squeals pulls him from his thoughts.

“Everything should be ready in five minutes or so,” Alex says, forcing a smile. “The shells are just warming up. Why don’t you go get changed?”

“Sounds good.”

He watches as Trevor gives Chase a pat on the head and then moves toward the master bedroom. Alex reminds himself that Liam was just being spiteful, that he knows nothing about their marriage and simply wanted to hurt Alex, but as he looks again at their dinner. He thought it would make for a nice night in for their little family, but now it just seems corny.

Alex sighs and then checks on the taco shells in the oven, desperate to push Liam’s warnings out of his head.

—–

Sarah looks across the table at Diane.

“You’d rather hire a P.I. instead of just asking your dad?”

“Look,” Diane says as she reaches for her wine glass. “I know you come from a normal family–”

Sarah interrupts with a laugh. “You think my family is normal?”

“Well, at its core, it is. You guys love each other. You communicate. We’ve… never been that kind of family. There are reasons I always wanted to shield Samantha from getting too drawn into that side of her family.”

“But now you want to dig into their business,” Sarah says.

“Yes.” Diane takes a sip of her wine. “My father doesn’t have much time left. And then we’re going to have all this crap to deal with: wills, property, who knows what else? If there’s some skeleton about to jump out of a closet–”

“Then you’re rather know ahead of time.”

“Exactly. If it’s nothing, it’s nothing. But the way my mother looked when I mentioned the name Therese… I’m convinced there’s something there.”

“Then I’ll get some basic info from you and start to investigate,” Sarah tells her.

“Thanks. And this stays between us, right?”

“Of course.” Sarah mimes locking up her lips and tossing away a key. “How are you feeling about what’s going on with your dad?”

“I just want to know what’s going on,” Diane says. “Enough with the secrets.”

“Aside from this little mystery, or whatever it is,” Sarah clarifies, as she levels a solemn stare upon her friend. “It has to be tough for you to see him that way.”

“It is, and it isn’t.” She thinks for several seconds before continuing. “I gave up the fantasy a long, long time ago that I’d ever be close with my parents. So it doesn’t really feel like I’m suffering some great loss.”

“He’s still your dad.”

“And it’s sad,” Diane admits. “It’s weird to see him so weak and so out-of-control. But we aren’t the Fishers, and we never will be. It’s just different.”

Sarah regards her with concern and compassion, though she knows better than to push when Diane is like this. Instead, she pulls a small notebook from her purse, which is resting beside her chair.

“Then let me get a few details from you,” Sarah says as she opens the notebook, “and I can at least try and get you some peace of mind on one front.”

“You’re the best,” Diane says as she leans forward, her expression brightening as they move past the difficult subject of a moment ago.

—–

Travis folds his arms against the cold as he waits outside the small apartment building. He checks the time on his phone and is about to go back to his car to wait when he sees a pair of headlights turn the corner and move through the evening darkness. He watches as Rosie parks on the street and gets out of her car.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Travis says as she approaches.

“Yeah, no problem. I was just leaving the station anyway.” She shivers. “You want to go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

He nods enthusiastically, and they quickly move to the door and go inside her studio apartment. As she sets down her things, Travis remains by the door, taking in the space; it has been a long time since he set foot inside her place, but it mostly looks the same as he remembers. Rosie drops her purse on the light gray IKEA sofa, the same one where they spent so many nights watching TV and eating popcorn. Suddenly Travis is hit by a strong, almost overwhelming, sense of longing.

Rosie turns to him. “So what’s up?”

He does his best to shake off the stupor of emotions.

“Jesse didn’t show up to work today,” he says. “He didn’t call in or get a sub or anything. I was wondering…”

Rosie narrows her eyes. “I had a feeling that’s what this was about.”

“So there is something going on.”

“I can’t say anything officially,” she explains, “but I would say that… whatever instincts you have are probably right.”

“Okay. Thanks.” He stuffs his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “And you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He cannot read behind the sharpness of her reaction, and it takes him a moment to regroup from her surprisingly snappish answer.

“I just know that you were worried about how this would all play out,” he says at last. “I worry about you — not that you need anyone to worry about you. I know that much. But I do. I miss you, Rosie.”

She swallows hard, and finally her face softens. “I miss you, too.”

Travis smiles and moves closer to her. “I know this year has been weird. But it sounds like you’re close to being able to put all that stuff behind you, and… well, it hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He looks up and sees his own hope reflected in her eyes. Ignoring the nervous twisting in his stomach, he leans forward and presses his lips to hers.

Just like the apartment itself, the kiss is so familiar and so missed.  Her lips are soft and welcoming, drawing him in, and when they part, his tongue melts through them. Travis brings his hand to the back of Rosie’s head.

“Wait,” she exclaims suddenly, pulling back from him.

“What?”

“I…” Again she swallows a visible lump. “I just can’t… I can’t. Not now.”

“Okay.” Travis studies her, hoping to find some clue, some answer to whatever just changed, but he sees nothing. “I didn’t mean to rush.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…” Silence envelops them.

“You have to stop punishing yourself for what happened at my grandma’s house,” he says. “I’ve forgiven you. So has my family. You should forgive yourself, too.”

Her gaze drops to the floor.

“You should go,” Rosie says abruptly. “I’ll let you know if anything else happens. Or your uncle can.”

“What just happened?” Travis asks. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line–”

“You didn’t. I’m just not ready.” She goes to the door and opens it. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Travis.”

He stares at her, desperate to understand what is going on, but she gives him nothing. Finally he moves to the door as well.

“I’m gonna call you,” he says.

Rosie responds only with a nod before closing the door between them.

Travis stands outside in the cold night, trying to figure out what just happened.

Inside the apartment, Rosie leans against the closed door, resisting the urge to open it.

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt this time.”

The D.A.’s voice rings in her head, keeping her from going after Travis. No matter how badly it hurts her heart to shut him out, she can’t drag him into her mess. Not again.

END OF EPISODE 962

Is Rosie making a mistake pushing Travis away?
Will Sarah be able to learn the truth about Therese?
Could Liam be right about Trevor and Alex?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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