Previously…
– After collapsing, Henry Bishop was admitted to the hospital. Diane divulged his diagnosis of Stage 4 pancreatic cancer with the family. Claudia and Natalie both blamed Diane for not telling them sooner.
– Sarah arranged for a pregnant Tori to meet with an adoption agency.
– Alex planned to travel to Los Angeles for the premiere of the movie based on his debut novel — where he knew he would have to face Liam for the first time since their nasty falling-out.

The hospital cafeteria seems as awful as always to Diane Bishop the moment she steps inside it. No matter how much they try to make it seem like a suburban coffee house or add items like parfait and kale to the menu, there is still an overriding sense of anxiety to the whole place, as if the energy of the people who come here to wait gets soaked up into the walls and floors. She scans the quiet space and spots her mother, sitting alone with a cup of coffee and a pastry.

“The nurse said you were down here,” she says as she approaches the table.

Claudia Bishop looks up with a start.

“Any news?” Diane asks.

“No,” she answers as she picks up her coffee cup. “All they’ve done is confirm what you told us.”

“At least everyone knows.”

“Yes, and now your father is lying there, going in and out of consciousness, and for all we know, this could be the end.” Claudia wags her head. “I can’t believe you kept this from us.”

“Dad asked me to. He didn’t even want to tell me.” Diane grits her teeth, as if issuing a challenge to her mother.

Claudia sips her coffee as a steely expression settles over her face.

“What if he had died, Diane?” she finally says. “Just dropped dead right there in Natalie’s living room? What would I have done then?!”

“I don’t know!” Diane exclaims, annoyed. “It’s not like he went out of his way to tell me and only me. He didn’t want any of us to know.”

“Because he’s a stubborn man. He still should have us all with him as he goes through this.”

Diane lets out a sigh. “I agree. It was stupid of him to keep it a secret, and it’s stupid of you to blame me for that.”

Claudia scowls back at her. “I’m so sorry for insulting you while I’m facing the loss of my husband.”

“Mom.” Diane rests her palms on the white tabletop. “I can barely imagine how awful this for you. And it was on my mind the whole time I was doing the show this morning, and… it sucks. Okay. It really sucks. But blaming me isn’t going to make him not be sick.”

“I know that.” Claudia picks at the scone in front of her. “I just wish you would have had the decency to include me in my own husband’s health crisis.”

“I’m not going to argue with you right now,” Diane announces as she stands up straight again. “I’m going to see Dad. Maybe he’ll be awake for a few minutes.”

“He hasn’t been very lucid any of the times I’ve been in there,” Claudia says.

“That’s one less person who’s going to yell at me for telling the truth, then.” Diane hikes up her purse on her shoulder and then heads for the exit.

—–

After landing at LAX, Alex Marshall has time to take an Uber to his hotel, check in, and take a hot shower. He dresses in the slim-cut black suit that he brought with him and cringes as he takes a bottle of water from the hotel’s minibar and notes the price. As he goes about his business, he is faintly aware of the nervous churning in his gut, a feeling that does not lessen throughout the day. It simply lingers there, reminding him of what is about to happen.

He arrives at the theatre early, as instructed, and sees the step-and-repeat set up outside. Alex blinks against the bright Los Angeles sun and observes the scene with wonder. All of these people are here today to watch and celebrate a movie based on a book that he wrote — a book that is still very near and dear to his heart, as it is based on his own experience of first love with Seth Ashby. And as exciting as that is, it is also a major source of his nerves today: he has no idea how the story has been changed since Liam Cassel had Alex removed from working on the screenplay, and seeing what it has become is almost as scary to Alex as encountering Liam himself.

“Mr. Marshall!” the young woman at the check-in desk exclaims when he identifies himself. “Congratulations.”

Alex smiles warmly at her. “Thanks. It doesn’t seem real.”

“Well, it is.” She hands him a credential. “You’ve been asked to walk the red carpet for photos.”

“Me? Really?”

“Yeah. You can just step up over there and the man in the blue shirt will show you what to do.”

The experience is a blur of shouting voices and flashbulbs. Alex lets himself be shuffled down the red carpet, stopping where instructed and doing his best to look natural as photos are snapped. The whole thing is over within minutes, and when he pauses at the end of the carpet to slip his credentials over his head, he hears a voice speaking his name.

“Alex Marshall. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”

Alex draws in a deep breath and looks up. Walking toward him is Liam Cassel, dressed in a midnight blue tuxedo that is impeccably tailored. Liam sports the slight smirk that Alex used to interpret as wry amusement at the world around him, although since their falling-out, it strikes him as much more malicious.

“I couldn’t miss it,” Alex says warily. “Hi, Liam. Hope you’re doing well.”

Liam gestures all around them. “I truly couldn’t be better at the moment. Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

“Trevor wasn’t able to make it?” Liam asks, his words lilting along on the wave of his English accent.

“I wasn’t given an invitation for a guest.” Alex’s jaw is clenched as he speaks; Liam is being perfectly nice, but something about the interaction feels very off. “Besides, he’s home with our son.”

“Oh, I read about that. You adopted, yes?”

“Yes. He’ll be two soon. Time flies.”

“Congratulations. I hope you’re all very happy.”

“We are.” Alex forces a smile — somehow even more awkwardly than he did on the red carpet — and then looks around for the theatre entrance. “I should go find a seat. Congratulations on the movie.”

“Just a moment,” Liam says. “I’d like to introduce you to my date.”

“Oh.” Now it makes sense: Liam wants to boast that he’s in a relationship, too. Alex reasons that, after the way he and Trevor hurt Liam, he can endure that much. “Sure.”

Liam turns and waves to someone amidst the throng of people. “Come here. Look who’s arrived.”

Alex sees a head of sandy blond hair emerging from the crowd — and his jaw drops when he recognizes the suit-clad man as none other than Seth Ashby.

—–

Sarah Fisher Gray turns the steering wheel as she guides her SUV out of the parking lot.

“I think that went pretty well,” she says.

“Yeah, it was good,” her husband says from the passenger seat. “What’d you think, Tor?”

In the backseat, their daughter adjusts the seatbelt over her pregnant stomach.

“It was fine,” she says. “I mean, it was good. Just a lot to take in.”

Sarah glances back over her shoulder for the briefest of moments, just long enough to offer a comforting smile.

“You’d be doing something really brave by giving this baby up for adoption,” she says.

“I know.” Tori stares out at the window at the line of trees zipping by as the car moves along.

“When we get home, we can go through the profiles of prospective parents,” Sarah says as she slows to a stop at a red light. “It might help to see them as real people who would be good parents.”

Tori sighs into the window, fogging the glass. “Yeah.”

Matt swivels his head toward the backseat. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” But Tori’s eyes betray that this is anything but the truth.

“You aren’t committed to anything,” Sarah says as she takes her foot off the brake at the sight of the light turning green. “It’s just more of exploring your options–”

“I know,” Tori says sharply. “A lot of options. I got it.”

In the front seat, Sarah and Matt trade a subtle look of exasperation.

“No one’s looking to pressure you,” Matt says. “Just not something you can ignore forever.”

“Believe me, I know.” Tori lets out a huff. “How are you even supposed to tell anything from those letters the families write?”

“Well,” Sarah begins uncertainly, “they’re supposed to… give you a sense of what people are like. It’s impossible to know everything.”

“There’s a big difference between knowing everything and at least having an idea of what kind of people you’re giving your baby to,” Tori says.

“Tori–” But before Sarah can continue, Matt places a hand on her arm, quieting her as she drives.

“Still plenty of time,” he says. “Those letters aren’t going anywhere. What do you say we swing by the house, get Billy, and all go see a movie? We can look at the letters tomorrow.”

“That sounds great,” Tori says with clear relief.

“Good idea.” Sarah reaches across and squeezes Matt’s hand gratefully, and they ride on in a more relaxed silence.

—–

“Oh my god,” Natalie Bishop says as she rounds a corner into the kitchen and lets out a loud groan. “I think I spent more time getting him down for his nap than he’s going to spend asleep.”

Spencer Ragan stands at the open door of their stainless steel refrigerator. “But he’s sleeping?”

“Yeah. For now.” Natalie leans over the counter, placing her weight on her forearms, and lets her head hang. Her brown hair dangles over the granite countertop. “I don’t get why kids act like we’re torturing them by making them take a damn nap. Do you know what I’d give for someone to make me nap every day?”

He chuckles as he takes out some hummus and a container of chopped vegetables.

“Why don’t you go take a nap, then?” Spencer asks as he drags a piece of celery through the hummus.

Natalie’s head snaps back up. “What?”

“Go take a nap. Peter’s asleep.”

“I can’t just nap on command, Spencer. Besides, I have to shower, because I haven’t even gotten to do that yet, and then I need to be ready to get Bree and go back to the hospital–”

“You could totally get in a nap.” He chomps the celery loudly.

“Who are you to stand there and talk to me like being a parent is so damn easy?” Natalie hands fly up, gesturing wildly. “You’ve been a dad for, what, a few weeks–”

“Technically two years, even if someone decided not to fill me in.”

“Will you let that go already?”

“’Let that go’?” He lets out a caustic laugh. “How am I just supposed to forget that? Peter’s sleeping upstairs and he’s basically a stranger to me–”

Natalie cuts him off with another frustrated groan, this one louder and more animalistic than the one earlier.

Before either of them can speak another word, however, a small voice crackles through the monitor sitting on the counter.

“Mommy,” Peter’s drowsy voice says. “Mommy, where are you?”

“Dammit.” Natalie balls her fists. “What’d that last, four minutes?”

“Just let him lie there,” Spencer says. “He’s safe.”

“Don’t you dare try and tell me how to parent,” she says. “I’m going to go get him back to sleep, and then I’m just jumping in the shower, and then I’m going to pick up Bree so we can go to the damn hospital. Stay out of my way, okay?”

“You got it.”

He watches her blow back out of the kitchen, shaking his head as he reaches for another piece of celery.

—–

“Seth?” Alex asks in utter confusion.

“Alex. Hey.” Seth takes a few slow steps in his direction. His dark blond hair is tidier than Alex remembers it being; his body is fuller, more solid, than the lithe figure Alex knew so well. But it is unmistakably him, older and more mature, just like Alex himself is.

“Wow.” Alex stares at his former boyfriend and one-time college roommate, this man who was his first love. There was a time when Seth’s face haunted him in his dreams, both sleeping and waking, but he exorcised that ghost many years ago. Although the process of adapting his novel about Seth into a movie stirred up some nostalgic feelings, it was not the torturous process that it would have been at one point in Alex’s life, and for that, he is immensely grateful. Still, seeing him in the flesh is so unexpected.

The entire scene around him — the flashing lights and shouting voices and vivid sun — all fades away into a muted haze as he attempts to process this.

“What are you doing here?” he manages to ask.

“Liam invited me,” Seth explains.

“As we were finishing filming, I reached out to Seth,” Liam says. “I thought perhaps the final product would benefit from any thoughts he might have–”

“You brought Seth in as a consultant?” Alex replies in disbelief. “It’s based on the book I wrote. You could’ve called me.”

Liam waves that away with his hand. “It was nothing as official as that. Truth be told, after spending so much time inside this story, I was curious to know the real Seth. I reached out to him online, and we got to chatting.”

“That’s why you invited me here, even after you got me fired from the project,” Alex says. “To rub this in my face.”

“Alex, I don’t want to make this weird for you.” Seth takes another step toward him. “Liam invited me, and I thought–”

“You aren’t the one who needs to explain this. Liam, message received, okay? Loud and clear. You win. I’m sorry for what happened between Trevor and me, but I can’t go back in time and change it.”

“Let’s not get hysterical,” Liam says in an annoyingly even tone. “Everything isn’t about you, Alex.”

Alex bites his lower lip as he attempts to get a handle on his suddenly chaotic emotions.

“I’m going to go find a seat and watch the movie,” he says. “You guys enjoy yourselves. Congratulations, Liam. I hope you’re very happy.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, instead setting his focus on the entrance to the theatre and beelining toward it.

—–

Natalie’s hair is still damp when she returns to the kitchen, now wearing a bubblegum pink sweater and a pair of dark, skinny jeans. Spencer is perched on one of the barstools at the island, fiddling with his iPhone.

“He hasn’t made a sound,” he says.

“Thank god.”

“And here.” He holds up a reusable travel mug. “Coffee.”

Natalie puzzles at the sight. “What?”

“I made you coffee to take with you,” he says. “I also just set up a car service to pick up Bree and bring her to the hospital. So you can stop racing around.” He thrusts the coffee closer to her. “Here.”

She accepts the cup tentatively. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s got to be a catch here.” She regards the coffee suspiciously. “You put something in here, didn’t you?”

“I’m not drugging you. I’m trying to help.”

“You… help? Why?”

“Because.” He fiddles with the corner of his phone case for a second. “I can tell this thing with your dad is stressing you out.”

“It is not!” she fires back automatically.

“What? Why are you acting like I just accused you of trying to kill me? Which, for the record, I am not… even though I could.”

Natalie exhales heavily; her shoulders slump. “Okay, fine. Yes, my dad being in the hospital has me on-edge.”

“I get it,” Spencer says. “Go dry your hair. I’ll handle Peter when he gets up.”

She picks up the coffee. “Thanks for this. And for setting up the car.”

“You’re welcome,” he says pointedly.

She regards him for another drawn-out moment of confusion before leaving the room. Spencer smirks before returning his attention to his phone.

—–

The stillness of Henry’s hospital room is eerie to Diane. It has been strange to see her proud, strong father shrink down and grow weaker, and now he lies in the bed, unmoving and looking a strangely uniform shade of gray. The occasional beep of a machine pierces the stagnant air.

“It’s me,” she says quietly as she lingers by the edge of the bed. They have never had a close relationship, either emotionally or physically, and it feels wrong to reach out and touch him now. But she feels that she should at least be close to him, that perhaps he will sense her presence this way.

“You really put me in a crappy position, you know that?” she says. “Mom and Natalie reacted about the way you thought they’d react — you know, full-blown hysteria.”

Henry’s mouth twitches, though his eyes remain closed.

“But everyone knows now,” she continues, “and you’re going to have your whole family around you, whether you like it or not.”

“Mmm…” The sound comes out of his mouth, long and slow, as his head shifts slightly toward the right.

“Dad?” she asks. “Dad, can you hear me?”

“Is it you?” His eyes flutter noncommittally.

“It’s me,” Diane says. “I’m here.”

“It’s you,” he says, and a hint of a smile works over his tired mouth. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me. You’re okay. Mom is downstairs–”

“Therese. It’s you.”

“What? No, Dad, it’s me. Diane. I–”

“Therese,” he says, the name less mushy than a moment ago. “It’s really you.”

Confused, she watches him for a few seconds.

“Dad? Can you hear me? It’s Diane.”

But he closes his eyes again, and his mouth goes slack, as he melts back into the pillow.

“Therese?” Diane mutters. “Who the hell is that?”

The machines continue with their steady, dutiful beeping as Henry sleeps.

END OF EPISODE 960

Who did Henry think Diane was?
Did Liam’s latest move shock you?
Will Tori be able to give up her child for adoption?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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