"You want to make amends, Julian?" Ivy scoffed. "What on earth does that mean? Haven't you caused this family enough pain already—not to mention your sister?"
"Julian and I have worked things out, Ivy," Sheridan said softly as she rose up from Luis's lap.
"Yes, we have." Julian bowed his head. "I'm not proud of the way I've treated her, but I've realized the error of my ways."
"Well, what about the rest of the Lopez-Fitzgerald family? You've behaved quite poorly toward them over the years." Ivy perched her hands on her hips. "And what about Ethan? You disowned him as your son. Do you really need to ruin his Thanksgiving, too?"
Julian narrowed his eyes on Ivy. "I deeply regret what happened with Ethan, but you have to admit that you started that situation, darling."
"Please, this is Thanksgiving—just stop this!" Pilar massaged her temples. "My husband is finally home, and I will not have anyone ruin this day. So, please, just stop your fighting or leave."
"Pilar's right," Ethan said, crossing the room to her. "So, Father . . . I mean, Julian . . . please just say whatever you have to say and then leave us all in peace."
"I wish I'd never let you walk out of your mother's bedroom that night, Ethan," Julian said. "And I didn't mean to disturb any of you today."
Julian dug into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "I just came over to give this to Martin."
Martin wheeled his chair over to Julian and took the envelope Julian was offering. "What's this?" Martin asked, opening the envelope and pulling out a check and a piece of paper.
"It's the deed to your house." Julian frowned softly. "I know this doesn't even begin to make up for the years of torture that my family has put yours through, but I've paid off the remains of your mortgage. The house is now yours, free and clear."
Pilar gasped; Ethan raised one brow. Miguel and Theresa smiled.
"As for the check, that's all of the back pay we Cranes owe you," Julian explained. "Please, Martin, just take it."
"Julian, I can't accept this," Martin started.
"Martin, there aren't any strings attached to this money," Julian said, his voice filling with sincerity. "Why don't I just leave the check with you so you can mull everything over?"
"I don't know . . ." Martin said. "This just doesn't feel right to me."
"Why not? You've certainly earned this money," Julian said. "You spent years as my father's prisoner."
"Yes, but I wasn't working for him . . ."
"Still, you ended up in that position because you tried to help my mother and my sister," Julian insisted.
Martin looked at Sheridan. "I would do it all over again."
Sheridan blinked back tears; Luis embraced her from behind.
Julian smiled softly at his sister and then turned back to Martin. "Please, Martin, just take the check and think about it. There's no rush to decide whether or not you want to cash it. Follow up with me whenever you like."
Julian nodded at everyone and started toward the door.
"No, Mr. Crane, please don't go."
All heads turned to Pilar.
"I . . . I mean, this is so generous of you—you've done so much already," Pilar said. "Giving Luis and Sheridan the evidence they needed to restart the search for my Martin . . . helping save their lives down in Mexico . . . please, I'd like for you to stay."
"Thank you, Pilar, but I couldn't impose," Julian said.
"You're not imposing," Pilar insisted. "I was just about to serve dessert. Please consider joining us."
"Yes, Julian, please do." Luis stepped forward and dug his hands into his pockets.
Everyone turned from Pilar to Luis; several mouths fell open.
"You're Sheridan's brother," Luis said, shifting on his feet. "I know that, lately, you've been trying to change. . . . I would like it if you stayed, too."
"Very well then . . ." Julian stammered. "If you all insist . . ."
Sheridan stepped up behind her husband and slipped her arms around his chest. "Oh, Luis, I love you so much," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
Luis picked up her hand and kissed it. "Sheridan, I love you, too."
Hank stormed back into the house and slammed the door behind him. "Well, thanks a lot for that!"
"Thanks a lot for what?" Sam asked, glancing at Grace. "The two of us didn't do anything."
Grace stepped out from behind her husband. "Did you find her, Hank?"
"Yeah, I found her." Hank dug his hands into his pockets. "But she's not sure if she wants to be with me anymore. She's afraid that being with me will strain my relationship with all of you."
"Hank, that's not true." Grace smiled sadly at her brother-in-law. "I can understand why she might think that, but I've come to terms with everything that happened. Not that I don't grieve for my baby every single day, but there were a million things that went wrong that night—almost as if evil had taken over Harmony. Gwen may have helped her mother provide Ivy's letter to the tabloid, but she's not responsible for everything else that happened. If Sam had just told me the truth in the first place, none of this would have happened."
Sam hung his head. "What Grace is saying is true. There are several people who contributed to Ethan's paternity coming out in the way that it did, but, first and foremost, I'm at fault."
"And holding on to blame isn't doing anything good—nor is withholding forgiveness," Grace said softly, placing her hand on her husband's chest. "It may have taken me a while, but I finally see that. As long as you and I are honest with each other, Sam, that's all that matters from here on out."
"I promise that I will never keep a secret from you again," Sam said. "You have my word on that."
"You know—I don't know why you're always calling me a screw-up when it's clear you're no angel," Hank said.
"I never called you a screw-up, Hank," Sam protested. "I was just trying to encourage you to get your life back on track. And the whole thing about me not being able to hire you—Hank, my hands are tied by the law. I thought you understood that."
"Right, right . . . I've heard it all before."
"Hank . . ."
"Save it, Sam." Hank threw his hands up in the air. "I'm really not in the mood for another argument with you."
Gwen grabbed a pint of ice cream and hurried over to the register. The sooner she paid for this, the sooner she could rush home and curl up on the couch with it. Maybe it wasn't the best thing in the world to throw herself a pity party, but, right now, she didn't care.
God, why had she let herself fall so quickly? Why hadn't she guarded herself against Hank? She knew going in that this was how it could end—why did she take the chance?
"Oh, excuse me. I'm sorry," Gwen said, nearly walking into the person in front of her.
"No problem—it's okay. . . . Gwen, what's the matter?"
Gwen's breath caught in her throat as she looked up to find Ethan right in front of her, carrying a similar tub of ice cream.
"Ethan, what are you doing here?" Gwen fell back on her foot. "It's almost eleven o'clock."
Ethan bit down on his lip and glanced down at the ice cream. "You probably don't want to know that . . ."
"Theresa's pregnant, isn't she?"
Ethan shifted on his feet, his eyes darting about the room.
Gwen gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God—I'm right. I was just joking, but . . . wow . . . I guess it's true."
Gwen sank down to the floor next to a display of holiday decorations and buried her head in her hands. "This night just keeps getting better and better."
"Gwen, I'm so sorry."
"No, Ethan, it's not you." Gwen shook her head and fought back tears. "I'm sorry. Please, just leave me alone."
"Gwen, it's obvious something is bothering you." Ethan sat down next to her. "I know I'm probably the last person in the world you want to confide in right now, but, if you need to talk, I'm happy to listen."
"I think you should go home to your wife, Ethan. She's probably waiting up for you." Gwen cupped her hands around her eyes. No matter what happened, she couldn't let him see her crying—she wouldn't let him see her crying.
Why wouldn't he just let her be?
"Maybe just let me call someone for you," Ethan suggested, "—maybe Sheridan or Hank . . ."
"No, Ethan, no!"
Ethan lurched back, almost dropping his tub of ice cream.
"Ethan, I'm sorry," Gwen cried, tears spilling from her eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just that Sheridan, she's pregnant and needs her rest, and, Hank . . . well . . . I think we're over . . ."
Ethan's cell phone rang.
"I . . . I'm sorry, Gwen, but I have to get this," Ethan stammered.
"I know, Ethan. I know." Gwen scrambled to her feet as Ethan flipped open his phone and greeted Theresa. Taking one last look at the ice cream in her own hands, she shoved it back into the freezer and rushed out of the store.
Why had things ended up like this?
How could she have fallen for someone in a family who had suffered so deeply because of a mistake she had made?
How could she have fallen for yet another man she couldn't have?
