Previously...

Miranda found a picture in David's cabin of a young blonde girl with pigtails nicknamed Babydoll.  David told Brooke that she reminded him of Babydoll, a girl that he met in Big Bear some twenty years earlier.  Brooke wondered how her mother was able to afford the expensive clothes and furs she wore.  Roz tried to convince Brooke to go back to James.  David and Brooke shared a tender moment reflecting on his father's passing.  Brooke learned that her father had passed away of a heart attack.  On the way to Phoenix, Roz asked Brooke if she and David had slept together.  Benji and Sierra met at a polo match.  Immediately drawn to her, Benji asked her to accompany him to lunch the following day.  Later, Renee cautioned her daughter against being friends with Benji.  Alex tried to buy Kelly off, who became angry with Stormy for not standing up to his mother.  Kelly ran off and bumped into Brett at the marina, causing Stormy to become jealous.  Miranda continued to tell herself she was not interested in Eddie romantically.  Renee remembered that she'd seen Roz Taylor with Royce Jenner while on a business trip with her father.

Episode 81

"Now You Know"

The infant cried for the majority of the five hour drive.  Her mother stopped only when necessary, filling the tank on her beat up old Cadillac, feeding the baby her formula, and stretching her cramped legs.  By the time she reached the mountains, it was nightfall.  A shroud of trees enveloped the road on all sides.  The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating a giant wooden sign emblazoned with the greeting Welcome to Big Bear Lake, CA. 

She drove around for an extra half hour trying to find the remote cabin.  The winding roads that circled the lake seemed to lengthen the further she traveled, her baby’s cries growing louder and more heart-wrenching.

Finally she arrived, pausing only long enough to take in the opulent house nestled on the edge of the lake.  This man had it all, she thought to herself.  He had a string of houses and buckets of money at his disposal. Meanwhile, she was twenty-five years old and struggled to get by on a daily basis, living on the salary of a salesman and raising a six month old baby.  It wasn’t fair.  But she’d finally decided to do something about it.  She deserved something for herself and for her child.

Taking the baby in her arms, she made her way to the front door and took a deep breath before knocking.  Moments later, the door opened and the man stood in bewilderment. 

“Roz….” he stammered, glancing nervously behind.  “What are you doing here?”

“We need help,” she said, shifting the baby in her arms.

Royce Jenner stood in the doorway, his worst nightmare about to come true….

By the time they arrived in Phoenix, Brooke was ready to get on with things.  She needed to have the opportunity to say goodbye to her father.  She needed closure and she also needed time away from her mother.  After the seemingly endless plane ride, she’d had enough.  So when her father’s dowdy sister, Margot St. Claire picked them up at the airport, she asked to be dropped off at home, deciding to forgo the funeral home until the viewing that evening.

Once inside her childhood home, she was flooded with feelings of nostalgia.  The holidays, the birthday parties, the school dances, even the day she came home and told her parents she was marrying Philip Whitacre, all seemed like only yesterday. 

She made her way through the house, running her hands over surfaces and picking up photographs and smiling at happier times when they were a family.  It was hard to believe that her father was gone.  In the kitchen, she saw dishes still stacked neatly in the sink, probably from the last meal he’d eaten before the heart attack that mercilessly took him from her. 

Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned, jumping with a start when she realized someone was standing directly behind her.  A shriek escaped her throat and she attempted to move back but he clasped his arms around her and looked comfortingly into her eyes.

“David,” she said, struggling to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a gentle smile.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, alarmed by his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” David replied, pushing a strand of blond hair from her eyes.  “You were so upset last night about your father, and I know things with you and your mother have been strained so I wanted to volunteer myself to be your personal savior.  I took my jet.”

Brooke managed a smile and wiped her eyes.  “Thank you,” she said.  “I do need someone to mediate between my mother and me.  She drove me crazy the entire way here.  She won’t quit meddling in my life.  She actually had the nerve to ask me if you and I had slept together.”

“She definitely isn’t my biggest fan,” David said and looked around the living room.  He picked up a photo and stared briefly at it.  “I’m sure she’ll love the fact that I showed up here.  Is this your father?”

Brooke nodded and looked over his shoulder.  Tears came again and she quickly wiped them away.  “Yes,” she said. “Mick Taylor, insurance salesman.”  She waked away, nodding to a line of fishing trophies on the fireplace mantle.  “These were all he had.  Well, besides my mother and me.”

“That’s more than a lot of people have,” David reminded her.  “He loved you.  Just take a look around at all the photographs.  I’ve counted ten already and I’ve only been in two rooms.”

“Yeah, it just seems like all he’s done for his entire life is work himself into the grave,” she said with an apologetic shrug.  “Work to support me and to support my mother.  My mother especially.  I mean look around this place.  This furniture, her clothes, it’s probably all he could do to afford these things for her.  And she of course never worked a day in her life.”

“Fathers make sacrifices,” David said, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

Brooke turned and nodded.  “Yes.  They do.”

Miranda made her way down the stairs at the Blackthorne mansion, stopping on the landing when she spotted Kelly coming down the hall from the gym dressed in her workout clothes.

“What are you doing?” Miranda asked, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and glaring at the young woman.

“I’m going upstairs to take a shower.  I just finished a workout.  Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” Miranda spat, blocking her path to the stairs.  “The gym is for members of this family.  It is not for the help.  Ask next time.”

Kelly rolled her eyes and glared defiantly at her.  “I’ll use the gym whenever I feel like it,” she said.  “And I am not the help.  I’m here as a guest of my mother, and I happen to be sleeping with your brother, and starring in your father’s new movie.  If that doesn’t give me the keys to the family gym, then I don’t know what does.”

With that, she pushed her way past her and started up the stairs.  Miranda clenched her teeth and grabbed her arm. 

“Just don’t get too comfortable here, sweetie,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because once my brother gets tired of you, you’ll be out of his bed, and your career in Hollywood will blow up as fast as it started.   Do yourself a favor and go back to Hawaii.  Why did you leave, anyway?  I hear your fiancé was quite loaded.  That arrangement seems like it would be right up your alley.”

“What’s wrong, Miranda?” Kelly asked.  “Afraid that Stormy and I will beat you to the punch in giving your father a grandchild?   Maybe that foxy ex-husband of yours will knock you up again.  He seems to be quite the baby maker.  First you, then Heather, then-“  A pause while she covered her mouth in an exaggerated apology.  “Oh wait, you lost your baby.  I’m so sorry.  I forgot.”

Miranda bit her lip, restraining herself from attacking the woman.  The doorbell ringing broke the tension and Kelly offered a smile before flitting up the stairs to her bedroom.   Once she was out of sight, Miranda turned and stalked angrily to the front door.

“Hi Miranda,” Eddie said and walked into the foyer.  “Wow, you look amaz-“

“Stop right there,” she cut him off, raking her fingers through her hair and placing a hand on her hip.  “Eddie, you’ve got to stop coming around all the time.  If it’s not here at home then it’s at the hotel or Heather’s or wherever.  You’ve got to get it through your head.  I don’t want to go out with you.  Our sleeping together was a mistake.  I was lonely and trying to get over someone and you filled a void.  No pun intended.”

A moment of silence followed while Eddie registered her tirade.  Effectively hiding his disappointment, he pointed across the hall to the study. 

“Actually, I was here to see your father,” he finally said. 

Miranda frowned and threw her hand up in resignation.  “Oh, okay.  Well, sorry about all that.  I just…you know-“

An in an instant she was gone, barreling out the front door and as far away from the awkward situation as she could.  

Inside the house, James emerged from his study and saw Eddie standing by the door.  “Ah, Eddie, good, you’re here,” he said and gestured into the room.  “Come in.  I trust you’ve found something.”

“I think so,” Eddie replied and handed him a red folder.  “I couldn’t find any direct connection between Roz Taylor and Royce Jenner, but I did find some other interesting facts about her.”

“Bank statements?” James asked when he skimmed through the pages inside the folder.  “This can’t be right.  These numbers don’t make sense.”

“You said yourself that Roz Taylor didn’t dress like a lower middle-class broad,” Eddie said.  “This would be why.”

“But all this money…” James said in bewilderment.  “Thousands of dollars a month for years.  No way did Mick Taylor make this kind of money.”

“He didn’t,” Eddie confirmed.  “They were electronic deposits from a bank in New York.”

“Whose account?” James asked.

Eddie shook his head.  “I don’t know yet, but I’m working on it.  The monthly payments stopped about two years ago, followed by one large sum.  Two million dollars worth.”

“Two years ago?” James asked.  “That was right about the time Royce Jenner died.”  He rubbed his hand over his face and racked his brain for a theory that made sense.  Renee said that she and her father had run into Royce Jenner with Roz Taylor over twenty years ago.  Royce Jenner was dead, so the only person who knew the true connection was Roz.  

“Where are you going?” Eddie asked when James started out of the study.

“I’ve got a funeral to get to,” he said, darting out to the foyer and up the stairs.

Kelly stepped out of the shower in her bedroom, wrapped herself in a towel and walked out to her dresser.  When a knock at the door sounded she barely acknowledged the interruption, fully aware of who it would be.

“Kelly, I know you’re in there.  Can we talk?” Stormy asked from outside the door.

“Go away,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she sat down at her vanity and began towel drying her mane of black hair.

Choosing to ignore her foul disposition, Stormy pushed the door open and walked in anyway.  “Look, I know you’re upset with me but-“

“You can’t just walk in here whenever you feel like it,” she said angrily, her wet hair snapping through the air as she turned her head in his direction.  “I may just be the maid’s daughter, but I do have a right to some privacy, you know.”

“I know that,” he said and approached cautiously for fear of upsetting her further.  “I just need you to listen to me.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh and turned back to the mirror where she ran a brush through her hair.  “But if the next words out of your mouth aren’t I told my mother to go screw herself, then you might as well turn around and leave.”

“I told her to back off,” Stormy insisted.  “I told her that I loved you and that nothing was going to change that.”

“Then why did she try to buy me off with a blank check?” Kelly asked and turned angrily toward him.  “Besides, she said that the two of you hadn’t spoken.”

“She lied,” he insisted.  “Look, my mother is just going through a difficult time right now.  She was very excited about this role.  It was going to be her big return to acting.”

“Yeah, well that’s not my fault,” Kelly said firmly and stormed across the room to her closet where she selected an outfit.  “You and your father put me in this film and she is trying to make me out to be some kind of scam artist.  And don’t even get me started on your bratty sister.  She’s positively horrible to me.  I try to be so nice and all I get is slapped in the face.  Literally.   I’m sick of it, Stormy.”

“I’ll talk to Miranda,” he said and placed a hand on her bare shoulder.  “And I’ll talk to my mother again.  I promise things are going to change.  You’ll see.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a deep sigh, trying to appear unaffected by the feel of his hand on her bare skin.  “Maybe we should just cool it for a while.  It’s obvious the women in your family aren’t going to let up anytime soon, no matter what you do or say to them.”

“No, I don’t want that,” he insisted, running his hand down her arm.  All he could think about was driving up and seeing Brett lifting her out of her car after her spin out at the marina.  Images of Lauren Spencer and the deceitful affair Brett had coerced her into came flooding back to him, not to mention the way he swept in and married Heather after their divorce.  Sharing women had been a trend and he refused to let it happen with Kelly. 

“Well I don’t see any other way,” Kelly said, choosing her words carefully.  She no more wanted to break up than he did, but a well-executed manipulation of the situation couldn’t hurt to advance things to her benefit.  “I mean, this living arrangement is bizarre enough.  I live in your father’s house where my mother’s the maid and I’m sleeping with his son.  I guess if we were married it would be a different story.  At least then I wouldn’t let your mother and your sister make me feel like such an outsider.”

Stormy pulled her close and kissed her warmly.  “You are not an outsider.  I’m so sorry that you’ve felt that way.  I really do love you, Kelly.  I promise things are going to change.”

She managed a faint smile, wondering if her hint would sink in and he’d pop the question.  It was really the only way to cement herself into the world she’d entered into so quickly.  The wife of a studio executive wouldn’t suffer the same career lows that other actresses did.  Alex Reynolds had starred in dozens of movies mostly due to the fact that her husband at the time owned the studio.  Her career was etched in stone.  All she wanted was to be afforded the same thing.  Not that she was looking for a handout.  She would work as hard as ever.  But the in she’d have would make things all the more simple, and sticking it to Stormy’s meddling mother and sister was only gravy.

The viewing was scheduled for that evening at six, with the funeral services the next morning at ten.  Margot handled the majority of the arrangements herself as Roz had taken to a bottle of chardonnay and mood stabilizers in an effort to get through the ordeal.  Brooke decided she had to give her mother some credit.  She only resorted to pills and booze during the most adverse times.  When her grandmother died it was a bottle of White Zin and some yellow pills that her doctor had prescribed.  When Brooke announced she was marrying Philip Whitacre it was Pinot and Valium.  At least she knew her mother was genuinely heartsick.  Of course her drug-induced anesthesia could have also been prompted by David’s sudden appearance at their house.

“I don’t know why he’s here,” Roz said to Brooke in her bedroom upstairs as Margot flitted about, pulling suits from the closet and holding them up to inspect with her cat-eye glasses.  “He’s not even family, Brooke.  He didn’t even know your father.”

“He’s here as a friend to me,” Brooke said, arms crossed as she watched her mother tread across the high pile carpet in a pair of off-white Jimmy Choo’s.  “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t exactly have a lot of friends in Phoenix anymore.”

“Well you have me and your Aunt Margot,” Roz said and sat down on the edge of her bed, legs crossed.  “And that’s really all you need, sweetheart.  Not some rich high society snob like David Jenner.”

“I get it,” Brooke said adamantly.  “You don’t like David.  But he’s here and he’s staying so you’re just going to have to get used to it.  If he’s not welcome then I’m leaving.”

“All right, don’t get excited,” Roz said, her words slurring slightly.  She felt numb but still had her wits about her.  “Margot, what are you working on over there?”

“Where is Mick’s gray suit?” Margot asked.

“I don’t know.  He can wear the blue one,” Roz said indifferently and took a sip of chardonnay.

“We can’t bury him in a blue suit, Roz,” Margot said primly.  “Now I know I saw him wear it just last week.  Maybe it’s at the dry cleaners.  I’ll go call.”

“Aunt Margot, that’s okay,” Brooke said with a polite smile as she took the blue suit from her.  “We don’t have time.  The funeral homes needs us to bring this to them by four o’clock.  It’ll be fine.  Daddy loved this suit.”

Margot’s eyes teared up and she buried her face in Brooke’s shoulder.  “My big brother,” she sobbed.  “I can’t bare the thought of him not being here.  He was such a good man.  You know that, don’t you, Brooke?  You know that your father was a good man?”

“She knows, Margot,” Roz said with a roll of her eyes.  “Now would you please be a gem and take the blue suit to the funeral home for me?”

“That’s a good idea,” Brooke agreed and shot a look of warning at her mother.  “I think I’ll put on some coffee.”

“Fine,” Margot said and headed to the door.  “Maybe I’ll stop by the cleaners on the way just in case.”

Distracted by her mother’s obvious inebriation, Brooke had nearly forgotten another crucial item.  “Aunt Margot, wait,” she called after her.  “We need shoes.”

“Oh silly me,” Margot said and followed Brooke to the closet. 

“There’s a pair of brown wing tips on the top shelf,” Roz said, waiving her hand in an exaggerated gesture.

Brooke stood on her tip toes, peering onto the closet shelf and rustling around with her hand.  Once she had the shoes in sight, she handed them down to Margot.

“Those were his favorite shoes,” Roz said, barely looking away from her glass of wine.  “They went so well with his blue suit.”

Brooke shook her head in irritation over her mother’s behavior.  She turned back to the closet shelf, her eyes landing on a box that struck a familiar chord in her mind.  Upon further investigation, she realized it was the box of old photographs that she’d taken from her grandmother after her passing.  They stayed in storage in L.A. virtually untouched for years until Roz came to visit last year and took them home with her. 

Roz looked up at that instant and grew into a panic when she spotted Brooke lifting the box from the shelf.   “Brooke, wait,” she said, jumping to her feet, her glass toppling over and spilling the sticky liquid onto the floor.

“I just want to see if there are any pictures of Daddy,” Brooke said, struggling with the weight of the box.

“There aren’t!” Roz exclaimed, rushing across the room and trying to push the box back onto the shelf.

In her struggle, Brooke lost her balance and the box tipped to its side, its contents spilling out onto the floor.  Pictures and old clippings landed in a pile at their feet and Roz wasted no time in bending down to collect them.

“Mom, what is wrong with you?” Brooke demanded and sunk to her knees.  “I’ll get it.  I think you need to go lay down for a while.  I’ve got it.”

“No, I need to clean this mess up,” Roz said, grasping at stacks of photographs and throwing them haphazardly into the box.  In her haste, she began to feel light-headed, the effects from the pills and the wine hitting her like a ton of bricks.  She placed a hand on her forehead and felt the room spinning before it went black.

“She’s fainted,” Margot said in a frenzy and knelt down beside her. 

“Come on, let’s get her to the bed,” Brooke said with an irritated groan.

They lifted her to her feet and helped her across the room where she laid perfectly still for several seconds.

“I’ll get a cold cloth,” Margot said and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Brooke…” Roz muttered weakly as she regained consciousness.  “I’m sorry.  Your father loved you so much.”

By the time Margot had returned with the cold compress, Roz had passed out cold.

“She’ll be fine,” Brooke said.  “She just needs to sleep it off for an hour or so.  I’ll make sure she’s up and around in time to leave for the funeral home.  You go ahead, Aunt Margot.”

“First let me help you with this,” Margot said and walked to the cluster of photographs on the floor.  “She’s dealing in her own way, Brooke.  Just so you know that.”

“I know, Aunt Margot,” Brooke said with a meek smile.  She sunk to her knees and began placing the photos back into the box, glancing at every other one to see if it was worthy of keeping for herself.   Most were of family vacations in Flagstaff or visiting family in Scottsdale.  She placed a few aside and continued looking.  She came to one of her as a young girl standing on the dock somewhere.  The surroundings didn’t look anything like Arizona.  Too many trees and greenery. 

“Do you know where this was taken?” Brooke asked and flashed the photo to Margot. 

“Probably Big Bear,” the woman replied and continued organizing the mess.

“Big Bear?” Brooke asked with a frown.  She hesitated and shook he head in confusion.  “We never went to Big Bear.”

Margot nodded, distracted.  “Well, not since you were a little girl.  Your mother and father took you there every summer since you were a year old.”

“I don’t remember that,” Brooke said, wondering if this was some sort of strange coincidence.   She was suddenly reminded of a conversation she’d had with David some time ago about Big Bear...

“I thought you were someone else,” David said.  “Someone that I knew a long time ago.  That’s why when I saw you again that day at the police station I remembered the makeup counter.”

“Who did you think I was?”

“A girl I knew,” David replied.  “She was a local girl up in Big Bear.  Every summer my family would go there and she would always come around.  She was young, just a little girl, probably ten years younger than me.  Everyone called her Babydoll.  And before you go there, there wasn’t anything sick going on, so don’t even think it.  She was just a sweet, vibrant little girl who was full of life and laughter.  Blond hair and pigtails and blue eyes.  When I saw you you reminded me so much of her.  It took me back, that’s all.”

“It’s strange,” Brooke muttered to herself.

“What, Dear?”

Running her fingers through her hair, Brooke tried to wrap her head around the odd turn of events.  “It’s strange hat I wouldn’t remember.  I mean, I remember going on vacations as a little girl, but-”

“I think that picture was taken when you were six,” Margot said and smiled adoringly at her niece in the photo.  “That might have been the last year in Big Bear.”

Brooke pawed through more photos, discarding the usual birthday parties and Christmases until she came to another photograph with similar surroundings.

“Who is this that I’m with?” she asked and showed the picture to Margot.

“I don’t know,” Margot said and shook her head.  “Probably a friend of your mothers or fathers.  I got the feeling that they had friends they saw every summer when you were there.”

Brooke nodded, staring at the photograph of her posing on a dock with a man about her father’s age.  Only he wasn’t her father. 

Slowly, she turned the photograph over and stared with wide eyes at the scribbled writing on back.

Babydoll, Big Bear Lake, 1985

Benji pulled his BMW beneath the porte-cochere at Hotel Terranova.  Loud music blared from the stereo as he jumped out and handed the valet his keys.  Moments later, he was riding the elevator to the penthouse floor. He knocked and dug his hands into his pockets while he waited for an answer.  After a few short seconds, Sierra appeared in the doorway.

“Did you forget our date?” he asked with a frown.

Sierra immediately knew what he was referring to.  Yesterday she’d said she would meet him at The Ivy for lunch, which she blew off hoping he’d forget.   Still, she played ignorant.

“Date?” she asked.  “Oh, right.  Yeah, I’m sorry about that but something came up and I totally forgot all about it.  Maybe next time I’m in town, okay?”

He stopped her from closing the door on him, stepping forward into the foyer of the lavish hotel suite.   “Next time you’re in town?” he asked.  “Did I miss something?”

“No, like I said I just forgot.”

“I see,” he said smugly and watched her flit around the room.  “Is your mom home?”

Sierra nodded.  “Yes, she’s in the bedroom getting ready.  We’re going shopping.”