EPISODE #2011-101 Part #2
"Suicide?" Marley gaped at Donna from her hospital bed. "You think I was trying to commit suicide?"
Donna looked at Marley pitifully. "I realize now the position I put you in... the position you felt I put you in, when I confronted you about Lorna and the car accident."
Marley's eyes blazed. "I did not try to kill myself! And if I were ever moved to do so, it would not be over Lorna Devon! They tried to kill me! They made it look like I wanted to commit suicide. It's what they do!"
"They? They who?"
"The people you went on television to provoke, that's who!" Marley spit at her.
"They know better, Marley. They know I would destroy them if they — "
"Like anyone is afraid of you," Marley sneered.
"You are," Donna challenged.
"Oh, please. I have a lot of feelings where you're concerned, Donna. But, fear isn't one of them.
"For months you've been hiding behind Grant. Then you brought in Sarah. But you finally realized you couldn't hide from me any longer. Not after I told you I knew about what you did."
"What I did was go to the garage to take my car out for a drive only to find that all the doors had been tampered with, trapping me in a poisonous, gas-filled box!"
"No one tampered with the garage door, Marley. I was able to open it with no problems. It's how I found you. The firemen at the scene told me there was nothing wrong with your car; they were able to turn it off using the key you left in the ignition."
"That's because they made it look that way!"
"Darling, darling, I know how hard it can be to accept the horrible things one does in desperate times."
"The hell you do. The only thing you've done since the truth came out about Jenna is come up with new ways to avoid taking responsibility for your role in her death; from slitting your wrists to suddenly deciding that I needed to be saved from myself and that the only person who could do it was you. You are the Queen of Denial. You don't want to see what's happening here because it doesn't fit your fantasy agenda of being my hero. Followed, naturally, by poor, confused Marley seeing the error of her ways and forgiving you for the Hell you've brought to my life from the moment I was born."
"I'm going to help you, Marley," Donna promised calmly, as if Marley hadn't spoken. "I'm going to see to it that you get the assistance you need and that whatever consequences come from what's happened, you won't face them alone."
"Get out!" Marley wrenched her hands from Donna's grasp and shoved her away.
"Marley, calm down," Donna cautioned even as an orderly appeared in the doorway.
"Don't tell me to calm down! Someone is trying to kill me, and you refuse to believe it!"
"I want to help you!"
"You know how you can help me?" Marley taunted. "Put a bulls-eye on your chest and serve yourself up to the people you've wronged so they can have their revenge and leave the rest of us alone. If you can't do that, then I have no use for you. None!"
"I'm not going to be able to make your class today," Steven poked his head into Jen's office, briefly filling her in on Marley and the twins, who were currently being baby-sat by Sarah. "I just stopped by the computer lab so I could grab some stuff and work from home the next few days."
"I hope your aunt's okay," Jen said.
"Sounds like she's going to be. But, for a moment there, I couldn't help thinking about my mom... Bridget and Michele never knew her. Marley is more or less their mom now. It would suck for them to lose her, too."
Jen nodded thoughtfully, then blurted out, "Steven? Can I ask you something? I mean... No. Forget it." She waved her hand dismissively. "You're probably in a hurry to get home. Never mind."
"It's okay," he said, sitting down. "I got a minute. Midget prefer Sarah to me anyway. They're probably doing something with their hair or their nails or other stuff I'm not particularly well versed in. What's up?"
"GQ came to see me."
"Oh. Well. I'm not surprised. You two have a lot of things to work out. Did the jerk at least apologize profusely?"
"He did a little more than that. He pretty much offered to trade Hudson for me."
"What?" Steven leaned so far forward he nearly fell out of his chair.
"He said to prove how sorry he was, he was willing to let Hudson stay with Rick and Mindy, because he realized the kind of guy who'd do the stuff he did, hurt people the way he did, that guy wouldn't make a good father. Not right now, anyway."
"That doesn't sound like he's trading you for Hudson," Steven pointed out. "That sounds like he finally got around to thinking about what would be best for his kid. You've been saying it along, haven't you? Hudson is better off with Rick and Mindy?"
"I know. GQ reminded me of that, too. I know what I said. And I hear what you're saying. But, still, I just can't shake the feeling that GQ is doing this to impress me. Maybe it's only my ego talking. Maybe, subconsciously, I'm jealous of how Hudson's case has nothing to do with me, and I'm looking for a way to make it all about me. I don't know. There's a reason I chose cognitive science and not psychology to specialize in."
"I assumed it was because you wanted to practice quantifiable science and not theoretical voodoo. Or maybe that's just me."
Jen smiled at Steven's way with words — and opinions — before promptly returning to her natural state of constant worry. "I'm just scared that if I say no to GQ, he'll change his mind about giving up Hudson."
Steven's face darkened. "Did he threaten to do that?"
"No!" She shook her head. "No. Like I said, it's just this gut feeling I have."
"If you're scared of the guy," Steven pointed out. "Maybe you shouldn't be with him."
"I'm not scared of him. If he means what he says, then I think GQ is an amazing person for deciding to leave Hudson with his parents."
"If he means it," Steven repeated Jen's words back to her, hoping she'd hear her own ambivalence. "You have doubts."
"He wanted Hudson back so badly. This had to have been an excruciating decision for him to make. But, he bit the bullet and did it anyway. When it came down to the wire, he did the right thing. I can respect that. I could... I could really fall in love with a man like that."
"You mean you're not in love with GQ now?" Steven's tone proved strangely inflectionless.
"I..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "He's a good guy."
"The world is full of good guys. Hey, I'm a good guy."
"You are," she agreed. "Especially for listening to me ramble like this. Thank you."
"I didn't do anything. You look just as upset as before. Maybe even more so. Have you made up your mind? Did I miss it? Do you know what you're going to do?"
Keeping out of sight, Lucas stayed on the Love grounds not only until he was sure Donna had arrived in time to rescue and revive Marley, but also, from a safe distance, to observe the police as they went about cordoning off and investigating the scene. He was grimly pleased to note that they found every one of his planted clues, from the loose tree-branch that appeared to have smashed the window and bought Marley her extra time to live, to the fact that the garage door was now operating perfectly every three out of four times; which meant maybe it really did get inadvertently suck on Marley, and maybe it didn't. As for the ignition key, yes, it was a touch sticky. But, not so bad that you couldn't pull it out — if you were truly motivated, that is.
Only then did Lucas consider his job completed. He realized he should have been feeling relieved that everything went so well; Marley would ultimately prove no worse for wear, he was sure of it. Knowing what was to come, however, left Lucas feeling anything but.
He arrived home to find Felicia watching the story unfold on TV, Jeanne Ewing reporting for KBAY and pronouncing Marley to be in stable condition.
Without turning her head to greet him, Felicia said, "I know I should be feeling sorry for her. Marley has never done me any harm. I have no reason to wish her ill. But, all I keep thinking about is Donna finding her daughter barely alive. And the only word that keeps running through my mind is: Good..."
Lucas sat down next to her, picking up Felicia's hand to kiss it briefly. "You have every right to feel how you do about her. If there were any way to have placed Donna in that poisonous garage instead of Marley, I'd have been right there with you."
"This isn't enough, Luke. Anything that happens to her between now and the end of her rotten, miserable life, nothing will be enough to avenge what she did. And, what's worse, nothing will bring Jenna back to us.
"I know," Lucas said.
"I told Cass I was doing my best to let go of the anger. And I am. But, then, I see something like this, and it all comes back to me. Honestly, sometimes I'm glad the police have had no luck tracking down the driver who hit Lorna. If I had to face another person who put my child's life in danger, I don't know how I'd react."
"Thank God," Marley sighed with relief as Grant entered her room, collapsing into his arms, letting him gather her to him. "I couldn't have borne another well-meaning visit from Donna."
"I would have been here sooner," Grant apologized, giving Marley a kiss, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other carefully smoothed down her hair in a loving gesture. "But, Donna had me barred from your room. I had to appeal to Alice, who reminded Donna that you weren't in Intensive Care and allowed to have any visitors you wanted. I never considered how handy it might be to have a stepmother in high places. I don't know what I would have done without her. When I think of what almost happened..."
Marley offered him a weak smile. "I'm fine. A little carbon monoxide isn't going to keep me down. But, this needs to stop. It's the second time they've been able to get to me. What if I was taking Bridget and Michele somewhere, or Donna decided to work late? They... we..."
"Precautions for you, the girls, Steven, and Kirkland have been increased. I've got men securing every square inch of the Love property as we speak. There is no way anyone will ever get close enough to you to do harm."
"You said that before," Marley accused. "Maybe....maybe I should go ahead and take Carl up on his offer to — "
Grant's face reflexively flushed crimson. "No!"
"For God's sake, Grant. What has to happen to me before you swallow your pride and admit that what you're doing just isn't enough? That you can't control everything. That you can't fix everything."
"But Carl can?"
"Nobody's managed to attack anyone in his family."
"As far as I can tell, there's no ample proof that anyone has attacked you, either. At least not in this case."
"What?" Marley sputtered, stunned. "You think I was just taking a little nap earlier?"
"I had my men go over your car and garage..."
"And?"
Grant shook his head wordlessly.
"What does that mean? What does —" Marley imitated Grant's gesture. "Mean?"
"It means that there weren't any signs of tampering with the car or the garage door."
"So why wouldn't my key turn? Why didn't the door open? Why was I forced to use my gun to shoot out the — "
Grant's eyebrows knitted together. "Gun? What gun? When the hell did you get a gun?"
"After I was drugged. I wasn't going to just keep stumbling around oblivious, without any protection."
"I've given you protection."
"And look where it's gotten me," Marley laughed. "If I didn't have that gun so I could shoot out the window — "
"There was no gun at the scene, Marley. There was a broken window, yes. But that was due to a fallen branch, probably from the last big storm we had. Lucky thing, too. It kept the garage from filling up with gas as quickly as it might have otherwise."
"No," Marley shook her head. "I had a gun. I shot out the window. Someone had to have heard! Why are you looking at me like that?" Marley suddenly flipped from desperation to anger. "Stop looking at me like that!"
"Like what? I'm..."
"The way Donna looked at me earlier. The way that damned psychiatrist..." Marley began to sob, gasping, trying to regain control, slipping when she spied the concerned but skeptical look on Grant's face. "They talked to you, didn't they? My mother...the doctors....you think...you think that I..."
"No," Grant emphatically shook his head. "I know you didn't try to kill yourself. I also know that you've been under an incredible amount of stress these past few months."
"So? What? I almost accidentally killed myself?" Marley frowned at Grant in disbelief. "Of all people...of all people, you should know! You know that these associates of your father's and Carl's can make things look however they want! They know about my past instability. They'll use it to make my death look like an accident to the authorities while still sending a message to Donna and the rest!"
"I do know," Grant nodded, a part of him more than happy to cling to that option even as the rest of him...
"But you don't believe that's what happened here. You believe..." Marley closed her eyes, tears falling. "I didn't try to kill myself. I would never do that to the girls. I would never, ever abandon them like that. I'd never leave them to Donna, for God's sake! And I'd never do that to you. Not after everything we've been through. I would never..."
"I know," Grant soothed, putting every ounce of conviction he could muster into his words as he took Marley in his arms again; she fighting him initially, then gratefully acquiescing, exhausted, scared, spent, no more words of defense left. "We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise. I'll get to the truth and make sure no more harm comes to you ... I won't ever make you doubt me again."
While Felicia went to call Cass and check if Morgan might know more about Marley's situation than what the media was reporting, Lucas picked up his own phone and stepped out into the driveway.
"It's done," he reported to Carl through clenched teeth.
"Oh, no," the other man corrected. "It is just beginning...."
"Now is the perfect time," Jeanne cooed to Matt over the phone. "Donna is distraught. She could use a friend's shoulder to cry on. Get to the hospital right away. And find out what Donna knows about Lorna's accident."
He found her sitting by herself in the waiting area, looking geared up for another fight — and already fatigued from just thinking about it.
Feeling guilty despite not having done anything yet, certainly nothing he should feel ashamed of — unless, of course, being thrilled to have this excuse, any excuse really to see her again — Jeanne or no Jeanne — counted as an offense, Matt offered, "Buy you a cup of coffee?"
She smiled weakly. "No, thank you, darling. I'm currently nursing enough adrenalin in my system to charge a small power grid."
"How about a walk, then? A change of scenery? I checked with Alice before I came in, Marley is out of danger."
"Grant is in with her now," Donna begged to differ.
"Out of physical danger," Matt got was she was implying. He held out his hand. "You need a break. Come on, take a walk with me."
"Does Jeanne know you're here?" Donna asked as Matt escorted her off the floor, into the elevator, and outside to the tranquility garden nobody with a loved one at the hospital ever found the least bit tranquil.
"No," Matt wasn't sure why he lied. Only that it felt natural and necessary. "And I don't want to talk about Jeanne." At least that part was true.
"What do you want to talk about?" she wondered idly, sniffing a fledgling flower bulb only to discern that it was too early in the season for fragrance.
"You. And how you're holding up."
"Why would she do it, Matthew?" Donna demanded. "Why would she do this to herself? Wasn't seeing what I went through enough? Why would Marley try to — "
"Marley tried to commit suicide?" Matt double-checked. "I thought it was an accident."
"She insists that it was."
"Then why would you think — "
"I know the signs," she reminded. "This relationship with Grant has brought nothing but heartache into Marley's life — precisely as it was with Victoria. Except I'm the only one who seems to realize it! If it weren't for him, she never would have...."
"What?" Matt prompted.
But Donna was lost in her own world, following her trail of thought to its inevitable conclusion. "It's up to me," she said. "I have to protect my daughter. No one else will."
"Protect her from who? Grant?"
"From herself. Marley is too far gone to see what's best for her. I have to take matters into my own hands. Do what must be done, even if she ends up hating me for it."
"Look, Donna, I'm not exactly sure what's going on here, but the only thing I do know is that any plan that starts with one person doing what they think is best for another against their will... it never ends well."
"I don't care," Donna swore. "I don't care what the consequences end up being for myself. Marley is my top priority right now. I'm doing it for her. She won't understand, I'm sure. She won't understand at all. She'll think that I... She'll be wrong. I need to do this. It's her only chance. The same way that it was for me."
"Thanks, Morgan," Cass hung up the phone and filled in Frankie, "Morgan says Marley is expected to make a full recovery. Donna thinks she tried to commit suicide. Marley is insisting someone tried to kill her."
"That's ominous," Frankie observed. "You going to call Felicia back and let her know?"
"In a minute," Cass tapped the now shut cell-phone slowly against his chin.
"Okay, Winthrop, now you're the one who's thinking loudly. What?"
"Why would Marley try to commit suicide?"
"Goodness, Cass, no one ever knows the answer to a question like that. We have no idea what's going on in her mind or her life. Look at what she just went through with Donna. For starters, children of parents who've tried to commit suicide have a much higher rate themselves. And then there's Grant..."
"That's precisely who I was thinking of," Cass said. "Grant."
"Look, he isn't my favorite person, either, but I'm of the opinion that it's easier to break up with a man — even a possessive one like Grant — then to try to end it all. Marley is a big girl. I'd think she'd tell him to take a hike, first."
"What if she did? And Grant didn't take it well?"
"You think Grant tried to kill her for dumping him?"
"How many times did he try to kill Vicky?"
"Good point."
"But, no. I don't think that was the case. For one thing, Morgan said Grant's in with Marley now. In fact, she kept asking for him the entire time she was being treated."
"So why are we playing what-if games, then?"
"Because," Cass spoke slowly, still working out the details in his own head, taking stock of how they sounded to another person. "I think Grant may have had a better reason for trying to kill Marley — and making it look like a suicide, to boot."
"Kirkland," Frankie guessed, since they'd already determined that was the million-dollar answer to any question concerning Grant.
"Kirkland," Cass agreed. "What if both Grant and Marley know that Kirk was the one who hit Lorna? And what if Grant is afraid Marley might rat him out?"
"Why would she do that? Kirk isn't just Grant's son, he's Marley's nephew, too."
"How close were you and I to turning Kirkland in for his own good? Marley might very well be of the mind that it's better for Kirk to face the music now, than suffer a lifetime of lying to Jamie and Lorna. You remember how Marley grew up. She knows how toxic family secrets can be. If Grant intuits that she feels this way, he might not trust her to keep her mouth shut."
"So you think he tried to shut if for her?"
"Who better? Donna believes Marley tried to commit suicide? You said it yourself, with Donna's history, naturally, she's going to go there first. Plus, how hard would it be for Grant to set the whole thing up? He has access to the house, to Marley, her car. Hell, for all we know, he's been whispering in Donna's ear for months about how depressed and unstable her daughter has been lately. And now he gets to play the supportive boyfriend all without anyone being the wiser."
"Well," Frankie said. "Not exactly anyone...."
Cass grinned. "Winthrop & Winthrop Investigations is on the case?"
"Without being asked?"
He reminded, "That is our specialty...."
The last person she ever expected to see there was standing at Lorna's front door — and refusing to go away, despite her best threats and invectives.
"What?" A fed-up Lorna flung open the door. "What do you want, Donna?"
"I'd like to speak to you," she stepped inside without being invited, removing her gloves and turning around. "About your accident."