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True, she gave the unemployed Sean free license to use her account for whatever he needed, but if he was buying romantic presents for some other woman... probably her irritating sister Leslie... then she has quite a few problems with this scenario.
"Plane tickets... clothing from Macy's... who is this Katharine Dexter woman?" Yolanda wonders aloud.
Before Yolanda can continue reading over the statement, she hears a knock at the door. Yolanda sets her wine glass on the coffee table and rises to her feet, crossing over to the door. Once she opens it, she is surprised to find Robert Bale looming in the hall.
"Robert," Yolanda says, running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it out. "What can I...what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for Leslie," Robert says bristly. "And Sean?"
"I don't know where they are," Yolanda mutters.
She subconsciously diverts her eyes, which she only realizes too late will give Robert a reason not to believe her.
"That's a lie."
"Fine, it's a lie," Yolanda admits. "Come in."
Yolanda pushes open the door so Robert can follow her inside. She returns to her crossed-leg position on the couch with her glass of wine. "You just missed her."
"So she was here?" Robert asks. "She missed her daughter's court appearance."
Yolanda shrugs. "I guess something was just a little more important."
"And what's that something?"
"Sean. Her husband," Yolanda says, smiling wryly. "You know, the one she's actually married to. Not the man she's just living with."
"Do you have a point you're ready to reach, Yolanda?"
"You screwed up your own marriage, but it looks like Leslie wants to fix hers," Yolanda says. "At any cost."
"Yolanda..."
Yolanda interrupts him, slamming her glass down on the table. "She's gone, Robert. She left for Paris with Sean so they could relive their honeymoon. And start their relationship over."
He enters the foyer, running into a cardboard box at the foot of the steps. Glancing around, Matt realizes that more things have been packed up since he was last in the house.
"Matt...you're home," Simon Holden says, emerging from the living room.
"Yeah," Matt says. "I was...at a friend's."
"Judging from how much time you've spent there, I wouldn't be surprised at all that you've made friends at the police department," Simon answers, making it clear he's not ignorant of what happened to Matt.
"I guess Michael called you."
"He did," Simon says. "And it's only made this easier."
"Made what easier?" Matt demands. "What's with all of these boxes?"
"I'm moving. My divorce to your mother is final, so...I think it's best that I just move out."
Matt's eyes go wide. "What about me? Where am I supposed to go?"
"I had a talk with Michael, and I think it's best if...best if you move in with him," Simon answers. "I gave you plenty of chances. And it seems you only respond to the kind of authority I can't give you. You're an adult now. So it's time to make some real, adult choices."
"I have been!"
"You're still doing drugs," Simon says, his attitude coarse. "I'm not stupid, Matthew. You haven't gone to college either, like you said you were going to. So if you don't make a choice to improve your life...then you can't live with me. And your mother agrees, you can't live here either. So you can live under Michael's rule."
Matt rolls his eyes. "My mother agrees? You mean the bitch who's locked up in jail?"
Simon grabs Matt by his shoulder and pushes him against the wall. "I don't care what she's done, do you hear me? You are never to speak about your mother in that way."
"You can go to hell," Matt says, shoving Simon away. "Move out! See if I care! But I'm done having you, or my mom, or my uncle tell me what to do."
As Matt runs out the front door like he's just seen a basket of scorpions, he brushes past Felicia Bale. She has been standing in the doorway, unbeknownst to either man, hearing their entire argument with a look of surprise and confusion.
"So..." Felicia begins, closing the door as she enters the foyer. "When were you planning on telling me about these new living arrangements?"
DARREN REYNOLDS' APARTMENT
Blake Thomas tosses the last pieces of his clothing into a suitcase and zips it. Surveying the rest of his bedroom, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed and sighs deeply. It's all come to an end. His relationship with Darren is finally over. Though it had been on life support for years, with all of the interloping of Jack and Chris, then Blake's affair with Aaron Maddock and subsequent relationship with Eric Hanley.
More of it has been Blake's fault than he'd like to admit, but at the core of things, it all relates to him and Darren wanting different things out of life. Things that he can't offer Darren right now. Like a committed relationship that would eventually lead to marriage.
How can Blake think about marriage? His life has been one screw-up after the next... he's not old enough, barely mature enough for that decision.
"You're all packed?"
Blake glances up and sees Darren hovering in the doorway. "I'll be out of your hair soon enough."
"That...that's not what I meant," Darren says, tripping over his words. He wants to tread lightly, keep another situation like their last argument from occurring again. "Where are you going?"
"Does it matter?" Blake doesn't mean to sound defensive, but it's not as if he can tell Darren he's moving back into his foreclosed childhood home.
Darren shrugs. "I guess not. I just...I thought we could be civil."
"Aren't we?"
Blake continues to ignore Darren, reaching for the moving box a few feet away from him. Darren stares at Blake intently, his eyes now focusing on the bandage covering Blake's neck. He also notices scratches along his arm... from what, he has no idea.
"Is that a hicky you're covering up?" Darren says, half-joking and half-serious.
Blake clenches his teeth, choosing once again not to speak.
"So you're going to stay with your new boyfriend, I guess," Darren continues. "Who is it? You seeing Eric again?"
Blake rises to his feet. "We're not doing this."
"You two looked pretty comfortable in that video. Maybe you got nostalgic watching it again, had another go-round."
"You know what Eric did to me!" Blake shouts, finally reaching his breaking point. "I didn't know about that camera! He played me!"
"Don't act like you didn't know what a creep Eric was when you hooked up with him," Darren says, shaking his head. "You played yourself, Blake."
Darren turns and goes out the room, slamming the door shut.
EMERALD PLAZA HOTEL
YOLANDA HOLLAND'S SUITE
"You're lying," Robert says, folding his arms as Yolanda does her best to ignore his piercing glare. "Leslie wouldn't have abandoned her daughter so that she could run off with Sean."
"Is that so?" Yolanda asks. "You've been living with her for less than six months and already you know my sister so well? Let me give you a refresher course. She was a drug addict. She abandoned her children once already, years ago. So who's to say she wouldn't do it again?"
Robert shakes his head. "This is jealousy."
"Excuse me?"
"You've always been jealous of Leslie," Robert says. "Everyone knows that. You were alone when she ran you out of town. And judging from the tabloids, you've led a lonely, bitter life ever since. Now this your chance to get back at her."
"She treated Sean with such disrespect," Yolanda insists, jumping up from the couch. "She lied to him about his son!"
"What in the hell are you talking about?" Robert demands.
Yolanda bites her lip, not wanting to spill the beans about Vincent's true paternity. Not just yet, anyway. She had nothing to gain from telling Robert that Sean wasn't really Vince's father. "When she was pregnant, she waited to tell Sean. Because she didn't know if she'd be a good mother. And look at the present. She isn't."
"It is so hard to believe Leslie could be related to such a hateful, spiteful woman like you," Robert says. "I feel sorry for you, Yolanda."
"Oh, you don't give a good kitty about me!" Yolanda snaps. "You barge in here with your self-righteous attitude, judging me just like my goddamn sister and I'm sick of it! You don't believe she left with Sean? You call the airline and you find out! I was getting so close to Sean until that bitch decided she wanted him back! Why couldn't you make her happy? You've had long enough!"
"Yolanda...this is pathetic," Robert says. "You need to get a grip."
Yolanda swipes at her wine glass, knocking it from the coffee table and causing it to slam against the wall. It shatters into what seems like millions of pieces, sprinkling the carpet. "I don't need to get a grip! I need you people to leave me the hell alone!"
"Maybe you should have thought about that before coming back to Marquette Cove," Robert tells her, heading out the door.
MATA HARI'S
Kyle Maddock can still hear the voice of an irritated customer ringing in his ears. It has been that way since he started his job at Mata Hari's, hearing the banal voices of these pedestrian idiots coming into his restaurant and driving him batty.
"Forget the bitch, Elan," Kyle says, before stopping himself. "Kyle. Kyle you idiot. Your name is Kyle, not Elan."
He leans his head against his office door, feeling his heart pounding at an accelerated rate. Ever since he changed his name... changed his face... he's been unable to reconcile the loud voices in his mind. Kyle's life as Elan had always been empty, depressing, going nowhere. He can't count the number of times he'd tried committing suicide, only to freak out at the sight of so much blood from his slit wrists, or to panic when he felt his lungs filling up with gas from his car.
He wanted to remove himself from his miserable, pathetic life... but he wasn't even strong enough to do that. It wasn't until he met Kyle that he finally found some sort of strength. Kyle was the strongest person he knew. He could stand up to their boss. He always spoke his mind. Never backed down from a fight. It only took a moment for Elan to fall in love with him. And when he was killed... Elan saw an opportunity to show his love in the most ultimate way possible. He was going to become Kyle.
And he finally found the strength to slash his cheek open and rip the flesh from his face. He found the strength to endure facial surgery... and the photograph that the doctors had was that of Kyle. The image Elan wanted to become. From that moment on, Elan no longer existed. He is now Kyle. And he does his best to ignore that nagging, shrill voice that keeps try to bring up memories of who he used to be...
"Shut up!" Kyle shouts, storming over to his desk and ripping a tiny bag of cocaine from his pocket. Not even bothering to produce lines from the cocaine, Kyle grabs a drinking straw from the edge of his desk and shoves it into the plastic bag. He snorts the coke into his right nostril first, then moves on to his left. As the powder enters his nostrils and shoots through his nervous system, he slams his hand down on the wooden desk and takes a deep breath.
There... he's fine now. The voices have subsided.
"You're fine, Kyle," he whispers aloud. "You're just..." A knock at the door interrupts his soliloquy. Kyle wipes away a trickle of blood from his nose and leans against his desk. "Come in!"
Kyle is pleasantly startled when his son, Matt, enters the office. He has a dejected look on his face. One that Kyle has unfortunately grown to associate with his son's demeanor.
"Matthew...what are you doing here?" Kyle asks, his voice a steep contrast to how it was earlier.
"Jessica said you were downstairs...I...I didn't know where else to go," Matt says softly. "My life's kind of a mess."
"Is something wrong?"
"Everything's wrong," Matt says. "And I was wondering...if, maybe you had some room in your hotel suite...just for a couple days, I mean..."
Kyle eagerly steps forward. "You want to stay with me?"
"Just for a couple days," Matt repeats. "It's not a permanent thing."
"Of course," Kyle says, grabbing Matt and pulling him into a reluctant embrace. Kyle ignores Matt's squirming, taking this in with all of the joy he's reserved for the moment for when he can finally reunite Kyle's... reunite his family.
And it will become that much easier once I've killed Aaron Maddock...
HOLDEN HOME
"That's a good question," Simon says, greeting Felicia coldly. "You'd need to be here for me to tell you anything, wouldn't you?"
Felicia takes this in, knowing Simon is correct. But she's had a lot on her plate, none of which has been helped from his recent attitude toward her. Treating her like a porcelain doll that could break at any moment, and spurning her advances, shaming her with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," Felicia says weakly. "I've been busy helping Rebecca with wedding plans and... it just seems like my family's been going through one crisis after another."
Simon feels the slightest bit guilty for attacking her. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't..."
"I just don't know where my head's been," Felicia says. "One minute I want to make things work with Robert... the next minute all I can feel is hatred and anger toward him for what he's done to our son."
Felicia crouches down, running her fingers along the duct tape transfixed to one of the cardboard moving boxes.
"So...where does this leave me?"
"You're Valerie's sister," Simon says. "You'll always have a place here. But I signed the mortgage over to Valerie the first time we separated. This isn't my home. Not legally."
"I think this is the last place I should be when she gets out of prison," Felicia says. "Whenever that happens. Or have you forgotten that she framed me for causing Melissa's miscarriage? That she got Robert to forge my father's will and cut me out of it?"
Simon scoffs. "Those two make a rather formidable team, don't they?"
She nods. "If they didn't hate each other so much now, I'd be worried about the damage they could cause. Robert is full of so much anger these days... and Valerie... she has every right to hate us."
"We haven't done anything wrong," Simon insists. "This is all her doing. She knows that."
Felicia shakes her head adamantly. "It doesn't work that way. I could try blaming Robert for everything that's happened to us...but it's partly my fault. No relationship can fail due to just one person's mistakes."
"Don't start developing a martyr complex on me."
"It's a wonder Robert ever forgave me for... for what happened to our first child," Felicia says, staring off into the distance. She can feel old memories being dredged up inside, hurtling toward her at the speed of lightning.
"Alec?" Simon furrows his brow in confusion.
"No...his brother," Felicia answers. "His twin brother, Billy."
Simon is completely floored. "Alec has a twin brother?"
"He would have...if I hadn't accused Robert of having an affair on our honeymoon," Felicia insists. "The pregnancy threw my hormones out of whack... caused me to become paranoid and mistrustful. I followed Robert on a walk one night, even though my pregnancy had become difficult at that point. And I slipped. I fell and...there was blood. There was so much blood."
Felicia's eyes glaze over as she speaks, still cradling the cardboard box.
"At the hospital, we had to make a decision... I had to make the decision to terminate one of the twins," Felicia admits. "And so that was when we had to say goodbye to our little boy. We'd named him after Robert's father, William Bale." Felicia sighs loudly. "It was so devastating when I gave birth to Alec in New Orleans, on our honeymoon. What should have been the happiest moment of our lives was shrouded in despair and sadness. Robert broke down into uncontrollable tears... and he blamed me as we buried Billy in a small graveyard just outside the hospital. And rightly so."
Simon moves toward Felicia, crouching next to her. "Felicia, you can't blame yourself for something like that."
"Robert did," Felicia says. "And when we got home...that's when the affair with Melissa started. So you see… Robert's infidelity, his inability to commit to any kind of relationship is all my fault."
"Don't ever blame yourself for Robert's idiocy," Simon snaps, grabbing hold of Felicia's hands. "That is not your fault. And I need to stop blaming myself for Valerie's mistakes. For Matt's. We've both tried to give our family the best... our unconditional devotion. And we've gotten nothing in return."
"Nothing but each other," Felicia says, throwing caution to the wind and leaning forward, kissing Simon on the lips.
Simon eagerly returns her desperate kisses. And soon enough, he pushes her onto her back, rips open her blouse, and finally succumbs to months of pent-up passion on the foyer's hardwood floor.
