Episode 52, originally published 12-Jul-97

Just Desserts

Phyllis, Danny, Joanie, and Little Daniel pull up in front of the Newman Ranch on the Fourth of July. "Wow," says Joanie as she gets out of the car. "This is sure a nice place." "It sure is," says Phyllis. Then she turns to Little Daniel and says, "It sure was nice of your grandma Katherine to get us an invitation, wasn't it Daniel?" Daniel nods. "It sure was. Will I get to ride a pony?" Danny laughs. "We'll see." Then he says to Phyllis, "It's not just a favor to us. It's good for Katherine to have us here. When Nikki invited her, I think she was afraid she'd show up and find a bunch of college kids and no one she could relate to. So seeing us there will make her feel a little more like it's a family event." Miguel opens the door and ushers them in. Joanie looks very excited. "Wow, this is quite a house." Phyllis looks to Joanie like she's an intrusion and says, "Uh, Joanie, why don't you go with Miguel and see if you can stay out of the way--maybe you can help with the serving or something, ok?" "Ok," she pouts, obviously disappointed. "Come this way," Miguel says with a wink. "I'll show you the servants' area." Joanie follows, looking longingly back at Paradise Lost as the Romalottis continue through Nikki's living room and out the back to the pool party.

A little while later, in another part of Nikki's house (that we haven't seen since Episode 22), Joanie is just finishing with the grand tour of the servants' area. "So you see, in terms of overall floorspace, it's actually six times the size of the main household," Miguel finishes. "And no one's ever noticed?" "Apparently not," says Miguel. "I annexed the rooms one at a time over a long period of time. They hardly ever used them." "So you don't mind being a permanent live-in servant?" Joanie asks. "Not in the least," Miguel says. "But only because of my situation. It works to my advantage. I have a large living area for me and my family. An unlimited budget for meals. Plenty of time to myself. And access to the entire ranch." Joanie nods, sadly. "My situation isn't quite as good, I'm afraid. The Romalotti household doesn't have a lot of rooms so they'd probably noticed if I tried to make my own space. The main benefit is that I get to spend all that time with my favorite rock star and his darling little baby." "Well, being part of a family can be very important. Just don't let the mother walk all over with you. As ethnics on a long-running television serial drama, we have a special responsibility to stand up to attempts to portray us as second-class citizens."

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Miguel says, "I must help my wife separate the cuts of meat by quality." "Oh, so that the Newmans get the good cuts?" Joanie inquires. Miguel laughs, "I used to do that. I would never want to cheat my employer out of what they are paying for. However, I've noticed that they never eat 90% of the meat that I set out, and it seems such a waste. So I put out a few good cuts and then mostly some cheap stuff underneath. It makes me feel less bad about all the spoilage." "You know," says Joanie, "you're a real inspiration, Miguel." "How so?" "Well, you've convinced me I need to do a better job of taking hold of my life--of going after what's important to me!" Joanie says with sudden intensity. "Well, that's certainly my recipe for success," Miguel says. "I'm happy I was able to share it with you." He smiles his familiar smile of confident humility.

Later that night, Joanie enters from the bedroom to find Phyllis packing her purse. "Little Daniel's put to sleep--what are you doing there, Mrs. Romalotti?" she asks, peering curiously at the objects on the table. "Just planning the events of the day for tomorrow--it's going to be a VERY busy day. Can you help me here so I can get this done before Danny comes home? Read off that checklist, ok?" Joanie picks up the paper from the table. "Syringe?" "Check." "What's that for?" "It's for the blood I'm going to draw from Brian." "Brian?" "Danny's real father." "He lives here in town?" "He'll be visiting." "Why?" "So I can draw the blood... but he doesn't know that. What's next on the list?" "Sleeping pills?" "Check. What's that--" "Joanie, it's not going to go very fast if you ask me about each item." "Ok. I guess it's obvious what that's for anyway if Brian doesn't know he'll be giving blood." "Bingo, Joanie. What's next?" Joanie reads: "Spoon?" "Check." "White gloves?" "Check." "How are you going to get him--oh, never mind, I see. Bottle of wine?" "Check." "You're not going to have him over here are you?" "No, Joanie, I'm not that stupid. He's going to call me for information on where to meet." "Oh." she says, then she goes back to the list. "Change of clothes? Mrs. Romalotti, you're not going to..." Phyllis looks shocked. "Joanie! I certainly hope not. But it has to look like I might." Phyllis pushes the last of the items into the bag, just as Danny enters. "All set," Joanie says. "What's all set?" Danny says. "Oh, nothing," says Phyllis. "Joanie and I were just going over plans for tomorrow; I have to be out for part of the day, and then you have that appointment at the lab with Little Daniel." "Yeah," says Danny, "I'm really looking forward to getting that put behind us once and for all..."

Phyllis is in a taxi. Her hair is tied up and covered by a floppy hat. A veil obscures her face, and tight black leather gloves over her hands. The rest of her outfit is a non-descript long raincoat. She inspects her large purse to make sure she has all the `tools' she needs. "Syringe for the blood, wine, sleeping pills from Dr. Tim, ..." "You talking to me lady?" "No, I was not!" Phyllis says indignantly. "OK, well, you's just gotta know that I can't hear well up here so if you see the place you wanna stop, just shout." She sees examines a scrap of paper that says "Fleabag Motel, Room 314" on it. Ahead on the left, she sees the motel coming up and yells, "Wait--stop!!" "Here?" the taxi driver yells back, as if confirmation were needed. "Yes, here!!" Phyllis yells. The taxi screeches to a slow crawl and pulls into the parking lot of the Roach Coach Motel, next door to the Fleabag. The taxi driver looks out at the motel and shakes his head. "Don't look like the best o' choices, lady." "Well, I'm not paying you for your opinion on that, am I?" she says a bit angrily, handing him some money. She hands him an extra $20 and says, "In fact, the only thing I'm paying you for is your discretion. You NEVER saw me, ok?" He shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say."

Back at the Romalotti household, Joanie pulls out a sleeping pill which she has presumably borrowed from Phyllis. She drugs a glass of ginger ale for Danny and brings it to him in the living room, where he's working on some sheet music. "Here, Mr. Romalotti, I brought you a nice cool drink." "Thanks, Joanie!" he says with his typical enthusiasm. A few minutes pass and we notice him getting increasingly tired. "You know, Joanie," he yells. "I think I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up in time to go to the clinic, ok?" "Absolutely, Mr. Romalotti. Sweet dreams," she replies. The camera cuts back to Joanie in the other room, who sits and quickly begins to work at the family computer, which resides in the Romalotti bedroom. She says to no one, "That should give me time to attend to a few details..." It isn't long before she has a stiff piece of white cardboard coming out of the printer. She admires her work (which we can't see) and then starts to cut it with some scissors.

Phyllis walks into the motel lobby and out the back side of the building, waiting long enough for her taxi to pull away. From there she walks next door to the Fleabag Motel and takes one more look at the slip of paper. "Fleabag? Who names these things anyway? Room 314, 314, 314," she says, trying to memorize it. Then she puts the piece of paper into her mouth and starts to chew. A moment later she swallows, muttering, "Neat, clean, no evidence." She walks toward an elevator and before we know it she's knocking on room 314. When Brian opens the door, he starts to say "Phyllis!" but she puts a hand over his mouth to shh him and looks both ways to make sure no one has heard. Then she enters quickly and sets her purse to one side, near the bathroom, covering it with her hat. Finally, she lets out a deep sigh and says "Oh, Brian, it is SOOOooo good to see you." "I wish I knew what I was doing here, Phyllis. I can't believe you talked me into this..." he says nervously. "Brian, could you wait just one little minute while I fix myself up a little and then maybe we could discuss this on a more intimate level?" She grabs her bag and heads into the bathroom. [Author's Note: Oh, how I miss Michelle Stafford for scenes like this, but let's just blunder ahead, shall we?]

In the living room of the Romalotti household, Joanie emerges carrying some scrap cardboard that she tosses onto the fire. She also has a syringe and a vial, similar to the ones Phyllis was using. She checks Danny to be sure he is asleep and then rolls him over undoes his belt. Pulling down his pants to expose his butt slightly, she extracts some blood and fills the vial. Then she rolls Danny back over, retightens his belt, ... and kisses him on the forehead lightly. Finally, after stowing the syringe safely out of sight, and putting vial of blood into her purse, Joanie shakes Danny lightly. "Mr. Romalotti. Wake up. It's almost time..."

Inside the bathroom, Phyllis drops the raincoat to reveal she wears only a teddy beneath. She removes her gloves carefully, without touching anything, and replaces them with some lacy white gloves. She stands on a bathmat to remove her shoes, but leaves some socks. She looks down at them, scrunching her nose. "Hmmm. Doesn't really go with the outfit, but can't be leaving footprints, can we?" She pulls two wine glasses from her purse, and removes the price tags--apparently recently purchased. She starts to dispose of the tags in the trash but thinks better of it, crumpling them and putting them back in her purse. Then she wipes the outside of the wine bottle and the glasses for any lingering prints and fills the two glasses, one with wine and one with half water, half wine. "No sense in wasting the alcohol on me," she says. "I need a clear head." Finally, she dumps the pills (about 10 of them) onto the counter and breaks one open, pouring its contents into the glass. "What if it's not enough?" she ponders aloud. She pours in another, then a third. "There." She stirs the mix with a plastic spoon taken from her carefully prepared purse.

The door opens and Phyllis enters, glasses in hand. Brian eyes her up and down and says with a smile, "I'm starting to remember why you let me talk me into this." "Oh, Brian, you always know the nicest things to say. Here, join me in a toast, will you?" She hands him the spiked glass. "To us," he says. She just nods, happy to have a reason to drink up. She drinks her whole glass. He didn't finish his, but she urges him on. "Drink up, love. There's more if you want it." She shrugs and drinks. They set the glasses aside and he walks toward her, arms extended for a hug and kiss, but he falls back on the bed instead. "Brian?" she says, not sure if he's really passed out yet. But he is, and it's obvious. "Wow, I'll have to remember to tell Tim his pills really worked!" She promptly returns to the bathroom and draws a vial of blood.

Just then, there's a knock at the door. Phyllis asks worriedly, "Who is it?" No answer. She peeks out and sees Joanie. Her hair is up and she is disguised similarly to Phyllis. "Oh my God, Joanie! Get in out of the hall before someone sees you. Did you come in through the front door?" "No, I was careful. I came in the back from the place next door." "Well, what ARE you doing here? Do you know that if you'd come in just a little earlier, you'd have spoiled everything?" "I know, Mrs. Romalotti. I'm not stupid. But these doors aren't much for stopping sound--I've been listening. I didn't knock until you started talking aloud about how well the pills worked..." "And how did you even find this place? I didn't write it anywhere." "Well, you wrote it on the tablet, so I used a pencil over the impression you left on the notepad--it's a trick they use in old detective movies. I was surprised, but it really works!" "You have to destroy it, Joanie. There can't be any record." "Relax, Mrs. Romalotti, I burned it immediately." "So why ARE you here??" "I had to tell you--Danny's already on his way. I couldn't stop him." "Good grief, Joanie, you could have called...he's probably there by now!" "You may not have noticed, Mrs. Romalotti, but this kind of hotel doesn't have a phone in the room. You have to go to the hall to use the pay phone. And I couldn't call. So I came as quickly as I could... I let the air out of his tires, though, before I left. So he'll be slowed down. Until he calls AAA or a taxi. Anyway, it might have bought you enough time!" "But I still have to clean up this room--" "It's ok, I'll take care of it." Joanie wanders around and sees the blood on the table. She palms it, replacing it with the vial she's brought of Danny's blood, then hands it to her. "Here," she says, "take this and go. I'll take care of things here." "Are you sure?" "Have I ever let you down?" Joanie says. "Thank you, Joanie! Thank you!" She rushes out. And as soon as she is gone, Joanie begins moving around the room to clean up. But when she comes to the glasses, she stops and begins to fill them both. The scene fades as she is emptying more sleeping pills into one of them.

At Legal Aid, the Bug answers the phone. "Legal Aid. Christine Williams." A woman's voice at the other end says, "It's a very complex problem, and I don't have any money.. It's about my husband, Brian--he's--I can't talk to you about it by phone. Could you perhaps come here?" The woman sobs. "Ok, ok, calm down. I'll come there. Just give me the address," Cricket says. She nods and says "uh,huh" as she writes something on a pad, then says, "I'll be right there," and hangs up.

At the clinic, Danny enters with his son and is directed to a waiting room down the hall. Shortly after, Phyllis enters and looks around quietly. Seeing some vials on a counter, she makes some visual notes about how they're labeled and smiles. "Good thing the labeling is so standard," she says, pulling out the vial in her purse to verify that its label has been correctly prepared. She wanders down the hall to the waiting room where she finds Danny and Little Daniel. "Danny! Daniel! You're here! I'm so glad I caught up to you." Danny is surprised to see her. "We waited as long as we could, and then we had to take off." "Oh, that's ok, Danny. I understand. I'm just glad I could be here to hold little Daniel's hand." She hugs them both. Conveniently just then, a nurse enters and asks the men to roll up their sleeves. She draws blood from each of them, and sets the vials on the table. "Someone will be by to pick these up in a minute," she says. She moves on to the next pair of arms. Sure enough, a man with a plastic basket comes along moments after collecting them. Phyllis starts to pick up the containers and Little Daniel says, "Can I do that, Mommy?" "Sure, sweetie, here," she says, palming Danny's container and replacing it with Brian's. She gives two vials to Little Daniel, who proudly hands them to the man with the basket. "When will the results be available?" "We pride ourselves in the swiftness of our lab results--we'll know in a few hours. Would you like to stop by then, or maybe tomorrow?" "The sooner the better," Danny says. "But can you just have them call me?" "No, we prefer to always do this in person, with a counsellor present. 7pm tonight?" Danny nods. "Ok, 7pm."

Cricket enters the front door of the Fleabag Motel and approaches the desk. "Hi, I'm Christine Williams." The man behind the desk eyes her up and down, taking special note of her miniskirt. "Hi, doll, what can I do for you?" "I'm a lawyer, and I'm supposed to meet a client here." "Lawyer? Sure you are. Hey, those are some pretty high class duds you got there. Name?" "I just said--Christine Williams." "I mean of the guy you're here to--uh,-- advise." "I don't know the name--she said it was room 314." "She, huh? Yeah, well, whatever trips your trick, I guess. Elevator's right around the corner, but it's busted--I'd take those stairs," he says, pointing to an emergency exit. "Thanks." She walks away and he eyes the no-holds-barred view of her legs as she does. As she disappears out of sight, he whistles and says, "A lawyer, huh? Ha! Like any judge'd let a lawyer into a courtroom dressed like that! But then, I don't suppose her `client' will be spending his time doin' much objectin'..." Then he goes back to reading the World Inquisitor.

Cricket knocks at the door of 314, but there's no answer. She stands waiting for a while, wonering what to do. Finally, she opens the door and goes in. Inside, she sees a man collapsed on the bed. He appears undressed, but has sheets pulled over some parts of him. "Hello?" she asks. The man does not stir. On the table next to him are two glasses of wine--one is full, one is empty. She sits on the bed next to him and checks his neck for a pulse. There is none, and she draws back in horror. She looks suddenly to the bedside.. Under the full wine glass is a wad of money and a business card. To the side is one lone, unused sleeping pill. She starts to lift the glass to see what it might say, but at that moment the door is broken down and police come storming in.

"Officer, this man is dead," Cricket says, putting the glass back on the table. "We can see that," says the policeman. "I wouldn't say anything more if I were you. We got a report of suspicious activity up here--are you Christine Williams?" he asks. "Yes, I'm she. Why?" "Just what it says here on the business card. 555-5284?" "That's my office, yes." "Well, well... looks like you were having quite a party here." "Party?" "Yeah, a party--wine, money, ..." "I don't know about any party--I'm a lawyer--I just came here to give some advice." "Advice. Right. So this is your office..." "No, it's not my office. I go where I'm called." "I'll bet you do. And that's your regular business attire?" "It is," she replies indignantly. "You must run quite an interesting business. Hmm. Do folks really call you Ladybug?" "How did you know about that?" "It's right here on your business card."

"That's not my card," Christine protests. "But it's got your name--your names--on it. People don't usually put other people's names on their cards, do they? `For a good time, call 555-5284 and ask for ``Ladybug''. For really hot action, ask me to bring along my husband.' That's your name, right?" "It's not my name." "Then why did you ask me how I found out about it?" "It's just something people call me... but not because of that card." "Oh, so the name on the card isn't just made up." "My name is Christine Williams." "Yeah, that's here, too. It would really bug me to have people calling me different names like that, but I guess in your business--" "I want to speak to a lawyer." "OH, so you want to speak to a lawyer! I thought you said you WERE a lawyer..." "I was. I mean I am. I mean--" "And your husband, what about him?" "He's a private investigator." "Oh, a private d--" "Yeah, yeah, spare me the crude jokes, please." "But you do work together." "Sometimes." "Uh, huh. Look, Ms. Williams, Ladybug, whatever your name is, we'll get you your lawyer down at the station. For now, though, you're under arrest for the murder of this man." "His name is Brian. And I DIDN'T murder him--I never even met him. I just got here." "Uh, huh. Never met him. Came in and found him dead. Knows his name. My bet is your prints are all over here, too." "Of course they are--but only because I just touched everything." "Exactly. When do you want me to think this murder occurred? The body's still warm. Look, if I were you, I really wouldn't say any more until somebody reads you your rights... O' course, if you really were a lawyer, you'd know that already." "I AM a lawyer--and I was just trying to be helpful." "Oh, you have been--very helpful."

It's later and Danny is at home with Joanie, Phyllis, and Little Daniel. "Time to go back and pick up the results." "Oh, you go ahead," Phyllis says. "You don't want to be there? You were so insistent about being there this afternoon." "That was different, Danny," Phyllis lies. "I just wanted to be there for Little Daniel in case he was worried. You're a big boy--I'm sure you can handle this part of it." "Ok, I shouldn't be long," he says as he heads out.

A while later, the door opens and Danny walks back in. He looks around to be sure that Little Daniel has been put to bed. "I would never have believed it if I didn't see it for myself." "See," says Phyllis, "I told you it would work out ok." "Ok? OK? Phyllis, you've lied to me. Cricket was right all along. I'm not Little Daniel's father!" "Danny? No. That can't be." She thinks for a moment and concludes that maybe Brian wasn't the father after all; in a last ditch effort, she fesses up. "Danny--I wasn't sure if it was you who was the father, so I switched the vials." "Oh, don't think I didn't suspect that--that's why it took so long tonight--we reran the sample tonight and it came out just the same. I'm not Daniel's father." Phyllis is confused but has nothing more to say. Her life is crumbling before her eyes. "Sit down and relax, honey. It doesn't change anything. I love you and you still love--" "Get out," Danny says. "What?" "You heard me. Get out. I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. I have to have time to think."

Phyllis starts to cry and rushes out. Suddenly, the phone rings and Danny picks it up. A voice at the other end says: "It's me... Cricket... Danny, I've been arrested for murder!" "You just can't stop, can you?" Danny says, exploding. "You ALWAYS have to be meddling in peoples' lives, don't you? And now it's gotten out of hand--not only do you want to control their lives but you want to control their deaths as well! Well, I have no more patience with it, Cricket. None at all. Good bye!"

Danny slams down the phone and then sits dejected on the couch. Joanie comes up behind him and starts rubbing his shoulders. "I'm sorry it's been such a rough day for you, Mr. Romalotti. You just sit there and relax and I'm going to make you forget all about it." Danny takes her hand and pulls it tightly to his cheek. "You really are a good friend, Joanie. Your husband is very lucky to have you." "Thanks, Mr. Romalotti, but he doesn't have me any more. I divorced him months ago--that's why I've been living here full-time." "Oh," says Danny. "Well, then I'm very lucky to have you." She smiles. "Aww, thanks, Mr. Romalotti." "Danny," he corrects her. "Ok... Danny. I guess we're just lucky at times like these to have each other," she says philosophically as she slides down onto the couch and curls up with him. "Remind me to thank Miguel," she says. "For what?" "Oh, just something I took away from the party yesterday." "Oh, right--he sure has the best recipes, doesn't he?" "For all sorts of things," she says, nodding.

That's all for this episode. Hope you learned something. Don't miss Episode 53!
If you missed any older episodes, see the index.

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