Damaged Petals.

[Soapy]

"That’s like a Black school, right?"

It was forming on Brice's tongue just like his mammy.

Tom not a real one. Drive the business into the ground before you give Liz 25, big homie. Show her you tough.

Serena about to be on her Connie shit when Brice kicks her to the curb.

I know its a fool's errand but I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop and Serena to get dropped the fuck off.

I'm hopeful Sophie and Brice can mend their relationship. Them ending up in the same place would be cool.

Tom not a real one. Drive the business into the ground before you give Liz 25, big homie. Show her you tough.

Not the worst idea

That would be a pretty shitty thing to do at this point if you're Brice lmao

A positive outcome and outlook? What is this?

Y'all are terrible people

[Soapy]

Season 11, Episode 7
The door opened and the room went quiet.

Brice walked in with James on his hip.

Greg was already seated across the table. Diane was next to him, her purse on the table in front of her, her coat still buttoned. Their lawyer was already half out of his seat.

“Hold on,” the lawyer said. He was looking at Wayne, sitting across from him. “We weren’t told Mr. Colton would be present.”

“He was listed on the meeting invite,” Wayne said. He didn’t look up from his pad.

The Hayes lawyer laughed. “He’s been listed on every meeting invite. He hasn’t shown up to a single one.”

“Sounds like he should be in this one then.”

Wayne’s mouth moved at the corner.

Brice pulled out the empty chair next to Wayne and sat down, settling James on his lap. James grabbed at the edge of the table with both hands, his fingers splayed, and pulled himself up to standing, wobbling on Brice’s thighs. Brice steadied him with one hand on his chest.

He looked across the table.

Greg met his eyes for maybe two seconds. Then Greg looked down at his hands. Diane didn’t look away. Her eyes moved from Brice’s face to James’s face and stayed there.

“Fine,” the Hayes lawyer said. He sat back down and pulled his chair closer to the table. “But bringing the baby is a clear emotional tactic and it’s unprofessional. I’m asking that the child be removed from the room.”

Diane raised her arm slightly.

“It’s fine,” she said.

The lawyer looked at her. Greg looked at her. She didn’t look back at either of them. Her eyes were still on James.

The lawyer exhaled through his nose. He opened his folder and pulled out a pen.

“Alright,” Wayne said. He set his own pen down and folded his hands on the table. “We’re here today to discuss a proposed custody arrangement regarding James Colton. This meeting was requested by the Hayes family through counsel, and we’ve prepared a formal offer based on those discussions.”

He paused. Looked at Brice.

Brice nodded.

Brice shifted James on his lap.

“This is the best and final offer,” Brice said. "February through April, James can stay with you for extended unsupervised visits. Up to three weeks total. Scheduled in advance, coordinated through Wayne’s office.”

He paused. Greg was looking at him now. Diane was still looking at James.

“Once James reaches school age, two visits per year. One during spring break. One during the summer. Neither one longer than two weeks. Thanksgiving and Christmas stay with me.”

Brice paused.

“Full parental rights stay with me. All medical decisions. All educational decisions. All legal decisions."

He looked at Diane. She was still watching James.

“In addition,” he said, "A non-modification clause. You agree not to challenge this arrangement in any future proceeding."

"Unless there’s a material change in the child’s welfare," Wayne added.

The room was quiet after that.

Wayne slid the documents across the table.

Diane looked at James for a long moment. Her eyes moved over his face. Greg’s eyes bore into Brice from across the table and Brice didn’t look away. He held it.

Diane picked up the pen.

…

The nearest parking spot was near the back, three rows from the entrance. Tom cut the engine and sat for a second, his hands still on the wheel, the truck idling down to silence.

He opened the door and stepped out. The cold hit his face and he stretched, his arms going up over his head, his back arching. His shoulders popped. He held it for a count of three and let his arms drop, then rolled his neck left, then right.

He pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Three texts.

The first was from Brice. The second was from Dale, one of his drivers. The third was from a customer. He typed a response to all three and sent it.

He locked the phone and looked up.

Britney was coming through the glass doors of the extended stay, the duffel bag slung over one shoulder, her purse in her other hand. She was wearing a black coat, buttoned, her hair pulled back.

Tom crossed the parking lot and met her halfway.

"Hey," she said, "Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem," he replied. He took the duffel from her shoulder and she let him have it. He carried it to the truck, opened the passenger door, and tossed it behind the seat. She got in. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

He got in and started the engine. The heat was still on from the drive over. He pulled out of the spot and turned toward the exit.

“How’d it go?”

“Alright. Might have said five words.”

He glanced at her. She was looking out the passenger window, her hands in her lap. "That’s a first."

She turned from the window and punched him in the arm. He laughed and caught her hand and held it for a second before letting go. She left it there on the center console, her fingers curled loosely, and he put his hand on top of hers.

The exit came up. He turned right onto the main road and merged into traffic. The highway was ahead, the signs green and white, the afternoon light flat against the windshield.

His thumb moved across the back of her hand. She didn’t pull away.

…

The sangria was good. Not too sweet. Not too dry either.

Serena took another sip and set the glass down on the table, the condensation pooling around the base.

Sophie was leaning back in her chair, her sunglasses pushed up on top of her head, her eyes on the water. The beach was right there. Less than a hundred yards. Serena could see the waves from where she sat, the white foam pulling back over the sand, the gulls circling near the pier.

“I could get used to this,” Sophie said.

Serena laughed. “I have.”

She picked up her fork and stabbed into the salad. She took a bite and chewed.

“From what Brice has told me, though, we’re probably ending up in New York. Or Kansas City. Maybe Indy.” She set the fork down. “No beaches in any of those places.”

Sophie looked at her. “You’re not rooting for Indy?"

“Not really,” Serena picked up her glass again. “I’d like to experience something else. I think it’d be good for Brice too. Get him out of there for a while.”

Sophie nodded.

“You should keep that in mind, by the way. When you’re picking a school,” Serena continued, covering her mouth as she chewed. "I think new is good. Something different."

Sophie nodded again. She picked up her water glass and took a drink. Set it down. The ice clinked.

“How are you handling all of it?” Serena asked. "I know you’re probably tired of people asking you that."

"Yeah, a little," Sophie laughed. Serena laughed too.

"I don’t know, Sophie shrugged. She was looking at the table now, at the edge of her plate. "It’s okay. I guess I’m happy for my mom. In a weird way. It’s like she gets another chance at finding herself, maybe? Like figure out who she is outside of being like a mom or a wife. I mean, she’s still my mom, but you know. I think it’ll be different. Especially when I go to college."

Serena nodded. She took another sip of sangria. The fruit at the bottom of the glass shifted.

Sophie looked up. "Do you want to be a mom? Like have kids of your own? Like the whole white picket fence thing?"

Serena set the glass down. She didn’t answer right away. The silence filled the space between them.

“I don’t,” Sophie said. She was talking faster now, like she’d been holding it in. “I don’t think that would make me happy. Or at least I don’t think it would. I wonder if that’s what happened with my parents. Like, they did the thing and then realized they didn’t want it but by then it’s too late, you know? You’ve got these little people that you made that are now relying on you, on each other and you’re kind of stuck. Until they’re out of the house at least. And even then, you’ve just spent, what eighteen, twenty-something years doing this thing together and deciding to just stop? Like, I’m good? I don’t know, feels weird. Feels like a trap. Like something you won’t know you don’t want until it’s too late. I just want to live my life. For me, you know? Does that make sense?”

Serena looked at her. The wind came off the water and moved through Sophie’s hair, and she pushed it back behind her ear.

"That probably sounds selfish as hell," Sophie forced a laugh.

"I don’t think so," Serena assured her. She picked up her fork and moved a piece of arugula around the plate.

“I like living my own life. Hanging out with my friends. Even school," she paused, "But honestly? A nice quiet night with just me, Brice, James? I don’t know if anything else beats that right now. Obviously, raising a kid and a family is way more than that and it’s certainly not for everyone. Who knows, maybe it’s not even for me but I don’t know, I think there can be like some genuine rewarding feeling to knowing you helped raise a whole person into a human being. A good human being. Can anything really beat that, you know?"

Sophie was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded. They both sat there for a while, the only sound coming from the crashing waves.

“Brice told me you’re running now,” Serena cleared her throat. “So what’s his name?”

Sophie’s face went red. The blush started at her neck and moved up to her cheeks, and she looked down at the table and then back up, and she opened her mouth and closed it and opened it again.

"He’s in my chem class."

[Caesar]

February through April, James can stay with you for extended unsupervised visits. Up to three weeks total

Guy who is about to get drafted in the NFL which famously runs August-January just came up with a way to not have to have his kid with him during the offseason. So during the season, kid's with Liz. Offseason, kid's with the parents of the Headless Ho. Brice gets to play daddy once every so often.

For Liz's sake, let us pray this boy in Sophie's chem class needs SPF 45 or higher.

[Captain Canada]

kid's with the parents of the Headless Ho.

"Headless Ho".

Diane ain't got no more fight in her, huh?

[Caesar]

kid's with the parents of the Headless Ho.

"Headless Ho".

[redsox907]

dunno how I missed the update yesterday lmao

Brice strong armed the Hayes with a swiftness.

But judging by the exchange with Liz, Brice is taking James with him once he's settled. So he's just getting the offseason off and even then, it wasn't for the full three months. It was up to three weeks at a time, basically just a window for Brice to take a vacation

ngl, smart move on Brice's part. Feels weird typing that