Previously…
– Diane went on an official date with Isaac but afterward expressed concern to Sarah when the evening ended at simply dinner.
– During a court-supervised visit with Gabrielle, Molly and Brent secretly remarried in advance of the upcoming custody trial.
– Finn lied to Trevor and Alex about his participation in Gia’s plans to take over Objection, and Trevor tried to put distance between himself and Finn because of their recent kiss.

“Whew!”

Diane Bishop rolls onto her back and wipes her sweaty forehead as she catches her breath. As she composes herself, she turns to her left and looks at Isaac Banks, who is still breathing hard on his own.

“Damn,” Isaac says through a laugh. “Someone came out of that radio studio ready.”

“You try talking to my idiot cohost in front of an audience for three hours straight and playing nice for advertisers,” Diane says. “Tell me you don’t need some stress relief after that nonsense.”

Isaac rolls onto his side and plants a kiss on her shoulder. “Happy to help you out with that. Anytime.”

Diane runs a hand over his buzzed hair and lets out a cackle. “You’re pretty helpful.”

The two lie in the king-sized bed in the primary bedroom of Diane’s condominium, with the overhead fan whirring.

“Thanks. I try.” He pecks her on the lips. “You really didn’t think I was down for this?”

“I didn’t know!” she exclaims. “You were such a gentleman on that date we went on–“

“‘Cuz I was trying to be polite!”

“Fuck polite.”

“Diane.” He runs a hand through her shaggy, highlighted hair. “You really think I wasn’t trying to find a good way to get back to this situation with you?”

She looks him up and down, noting the way the gray bedsheet is barely draped over his lower body.

“I don’t doubt it now,” she says. “But we went to that dinner and you didn’t try to–“

“‘Cuz I was trying to be a gentleman, like you said,” he cuts in. “Come on.”

Diane laughs. “Okay, fine. You’ve made it up to me since.”

Isaac exhales as he flops onto his back. “Good. And as much as I’d like to lie here all day, I should probably shower.”

She reaches over and drags her nails over his bare chest. “Why?”

“I told you! I’ve got a playdate.”

“That’s a weird thing to say to the woman you’re dating,” Diane says, also turning onto her side and propping her head up on her hand.

“With my little brother,” he says.

“Okay, okay.” Diane smirks back at him. “If you’re hanging out with Chase, that’s an acceptable reason to get out of this bed. One of the only ones.”

“Good.” Isaac lights up as he continues, “That kid is so funny. I dunno if he totally gets that I’m his brother. But I guess it’s good practice for being a dad.”

Diane freezes. “You want that?”

“To hang out with my brother? Yeah…”

“No. To be a dad.”

Mid-movement, Isaac stops and lies back against the pillow.

“Not sure,” he says. “Why?”

“Isaac. Come on.” Diane arches an eyebrow at him. “I’m not exactly, you know, of child-bearing age.”

He squints at her. “So?”

“So. You just said you’re thinking about being a dad.”

Halfway out of the bed, he stops and turns back toward her. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s worth bringing up,” Diane says.

“It’s nothing.”

“It is!” She sits up, pressing her elbows into the pillow. “Isaac. Is that something you–“

“I just said it,” he explains as he pulls his boxer briefs on.

“It’s kind of a big thing,” Diane presses. “You mentioned practicing to be a dad. Is that something you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Isaac says with a shrug.

“Isaac. You’ve got to talk to me here.” She sits up further in the bed. “Is being a dad something that’s important to you?”

—–

Hot shower water cascades down over Caleb Taylor. As he lathers his dark hair with shampoo and then rinses it beneath the shower head, his mind wanders to the family outing in which he knows he has to participate today. The thought of sitting in that courtroom while lawyers and a judge debate who should have custody of his little sister sounds terrible — the preliminary hearing was awkward enough — but he knows that his parents need both his and Christian‘s support.

He switches off the water and pushes back the shower curtain. A beige towel hangs on the rack nearby, and he grabs it and dries himself off. He takes a look at himself in the steamed-up mirror, momentarily admiring how his workouts have been paying off, and pushes his still-wet hair away from his forehead. After applying deodorant, he walks down the hallway in his towel and returns to his bedroom.

After contemplating the contents of his closet for a minute, he decides on a striped polo shirt and blue golf pants. He dresses, dropping the used towel on the bedroom floor, and fixes his hair in the mirror above his dresser. Then he makes his way downstairs.

When he reaches the landing in the middle of the staircase, he sees his father pacing in the entryway, hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Is it already time to go?” Caleb asks. “I thought Mom said–“

“No, you’re good. We still have time,” Brent says as he looks up at his son. “I actually don’t know where your mother is.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know where she is? We have to go to court, right?”

“She said she needed to take care of something and left.” Brent shrugs. “She said she’d be back in plenty of time, but still…”

Caleb descends the remaining stairs. “You don’t think she’s doing anything, like, risky? Right?”

“I don’t know,” Brent admits. “Tensions are running high. Whatever was so urgent, I hope she knows what she’s doing.”

—–

Molly Taylor closes the driver’s side door of her champagne-colored Mercedes and makes her way through the small but well-manicured front yard leading up to the yellow bungalow. She is already dressed in the embroidered, black Chanel blazer and simple white blouse that she plans to wear to court, and the clothing feels stifling — but she cannot tell whether that is because of the summer heat or the stress of the day. Even without the layers, she is so jumpy that she might want to crawl out of her own skin.

She rings the doorbell and then removes the blazer as she waits. She is hanging it over her forearm when Trevor Brooks opens the door.

“Hey,” he says, regarding her with a concerned expression. “What’s up? You sounded out-of-sorts on the phone.”

“I am out-of-sorts,” Molly tells him as he steps aside to let her into the house.

“The custody hearing starts today, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t you be at court?”

“I still have some time. And I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah, what’s going on? Come on, we can sit down.”

He leads the way to the living room just off the entry. Two small couches face one another, with a coffee table in-between them. Molly and Trevor each take one of the couches and sit facing one another.

“Thanks for delaying going into the office so we could talk,” she says. “I obviously didn’t want to go down there to talk to you.”

“Understandable…” He trails off, his confusion and worry apparent.

“First things first,” Molly says, “I have a favor to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“Christian came out to Brent and me the day of the Pride parade.”

“Oh, wow. Everything’s cool, I assume.”

“Of course it is. On our end, anyway. But it kind of came out in a strange way. He’d been seeing this older guy he met on an app–“

“How much older are we talking?”

“Too old for him. Maybe early 30s.”

“Yeah. That’s too old,” Trevor agrees, quickly adding, “for him.”

They share an acerbic laugh, and then Molly explains the tale of how Robbie was interested in both Christian and Sabrina.

“That is twisted!” Trevor says when she is through. “But it sounds like Christian’s doing okay now.”

“He is. But I wanted to ask you, as a friend, if you could talk with him a little. Maybe give him some perspective on being gay, how to meet guys safely, any resources or places that would be helpful for him to know about. That kind of thing. The internet is great in a lot of ways, but I don’t want him only turning to strangers online to figure this stuff out.”

Trevor leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Totally. I’m more than happy to talk with him. You’re a good mom for trying to help him navigate all this.”

“I’m trying,” she says before letting out a sigh. “Thank you, Trevor. That’ll be a huge help.”

“It’s no problem. But is that what was so urgent you had to meet this morning? I know you want Christian to be taken care of, but…”

“No,” she cuts in. “That’s not the only thing I need to talk to you about.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay…”

“There’s something else I need your help with,” Molly says. “Something a little sneakier, shall we say.”

—–

“No shoes!” Gabrielle Fisher yells. The little girl stands at the base of the stairs inside Juanita Jimenez‘s home; Rosie Jimenez is in front of her, holding up two different pairs of slip-on flats, one black and one pink.

“You need to wear shoes when we go out,” Rosie tells the child. “Do you want black or pink?”

Gabrielle stomps her feet. “I said, no shoes!”

“You have to wear shoes, Gabrielle,” Rosie repeats.

“What’s going on?” Travis Fisher asks he enters from the adjoining kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand.

Rosie turns toward her husband and rolls her eyes. “We’re fighting against the oppression of footwear today.”

“I don’t want shoes!” Gabrielle declares, screwing up her face to show her disdain for the very idea.

“Maybe we can just give her a few minutes to forget about it,” Travis suggests. “We have some time.”

“Gabrielle, why don’t you go pick out a stuffy to bring with you?” Rosie says.

“I want the turtle!” Gabrielle says. “Or the cow!”

“Go and get whichever one you want,” Travis tells her. Gabrielle totters into the living room on her small, still-unsteady legs.

With a sigh, Rosie lets her arms fall to her sides, a tiny pair of shoes dangling from each hand. “I wish we didn’t have to bring her.”

“I know. But at least she’s comfortable with the social worker now.”

“Yeah… I worry that she can, I don’t know, sense the tension in the air, and that’s why she’s being difficult.”

“Rosie.” Travis squares his body toward hers. “First of all, I think the stuffy mission redirected her just fine, and she’ll forget all about hating shoes in the next three minutes. And if she doesn’t, what’s the worst case? We put her in the stroller without shoes.”

“I’m not showing up to that courthouse with a kid not wearing shoes,” Rosie insists. “Because if they see–“

“The judge isn’t going to take custody away from us because Gabrielle doesn’t have her shoes on.”

“You don’t know that, Travis. Any little thing Brent and Molly can use–“

“I’ll make sure she has shoes on, okay?” He takes both pairs from her hands. “We’ve got this. Just breathe.”

“I’m trying,” Rosie says, but her entire body remains tightly coiled with anxiety.

—–

Isaac stands beside Diane’s bed, clad only in his black boxer briefs, as she stares him down and awaits an answer.

“It’s not that serious,” he says.

“It kind of is that serious,” Diane responds.

Isaac shakes his head, as if trying to shake away the weighty issue itself. “We’re not even in some kind of committed relationship… yet.”

“Yet. It kind of does feel like it’s heading there, doesn’t it?” She pauses, hoping that he will fill the space. When he doesn’t, Diane follows up, “Unless that’s not something you want, in which case we should probably put that on the table right now.”

“Diane, that’s not even close to what I’m saying. I like this. I like us.”

“Okay,” she says with a thoughtful nod. “Good. But we are in very different places in our lives. I have a grown daughter. And I’m definitely not going to be popping out another baby. So if that’s something that’s important to you…”

“It’s something I’m open to. I’m not totally sure it’s something I need. And there are other ways: adoption, surrogates, you know.”

“Yeah. Of course.” She forces a smile. “Burying our heads in the sand about big issues is not gonna make them go away.”

“I don’t need ’em to go away. I just don’t have my head in that space at all these days.” He leans across the bed and plants a kiss on her lips. “Where I’ve got my head is here, with you. The rest we can figure out as we go.”

“Good. Now go shower. There’s an extra towel underneath the vanity for me.”

“Thanks.” He flashes her a last smirk and then exits toward the bathroom.

In bed, Diane folds her arms as the smile fades from her face and she replays their conversation in her head. The possibility of raising another child has not occurred to her in any real way in a long, long time — maybe ever, actually — and she cannot quite imagine how such a scenario would even fit into her life at this stage. She hears the shower begin to run as she remains planted in the bed, thinking.

—–

“A little sneakier?” Trevor questions Molly. “I’m guessing this favor doesn’t have anything to do with your son…”

“Not at all,” she says. “This one is all about work.”

Trevor settles against the back of the sofa. “Ah.”

“I had a run-in with Finn before the Pride parade,” Molly tells him. “When I told him that Christian and I wanted to ride the Objection float, he almost jumped out of his skin.”

“Why?”

“He seemed terrified that Gia would find out and blame him. Like he was supposed to keep me away from anything Objection-related.”

“You know how Gia is,” Trevor says. “She always needs to be the top dog. She’s clearly threatened by you.”

“That’s what worries me. I don’t think she regards this as covering for me while I’m out on leave. She doesn’t want me coming back. Ever.”

With grudging agreement, Trevor nods before asking, “So how does this involve me?”

“You and Finn are close, aren’t you?”

“I– I wouldn’t say we’re close, exactly…”

“You’re friendly, and he rents your family’s house. So you have a good relationship, it seems. What I’m wondering is if you could possibly pry any hints out of him as to what Gia might have up those couture sleeves of hers.”

“You know… Alex had the same thought.”

“About Gia? Why would that woman even cross Alex’s mind?”

“Well… he went over to my parents’ house to handle a repair or something, and he happened to notice that Finn was getting a call. And it was from Katherine Fitch.”

“Excuse me?” Molly’s eyes pop wide with disbelief. “Why would one of our board members be calling Finn? Unless–“

“Unless she was trying to reach Gia through him,” Trevor finishes the thought for her. “Alex thought it was shady, but when I asked Finn, he denied knowing anything and just said he was asked to put the call through.”

Molly taps a clear-coated, manicured fingernail against her chin. “That makes so much sense now.”

“What does?”

“I tried to put in calls to two board members after what happened at Pride,” she explains, “and I didn’t hear back from either one. Maybe Gia really has been working them. Do you get the sense that she’s planning anything in particular?”

“Not that I know of,” Trevor says. “But I can dig around a little.”

“It would be a huge help. And your closeness with Finn is the perfect cover.”

“I don’t know about that,” he hedges.

“But you’ll try?”

“Of course. No problem.”

“Thanks, Trevor,” Molly says, and he replies with an encouraging nod, even as the thought of trying to leverage Finn’s apparent crush on him fills him with a sense of dread, one that he cannot quite explain.

END OF EPISODE 1192

Is Trevor putting himself in a bad spot to help Molly?
How will Rosie and Travis react to Molly and Brent in court?
Should Diane be concerned about Isaac’s future plans?
Talk about all this and more in the comments below!

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