Donut Discourse

Bridget came around the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Walking down the hall, she stopped in disbelief at the sight before her. Wondering if the stress over her activities with JoJo was causing her to see things, she closed her eyes for a few seconds. Upon reopening them, the backs of the heads were still the same. One was leaning back against the top of the couch, and a second head was placed on top of the first person's shoulder. To Bridget's sexually heightened state of mind at the moment, the position seemed quite suggestive.

Now tiptoeing forward, she peered over the back of the couch. It was indeed Sean, whose head was tilted back, but his mother felt relieved to see he was sleeping. Bridget's guess over the second head also proved correct; it was Whitney's that laid against his shoulder. The blonde wore her tiny, red silk robe that at the moment had shifted to show off all of her right thigh and an eyeful of her bra-covered breast. She, too, slept.

Glancing around, Bridget saw the other two couches each had a person asleep on them. She quickly recognized Peyton's old volleyball teammate, Ellie, and assumed the other girl might be her cousin, Cheyenne. Confused as to why her son wore a t-shirt and pajama bottoms while sleeping next to a half-dressed Whitney, Bridget sought answers. Hearing noises in the kitchen, she walked down there, seeking those answers. Inside she found Harvey working diligently at the island while humming.

"Good morning, Bridget. Nice to see another person up early," Harvey greeted cheerfully.

"Uh, morning. Say, what's the deal with that over on the couch?" Bridget asked, jerking a thumb up to indicate behind her.

"Sean? He seems pretty wiped out. Sounds like he had a rough night," Harvey replied, unsure why Bridget's eyes went wide at his words.

"With Whitney?"

"Whitney? What's she got to do with Sean?"

"She's over on the couch, half on top of Sean, sleeping," Bridget explained, growing more concerned as she saw an annoyed look cross Harvey's face. And when he tossed his utensil to the countertop to march over to the two teens, Bridget's stress level shot up.

Stopping at the side of the couch, Harvey studied the sleeping duo, then noted the cartoon playing on the television. His eyes took in his daughter's skimpy robe, causing a slit stir inside of him before he **** it away for now.

I might need to have a talk with her about wearing an outfit like that when everyone's around. I know she prances around back home in that stuff, but it's just me, and I don't...I used to be able not to notice. Dammit.

"I'm not sure if I should find this scene cute or should be worried about Sean's safety," Bridget commented from Harvey's side.

"Time to get up, you two," Harvey announced while gently shaking the sofa. He'd almost clapped his hand before remembering the other two sleeping guests. "C'mon, Yogi and Boo-Boo, time to get up. There's work to do."

"Ugh, what the hell, Dad," Whitney grumbled while Sean seemed genuinely shocked to discover the cheerleader captain using his shoulder as a headrest. "It's too early."

"Well, alright, Boo-Boo, I guess I better call the ranger station and tell them I'm sending over two troublemakers. They can put you two to work," Harvey threatened. Next to him, Bridget giggled at his comment while noting the old Hanna-Barbera cartoon played on the TV.

"Don't call me that! You know I hate it," Whitney ordered her father as she sat up on the couch.

"Why not? You love that old cartoon. We used to watch it all the time up here when you were little. You even called every ranger you met Ranger Smith." Harvey smiled at the memory.

"You know why! Because that's the name that Hunter used to tease me."

"Gee, I wonder where he got that idea," Harvey asked, looking up to the ceiling with a chuckle.

"Oh, probably when you told him you called Uncle Graham that as kids," Whitney stated in a huff, folding her arms.

"Well, at least Graham liked that nickname," Harvey responded. Bridget and Sean watched the father and daughter arguing in amusement. "Now, get up, pumpkin. You were supposed to be helping me make breakfast, not scaring Bridget into thinking you seduced her little boy."

Both teenagers' heads whipped around to stare at Sean's mother.

"I didn't say that. Although, I did wonder if Sean was the reason why you never came back upstairs last night, Whitney," Bridget speculated.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Ta--Bridget. Something came up. I hope you two weren't too upset at me for ruining the fun."

"No, we were fine without you," Bridget said with a slight blush. She scurried after Harvey when he returned to the kitchen.

"Where did you come from?" Sean asked the young blonde as they both stood up.

"You were already sleeping when I came into the room, and I wanted to watch Yogi too."

"But, I thought you didn't like--hey," Sean exclaimed as Whitney elbowed him.

"Don't tell my dad that; he'll just be proven right as always."

The two teens slowly wandered into the kitchen to see what help they needed to do.

"You're making donuts for breakfast?" Bridget repeated.

"That's what I said. You know I like to bake when I'm up here."

"Wow, that's a lot of work," Bridget remarked, looking at the mess in the kitchen that Harvey created.

"Aw, cool! What kind are you making?" Sean inquired, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Well, I'm cutting out some traditional ones with a hole right now. For the next batch, I'll make some Long Johns...actually, I think I overdid it. Might end up being three batches," Harvey admitted while looking over all the dough he made with a look of consternation. "Yeah, whatever. We'll have leftovers for tomorrow. They won't go stale in one day."

"Okay, so what else are you making?" Bridget asked, surveying the kitchen.

"Oh, I have some glazes to whip up, original and chocolate, plus several different frosting flavors. We'll also have powdered sugar, cinnamon, and sprinkles," Harvey replied, showing his excitement at all his work.

"No, I meant what else are you making besides donuts for breakfast?" Bridget elaborated as she grew concerned.

"Um, I think we have some leftover biscuits from the other day if anyone wants them. You know I'm not very good at cooking."

"Harv, it's great to see you so excited over baking, but I don't think too many people in the cabin will be scarfing down donuts." Noticing the look of disbelief on his face, she looked toward his daughter. "Whitney, help me out here."

"She's right, Dad. I'm not sure if any of the girls will really want more than one donut; if that."

"And us older women might not have even one. We have to watch our figures at our age," Bridget pointed out.

"Oh, come on. You've never had to worry about your figure, Bee. It's been fantastic for decades," Harvey remarked in exasperation.

"Why thank you, Harv, but yes, I do. This body takes a lot of work to maintain," Bridget informed him, smiling at his compliment. She moved over and opened the refrigerator. Rummaging around, she noted a few items. "Hmm, a nice selection of fruits in here. Perhaps a fruit bowl could work."

"A fruit bowl? You're on vacation; live a little!" spat out an increasingly agitated Harvey. "Besides, donuts aren't any worse than pancakes or waffles. Just have one or two. It won't kill you."

"You might have a way with women and getting them into bed, but I doubt it works with getting them to put sweet stuff into their stomachs. Wait, I didn't mean it like that!" Bridget clarified in annoyance at Whitney's giggle.

Holding up a lone finger, in a motion to wait, Bridget moved over to the cupboards, continuing her search. At the same time, Harvey's attention was drawn out the window over the sink to an odd sight. RJ Ridge had just exited the garage and now jogged toward the front of the house.

That's an odd place to be coming from this early in the morning. I guess RJ needed to get something from his car. Wait, their vehicle is parked in the driveway. Did he sleep in the garage? Oh! I didn't unlock the door yet.

"Hey, Sean, could you run over and unlock the front door? I haven't done it yet this morning.

"Sure, Mr. Diamond."

While her son left the room, Bridget turned away from the cupboards with a smile. "I think I'll make some waffles. How does blueberry or strawberry waffles sound, Whitney?"

"Ooh, I like the sound of that!" Whitney cheered, causing her father to throw his arms up in exasperation.

"You too, pumpkin? Bee, it's not your turn to cook. Wait, isn't it tomorrow? You shouldn't have to do it two days in a row."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm happy to help. Besides, I can **** my two kids to help me tomorrow just like you are now." She shot the annoyed Whitney a wink. "And since you said there will be plenty of leftover donuts for tomorrow, that will cut down what I have to cook for then. Or don't you guys want to indulge on vacation two days in a row?"

"Okay, smarty mouth, I seem to recall you loving my treats whenever I brought them over years ago. I haven't forgotten that, you know."

"Aw, did I upset, mister big shot? I was only being polite back then. It's rude not to have one when a guest brings something over. Your little sidekick was the one that ate most of them," Bridget remarked sassily.

"Polite?" Harvey barked out a laugh. "I seem to recall you eating more than just my treats. You practically drooled whenever your family made Danish kringle."

"Kringle? I love grandma's kringle!" Sean announced excitedly as he walked back into the room. "Did you sneak some here in the car, Mom?"

"No, she didn't, Sean. Your mother is being quite a rude guest at the moment. And while your grandmother's kringle is amazing, your great-grandmother's version was to die for," Harvey informed him, getting a little glassy-eyed.

"Yeah, I had it a few times when I was little."

Whitney sat on the stool, fascinated by the banter between her father and Sean's mother. She had known her dad had some connection to Bridget, but it seemed to go far deeper than she ever expected. Not to mention the earlier revelation that the older blonde was close to her mysterious Aunt Demi.

"Now, the real question is whether or not your mother can make it. Or did she waste all her time in life chasing boys?"

"I spent my time learning to be a doctor, buddy!" Bridget snapped out. "Besides, do you have any idea how much work it takes to make that? That's one recipe that I'll leave to Bev. She can--oh, I'm sorry, Harv. I didn't mean to--"

"No, no, it's okay, Bee," Harvey said soothingly, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Whitney. "It's like I told Fred the other day about hearing Cassandra's name; you have to learn to deal with it."

That name again! Who's this Bev that everyone is afraid to bring up around Dad? Is she related to the Tarvers? Whitney told herself that she was going to get to the bottom of this and get to it right this minute.

"Okay, pumpkin, time for you to do your job," Harvey announced, cutting off his beady-eyed daughter before she could start talking. Picking up a tray filled with cut-out pieces of dough, he shoved it at her. "Sean, would you mind helping her out? Excellent. Take this tray with you then."

As the two teens picked up the trays, Sean looked around confused. He didn't know where he was supposed to go with it.

"Now, you remember how to make these, right?" Harvey asked his daughter.

"Yes, I do, Dad. I never, ever forget anything that I hear."

"Okay, spill!"

Sean blanched at Whitney's order. Shit, I knew she wouldn't just drop the issue. Well, I guess she's the only other person that knows for sure what I did, so maybe she can help me out. Considering that they were standing in the rec room, not very far from the Locketts' bedroom, Sean hoped Whitney wouldn't have chosen this spot to ask about his bathroom experience.

"Yeah, I don't know what happened to be honest. It all feels like some weird wet dream. I mean, I certainly didn't go after her. I would never do that, you know. I respect people's relationships," Sean rambled on in his guilt. "But, Gabby wouldn't take no for an answer. I swear--"

"What are you babbling about? So you fucked the hot mom last night, so what. Although, I'm kinda impressed by the sounds I heard--but that doesn't matter," Whitney said, cutting off her own words to get the matter she cared about. "Tell me, who the fuck is this Bev?"

"Bev?"

"Yes, Bev! Your mom clearly knows who this person is. Tell me!"

"You mean Aunt Beverly?" Sean asked, perplexed by the demand.

"Aunt Beverly," Whitney repeated, rolling the sound of the name around her tongue, almost as if she learned a new word in a foreign language. "Is she an aunt like Gabriella and Rachel are to you? Is she one of your mom's old friends?"

"Why is this a big deal to you?"

"Tell me!"

"Geesh, calm down. She's my mom's older sister."

Whitney froze at the revelation, her body not moving but her brain going into overdrive. Sean wondered if she was alright, but before he could ask, he learned to cook donuts on the fly. He had to grab them out of the fryer with the tongs before they began to burn.

"Is she dead?"

"What?" Sean asked over his shoulder as he struggled not to drop any of the fried dough. He didn't need to splash the hot oil all over himself.

"Is your Aunt Beverly dead?" Whitney repeated.

Shooting the hot cheerleader an incredulous look, Sean replied. "No, she lives in Blackbridge."

"Hmm."

"Is everything alright, Whitney? You're acting kind of strange."

"How much older?"

"I don't understand what--"

"How much older is she than your mom?" Whitney repeated slowly after cutting him off.

"Uh, two years older."

"Hmm, that makes her a year younger than my dad. What do you know about your Aunt Beverly and my father?"

"I don't know anything. I didn't even know they knew each other. Aunt Bev and my mom don't get along very well. Grandma says they are like oil and water. Guess they've fought since they were little. They just got into a big fight at Christmas the other day," Sean explained, starting to wonder if all the popular kids were a little odd. They sure seemed to be acting weird on this trip. "Hey, you gonna help or what?"

"This will require further investigation," Whitney said softly to herself. Turning her attention to the donuts, she flashed Sean an annoyed look. "What the fuck, Tarver! Can't you do anything right? You burned those two donuts. Give me the tongs!"

"I like her."

"You do?"

"Yes, she reminds me a little of myself at that age," Bridget revealed.

"Oh, boy! That's supposed to be a good thing? You were a little hellcat back then," Harvey joked, then ducked as a piece of dough thrown at him narrowly missed his head.

Before he could retaliate, the doors to the sunroom opened. RJ walked in and froze. His eyes darted all around the room.

"Well, someone is up bright and early," Bridget commented. "Hey, you look cold. Where's your jacket?"

"Uh, I left it here last night? Yeah, yeah, that's--it's over by the front door. I just need to grab it before I shower and get changed. Uh, gotta go. Morning, Mrs. Tarver. Morning, Mr. Diamond," RJ stuttered through the conversation until he fled down to the foyer.

"No jacket in this weather? Hrmph! I tell you, even college boys think they are invincible, running around without coats. They act like they won't catch a cold," Bridget said in annoyance. "I should have a word with Amelia the next time I see her. People end up in the hospital all the time with pneumonia because of that stupidity."

"If you say so, you're the doctor," Harvey said, keeping one eye on the window.

"Now, what were you saying about me being a little hellcat?"

"Oh, don't try and deny it, Bridget. I heard the stories. You were...quite an adventurous young woman."

"Thanks for not calling me a slut, at least. But I do see a little of myself in Whitney. Although I think she's wilder than even I was back then in some ways."

"Yes, I think so too. You kept to guys your own age, but she prefers to run with college boys," Harvey noted. His eyes locked in on a puzzling matter — RJ, now wearing his jacket, speed-walked outside toward the garage. The intriguing part was that he carried an extra coat and a pair of boots. Well, this is an interesting development. I wonder who's stuff that belongs to?

"Yeah, I couldn't go after guys in college. Beverly would have never let me."

"No, she wouldn't have," Harvey agreed. "I am worried about Whitney, to be honest. I think without having an actual mother around, she doesn't know where the line is to stop at."

"Her and Willow still don't get along?"

"No, not really. They clash about everything. Whitney sees her about every six weeks for a weekend plus for several weeks in the summer. If it weren't for the custody agreement, she would probably refuse to see Willow," Harvey admitted. "Whitney is insufferable for the week leading up to a visit and for a couple of days after."

"I'm sorry, Harv. That's a shame."

"Yes, I know I have an unorthodox relationship with Whitney. I tell her way too much about my life, including the women I date. But I don't want to be like my father, and I know she's yearning for a mother figure in her life. Imogen Pierce helped a lot the first year after the divorce, but she's busy more and more with her job. Shenai connected with Whitney, but she was more like the cool aunt than an authority figure. If it wasn't for Frida, I don't know where I'd be..."

"Despite her wildness, I think she seems like a good kid. Not a little spoiled heiress that she could have turned into."

"Oh, she's spoiled, alright," Harvey responded with a laugh. "But it's the men she dates that worries me. She's burning through boyfriends faster and faster. This latest one? If he lasts a day past this trip, I'd be shocked. I worry about what happens when she heads to college. If college guys already bore her, then what's next? Is she going to look for excitement with bad boys like so many girls do? With her money, she's ripe for some scumbag to come after her."

"I understand your worries, Harv. You're a dad scared about his little girl leaving the nest. But I think Whitney's too smart to be conned by some fortune hunter. You raised a sharp-eyed girl. Trust her."

"Whitney's smart in most ways, but when it comes to sex, I don't know. I worry that's the route some guy will corrupt her through." He paused for a long moment before his eyes met Bridget's. "I worry she'll turn into Demi."

"Demi? No way! Nuh-uh. Don't even think that. Don't start thinking Demi's issues are genetic, Harvey," Bridget sternly told him.

"Well, the high sex drive seems to be in the Diamond blood."

"Harvey, listen to me. Demi's troubles took place in a different time, a different era. One thing your daughter has going for her is that she's not naive. There's no way Whitney would get snookered into a situation like your aunt," Bridget fiercely argued.

"I know she's not naive. But the damn girl just oozes sex. Hell, even I've been having a hard time not to notice her, and I'm her father, for fuck's sake," Harvey felt awful admitting it, but he trusted Bridget not to overreact to his revelation.

"Yeah, it must be hard with her prancing around in little outfits like that robe," Bridget smirked.

"It's not funny, Bee!"

"Oh, it's funny to see the unflappable Harvey Diamond get flustered," Bridget said, now with a big smile.

While his breakfast co-chef looked down to mix the waffle batter, Harvey felt genuine shock to see who exited the garage. Peyton Tarver darted out the door, her head moving around on a swivel as she scanned the area for any people. As she walked toward the front door, Harvey assumed RJ would exit the garage a couple of minutes later. This is surprising. It looks like Peyton does take after her mom in at least one way.

"Alright, I think you're wrong about Whitney turning into Demi. But--and this a big but--if something happens that scares you, then I want you to call me, immediately. If Whitney needs an older woman to talk to, I'll do it."

"B-Bridget," Harvey sputtered out, left almost speechless by her offer. "I don't know what to say...but thank you. That's quite an offer."

"As I said, I like her, and she reminds me of myself. And I'm close to Demi, so I know the full story. I'll be there if Whitney needs a friend to talk to."

"One thing I'm thankful for is that Whitney has friends that are loyal and can help keep her in check. Lacey and Ramsey would never follow her down into some sex-crazed rabbit hole. Well, Catarina would probably jump in with her," Harvey said with a knowing shake of his head. "The problem lies with guys. It's hard for a father to admit this, but every guy that knows my daughter wants to fuck her. What she needs is similar to what saved Aunt Demi. Whitney needs a male friend to be there for her."

"That is a fine idea, but you can't **** a guy friend not to be attracted to Whitney. What are you going to do, audition guys for the role by asking if they want to have sex with your daughter?" Bridget replied with a giggle.

"I don't need to audition anyone. I think I already found the perfect person to be that friend," Harvey informed her. He paused for a moment before revealing the name, curious about the forthcoming reaction. "Sean."

"Sean? Sean who? Not my Seanie?" Harvey nodded. "Oh, Harv, you can't be serious. Just because he's my son doesn't make him the person you need."

"Why not? I've been watching him, and I like what I see."

"You need someone tough. Someone that Whitney won't walk all over. A guy who will stand up and fight those people you think want to use Whitney," Bridget listed, shaking her head. "Sean's not that person."

"Really? Well, I think he is that person. I think you're underestimating your son."

"Look, I love my little boy dearly. He's a great kid, but he's a dreamer, a romantic. You need a pragmatic person to keep Whitney in check." Harvey shook his head in disagreement. "Just like you worry about Whitney, I worry about Sean. He wants everything and everyone to be perfect in his life. I'm scared he's so worried about finding 'The One' that he'll end up with a broken heart and never recover."

"See, you just proved my point. You called him your little boy. Sean's not a little boy any longer, but you still see him like that. As a little boy, his mother needs to protect him from getting his feelings hurt."

"And how is that any different than you worrying about Whitney?"

"I don't see her as a little girl that needs protecting, but a desirable woman that vultures will circle," Harvey explained. "And I do take into account that he's your son. He reminds me of his family."

"Well, sure, Sean looks like Leonard, but he's not like him at all personality-wise."

"I'm not talking about Leonard. If he was like his father, I wouldn't be interested. Sean reminds me of Seamus."

"My father? You gotta be joking me! Sean is nothing like my father," Bridget protested, almost violently shaking her head. "How can you say that? You know my dad; you know the stories of the crazy shit he went through as a private detective. This is all wishful thinking on your part. You want a new version of the infamous Seamus Fallon, but his grandson isn't it."

"Don't sell your son short, Bridget. It's obvious you have a blindspot with him. Sean's made of much sterner stuff than you give him credit. I was impressed with how he reacted to the ranger's demands the other day; he was quick on his feet even though he knew he was in trouble."

"What ranger? What trouble? What did my son do?"

"Uh, that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that he wasn't about to be browbeaten into doing an act he didn't want to by a person with authority. Does that not remind you of your father? Your little boy is a fighter. He clearly held his own against Austin yesterday."

"What about him and Austin?"

"Come on, Bridget. Don't tell me you, as a doctor of all people, fell for his lame 'I hit my head in the shower' story. He and Austin had a fight, and it must have been a pretty rough fight based on how much pain Austin tried to hide yesterday."

"A fight? Why that little shit! Why didn't you say anything? Why wasn't Austin sent home?"

"I didn't say anything because Sean must want it kept quiet. I suspect he's trying to protect Lacey. Sean has a good heart. Do you think he would stand by in fear as a person he cared for was hurt?"

"Uh, no. I don't th--" Bridget started to say, but then a memory flashed into her mind. Sean as a sixth-grader standing up to Austin over his bullying of Newt. "No, no, he wouldn't! Sean would fight for his friends."

"And there you have it. Don't underestimate your son, Bridget. I suspect he's going to surprise you in many ways."