Previously…
– Brent and Molly impulsively slept together, but the next morning, Brent told Molly that he also loves Claire.
– Jason was knocked out upon arriving home. Concerned by a series of texts from Jason’s phone, Alex went to his friend’s house late at night to check on him.
– As the hearing over Peter’s custody began, Jason was nowhere to be found at the courthouse.
– Jason and Alex were alarmed to wake up in bed together with no memory of the night before.

“What’s going on?” Alex Marshall asks in a panic, as he pulls himself to a sitting position in his best friend’s large bed.

“You tell me,” Jason Fisher replies, touching two fingers to his temple. His head is pounding far beyond what would make sense, given how little he drank last night. “What are you doing here? What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know.” Alex’s gaze strays downward, unable to keep from noticing Jason’s nudity. He quickly lifts the sheets and sees that he, too, is naked. “Where are our clothes?”

“I don’t know, Alex! And I’m fucking late for the custody hearing.” Jason snatches a pillow off the bed to cover himself. “Where the hell is my phone?”

“It has to be somewhere. You were texting me last night.”

Jason stops in his tracks. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You were freaking out — like, asking me to come over because it was urgent. I was worried about you.”

“I didn’t text you any of that,” Jason says, clutching the pillow in front of himself.

“Yeah, you did.” Alex grabs the duvet and hops out of the bed, wrapping himself in the fabric. “If I could find my phone, I’d show you.”

Without waiting for a response, he trudges out of the room, feeling his own head pounding. He moves down the stairs, taking care not to trip on the duvet, and is relieved to see a pile of clothing on the floor of the entryway.

“My phone’s in the pocket of my pants,” Alex calls out, as he looks up to see Jason coming down the stairs in a pair of gym shorts.

“Great. Then where’s mine?” Jason snaps, as he bolts past his friend. A moment later, he returns from the living room with his own iPhone.

“I didn’t text you any of this,” Jason says as he reviews the text messages in his phone.

“Someone did,” Alex replies.

Jason scowls and exhales loudly. “I need to get to the courthouse.”

Alex watches silently as Jason dials a number on his phone. His head is swirling; he feels as though he is trapped underwater, desperately attempting to get a grasp on what is happening around him.

“Why are you acting like you’re pissed at me?” he asks.

“Because,” Jason says. “This is insane. And I’m late for the custody hearing.”

Before Alex can reply, Jason turns his back and says into the phone, “Mom. It’s me. I need your help.”

When Paula Fisher feels her phone vibrating and sees Jason’s name on the display, she quickly scurries out of the small courtroom. Her eldest son and his ex-wife remain seated in the row directly behind the table where Jason’s attorneys have been waiting with confusion and impatience.

“That’s him calling,” Tim whispers over the railing to one of the lawyers.

After receiving a terse nod in response, he sits back down and sees Claire knotting her fingers together in her lap with concern.

“It’s really not like Jason to be late like this,” she says quietly.

“I know.” Tim casts an anxious glance over at the opposing table, where their son and Natalie Bishop are huddled with their own legal team. “Kind of feels like we should be sitting on that side, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I also didn’t want to leave your mom sitting here alone.”

Moments later, Paula comes bustling back into the courtroom. She slides into the row but, instead of sitting down, stretches forward over the railing to confer with Jason’s attorneys.

“Your Honor, that was Mr. Fisher calling his mother,” one of the lawyers, a middle-aged woman with a short haircut and a camel-colored skirt suit, says. “He got a flat tire on his way here, but he’s found alternate transportation and will be here within 15 minutes.”

As the judge takes this in, Elly Vanderbilt stands at the other table.

“With all due respect, Your Honor,” she says, “Mr. Fisher is the one who brought this suit in order to petition for custody. If he isn’t able to be on time to make his case, it isn’t the court’s responsibility to wait for him.”

Paula hovers over her seat, too focused on attempting to decipher the judge’s reaction to sit back down.

“I tend to agree with you on that count,” the judge, a woman with wire-rimmed glasses and curly gray hair, responds.

“That’s a relief to hear,” Elly says. “I’d like to submit a motion to have Mr. Fisher’s suit dismissed on the grounds that he’s failed to appear for this hearing.”

—–

Alex is relieved to find his car in Jason’s driveway. Fuzzy though his head is, he recalls parking it there; he also has a vague memory of making his way up to the front door, but after that, everything about last night is a blank.

His hand trembles as he presses the round button to start the car’s ignition. Another wave of that dreadful anxiety rolls through him as he waits for the display to load. He hates that Jason seems to be angry at him — that he might even blame him for whatever is going on — but he also knows that the custody hearing is Jason’s top priority right now, and judging by what he found on his phone, Alex has his own problems to which he has to attend right now.

As soon as his phone synchs with the car, he dials Trevor’s number.

“Alex,” Trevor answers, his voice filled with urgency. “Where are you?”

“It’s a long story,” Alex says as he puts the car into reverse and carefully backs out of Jason’s driveway. “I’m on my way home now.”

“Where are you? I woke up to Chase crying–“ 

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” The abruptness of Trevor’s statement makes his irritation clear.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” Alex says as he shifts the vehicle into drive, “but I think I was drugged last night.”

“What?!”

“I got these weird texts from Jason after you and Chase were in bed. It sounded like something was really wrong, and I knew he had the custody hearing this morning, so I went over to his place.”

“You think Jason drugged you?” 

“No! But I don’t remember anything after I got to his front door, and Jason doesn’t remember anything after he got home, either.”

“Why would someone lure you over to his house to drug you?” Trevor asks. Thanks to the car’s speakers, his skepticism fills the car and surrounds Alex, making it feel all the more damning.

“I wish I knew the answer to that. But think about it — the custody hearing is today, and now Jason is late for it…”

“I don’t get what you have to do with that.”

“Neither do I.” Alex grips his steering wheel hard as he makes a turn. “Something really weird is going on, Trevor.”

“Yeah,” his husband agrees. “It’s weird that you would leave your husband and son in the middle of the night and then stay out ‘til morning without so much as a text.”

“That’s because I didn’t know I was staying out!” Alex insists. “I didn’t want to wake you up, and I wanted to check on Jason. I thought I’d be back within an hour or two.”

Frustrating silence is the only response; a barely discernible electric hum comes over the line.

“I’ll be home soon,” Alex says. “And I’m going to figure out what happened.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll see you soon,” Trevor says curtly before ending the call. Alex grasps the steering wheel harder as anguish fills his chest.

—–

Brent Taylor’s mind is a tangled mass of threads, none of which seem to have a beginning or an end. His brain simply keeps looping back through the events of last night and this morning, from showing up at Molly’s house to waking up in bed with her. No matter what direction the thoughts lead him, they always lead him back to one reality: he and his ex-wife slept together, after all these years.

He still has no idea how to feel about it when he returns to his own home. He is in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee with his Keurig machine, when Christian enters.

“There you are,” the teenager says.

Brent plasters a genial smile on his face. “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t text you guys or anything. The night got away from me.”

“It’s okay. We assumed you just stayed at Claire’s.”

The statement, uttered so innocently, feels like a knife to Brent’s gut. He does his best to swallow his reaction and move past it.

“Just need some coffee and a shower before I head to the station,” he says as the Keurig begins to fill his mug. “Everything good with you guys? I still hate the thought of leaving you in the house alone all night.”

“Dad, we’re not little kids,” Christian says with a pronounced roll of the eyes.

“Still. I’ll be better about that.”

“It’s okay.”

The Keurig hisses as it finishes making Brent’s coffee.

“So, you and Claire are, like, super-serious,” Christian says.

Brent nearly chokes on his own spit. “Excuse me?”

“We saw the ring,” his son explains. “One of the cops found it in Mom’s driveway the night you guys got kidnapped. That’s why you were so nervous when you dropped me off, isn’t it? You were gonna propose to Claire that night?”

Brent busies himself with the coffee as he tries not to let guilt and shame completely overtake him.

“I was wondering how the ring got in with all my stuff at the hospital,” he manages to say. “I came back ‘cause it wasn’t in my pocket — I figured I’d dropped it–”

“That cop brought it inside and showed Caleb and me, so we brought it when we brought clothes for you,” Christian explains.

“Oh. That makes sense. Thank you.”

“So, when are you gonna do it?”

Brent pauses over the steaming coffee; the knot in his head keeps pulling tighter, making it harder and harder to put sentences together.

“The timing has been kinda crappy,” he says, “after everything that happened. I’m just recovered, and Claire’s got her mind in this custody case that Spencer’s tied up in…”

“I get that. Just don’t wait too long,” Christian says earnestly. “Claire’s great, and I know you guys love each other — no point wasting any more time. You never know what tomorrow could bring.”

Brent grins at his son’s wise-beyond-his-years pronouncement and ventures a sip of the hot coffee.

“Thanks, kid,” he says, desperate not to let his guilt show. “Just, uh, keep this between you and me for the time being, would you?”

“Duh. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

With that, Christian bounces out of the room. Brent stands there with his steaming coffee, so confused about how he is going to untie this absolute mess of a situation in which he’s now twisted up.

—–

“Objection,” one of Jason’s lawyers, an Asian woman in her 50s, immediately says. “Your Honor, Mr. Fisher called to inform us that he’d had car trouble and gave us an estimate of when to expect him. That’s actually the epitome of what makes a good parent — it’s impossible to prevent difficulties from arising, but a person can handle them promptly and responsibly.”

The judge sits back and lifts the capped end of her pen to her lips thoughtfully.

“That was a great save,” Claire whispers to Tim.

“That’s a very valid point,” the judge says. “I’m calling a 15-minute recess. If Mr. Fisher isn’t in this courtroom by the time we reconvene, I’ll grant Ms. Vanderbilt’s request.”

Amidst murmurs, people disperse throughout the courtroom and into the hallway. When Tim nods toward Spencer at the front of the room, Claire follows his lead, and they approach their son, who is huddled in conversation with Natalie.

“How are you holding up?” Tim asks.

“I’ve had less stressful days,” Spencer says. “What’s going on with Jason?”

“A flat tire, as far as we know,” Tim responds.

“Seems like a case of really bad timing,” Claire says.

Natalie lets out a huff. “Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling him that this entire suit was a bad idea.”

Claire levels a stern glare at her daughter-in-law. “After what you’ve put everyone through, you don’t get to weigh in on what’s a bad idea.”

“Let’s all just try not to fight,” Tim says.

“But that’s why Jason dragged us all here, isn’t it?” Spencer replies.

“He doesn’t want to fight,” Claire says. “He doesn’t want to let go of a child he considers his son. I can only imagine if someone had come to us when Travis was two years old and taken him away because he wasn’t biologically ours…”

“I’m not doing what my– what Loretta and James did to you guys,” Spencer says. “Peter is my son. And it isn’t like I never want to let Jason see him or be in his life. But he’s not his father.”

“And Peter is our grandson,” Tim says. “All we want is for him to know that he’s loved and surrounded by family. With any luck, after today, we can all focus on that.”

—–

Alex’s head is still spinning as he lets himself into the bungalow where he and Trevor live. He finds Trevor sitting on the loveseat with a cup of coffee while Chase sits on the floor, holding a toy fire truck as he stares up at Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the TV.

“You’re back,” Trevor says coolly.

“Yeah.” Alex lets out a sigh, sets down his keys and wallet, and goes over to his son. “How’s my little monster doing?”

“I’m watching Mickey,” Chase explains, pointing at the television to be extra-clear.

“I see that. Did you get good sleep?”

Chase nods dutifully before Alex swoops in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

When he stands up, he asks Trevor, “Is there more coffee?”

“Yeah. There’s plenty.”

Alex watches his husband avoid eye contact.

“Can you come into the kitchen while I get some so we can talk?” he asks.

A long moment of silence passes before Trevor wordlessly gets up and follows Alex into the kitchen.

“I swear, I’m telling you the truth,” Alex says once they are in the other room. “Something insane happened last night.”

“Yeah — you got up and left in the middle of the night without telling me!”

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You’d been sick.”

“You could have left a note, or texted so I’d see it.”

“I thought I’d be back well before you woke up — or that I’d be able to, you know, actually use my phone if I was going to be longer.” He pulls out his phone and opens his text conversation with Jason. “Look. The texts he sent me…”

Trevor hesitates but then does look at the screen that Alex is holding in front of him.

“What, was he spiraling because of the custody case?” Trevor asks, visibly softening just a touch.

“He says he didn’t send any of these. And he doesn’t remember anything after getting home, either.”

“Alex…”

“Someone did this to us,” Alex says. “It doesn’t make any sense otherwise.”

He sees the skepticism working Trevor’s expression.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Alex adds. “In fact — are you okay hanging with Chase for a little while longer?”

“What? Where are you going now?!”

“To the hospital. I’m going to get a blood test before whatever’s in my system wears off.”

“What? Are we in a spy movie now?” Trevor questions.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Alex says, as he lovingly touches a hand to his husband’s shoulder, “but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to prove to you that I’m telling the truth.”

—–

Jason does his best to keep his driving under control, but the entire world seems to move in frustrating slow-motion as he pilots his way to the courthouse. He parks toward the back of the lot, checks the time yet again, and rushes up to the building. In the front doors, he can see his reflection; he does not look as polished and put-together as he might like, but he found his way into a suit and tie and managed to run a comb through his hair before leaving the house.

Thankfully, security is virtually empty, and it takes him only a minute to sail through it. He finds his mother in the corridor outside the assigned courtroom.

“There you are,” Paula says, exhaling with relief. “Did you have to leave your car?”

“I’ll explain later,” Jason says. The last thing he wants is to draw attention to his flat-tire story or have anyone putting pieces together. “They haven’t reconvened yet, have they?”

Paula shakes her head, and the two of them go into the courtroom. Jason feels every eye in the place on him as he swiftly joins his legal team.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. They chat quietly for a few moments as the attorneys bring him up to speed; Jason can sense Spencer and Natalie’s glares boring into him from across the room.

The rap of the judge’s gavel calls the courtroom to order.

“Mr. Fisher. I’m glad that you could join us,” she says, in a tone that causes Jason’s nerves to spike.

“Your Honor, I am so sorry. I got here as fast as I could, given the circumstances,” Jason says contritely.

“A flat tire isn’t something that you have control of,” the judge says. “Is everyone ready to begin now?”

At the other team’s table, Elly stands up.

“Your Honor, while it’s wonderful that Mr. Fisher made it to court today,” she says with a note of haughtiness in her voice, “we’ve just come into possession of some information that you need to see before this hearing proceeds.”

Jason looks over in complete confusion. Only now does he notice the pleased smirks that Elly, Spencer, and Natalie all seem to be wearing.

END OF EPISODE 988

What information is Elly about to reveal?
Will Alex convince Trevor of the truth?
How should Brent handle Claire and Molly now?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

 

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