Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia and Natalia
Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Phillip Spaulding, Gus Aitoro, Doris Wolfe, and Remy Boudreau are owned by Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other entity. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Chapter 8 consists of 9 updates that will be presented in smaller segments than what you're generally accustomed to receiving. I find this to be the most prudent presentation because, while there is an overarching theme, each major segment has its own specific purpose. The segments will be posted weekly over the course of several weeks, which will allow me to continue providing you all with regular updates through the end of my semester. I will endeavor to post on the same day each week. Dialogue in this chapter is original, with the exception of the 3.16.2009 confrontation between Natalia and Phillip. Some of the dialogue from this scene has been altered to suit areas where this story has diverted from canon.
Rating: Chapter 8.9 is rated R for extremely coarse language and some homophobic slurs. Again, they are reasonable given the context of the scene, and are absolutely not taken lightly.
I'll be back later this weekend to respond to all of your fabulous comments! But for now, please know that I appreciate each and every one of you.
Hope you all enjoy the final section of Chapter 8…
Regards—
Kimberly
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May, 2009
"In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins. Not through strength, but through persistence."
Anonymous
Chapter 8.9 – Confessions and Confrontations | Comeuppance and Candor:
Monday Afternoon—the Beacon…
Still running on her adrenaline from their weekend of seemingly endless skirmishes, Olivia sauntered into Watershed Monday afternoon, calm and collected, yet poised for battle. Only this one, she would win—hands-down.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Spencer," Diane said, cheerily. "How are you?" Her attorney had told her to play it cool—the hotelier had no grounds to fire her based upon her behavior while off the clock.
Baffled by the greeting, Olivia stared at her in bewilderment. Had the woman been that so intoxicated on Saturday evening, that she'd forgotten the tirade that had landed her in jail? Well, if she had, she was in for one rude awakening. "I'm well, thanks," Olivia replied, almost curtly. "I'll be better in a few minutes," she mumbled under her breath.
"What was that?" Diane asked, seeking clarification.
"Oh, nothing," Olivia replied, noncommittally, as she parked herself on her favorite barstool. She set her ammunition—Diane's personnel folder—as well as her Sunday edition of the Springfield Journal on the bar in front of her.
"Coffee?" Diane offered.
"No. Thank you," Olivia answered.
"Martini?" Diane knew the hotelier couldn't resist.
"I think you had more than enough for both of us Saturday night," Olivia snapped.
The sharpness in Olivia's tone caused Diane to flinch. While she had a reputation for being a world-class bitch, the hotelier was usually civil to her. "I, um... I'm really sorry about the scene I caused, Ms. Spencer," she hedged; despite the fact that she felt not one ounce of remorse. "I was really drunk. I know that's no excuse," she quickly conceded, raising her hands in surrender. She was a master at playing this game. "I just… I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect toward you."
"I'm not the one you owe an apology," Olivia said, forcing a civil tone and an accompanying tight smile.
Diane clenched her teeth. "My attorney has advised me not to speak with her regarding that matter," she said, too smugly for her own good. She would not now, nor would she ever, apologize to that fucking little dyke.
Olivia was incensed by Diane's condescending attitude. She wanted to kick that self-satisfied bitch's ass, but she held her composure, certain that a higher power would give render her comeuppance. "I trust that means there won't be any confrontations on company time then," she said. It wasn't an inquiry.
Diane shrugged her shoulders. "What can I do for you, Ms. Spencer?" she said, ignoring the warning in the hotelier's tone. Her attorney had warned her to be on her best behavior.
"It's more what I can do for you," Olivia said, sarcasm in her tone, as she pushed newspaper toward her head bartender.
"What's this?"
"It's the Sunday want ads," Olivia reported. "I've taken the liberty of circling every available bartending position in the tri-county area."
Diane blinked. "I don't understand," she said, blankly.
"Just trying to help you out a little," Olivia said, nonchalantly.
"But… I'm not looking for a second job," Diane replied, confused.
Surely, the woman wasn't really this dense. "Oh, this won't be a second job, Diane," Olivia said, voice dripping with disdain, "It'll be your only job, because you're fired."
"What?" Diane shrieked, disbelievingly. The idea that the hotelier would actually fire her was unfathomable.
"You heard me," Olivia said, sternly. "You're fired." Opening the file folder, she reached inside, pulling out an envelope. "Here's your final check—it pays you through the end of today," she said, slamming it down on the bar. "Including the hours you missed this morning because you were too busy being arraigned for attacking an innocent woman, to show up on time. Consider that a parting gift," she said, sarcastically. She snapped her fingers then, and pointed toward the door. "Now go clock out, clean out your locker, and get out of my hotel. There's a security guard waiting outside to escort you, to make sure none of the Beacon's property 'accidentally' slips into your bag while you're packing."
"You can't fire me for anything I allegedly said or did while I was off the clock. My attorney told me so," Diane said, smugly.
"There's no 'allegedly' to it, Diane," Olivia barked. "I was there, remember?" Damn it, she was pissed; but she bit back her anger. "But that's irrelevant, because this has absolutely nothing to do with Saturday night."
"Well, you can't just fire me for no reason," Diane argued.
"Huh," Olivia grunted, feigning perplexity. "Really?" she questioned; sarcasm dripping from her tone. "Because I believe I just did."
Diane eyed her, warily.
"And just for the record, legally, I absolutely can fire you for no reason," Olivia said, punctuating it with an arrogant smile. "Illinois is an employment at-will state, which means I can terminate your employment at any time, without any reason or cause," she informed. "But please believe, even if that weren't the case, I have more than enough reason," she taunted. "You don't want to work with a bunch of dykes and queers. I heard you say so myself—right outside the service entrance. So I'm just helping you out."
"But I didn't really mea—" Diane stopped mid-lie, and glowered wildly at the hotelier. "You were spying on me!"
"Correction—I was monitoring my employees, which is perfectly within my rights given that you were on my property," Olivia said, coolly. "And apparently, it's a good thing I did!"
"You can't fire me for that!" Diane barked. "It's a free country—I'm entitled to my opinion!"
"You are absolutely entitled to your opinion, Diane," Olivia agreed.
Diane's chest puffed up.
"But you're not entitled to slander someone's reputation," Olivia continued, quickly deflating Diane's ego. "Not once when you were accusing Ms. Rivera of sleeping her way to the top, did you use the crucial words 'in my opinion,' and that, my dear," she said, condescendingly, "is what makes your statements slanderous."
"You can't prove any of that!" Diane barked.
"I have every word on video, Diane," Olivia smugly informed. A self-satisfied smirk formed on her lips. "Haven't you ever noticed the security cameras outside the rear service entrance? You're lucky we don't sue you in Civil Court."
Diane's jaw went slack.
Olivia paused for a moment, soaking in the glorious smell of victory. "No worries, though," she said, preparing to deepen the wound, "Because even if Friday's slanderous diatribe about both Ms. Rivera's integrity and mine, as well as your loathsome attitude about working with gays and lesbians weren't enough," she lifted Diane's personnel file from the bar, shaking it in front of her face, "I have plenty of other documentation about your instances of insubordination and missteps to back me up," she seethed.
"I'll file for unemployment," Diane said in a snit.
"You go right ahead," Olivia challenged, poker-faced. Reaching into the file folder, she pulled out a Post-It Note and slammed it down on the bar. "Here's their number. I'll be at every single hearing, with witnesses in tow, and documentation in hand," she declared, pounding her fist down on the file folder.
"Even if I'm guilty of slander—which I'm not," Diane said, pointedly, "you can't use that to deny unemployment. So you've got nothing on me," she spat.
"On the contrary," Olivia countered, patting the folder full of ammunition. "I have an entire file here, full of write-ups and complaints, and time cards that indicate you're rarely on time for scheduled shifts… And the fact that you were late this morning was the final nail in your own coffin." She didn't find it necessary to divulge the fact that Doris had ensured the woman's arraignment would keep her from making it to work on time. And that wasn't all Doris had in the works for the homophobic little hothead. Yes, Olivia was changing; but sometimes it paid to have friends in high places. She was fairly certain Natalia would approve of the way she and Doris intended to handle the situation going forward.
"You can't use that against me," Diane argued. "I was in jail because you and your little lair of lesbians got me arrested!"
"We got you arrested?" Olivia emphasized Diane's chosen pronoun. She couldn't help but laugh. "The way I remember it, you got yourself arrested. And you owe me for saving you from getting your bigoted ass kicked!"
"You didn't save shit!" Diane barked. "I could've ripped that little dyke to shreds."
"The question is: why would you want to?" Olivia asked, pointedly. She already had a fairly decent idea—private investigators did amazing things for one's insight. But she was having far too much fun, playing this little game of "cat and mouse" with the woman.
The inquiry hit far too close to home, and the expression in Olivia's eyes told Diane she needed to be wary. Her heart began to race. "That's none of your fucking business."
"It doesn't matter anyway," Olivia said, dismissively. "The bottom line is you were on probation for being late, and I have your signature on a write-up, notifying you that any further violations would result in termination."
"I've signed dozens of those. They don't mean a damn thing! If they did, then you would've fired me ages ago," Diane challenged. She sounded rather sure of herself.
Olivia shrugged, nonchalantly. "You make a kick-ass martini," she said, with truthful humor. "So I was willing to overlook your… less-appealing qualities," she added, diplomatically. "But that willingness went out the door the minute I heard you open your slanderous mouth about Natalia. I don't give a damn what you say about me—I am who I am, and I won't apologize for it. But the moment you attacked her, you fucked yourself right out of a job."
"It isn't slanderous, if it's true," Diane said, pompously. "She fucked her way to the top, and everyone knows it."
Jaw clenched so tightly that it made her head pound, Olivia stood from the barstool. Her entire body was shaking. Heart racing, her eyes flashed with anger. She wanted to pummel the fucking bitch.
Taking a step backward, Diane's knuckles turned white from gripping the countertop behind her, as she stared, wide-eyed, at the hotelier.
Willing herself to stay calm, Olivia responded to Diane's accusation. "Natalia didn't fuck her way to anything. She earned it, by being loyal to me—even when I was a complete bitch to her. And by showing up on time, minding her own business, and working her ass off; doing her job with dignity. If I were you, I'd take a few lessons," she said, pointedly. Her admiration for Natalia saturated her tone.
"I don't need any fucking lessons from Little Miss Sunshine," Diane seethed through clenched teeth.
Olivia smirked, and kept her cool. "Oh, I wasn't suggesting fucking lessons, Diane," she said, sardonically. "I was suggesting lessons on work ethic and manners. But you certainly do have an active imagination," she granted. "I was already aware of that, of course, so I spent Friday afternoon obtaining signed witness statements from managers and other Beacon staff regarding your rather active imagination. I've heard all kinds of juicy stories—all conjured up in your twisted little imagination. You seem to get off on making up stories about people, don't you?"
Diane opened her mouth to speak, but Olivia halted her in her tracks. "Oh, wait—there's more!" She sounded like a hawker on a late-night infomercial. She ripped open the personnel folder, pulling out a stack of e-mails. She had long-since been forwarding the texts from the gossip squad to her Beacon account—for safe keeping, of course. Technology is such a handy little tool, she thought, craftily, as she proceeded to rattle off text after damning text—all sent from Diane's number, and nearly all sent during working hours; a fact which Olivia gleefully pointed out. Then, glancing up, she glared pointedly at the astonished bartender. "Shall I go on?"
Diane stood there, speechless.
"I thought not," Olivia snapped. "Now get the fuck out of my hotel!" Then, turning on her Gucci heel, she came face to face with a slack-jawed Jackie. "If you know what's best for you, you'll keep your mouth shut and get your ass back to work," she barked. "After what I heard on Friday, you're damned lucky I'm not kicking your ass out too!"
And with that, she stormed out of Watershed; heading straight for Natalia. She wasn't finished with Diane Martin. Not by a long shot. And she certainly wasn't finished with Jackie Hanson, either. But Diane's true comeuppance would take time to orchestrate, and Jackie could prove rather useful to her in her endeavors; and thus, Olivia would tolerate her until she had served her full purpose.
Monday Evening—the Spaulding Mansion…
By early Monday morning, Phillip had inexplicably been sprung from jail; much to Olivia's agitation and Natalia's associated chagrin. When Emma went missing after school that same day, Olivia instinctively believed Phillip had taken her. Once Natalia finally understood the threat he posed, she wasted no time marching herself right into the Spaulding mansion to confront him.
Phillip glanced up over the top edge of his glasses as he heard her walk into the room. "Hello?" he greeted, setting his papers down on the desk.
"Hi," Natalia said, brusquely, "You don't know me…"
Standing up from the chair behind his desk, where he had been dining on a turkey sub, Phillip said, "Let me take a guess—Natalia Rivera?"
"How did you know that?"
"Well, your picture is all around the house with Gus and your son." He sounded as though she should have known that.
"So, you know who I am. I'm sure you can guess why I'm here." Her tone was sharp; businesslike.
"Olivia sent you."
"No. Olivia doesn't know," she corrected. She knew Olivia wouldn't be very happy if she knew; but she cast that knowledge aside, and focused on the reason for her impromptu visit. "I came to talk to you about Emma."
His deep blue eyes lit up. "How is she?" he asked, his voice softening.
"She's a wonderful little girl. She's happy. Smart. She knows you're home, and she really wants to see you."
"I would love that," Phillip said, sounding almost giddy. "How do we make that happen?"
"We can't," Natalia adamantly declared. "I urged Olivia when you first got back in town, to let Emma develop a relationship with you. But Olivia is terrified because of everything that happened."
"That's… understandable," Phillip conceded.
"Uh, yeah," Natalia grunted. "And Emma went missing earlier today."
The statement clearly upset Phillip, but Natalia was quick to reassure him. "She's okay. But for a while there, we both thought that you had taken her." The memory of arriving home from running errands, finding a frantic Olivia in her bedroom, loading a nine millimeter, while she rambled on about Phillip having taken their little girl, still rattled Natalia's emotions. Despite Olivia's assurance that she had a license and practiced often at the shooting range, they had argued about the gun—Natalia didn't want that thing in her house.
But Olivia kept going on about Phillip. "Okay, I said that he was gonna come back and take her away. No one would listen to me, so I'm gonna get her back!" She sounded absolutely crazed.
"Olivia, please don't be crazy," Natalia had begged. She was scared for all three of them.
"He has our little girl!" Olivia's anger toward Phillip was rising.
"All right, well you can't shoot him, because you're gonna end up in jail!" Natalia reasoned, albeit loudly and in great distress.
"What am I supposed to do? He's gonna take her outta the country!"
"You can't shoot Phillip—you'll be the one behind bars." The expression in Natalia's eyes halted Olivia's frenetic impulses. "And then where would that leave Emma?" She knew it was a low-blow, but she didn't see any other way of reasoning with Olivia in the moment. "I have no legal rights to her, Liv," she said, softening her tone, "and you know Alan would fight her being with me."
Her gaze never leaving Natalia's, Olivia set the gun down on the table. In that moment, she had never been more thankful for Natalia's levelheaded nature. Biting her bottom lip to stave off tears, she turned, pulling the lockbox from the china cabinet drawer. She put the gun in the lockbox, and twisted the key; promising to put it away later. Natalia nodded her agreement, and then they set about formulating a plan.
Before they headed out the door, Natalia pulled Olivia close. "Listen to me, all right?"
Olivia nodded her agreement.
"Everything's going to be all right," she quietly reassured, as she tenderly stroked Olivia's cheek. "We're gonna find her, and bring her home, safe and sound." She prayed that her assurances would come to pass.
Olivia fought back tears, and nodded her head again. "I love you, Natalia," she said, softly.
Natalia smiled, and answered in kind before kissing her tenderly.
And then with a gentle directive from Natalia to be careful, Olivia was off to the police station where she threatened Doris to get Phillip back behind bars, while Natalia went out searching for their little girl. She was immediately sorry for the outburst, but the expression in Doris's eyes told her she understood. Thankfully, Remy had found Emma. She was safe, but she had been on her way to visit Phillip—a prospect that frightened both women beyond words.
After they explained to Emma why it wasn't safe for her to visit her Daddy—especially alone, they took her home, thankful that their little girl was safe.
Despite her thankfulness though, Olivia was frustrated by the fact that Natalia tried to smooth things over with Emma when it came to Phillip, by suggesting that she make her Daddy a get-well card. "Why? Why do you do that?" she asked, as she paced the floor in their living room.
"What?" Natalia sighed. She didn't want to argue with Olivia—she just wanted to hold her.
"Try and smooth things over with Emma when it comes to Phillip, when you know his history, when you know I don't want him anywhere near her."
"Because that's hard on a little girl." Natalia reached out, gently grasping Olivia's biceps, as their eyes locked. "You need to let her love her father," she said, reiterating a statement she had made in the park where they found Emma. "And… figure out how to keep him out of her life."
Natalia's reasoning had reigned supreme.
"So you agree with me about Phillip?"
"I don't know Phillip, and I don't know that I'll ever understand what you went through," Natalia said, sympathetically, "but today, when Emma went missing, and I thought for one second that he took her, I wanted him locked up." The tension in her tone was palpable, despite the fact that Emma was safe, and it was echoed in Olivia's deep sigh, and the way she rubbed at the back of her own neck. "So we can't let him near her, until we are positive he's okay."
Olivia sighed again, feeling relieved to know that Natalia was truly on her side. "If ever…" Her eyes were locked firmly on Natalia's.
"If ever," Natalia vehemently agreed. "We have to figure out how to handle this."
"Okay," Olivia said, feeling her confidence return. "So now that you finally get it, how are we gonna keep Phillip away from Emma?"
It was that very question that had sent Natalia here—sent her to confront the threat against their little girl. She met Phillip with a resolute stare. "And I have never been that scared, and I finally got it. I finally understand why Olivia doesn't want you to have anything to do with your own daughter. I'm not saying that it can't happen, but I'm telling you, if you don't give this some time, and prove yourself, it will never happen."
"I appreciate your candor," Phillip said, sincerely. For once, there wasn't even a hint of smugness in his tone.
"I don't wanna make anything more difficult," Natalia said. "I just—I would like for Emma to have as uncomplicated a childhood as she possibly can."
"So would I," Phillip said, his tone begging her to believe him. "I love her very much."
"I love them both," Natalia said, with bold sincerity. And the expression in her eyes told him exactly how deeply that love flowed between the three of them.
With that, she gave him a resolute nod, turned on her heel, and walked out the door; leaving Phillip with a firm understanding of two things: Natalia Rivera was a force to be reckoned with, and Olivia Spencer had finally met her perfect match.
It had been a whirlwind weekend of confessions and confrontations—all of which left open-ended questions, and consequences to be faced. Would Olivia ever confess the truth to Phillip? Clearly, she didn't really need to—he already knew the truth. But she didn't know that, and so the secret held a crippling power over her. What impact might it have on her, the longer she kept the secret? Would Tracy choose to testify in court? And if she did, what impact would that have on Jen and their boys? What would it take to finally show Frank that Olivia and Natalia belonged together? Would Rafe eventually come around? If so, how long would it take? And what circumstances might arise, that would finally reveal to him the depth of Olivia's love for his mother? Sometimes life posed far more questions, than it ever offered answers…
Nothing happens in a vacuum. No word or action is completely benign. Everything holds some sort of relevance—it's really a matter of degree. So what would be the ultimate aftermath for all those concerned—at what price, comes the truth?
TBC…
Next: We're off to Martha's Vineyard, in Chapter 9: When Past and Present Collide…