EPISODE 251 - TURNING POINT

Matt comes onto the front porch of the Krebbs home early in the morning on election day.  He takes a deep breath of the fresh morning country air as looks out over the horizon of the beautiful ranch of his wife's parents.  Margaret comes onto the porch and walks over to him.  

 

"Beautiful morning,"  Margaret says.

 

"Sure is.  And take a breath of that fresh, country air.  Y'know, I think your Dad was right."

 

"About what?"

 

"About the morning being the best part of the day,"  Matt says.

 

"Especially on election day."

 

Matt smiles.  "It's amazing how everything just turned around.  Last week I was facing a murder charge.  Not just any charge, but a charge of murdering one of my best friends.  I was way behind Barnes in the polls, and then.....bam!  Everything changed.  Now I'm a free man, my named cleared and Peter's real killer is sitting behind bars without bail, and I'm way ahead of Barnes in the polls now."

 

"His new campaign manager being charged with Peter's murder pretty much sunk Barnes's campaign.  There's no way you could possibly lose this election.  Why Brad Barnes didn't just drop out and save himself the humiliation is beyond me."

 

"I'm glad he didn't drop out.  This way, at least I'll have a little competition in the home stretch."

 

Margaret puts her arms around her husband.  

 

"This is such a beautiful place,"  Matt says, looking out over the ranch.  "I always love it when we come here."

 

"So do I,"  Margaret says.  "Sometimes I really wish I'd had the chance to grow up here.  If I remember the story right, my Dad built this house for my Mom when she was pregnant with me.  They were separated at the time, and my Dad wanted her to move in here with him.  But, it didn't work out, and they ended up getting a divorce before I was born.  Ever since my Dad bought this ranch back and he and Mom got remarried, every time we come here, I dream about what it would've been like to have actually lived here."

 

"Wouldn't it be great if Ethan and Maddie got to grow up in a place like this?"  Matt asks.

 

"Yes it would, but how?"

 

Matt looks at her.  "Well, y'know, we COULD buy a ranch of our own.  If not a ranch, then at least a beautiful home like this in the country with lots of land for the kids to enjoy."

 

"You're really serious, aren't you?"  Margaret asks.  

 

"Why not?  We can certainly afford it.  Only question is......do we buy a place here in Texas or in Washington?"

 

"Hey, you, two,"  Donna says, coming to the door.  "Breakfast is ready."

 

"We're coming, Mom,"  says Margaret.

 

"Matt, you ready for one last half day of campaigning?"  

 

"More than ready.......to get this election over with."

 

"You're a shoe in now,"  Donna says.

 

"Yeah, I know,"  Matt says.  He and Margaret follow Donna back into the house for breakfast.

Brad's apartment....

 

Brad is sitting on his sofa in his living room that morning, staring blankly at his television, the morning news covering the story of the day's upcoming elections.  Brad has the sound muted.  A photo comes onscreen that shows incumbent Senator Matt Culver at 62% in the polls, and Brad at a measly 26%.  Brad reaches over and picks up two of his campaign posters from the  

"What's the point?"  Brad asks.  "The election is LOST, Pamela.  Culver is ahead by almost 40 points in every single poll.  There's no way in hell I could catch up now, even if a miracle happened."

 

"So you're just gonna give up?"

 

"What else would you suggest?"  Brad asks.  "It's  happened again, and there's nothing that can be done about it."

 

"What's happened again?"  Pamela asks.

 

"A Barnes's life and career has been ruined  by a Ewing.  Maybe not one of Jock Ewing's descendants, but a Ewing just the same."

"Brad, that's one thing I STILL don't understand,"  Pamela says.  "Why in God's name did you hire this Craig Ewing character of all people to be your campaign manager?"

 

"Because I had no choice."

 

"What do you mean by that?"

 

"I had no choice, Pamela.  I never should've gotten myself into this whole mess to begin with."

 

Pamela takes a seat beside her brother on the sofa.  "Brad, explain to me what you're talking about."

 

"My whole campaign.  It was never on the up and up, Pamela.  Several months ago, the head of the democratic party in Texas came to see me at my office."

 

"I know.  That's when they asked you to run for the Senate against Matt Culver,"  Pamela says.

 

"Right.  After State Senator Mark Stoddard, who was initially running against Culver, died suddenly.  Only thing is, Stoddard's death was no coincidence."

 

"What are you saying?"

 

Brad looks at her.  "They killed him, Pamela.  They knew Stoddard was not a man they could buy or control, so they wanted him out of the way.  They needed a candidate to run against Culver who they could control.  And they found the perfect patsy in me."

 

"They?  They WHO?"

 

Brad pauses before answering.  "I can't tell you.  The less you know, the safer you'll be."

 

"Damn it, Bradley, you cannot just say something like that and not tell me the rest.  Who are you talking about?"

 

Brad looks at her for a moment.  "Can't you guess?  The same man has been trying to take control of all the major corporations in this country, including Westar and Ewing Oil."

 

"You're talking about......Jeremy Wendell, aren't you?"

 

"Yep.  Ol' Satan, himself."

 

"But......why?"  Pamela asks.

 

"They wanted to install their own man in the Senate to get things done.  To push this radical agenda.  Pammy, this is bigger than Wendell.  He's the head of this huge and very powerful organization that wants to control the United States.  They wanna take over the economy, which is why they need all the major corporations, and they wanna take over the government."

 

"Wendell, I......I don't understand this.  Why is he doing this?  I mean, the man is in his 90s.  Surely he must know he'd never be around to see such a long range plan come to be."

 

"Jeremy Wendell is not like the average human, Pamela.  The son of a bitch honestly thinks he's gonna live forever or something.  And just look at him.  Maybe he's found some secret of eternal life or something.  How many other 90 something year old men do you know who are still as sharp and fit as they were 30 or 40 years ago?  Damn it. Pamela!  I had everything.  I was head of the ORC.  I was riding high.  I was finally in a position to pay John Ross Ewing back for everything he's done to me, and I gave all that up when Wendell and his henchman, Craig Ewing, dangled all that power of the United States Senate in front of me, with promises they would take me even farther."

 

"Did you know that Craig Ewing killed Matt's campaign manager when you hired him?"  Pamela asks, dreading her brother's answer.

 

"I had my suspicions,"  Brad replies.

 

"And you let Matt go to jail for that?  Dear God, Brad, how could you?  What if Craig Ewing had not been discovered to be the real murderer?  Would you have been willing to let Matt Culver spend the rest of his life in prison for a murder he didn't commit?"

 

Brad lowers his head, unable to look at her.  

 

Pamela stands from her seat and looks at him.  "Oh my God.  You WOULD have.  What kind of man are you?"

 

"Pamela, don't you understand?"  Brad asks.  "From the moment I set foot in Dallas, I've been a loser.  And I have John Ross and the Ewings to blame for that!  When all that power was dangled in front of me......."

 

"You sold your soul!"  Pamela says in tears.  "You were so hell bent on beating the Ewings that nothing else mattered to you.  Just like our father.  This damned Barnes-Ewing feud nearly destroyed him, and it consumed him until the day he died, just as it did our grandfather.  And now I see it doing the same thing to my brother.  But you know what?  The sad thing is, after everything I just learned about you..........I don't even give a damn!" Pamela runs to the door to leave.  

 

"Pamela, WAIT!!"  Brad yells, standing to his feet.  

 

She pauses and turns back to him, tears running down her face.  "I don't even know who you are anymore.  I no longer have a brother.  From now on, you stayed away from me, and stay away from my children!  I will not have them corrupted by this damned Barnes curse!"  Pamela storms out of the apartment.  

 

After she leaves, Brad's anger again rises up inside of him.  Not only has he lost any hope he had of a future in politics and business, now he has lost his sister, the one person he thought would always have his back.  Filled with rage, Brad walks over to his television.  Taking his hand, he violently shoves the TV from the stand it sits upon to the floor, shattering it.  In a sequence of angry, rage filled acts, Brad picks up his coffee table and shoves it against the wall, knocking a large hole in the wall.  He picks up several vases around the room and shoves them against photos hanging on the walls.  Then he sees a framed photo of himself, Cliff, and Pamela sitting on a table in one corner of the room.  He walks over and picks it up.  After a few seconds of looking at it, he angrily smashes the photo against the wall, and in so doing, cuts a deep gash on his right hand.  He drops the shattered photo frame to the floor, and winces in pain as blood gushes from the wound.  He leans against the wall, then slowly slides down to the floor, leaving a blood trail going down the wall from his injured hand.  Sitting on the floor amidst the wreckage of what was once his beautiful living room, he begins to cry.

 Bobby and Ann are hosting an election night party at Southfork that evening to watch the results on television.  Gathered in the Southfork living room are Bobby, Ann, Christopher, Erin, John Ross, Krystina, Lucy, Mitch, Catlin, Sue Ellen, Alex, Bridget, Clay, Michelle, Cass, Lila, and Justin.  While some of the assembled group sits watching the TV, John Ross, Krystina, Sue Ellen and Catlin are chatting in one corner of the room, Lucy, Cass, and Lila chat in another, and Justin stands alone near the bar, sipping a glass of wine.  

 

John Ross comes over to his brother.  "Kinda surprised Pamela let you come over here tonight to celebrate Matt Culver's inevitable win."

 

"Pamela knows exactly which side I've been on in this election,"  Justin says.  

 

"I guess she's over at her brother's campaign headquarters, ready to help him lick his wounds."

 

"No, actually she's over at her Mama's place.  She and Afton decided to watch the election results there tonight.  Pamela went to see Brad this mornin', and she was real upset when she came home.  Somethin' happened between them, and she wouldn't tell me what it was."

 

"Maybe she finally came to her senses and realized what a loser that brother of hers is,"  John Ross says.  

 

"I think I'm gonna go give her a call,"  says Justin.  "I'm kinda worried about her.  Excuse me, John Ross."

 

"You bet,"  John Ross says as Justin walks away from him and Krystina comes over.  

 

"Is Justin okay?"  She asks.

 

"Yeah, he's just worried about Pamela."

 

"I imagine tonight isn't easy for her.  I'm sure she supported her brother in this election."

 

"Well, at any rate, the right side is comin' out on top tonight."

 

"John Ross, I think I'm gonna go upstairs and check on my mother.  I'll be back in  a few minutes."

 

"Okay, darlin',"  John Ross says.  He kisses his wife, and she walks away.  

Meanwhile....upstairs....

 

Krystle is sitting up in bed watching the election results on television.  At one point, she winces in pain, places her hand on her head, as a sharp pain hits.  The pain quickly passes, and Krystle resumes watching TV, putting the pain out of her mind and dismissing it as an after effect of the serious brain surgery she had just undergone only two weeks earlier.  Krystle is startled by a knock at her door.  "Come in,"  she says.

 

Krystina comes into the room.  "Hi, Mom.  How are you feeling?"

 

"Just fine,"  Krystle replies with a smile.  

 

"I see you're watching the election results, too.  You feel up to coming downstairs and joining everyone else?"

 

"No, thank you, darling.  I'd rather stay here.  I'm getting rather sleepy because I took a pain pill a few minutes ago, so I think I'll read for a while and then turn in early."

 

Krystina smiles.  "Alright.  Is there anything you need?  Something to eat, or a snack?"

 

"No, I'm fine."

 

"Okay, well, you call if you do need anything."

 

"I will,"  Krystle says.  

 

Krystina leans down and gives her mother a hug.  "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have you home."

 

"It's good to be here."

 

"I love you, Mom.  You sure you don't need anything?"

 

"No, as I said, I'm fine."

 

"Okay, well, I'll leave you alone, then.  Goodnight."

 

"Goodnight, darling."

 

Krystina smiles at her mother again, then goes to the door.  She pauses a moment, looks at Krystle again with a smile, and leaves the room.  

 

Krystle reaches over to the table by the bed and picks up the remote and switches off the TV.  Placing the remote back onto the table, she picks up the book The Grapes Of Wrath from the table, as well as her reading glasses.  She puts the glasses on and opens her book to the page she had been reading.  As she begins to read, Krystle notices that the words on the page begin to fade, her vision becoming blurry.  Suddenly, the pain returns to her head.  Krystle puts the book down and takes off her glasses, a look of distress on her face.  But again, Krystle decides to ignore the symptoms, believing they will eventually go away on their own as her recovery becomes more complete.  

Back downstairs....

Clay is standing alone at the bar in the living room fixing himself a drink when John Ross comes over to him.  John Ross grabs a glass and begins fixing himself a glass of bourbon.  "Well, I hear you're about to close your first big deal with the Cartel,"  John Ross says.

 

"And just how did you hear that?"  Clay asks.  "Sue Ellen tell you?"

 

"No, she never said a word."

 

"Then how'd you know?"

 

 

"Oh, Clay,"  says John Ross.  "You should know me well enough by now to know that I keep tabs on just about everything that goes on in Dallas, especially if it has to do wth the oil business."

Clay looks at him and smiles.  "Oh, John Ross.  Just can't let go, can you?  You're still so obsessed with Ewing Oil that you have to have your little spy running back to you on every deal Ewing Oil is gonna do with the Cartel."

 

"Spy?  Why, nephew, I have no idea what you're talkin' about."

 

"You're good, John Ross.  And persistent, I'll give you that.  The spy I'm talking about is that cute little bimbo named Samantha Chambers."

 

"Now what gives you the idea that Samantha is spyin' for me?"  John Ross asks.

 

"Samantha has it bad for you, John Ross.  She's like  a silly school girl unable to hide her crush for the captain of the football team.  And she'd do anything for you, even make several attempts to seduce me."

 

"Samantha tried to seduce you?"  John Ross asks, feigning ignorance.  

 

"You know damn well she did, and you're the one who put her up to it.  So you and Samantha might as well just knock it off right now.  I'm not interested."

 

John Ross lets out a slight laugh.  "Well, well, Clay.  I never pictured you for a gay boy."

 

"I'm with Michelle, and unlike you, I'm not a cheater.  You might wanna be careful hanging out with Samantha, John Ross.  I'd sure hate to see you put your marriage in jeopardy, AGAIN.  And I'm not saying that because I give a damn about you, which I don't.  But I do care about Krystina, and I'd sure hate to see her get hurt."   Clay starts to walk away.

 

"Clay,"  John Ross says.

 

Clay stops and turns back to him.

 

John Ross looks at him with a smile.  "You said Samantha acts like a silly school girl with a crush?  Well, you're the expert on school girls, seein' as how you're sleepin' with one."

 

"Go to hell, John Ross,"  Clay angrily says and walks away, passing Alex, who approaches John Ross.

 

"What was that all about?"  Alex asks.

 

"Nothin',"  John Ross replies.  "Just your cousin bein' a little defensive.  Listen, Alex, I need to ask you to do somethin' for me."

 

Alex sighs.  "You're not gonna ask me to keep tabs on Clay at Ewing Oil, are you?"

 

"Look, I just need to know what deals your cousin is workin' on, that's all."

 

"Why?  You're not even a part of Ewing Oil anymore,"  Alex says.

 

"Thanks for remindin' me.  Son, I'm just curious.  I may have been kicked out of Ewing Oil, but that doesn't mean I don't still love that company.  Ewing Oil is in my blood, and I'll be damned if I'll sit back and let a still wet  behind the ears outsider like Clay Beaumont run it into the ground."

 

"First of all, you were NOT kicked out of Ewing Oil.  Leaving was your choice.  Second, Clay isn't running the company into the ground.  He's actually doing a really good job of running Ewing Oil.  He  brought this really great deal to the Cartel that could Ewing Oil a lot of money and put the company right back on top."

 

John Ross looks at his son disapprovingly.  "You finished tellin' me what a great job Clay Beaumont's doin' in MY job?"

 

"And third...........I'm sorry, but I won't spy on Clay for you,"  Alex says, and walks away from a frustrated John Ross. 

 

"Hey, everybody,"  Bobby says from across the room.  "Looks like all the networks have just called it.  Matt won re-election by a HUGE landslide."

 

The room erupts into applause upon hearing the news.

Jeremy Wendell's apartment....

Meanwhile, at his penthouse apartment in Dallas, Jeremy Wendell is also watching the results of the election on TV, a look of anger on his face.  As he listens to the news anchors on TV, Jeremy is becoming angrier with each passing minute, blaming Brad's crushing defeat on the total incompetence of Craig Ewing.

 

"And it looks like we are now able to call that race for the United States Senate in Texas,"  says a male FOX News anchor as Jeremy listens carefully and with great interest.  "And, as expected, incumbent Senator Matt Culver has won

"I would imagine not,"  Alexis Colby says.  "I've been watching the results of the election, or should I say the results of the massacre.  Jeremy, the other night, on my very brief visit to Dallas, you assured me that you had everything under control, and that Bradley Barnes would win that election."

 

"And he would have......."

 

"Yes, he would have,"  Alexis says, interrupting Jeremy.  "Had it not been for that incompetent, inept imbecile you chose to be your right hand man.  But, perhaps all is not lost."

 

"Meaning?"  Jeremy asks.

 

"You have another who could serve as your right hand man, and eventually, as your heir."

Dallas....

"Meaning your son, Adam?"  Jeremy asks.

Denver....

"Yes, of course Adam," says Alexis.  "Not only has he been invaluable these past few years, as president of ColbyCo, he already controls one of the companies we need to go forward with our plans."

 

"Adam also betrayed me when he spilled his guts to the Ewings."

 

"An action I'm certain Adam regrets very deeply.  Jeremy, I won't take no for an answer.  Adam is the only logical choice to take that Craig Ewing person's place as your heir, and the future head of our little enterprise."

 

"Alexis, I won't be given ultimatums,"  Jeremy says.

 

Alexis smiles deviously.  "I'm not giving you an ultimatum, dear Jeremy.  I'm telling you what's going to happen.  Don't forget that I know the truth about your real identity, and I won't hesitate to make that information public, unless you do as I say."

 

"Don't you dare you threaten me, Alexis!"

 

"It's not a threat, Jeremy.  It's.,......insurance.  And it does seem to make me the senior partner in our little enterprise, doesn't it.  Oh, and don't even think about arranging some sort of 'accident' for me, or about threatening any member of my family.  Because I've made arrangements that if anything should happen to me, the secret of your true identity and past will be revealed to the world within an hour or any news of my demise or near demise.  Let's call it double insurance because I know how dirty you like to play.  I'll be in touch."  Still smiling, Alexis hangs up the phone, then takes a puff from the cigarette she is smoking.   

Dallas....

Fuming with anger, Jeremy puts down his phone after Alexis hangs up on him.  "Damn that woman,"  he says quietly to himself.  "I will not allow Alexis Colby or anyone else stand in my way."

Brad's Campaign Headquarters....

Across town at his campaign headquarters, Brad sits alone in his office, depressed, devastated, and unable to face the few supporters he still had left after the debacle of Craig's arrest for the murder of Peter Stanton.  A knock comes at his door.  Brad ignores the knock.  The person knocks a second time, and when this knock also goes unanswered, a young woman of about 20 opens the door and steps just inside the office.  

 

"Mr. Barnes?"  She says.

 

"Yes, what is it?"

 

"The press keeps calling.  All the networks and newspapers.  They all wanna know if you're going to make a statement soon about........about losing the election."

 

"No,"  Brad says.  "Tell them I won't be making a statement tonight.  And it's getting late, so, you'd better send everyone home.  And tell them thanks for all the time they put in on this campaign."

 

The young woman walks over to him.  "Are you alright, Mr. Barnes?"  She asks, placing a hand on Brad's shoulder.

 

"No.  I'm not alright.  Do I look alright?"

 

"Y'know, Mr. Barnes,"  the young woman says, seductively rubbing Brad's shoulders with both hands.  "After I send everyone home, I could stick around, if you need someone to talk to.  Or better yet, we could go back to my place and have a drink.  I'm sure we both could use some company tonight."

 

"Thank you, but no.  I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good company tonight."

 

"Well, we could just sit up and talk."

 

"Again, no.  Maybe some other time.  Tonight, I just want to be alone.  Now, please send everyone home, tell the press there'll be no statement from me tonight, and then go on home yourself and get some sleep."

 

"Okay,"  the young woman says.  She picks up a pen and a piece of paper from Brad's desk and writes something, then hands the paper to him.  "Here's my number, in case you change your mind."

 

Brad takes the paper and looks at it, nodding in hopes that the young woman would just go away and leave him alone.  

 

"Night, Mr. Barnes," she says.

 

Brad says nothing as the young woman quietly leaves the office, but a second later, she peaks her head back into the office.

 

"Mr. Barnes, someone is here to see you,"  she says.

 

"Whoever it is, tell them to go away,"  Brad says.

 

"Does that apply to me?"  Afton asks, walking into the office.  

 

Brad nods at the young woman, who promptly leaves, closing the door behind her.

 

"Afton, what are you doing here?"  Brad asks, a tone of annoyance in his voice.  

 

"I came to see if you were alright,"  Afton says.  

 

"Pamela send you?"  Brad asks.

 

"No.  She doesn't even know I'm here.  After the election results were officially announced, Pamela quietly went up to bed."

 

"Of course.  I should've known the answer before I asked the question.  Pamela was so pissed at me, she probably won't speak to me again for months, if ever."

 

"Brad, what happened between you and Pamela?"  Afton asks.  "I know whatever it was, it's serious enough for my daughter not to wanna talk about."

 

"Afton, let's just say I made some bad choices when I got involved in this damned campaign," Brad says.

 

"What kind of bad choices?"  Afton asks.  

 

"Afton, I really don't feel like talking about this right now," Brad says, getting up from his seat and walking over to a small bar in his office, where he pours himself a drink.

 

"Alright, I won't press.  But I really do hope you and Pamela are able to patch things up.  I think you really need your family right now."

 

"Family?"  Brad asks with a slight laugh as he takes a sip of his drink.  "Do I even still have a family?"

 

"Yes, Brad, you do,"  Afton says.  "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you.  I may not be your mother, but......."

 

"No, but I AM,"  says Marilee Stone, walking into the office.  "Hello, Afton."

 

"Marilee,"  Afton says,  "Well, I guess I'll be going.  Brad, remember what I said."

 

Brad nods as Afton walks past Marilee and leaves the office.   Brad lets out a deep sigh.  "Mom, what are you doing here?"

 

"Well,"  says Marilee.  "You haven't seen me in months, and that's the greeting I get?"

 

"I'm sorry.  It's good to see you.  Now, why are you here?"

 

"I came to see my son.  I've been traveling in Europe for the past 8 months, and I come home to find out that my son was a candidate for the United States Senate, and he didn't even bother to let me know."

 

"How could I let you know?" Brad asks.  "I tried to phone you when I was first asked to run months ago, but I couldn't reach you.  Your phone kept saying you had a voicemail box that hadn't been set up yet.  Finally, after several tries, I gave up."

 

"Yes, I dropped my phone while I was in Milan, and was without one for a few days,"  Marilee says.  "You could have kept trying."

 

"I didn't figure you were interested,"  Brad says, pouring himself another drink.  "You were never interested in my life before."

 

"Bradley, that's not true."

 

"Mother, you know damned well, it's true.  You sent me off to boarding school and out of your hair just as soon as I was old enough to tie my own shoe.  You rarely allowed me to come home for holidays like Christmas.  If it hadn't been for those lavish gifts you sent on Christmases and birthdays, I wouldn't have even known that I had a mother."

 

"I thought we had gotten past this a long time ago,"  Marilee says.  

 

"I honestly thought so, too, Mother,"  Brad says.  "But every time I fail at something, it's like I'm transported back to when I was 9, 10, 11 years old and spending Christmas Day all alone in that boarding school like Ebenezer Scrooge.  This loss tonight feels exactly like that.  Or maybe none of this is your fault at all.  Maybe losing is just in my genes."

 

"What do you mean by that?"  Marilee asks.

 

"It means that I obviously take after my father.  I had a great job, Mother.  A powerful job as head of the ORC.  I could have crushed the Ewings and Ewing Oil with the power I had.  But what did I do?  Like an idiot, I gave that job up for the promise of a seat in the United States Senate, and a promise that I could beat the Ewing candidate, Matt Culver.  I even believed them when they dangled dreams of the White House in my face.  I did exactly what my father would have done, and, just like him, I ended up losing everything.  All because of someone named Ewing."

 

"Bradley, allow me to enlighten you on something.  Your father was a good man.  At least, he was at one time.  But he had one huge blind spot and that was his hatred of the Ewings.  Something he inherited from that drunken father of his.  I watched Cliff go up against J.R. Ewing many times over the years, and every single time he was knocked flat on his ass.  I'm ashamed to say that, a couple of those times, I was partly at fault.  Cliff's vendetta against the Ewings ended up very nearly destroying him more than once.  He ended up in prison because of it.  I do not......I WILL NOT.......allow the same thing to happen to my son.  Bradley, you have got to give up this feud with the Ewings.  Let the past die."

 

Brad looks at his mother.  "No way.  No way in HELL.  If anything, after this embarrassing loss and after losing everything I ever wanted, I'm even more determined to bring down that family."

 

"Even if it destroys you?"  Marilee asks, dreading her son's answer.

 

"Yes, Mother.  Even if it destroys me.  This is something I HAVE to do.  And it has nothing to do with my father and his fight with J.R., or even Digger Barnes and his feud with Jock Ewing.  This has to do with ME, and everything John Ross has done to me.  He blackmailed me,  He almost destroyed my career.  I have to get my revenge because that's all I have left.  I don't know how, but somehow, I will climb out of this hole that was dug for me, and I will destroy the Ewings.  I'll take everything from them."

 

Marilee is silent for a moment, then she sighs deeply.  "Then you truly are lost, and there's nothing more to say."  Marilee walks to the door and starts to leave.  She pauses a second, and looks at her son.  "No matter what you think of me or the kind of mother I've been, I do love you.  And I'll always be here if you need me.  I'll be at the house.  I really hope to hear from you soon."  Marilee leaves, closing the door behind her.  

 

After his mother leaves, Brad turns and looks at himself in the mirror.  All he can think about is getting his revenge on not only the Ewings, but also on Jeremy Wendell and Craig Ewing as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dallas Police Department....the next morning....

 Craig Ewing is sitting in his cell at the Dallas Police Department the next morning when a jailer comes to his cell door.  "Ewing, you got a visitor,"  the jailer says.

 

"Who is it?  My lawyer?"  Craig asks.

 

"I dunno.  Why don't you just go and find out?"

 

A couple of minutes later, Craig is led into a visiting room, where Brad is seated at a table waiting for him.  Craig looks at him for a moment, then walks over and takes a seat at the table across from him.  "Well, when they brought me in here, I thought I was getting a visit from my lawyer.  Normal visitors usually have to talk on a phone and through glass."

 

"It's one of the privileges of being a candidate for United States Senate, even a losing one, and a licensed attorney."

 

"So you come to gloat?"  Craig asks.

 

"Maybe.  Or maybe I just came to see the man who destroyed all my hopes and dreams sitting in jail."

 

"YOUR hopes and dreams?  In case you haven't noticed, Barnes, my hopes and dreams kind of went up in smoke, too.  And not only that, I also lost my family.  Because of my wife's stupidity in turning me in based on false evidence, I had to send her and my kids into hiding."

 

"Yeah, well, Alli and those kids are a hell of a lot better off far away from you,"  says Brad.  "And what do you mean, false evidence?"

 

"That evidence was planted in my safe,  Barnes.  I did NOT kill Peter Stanton."

 

"You really expect me to believe that?"  Brad asks.  "The morning after Stanton's death, when I went to confront you, you were giddy about it."

 

"Believe what you want,"  Craig says.  "But Wendell hung us both out to dry.  He arranged it so that I wouldn't even be granted bail, so unless my lawyer can appeal that decision, I'm stuck in this damned jail until I go to trial for a murder I didn't commit."

 

"Not my problem."

 

"It will be when Wendell comes after you the way he did me.  That old son of a bitch disposes of anyone and everyone who's no longer useful to him."

 

"Why would Wendell frame you for killing Stanton, knowing you'd just strong armed me into hiring you as my new campaign manager?"  Brad asks.  "Wendell had betted EVERYTHING on me winning that election.  He had to know that if my new campaign manager was arrested for the murder of my opponent's campaign manager, it would blow up any chance of winning."

 

Craig lowers his eyes to the table.  "Wendell didn't know."

 

"Wendell didn't know WHAT?"

 

"That you had made me your new campaign manager,"  Craig replies.  "That was my idea.  Not Wendell's. And just as you made the official announcement, I was arrested."

 

Brad laughs.  "Oh my God," he says, still laughing.  "Well, it would seem that what we have here is a comedy of errors.  You thought you were putting one over on the old man, but it came back and bit you hard in the ass.  Actually, your little machination blew up in all our faces.  Nice work, Ewing."

 

"I need your help to get out of here.  They seized all my assets, so I had to hire a public defender, which proves I was railroaded."

 

"Doesn't prove anything,"  says Brad, standing to his feet.  "Except that the judge could see what a low life scumbag you really are.  Maybe you didn't kill Stanton, and maybe you did.  I don't really care.  You're exactly where you deserve to be, and after all those threats you threw at me.........I'll be happy to see you rot in prison for the rest of your miserable life."  Brad goes to the door and starts to leave.

 

"Barnes?"  Craig says.

 

Brad turns and looks at him.  "What?"

 

grave.  A sad look comes over his face and he chokes back tears.  "I really wanted it, Dad.  I wanted to be a United States Senator so bad I could taste it.  And then, one day, I wanted the presidency.  But, like every other dream or plan I've ever had in my life, it all blew up in my face.  I understand how you felt, getting beaten by J.R. Ewing all those times.  I also understand the need you had for revenge, because I feel it myself right now.  My mother and Pamela both thing I'm letting this obsession with beating the Ewings consume me the way that it did you, but it's not like that.  I WILL have my revenge, and it's not going to take me a lifetime to get it.  I only wish you were here to

 get that revenge with me.  I miss you, old man.  Y'know what's crazy?  I didn't find out you were my father until I was well into my 30s, and I only knew you for, what?  3, 4 years?  But I miss you every day same as if I'd known you my whole life.  Maybe it's because we had so little time together as father and son that I feel your absence in my life so much.  I never had a father growing up.  I had always believed my father was Seth Stone,  a man who had killed himself when I was just a little over a year old.  A man I had no memory of.  But getting to build a relationship with you, my real father, was the greatest experience of my life.  I only wish that I had a son so I could tell him about you, and stories I've heard about Digger Barnes.  Funny stories.  But that'll never happen.  The son I had died.  He died of Neurofibromatosis.  Another curse of the 

Barnes family.  And now, how could I possibly ever risk fathering another child and passing that disease, that curse, onto him or her?  God, how I envy Pamela, and even Emma.  They were both blessed with healthy sons.  At least so far.  I can't help but ask myself why.  Why me?  You have three children, Dad.  Out of the three of us, why was I the one to pass this disease on to my son?  Oh, well, I guess we'll never know."  Brad wipes a tear from his face.  He remains silent for a few seconds.  "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do with my life now.  I resigned my job at the ORC, so I can't go back there.  Politics is definitely out now.  After that debacle of a Senate campaign, I probably couldn't get elected garbage commissioner.  But one thing I do know for sure.  While I'm trying to figure out how I'll spend the rest of my life, I'm gonna be planning my revenge.  Well, I love you and I miss you, old man."  Brad stands to his feet.  "And if you're able to do so, I'd appreciate a little luck down here."  Brad looks down at the grave for a moment, then walks away.  He makes his way back to his car, gets in, and drives away.

 

Southfork....two months later....

 Ann is standing in front of the beautiful Christmas tree in the living room at Southfork on a cold January afternoon two months later.  She has several cardboard boxes sitting in the floor, each one labeled 'Christmas.'   

 

Bobby comes into the living room carrying another large box.  "Well, this is the last of Christmas boxes," he says, placing the box next to the others.

 

"Thank you, my darlin',"  Ann says.  She lets out a sigh.  "I sure do hate the thought of takin' down the tree and all the decorations.  I think they were especially pretty this year."

 

"I think so, too.  So why not just leave 'em up?"  Bobby asks.

 

"What?"

 

"Since the tree and the Christmas decorations are so pretty and we enjoy 'em so much, why take 'em down?"

 

"Because that's what you do when Christmas is over,"  Ann says.  "Bobby, it's like this........Christmas is a very special time of year.  And, gettin' a tree and bringin' out all the decorations and decoratin' the house for the holidays, that's special, too.  But if you were to leave it all up year round, then that just takes away from the specialness of it.  You understand what I'm sayin'?"

 

Bobby smiles.  "I think so."

 

"Good.  Now, while I start with the tree in here, you and Christopher can start takin' down the decorations outside."

 

"Yes, Mrs. Ewing,"  Bobby jokes.

 

Christopher, Krystina, and Erin come into the room, followed by Krystle.  "Ann, do you need some help in here before I get started taking down the tree in the den?"  Krystina asks.

 

"Tell you what,"  says Krystle.  "Krystina, I'll help Ann in here, if you don't need my help in the den."

 

Krystina smiles.  "Okay.  I can handle it."

 

"Actually, I'd love to help you in the den," says Erin.

 

"Erin, you really don't have to help,"  Ann says.  "I'm sure you must be tired after your treatment yesterday."

 

"Surprisingly, I'm not tired at all,"  Erin says.  "I laid down and rested some earlier."

 

"Don't worry, she knows her limits,"  Christopher says.  

 

"Besides, I'd love to help.  It's the least I can do to repay your family for the wonderful time I had during Christmas."

 

Ann smiles.  "Well, I'm glad.  And you're a part of this family now, so you might as well get use to it."

 

"And hopefully soon, we can make that official,"  says Christopher, giving Erin a quick kiss.  

 

"Come on, son,"  Bobby says.  "Ann has a job for us........taking down all the decorations outside."

 

"Alright, let's do it."

 

"Well, Erin, why don't you and I get started in the den?"  Krystina asks.

 

"Sure,"  Erin says.  She kisses Christopher, then leaves the room with Krystina.  Bobby and Christopher also leave to take down the decorations on the outside of the house.

 

"Krystle, are you sure you feel up to this?"  Ann asks.  "I don't mind doin' it myself."

 

"No, Ann, I'm fine.  It's been more than two months since my surgery, and I feel the need to get up and start moving and doing things again."

 

"Alright,"  Ann says as she begins removing ornaments from the tree.  

 

"Your tree has such beautiful ornaments,"  says Krystle.  

 

"Thank you.  Some of them are really old.  They belonged to Bobby's mother, Miss Ellie."

 

"Well, they're certainly beautiful."

 

Ann is about to say something when Sue Ellen walks into the room.  "Hello," she says with a smile.

 

"Sue Ellen,"  Ann says, walking over to her.  "Welcome home."  She gives Sue Ellen a hug.

 

"Thank you, Ann.  Hello, Krystle."

 

"Sue Ellen, it's good to have you home,"  says Krystle.

 

"Thank you very much."

 

"So how was your Christmas with Catlin's family?"  Ann asks.

 

"Oh, it was wonderful,"  Sue Ellen replies.  "Catlin's sister, Blaine, hosted the entire family at her house in San Francisco for Christmas, and everyone was there, including Catlin's brother Larry's widow, Clarice, and her children and grandchildren.  And even Catlin's Aunt Corrine was able to come.  You know she's 101."

 

"Sounds like you had a marvelous Christmas," Krystle says.  "And it shows.  I think you look more radiant than I've ever seen you look, so the trip must have rejuvenated you."

 

"It really did.  And you're looking wonderful, too.  How are you feeling?"

"I've never felt better,"  Krystle replies with a smile.  "I was really stupid for putting off going to the doctor for so long to find out what was wrong with me.  But I was so afraid it was like Alzheimer's or Dementia.  And I just couldn't face that."

 

Sue Ellen reaches out and takes her hand.  "Krystle, believe me, I understand.  If I were ever faced with something like that, I'm not sure I would wanna know, either."

 

"Well, thankfully, it wasn't the worse case scenario,"  Ann says.  "And now you're on the road to full recovery."

 

"Where are John Ross and Krystina?"  Sue Ellen asks.  

 

"Krystina is in the den with Erin takin' the tree down in there," replies Ann.  "And John Ross went into town a little while ago."

An apartment in Dallas....

 Ray takes the mail out of his mailbox, then he makes the walk back up the driveway to the Krebbs home and goes inside.  Donna is in the living room, sitting at a desk typing on her laptop when Ray comes in.  "Nothin' but bills in the mail, and our invitation to the Oil Baron's Ball."

 

"Is it time for that again?"  Donna asks.

 

Ray smiles.  "They do seem to come around a lot quicker now, don't they?"

 

"Well, you know what they say.  The older you get the faster a year goes by."

 

"Yeah, I guess that's true,"  Ray says with a slight laugh.  "How's the writing coming?"

 

"I'm on the last chapter of my biography of J.R., and I just can't seem to concentrate on finishing it.  I thought when Matt's campaign was over, I'd be able to get back into writing and finally finish this book, but......."

 

"Other things on your mind, huh?"

 

Donna nods.

 

"Thinkin' about Dylan?"

 

Donna sighs.  "Yes.  I'm so worried about him, Ray.  The way he and Jasmine eloped and got married without telling anyone."

 

"I'm afraid we only have ourselves to blame for that," says Ray.  "Neither of us were real happy when he and Jasmine told us she was pregnant and that they were gettin' married.  You made it clear that you didn't plan on helpin' give them a weddin', and my guess is, Lila and Cass probably reacted the same way."

 

"I know,"  Donna says sadly.  "I should have tried to be more accepting of that marriage, but Ray, I just can't.  Not when I know what kind of girl Jasmine is.  And then there's Conner continuing his relationship with Ashley after what happened with Dylan.  I don't trust her, either."

 

"Ashley's a sweet girl, Donna.  And she really seems to be in love with Conner."

 

"And before that, she seemed to be in love with Dylan.  So much so that she slept with his brother."

 

"Donna, let me ask you somethin',"  Ray says.  "The way you feel about Jasmine and Ashley.......is it because of the history there, or could it be because they're both J.R.'s granddaughters?"

 

"You know it's not that.  Ray, just look at the pain and the heartache both those girls have brought to Conner and Dylan."

 

"But they both seem happy now.  Maybe they were just mismatched to begin with, and now both of them are with who they belong with.  Donna, Jasmine is gonna have a baby soon.  DYLAN'S baby.  From everything I've witnessed, she seems to make him happy.  He's working, doing well.  They have their own place.  Dylan is finally standing on his own two feet and actin' like a responsible man.  And Conner, he's workin' as foreman of the ranch, and he and Ashley seem happy together.  So why can'y you be happy FOR them?"

 

Donna looks at him.  "I guess because I'm still worried about the relationship between those two boys, Ray.  Yes, things are better between them and they act civilly toward one another when they're together.  But I'm afraid that their relationship will never be the same.  They were so close, Ray.  And now, they barely speak."

 

Ray nods.  "I know.  But I that's just gonna take time for those two to come back together as brothers."

 

"If they ever do."

 

Ray walks over and takes his wife by the hand.  "Well, I have an idea that may just help that along."

 

"And what idea is that?"  Donna asks.

 

"Why don't we have all four of them over here for a family dinner?"  Ray asks.  "We haven't all been together for a family dinner since this whole mess happened between Conner and Dylan.  I think if we all sit down together, as a family, and you show that you're making an effort to accept the two girls, things can start to heal."

 

"Ray, I just don't know if I can sit down to dinner with Jasmine Cory."

 

Ray smiles.  "You mean Jasmine Ewing."

 

"Whatever."

 

"Donna, if we ever wanna get this family back together again, we have to start somewhere.  Now how about it?"

 

Donna looks at him and hesitates for a few seconds before answering.  "Alright.  If you think it's a good idea, then, we'll do it."

 

"Wonderful.  When?"  Ray asks.

 

"Friday night?  If none of them have plans, that is."

 

"Friday night sounds good.  I think I'll call Dylan and Jasmine right now and invite them.  I'll ask Conner before he leaves the ranch this afternoon."  Ray kisses his wife on the cheek and leaves the room.  

 

Donna lets out a deep sigh and shakes her head, not looking forward to sitting down to a family dinner with the two young women who destroyed Conner and Dylan's relationship as brothers.  

Dylan and Jasmine's apartment....later....

 A very pregnant Jasmine is struggling to cook dinner in the small kitchen of her and Dylan's small apartment that evening.  As she attempts to mix cake batter in a large bowl, the doorbell rings.  Sighing in frustration, Jasmine puts the bowl down, quickly opens the oven door to check the dinner inside, then she hurries into the living room and opens the door to find her brother, Cory.  

 

"Hey, sis,"  Cory says.  "Can I come in?"

 

"Cory,"  Jasmine says, greeting her brother with a hug.  "You bet.  Come in."

 

Cory walks into the apartment and looks around.  "Wow this apartment is really.......small."

 

"Tell me about it."

 

"So how are you doing?"  Cory asks.

 

"I'm fine.  Ready for this baby to be born.  Pregnancy is pretty miserable, but, I keep telling myself it could be worse.......it could be summer and I'd be dealing with the awful heat this late in my pregnancy."

 

 

Cory laughs.  "True.  So, have you seen or talked to Mom?"

 

"No.  Not in a few weeks.  Since Dylan and I eloped.  How about you?"

 

"Are you kidding?"  Cory asks.  "You know Mom doesn't like to talk to her gay son."

 

"I guess we both turned out to be disappointments to her."

 

"More like we turned out to be disappointments to her.  Y'know, most mothers would eventually come around and accept that their son is gay and entitled to live his own life.  Or that their daughter should be allowed to live her own life and marry the man she's in love with.  But not Lila Winthrop.  She always had this vision in her head of the perfect family.  I was gonna become a lawyer like Dad, marry some beautiful trophy wife, and have 3 or 4 kids named Winthrop.  And you were gonna marry a super rich business tycoon, give her a couple more grandchildren, and live happily ever after.  But when things didn't work out like she'd planned, what does she do?  She cuts us both off and won't even talk to us, which makes me really sad since you're about to give birth to her first grandchild soon."

 

"Mom is just......impossible.  But, one good thing has come out of everything that's happened over the past couple of years."

 

"Oh yeah?  What's that?"  Cory asks.  

 

"You and I have gotten a lot closer.  Remember when we use to hate each other?"

 

Cory laughs.  "Yeah, that was like most of our lives.  Jas, I need to ask you something."

 

"Ask away."

 

"Are you really happy?  I mean, living in this small apartment and on a small budget is way different from the life you're use to.  And do you really love Dylan?"

 

Jasmine looks at her brother.  She smiles.  "It's really strange, but yes.  I mean, I'm not happy about our economic situation of course, but I do love Dylan with all my heart.  Crazy, huh?  I started off in love with Conner and when he cheated on me, all I wanted to do was hurt him, and I used Dylan to do it.  And now, I can't see myself spending the rest of my life with anyone but Dylan.  And he really is trying, Cory.  He's working so hard at that damned car wash, trying to make ends meet without taking any handouts from Ray or Donna Krebbs."

 

Cory takes his sister's hand.  "Do you need some money, sis?  I can help you out if......"

 

"No.  No.  I definitely don't wanna start borrowing from my little brother."

 

"Well what about your Dad?  Have you thought about asking him for money?"

 

"No, I don't wanna ask him, either.  Dylan and I will be fine."

 

"Well, look, if you need anything, I want you to let me know,"  Cory says.  

 

"I will, Jasmine says, as smoke begins coming from the kitchen.  "Oh my God, my chicken!!"  She yells.  Jasmine rushes into the kitchen, followed by Cory.  She opens the oven, grabs two pot holders and pulls out the pan of chicken she had been cooking.  "Damn, it's ruined,"  she says.

 

"Sis, I'm sorry,"  Cory says.

 

"It's not your fault, I should've been paying attention to it."

 

"Hey, you're just not a cook, simple as that."  Cory reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet.  He takes out $100 and gives it to her.  "Here.  Take this and you and Dylan go out to dinner tonight.  Whatever's left, use it for groceries or whatever."

 

"Cory, I can't take this."

 

"Go on.  It was my fault you burned your dinner.  If I hadn't been here......."

 

Cory is interrupted when the apartment door opens and Dylan walks in.  He is surprised to see Jasmine's brother.  "Cory, hey," he says.

 

"Dylan, what's up, man?"

 

"Ah, not much.  What's burning?"

 

"Dinner,"  Jasmine replies.  "I'm sorry.  It was supposed to be cinnamon chicken."

 

Dylan smiles.  "It's okay,"  he says, embracing his bride.  

 

"Dylan, umm, it was my fault Jasmine burned your dinner,"  Cory says.  "So I gave her some money so you guys could go out and eat."

 

"What?  You gave her money?"  Dylan asks, annoyed.  He quickly grabs the money from Jasmine's hand and gives it back to Cory.  "Thank you, but NO thanks."

 

"Dylan, like I said, it was my fault.  If I hadn't been here distracting Jasmine, she never would've burned the chicken."

 

"We can't take your money, Cory."

 

"Umm, okay, then, how about the next best thing?"  Cory asks.  "Why don't you two go and change, and we'll all go out to dinner?  My treat."

 

"No, thanks,"  Dylan says.  "Cory, we don't need charity."

 

"Charity?  Dude, it's not charity.  I just wanna take you and my sister out for dinner, that's all."

 

"Look, I can afford to take my wife out to dinner if I want to, is that clear?"

 

Cory looks at him for a moment, a bit shocked by Dylan's attitude.  He then looks at Jasmine, who appears to be embarrassed.  "Yeah, it's clear.  Well, I guess I'll be going, then.  Sis, remember what I said.  If you need anything......"

 

"I'll call.  Thanks for coming by."

 

"Sure,"  Cory says, walking to the door, Jasmine following him.  "Bye.  Later, Dylan."

 

"Yeah,"  Dylan says rudely.  Realizing there's nothing more to be said, Cory leaves.  

 

"What the hell was that all about?"  Jasmine asks, angry.  

 

"Look, I'm sorry I was so rude to your brother.  It's just......I had a really long and a really bad day, and I didn't expect company when I got home.  I'll call Cory tomorrow and apologize."

 

Jasmine walks over to him.  "Dylan, what's wrong?  Something happen at work?"

 

"Question is, what DIDN'T happen at work,"  Dylan replies.  "I hate that job, Jasmine.  The manager is always riding my ass about something.  Nothing I ever do is right, even if I do it exactly the way he told me to.  And there's this one guy who works there, he's always on my case because my last name is Ewing.  I should've used the name I grew up with......Baxter."  Dylan takes a seat on the sofa.  

 

"I'm sorry,"  Jasmine says.  "I'm also sorry about dinner."

 

Dylan looks at her.  "So......we have NOTHING to eat for dinner?"

 

Jasmine shakes her head.  "I'm afraid not.  That's why Cory gave me the money.  He was here and we were talking, and I wasn't paying attention to the dinner in the oven.  Dylan, I'm sorry.  I know I make a terrible housewife."

 

Dylan reaches over and takes her by the hand.  "No, you don't.  I'm sorry, too.  I know I've been a little short with you and everyone lately.  Y'know, when we got married and said we wanted to make it entirely on our own after neither of our families approved of the marriage or offered to give us a proper wedding, but, Jasmine, I never realized it would be this hard.  I've gotten two paychecks since I started work at that damned car wash, and, after paying rent and all the bills........we don't even have enough left for groceries.  At this rate, we're gonna have to apply for food stamps."

 

"Well, you know, we do have options,"  Jasmine says.

 

"Asking for help from our families?  Jas, your Mom hates me.  She hasn't even spoken to you since we got married, and I wanna show Ray and Donna that I can do this on my own."

 

"Well, we don't have to go to my Mom or Cass or Ray and Donna.  Cory offered to help.  And there's always my father.  Dylan, my father is very rich, and I know he would be happy to help us."

 

"Yeah, sure. Wouldn't that be a great first impression to leave on your Dad?"  Dylan asks.  "His daughter married a deadbeat who can't even afford to feed her.  Look, here."  Dylan takes his wallet out of his back pocket and pulls out a twenty dollar bill.....his last.  "Order us a pizza for dinner.  I'm gonna go take a shower."

 

"Dylan, that's your last twenty,"  Jasmine says.  "Is this all that was left out of your paycheck?"

 

"Yep.  Like I said, rent and utilities and gas.  Just order the pizza.  Not much else I can do with twenty bucks."  Dylan stands to his feet. 

 

Jasmine watches as he slowly makes his way into the bedroom and closes the door.  She reaches over and picks up her cell phone.  She walks over to the bedroom door and slightly opens it.  Dylan is in the bathroom just off the bedroom.  She waits until she hears the shower water start running, then she closes the bedroom door again and dials a number.  She waits impatiently for an answer.  After several rings, she is about ready to hang up, but finally, a man answers.  Jasmine smiles.  "Daddy?  Hi, it's me, Jasmine.  Yeah, I know it's been a long time.  I'm sorry I didn't call you over the holidays.  Daddy, I have something to tell you.  Actually, I have a lot to tell you, and I only have a few minutes to do it."

Southfork....night....

That evening, Bobby, Ann, Christopher, Erin, Lucas, John Ross, Krystina, Krystle, Alex, Sue Ellen, and Catlin are finishing dinner at Southfork.  As the family gets up from the table, Maria the maid begins clearing the dishes.  The group makes their way across the foyer and into the den, where Bobby heads straight for the bar.  He pours two drinks, one for himself and the other he hands to Ann, who thanks her husband with a smile.  While the others gather in small groups around the room to chat, Sue Ellen comes over to Bobby.  

 

"Mind fixing me a club soda?"  She asks.

 

"Not at all,"  Bobby replies.  "Sue Ellen, it's wonderful to have to and Catlin back.  We really missed you both."

 

"Thank you, Bobby.  We certainly had a wonderful time."

 

"Yes, we did,"  Catlin says, walking up to them.

 

"Catlin, how about a drink?"  Bobby asks.

 

"Sure.  I'll have what my wife is having."

 

"Another club soda coming up."

 

"Bobby, I'd like to have a word with you,"  Sue Ellen says.  "In private, if possible."

 

"Well, that might be kinda tough around here tonight, but sure.  We can step into my office."

 

"Catlin,"  Bobby says, handing Catlin his drink.  "Sue Ellen, shall we?"

 

"Yes.  Catlin, darling, would you like to sit in on the conversation?"  Sue Ellen asks.  "Bobby, I've already discussed with Catlin what I'm about to discuss with you."

 

"No, sweetheart, I think this is something you and Bobby need to talk about on your own."

 

Sue Ellen kisses her husband, then she and Bobby leave the room.  A moment later, they walk into Bobby's 

office.  Bobby closes the door, then proceeds to his desk.  

 

"Sue Ellen, have a seat,"  he says.

 

"Thank you."  She takes a seat in one of the chairs across from Bobby's desk.

 

"Now, what's on your mind?"  Bobby asks.  "Sounds serious."

 

"It is, but I hope that you'll think so in a good way.  Bobby, while Catlin and I were in San Francisco visiting his sister Blaine over the holidays, I did a lot of thinking.  I spoke at length with Catlin about this, and he agrees with me.  I've decided that I'm going to follow you into retirement and step down from my position at Ewing Oil.  Of course, like you. I'll retain my seat on the board, but I think it's time we truly let the younger generation run the company.  I want to turn my shares of the company over to someone else."

 

"Someone else?  Sue Ellen, I hope you don't mean John Ross."

 

"Now, Bobby, just hear me out,"  Sue Ellen says.  "I'm not talking about just turning John Ross loose at Ewing Oil with no supervision.  I want to have someone we both trust working side by side with John Ross.  Someone who can keep an eye on him, and keep him from making the same mistakes he's made in the past.  In other words, someone to keep a check on his ambition."

 

"And who did you have in mind for this?"

 

"Alex.  We both trust him, and he's already shown that he's not afraid to stand up to John Ross."

 

 

"Sue Ellen, there are so many things wrong with that idea, I don't even know where to begin,"  Bobby says.  "First of all, you know how proud John Ross is.  Do you really think that he would ever want to come back to Ewing Oil and play second to Clay, not to mention being in a position of having his own son oversee everything he does?"

 

"I think John Ross wants so badly to be a part of Ewing Oil again that he would accept any terms."

 

"Second of all, there's Clay.  You know he and John Ross can't stand each other.  I seriously doubt Clay would wanna work with John Ross.  They'd be fighting with each other all the time.  Not to mention the strain this would probably put on John Ross and Alex's relationship, especially if John Ross were to step out of line and Alex were to have to reign him in.  I'm sorry, Sue Ellen, but I really have to disagree with you on this."

 

"You still don't trust John Ross, do you?"  Sue Ellen asks.

 

"Sue Ellen, it's not that......"

 

"You don't do you?"

 

Bobby looks at her for a moment.  "Sue Ellen, I'm gonna be honest with you.  John Ross is my nephew, and I've loved him since the day he was born, but no, I don't trust him.  Look, I know John Ross loves Ewing Oil.  That's not the issue.  The issue is his impulsiveness and his willingness to do anything to get ahead, even if it means putting the company in jeopardy the same way J.R. did.  And Sue Ellen, right now, we can't afford that kind of recklessness.  Not with Jeremy Wendell circling the waters just looking for some way to take Ewing Oil away from this family again."

 

Sue Ellen nods.  "I suppose you're right.  I just........even though things are better between John Ross and myself, there's still this.........distance between us.  Bobby, to be perfectly honest with you, that's why I agreed to spending Christmas at Catlin's sister's home in San Francisco.  I just couldn't face the holidays here, with things still very chilly between myself and John Ross."

 

"Sue Ellen, I understand that you wanna make things right with John Ross,"  Bobby says, getting up from his seat. He walks around to the front of his desk and leans against the desk. "But offering him your half of Ewing Oil as some sort of compensation isn't the way to do it.  He's still angry right now, but eventually, he'll get over it."

 

"I'm not sure this time, Bobby.  I'm really not."

 

"Trust me, he will,"  Bobby says.  "But look, were you really serious about wanting to step down from your position at Ewing Oil?"

 

"Yes.  I really do want to devote my time to running the J.R. Ewing Foundation and setting up a program to help addicts."

 

Bobby smiles.  "I think that's wonderful.  Alright, then.  We need to find someone to step into your role at the company, and I think you had a great idea earlier."

 

"What do you mean?"  Sue Ellen asks.

 

"Well, who better to step up and take over for you than your own grandson, Alex?  He's young, he's bright, he's energetic, and he's been working at the company for quite some time now.  He knows Ewing Oil and the oil business very well.  And I think it would be great, he and Clay workin' together running the company...... John Ross's son and James's son.  And eventually, maybe there can be a place for John Ross at Ewing Oil, in time."

 

Sue Ellen looks at Bobby and smiles.  "I think that would make J.R. very proud."

 

Bobby takes her by the hand.  "I'm sure it would."

Justin and Pamela's home....the next morning....

Justin, Pamela, Devon, Hunter and Randall are having breakfast early the next morning.  "You boys hurry up," Pamela says.  "Don't want you to be late for the first day back at school."

 

"Feels like Christmas break went by so fast,"  Devon says.

 

"Well, you know what they say.  Time flies when you're havin' fun," says Justin.  "Speakin' of school, Hunter, you still havin' trouble with your math?"

 

 

"I sure am,"  the little boy replies.  "I don't think I'll ever understand it."

 

"I'll try and help you when I have some time,"  Justin says.  

 

"I can help him,"  Devon says.  "I was always real good at math."

 

"Well, thank you, Devon,"  Pamela says.  "We'll take you up on that."

 

"Okay, you guys hurry up,"  Justin says, taking a bite of a biscuit just as the doorbell rings.  

 

"Now who could that be at this hour of the morning?"  Pamela asks.

 

Meanwhile, the maid walks into the foyer as the doorbell rings a second time.  She opens the door to Marilee.

 

"Is Mrs. Ewing in?"  Marilee asks.

 

"Yes, ma'am.  Please, come in,"  the maid says.  A few seconds later, the maid comes into the kitchen.  "Excuse me, Mrs. Ewing?  You have a visitor."

 

"Who is it?"  

 

"Mrs. Marilee Stone."

 

"Marilee Stone?"  Justin asks.  "What in the world could she want?"

 

"I guess I'm about to find out,"  Pamela says, getting up from the table.  

 

Marilee is still in the foyer, looking over the photos on the wall and the general decor of Pamela and Justin's home.  

 

Pamela comes to the doorway of the foyer and looks at Marilee, who has her back to Pamela.  "Marilee?"  Pamela says.

 

Marilee turns around to face her.  "Hello, Pamela."

 

"Marilee.  What are you doing here?"

 

"I do apologize for the early hour of my visit, but I wanted to catch you before you left for the office,"  Marilee says.  

 

"Well, what can I do for you?"  Pamela asks.

 

"I came to talk about my son."

 

 Ray comes into the living room late that morning as Donna is working at her computer.  "How's it comin'?" He asks.

 

"Couldn't be better.  I just finished,"  Donna gleefully replies.  "Now all I have to do is send the last few pages of the J,R. Ewing Story to my publisher."

 

"You sure have been workin' hard at that these last couple months,"  Ray says.

 

"Well, serving as Matt's campaign manager took up all my time and put my writing on hold.  I just tried to make up for the time I lost."

 

Ray smiles.  "I can't wait to read that biography you wrote about J.R."

 

"You can be the first to read it, after the publisher, of course.  Oh, by the way, Dylan and Jasmine, and Conner and Ashley are all coming for dinner tomorrow night, just like you wanted."

 

"Good,"  Ray says.  "Maybe that'll give us a chance to kinda put this family back together again."

 

"I certainly hope so,"  Donna says in a sad tone.  

 

"You don't sound too thrilled about everybody gettin' together."

 

"I'm just worried, Ray.  This will be the first time all four of them have been together since all that stuff happened between them.  I just hope we're doing the right thing."

 

"Donna, things are different now.  Dylan and Jasmine are married now and they're gonna have a baby soon.  Conner and Ashley are happy together.  Everybody's moved on.  I think everything will be fine.  Anyway, I gotta run into Braddock and get a few supplies.  You need anything, or, since you're finished with your book, you wanna ride with me?"

 

Donna takes off her glasses and places them on the desk.  "That sounds like an offer I can't refuse,"  she says, standing.  She kisses Ray, then the two leave together.  

A car wash in Dallas....

 The phone rings in the office of the Washguys Car Wash and Automotive.  A young employee of about 19 walks into the office and answers the phone.  The employee is Eric, the same young man who had previously worked for Brad's campaign.  "Good morning," he says, answering the phone,  "Washguys Car Wash and Automotive.  How may I help you?  Hold on."  The young man takes the phone out of the office, and a few seconds later he exits the building through a side door.  Looking around, he spots Dylan working on cleaning a truck nearby.  "Hey, Ewing!"  Eric calls.

 

"Yeah?"  Dylan says, turning to look at him.

 

"You got a phone call."

"Dylan, hey, man, it's Cory."

 

"Cory?"  A surprised Dylan asks on the other end of the line.  "Cory, what's wrong?  Has something happened to Jasmine?"

 

"No, no, man, nothing like that.  I was just calling to see if you were free for lunch."

 

"Lunch?  Umm, yeah, I suppose."

 

"Great.  How about meeting me at The Capital Grille on Crescent Court?"

 

"Yeah that sounds fine.  I take my lunch hour in 20 minutes."

 

"Okay, let's meet there in about half an hour?"

The Car wash....

 

"Yeah, half an hour sounds fine,"  Dylan says.  "I'll see you then. Bye."  Dylan hangs up the phone and puts it down, wondering why Cory wants to have lunch with him.  

 

 

 

 

The Capital Grille....35 minutes later....

Dylan walks into The Capital Grille restaurant in Dallas a little more than half an hour later.  He is greeted by a young hostess who leads him across the crowded restaurant to Cory's table.  "Sorry I'm a few minutes late,"  Dylan says, taking a seat across from Cory.  "I had to finish up the job I was working on before I could leave."

 

"That's okay, man."

 

"What can I get you to drink?"  The hostess asks.  

 

"Umm, sweet tea, please,"  Dylan replies.  

 

"Coming right up.  Your server will be with you shortly,"  the young woman says with a smile and walks away.

 

"Dylan, thanks for agreeing to join me for lunch,"  Cory says.  "I'm sure you must be wondering why I asked you here."

 

"Yeah, you're right, I am,"  says Dylan.  "So what's this all about?"

                                                         Rachel Cory Hutchins walks into the foyer of her stately home in Bay City, Illinois to answer her ringing doorbell.  She is happily surprised when she opens the door to find Cass Winthrop.  "Cass,"  she says.

 

"Hello, Rachel."

 

"Please, come in."

 

"Thank you,"  Cass says, entering the house.  "I'm surprised you're answering your own door.  What happened to Louise?"

 

"It's Louise's day off.  Cass what on Earth are you doing here?"  Rachel asks.

 

"I came to see Alli.  Is she here?"

 

"Yes, I'm here, Cass,"  Alli replies, coming down the stairs.  "Thank you for coming all the way here from Dallas."

 

"It's no problem,"  Cass says.  

 

"Alli, I had no idea that you had called Cass to come up from Dallas,"  says Rachel.  

 

"Yes.  Grandmother, would you mind if I spoke to Cass alone?"

 

"Of course not,"  Rachel says.  "Cass, when you're done, come in for a visit.  I'll be in the library."

 

"Yes, I will, Rachel,"  Cass says as Rachel leaves the room.

 

"Let's go in here,"  Alli says.   She and Cass go into the living room.  "Would you like a drink?"

 

"A scotch and water would be nice."

 

Alli goes to the bar and fixes two drinks.  She hands one to Cass.  

 

"Thank you," he says.  "I'm glad to see that you're alright.  I've been worried about you ever since you left Dallas after your husband's arrest."

 

"That's what I wanted to see you about, Cass,"  Alli says.  "Would you happen to know how Craig is doing?"

 

"No.  Why would I?  All I do know is that Craig is still being held in the Dallas city jail without bond."

 

"Doesn't that seem strange to you?  Last I heard, murder is a bailable offense."

 

"Well, it still is, but I think in this case the judge felt that Craig Ewing was a flight risk."

 

"I don't see how.  The judge froze all of Craig's assets."

 

"Really?"  Cass asks.

 

"Yes.  I can't even touch a dime of any of our accounts.  Cass, is that........normal for a judge to do such a thing?"

 

"Well, it IS unusual, especially since Craig was denied bail."

 

"Cass, the real reason I asked you here is............I want you to represent Craig,"  Alli says.

 

Cass looks at her in shock.  "What did you just say?"  He asks.  "It sounded like you said you want me to represent Craig Ewing."

 

"That's what I said.  I want to hire you, and your law firm, to represent Craig."

 

"Alli........"

 

"Look, Cass, I know you don't like him.  I know you believe that Craig is involved in all of these sinister things."

 

"Not to mention being Jeremy Wendell's right hand man,"  Cass says.  "Alli, why are you doing this?  Is it because you're feeling guilty for having turned your husband in to the police?"

 

"I've been thinking that, maybe I made a mistake.  Cass, Craig swears to me that he didn't kill Peter Stanton.  I know my husband is a serial liar, but I listen to what he says.   That Jeremy Wendell framed him for Stanton's murder."

 

"And you believe that?"

 

"I don't know.  But look at the whole picture.  Craig was denied bail, Cass.  Then this same judge who denied him bail freezes all his assets so that he can't even afford a good lawyer.  He's had to rely on a court appointed attorney.  Cass, something smells really fishy here.  What if, for once, Craig is telling the truth, and he didn't kill Peter Stanton?"

 

"Alli, I don't know......"

 

"Cass, I know my husband is a monster.  I'm not blind to that fact.  Even though I stayed married to him all these years for the sake of my children.  Craig has done a lot of terrible things and hurt a lot of people, including me.  But does he deserve to go to prison, possibly even get the death penalty, for a murder he didn't commit?  Please, Cass.  Help me.  You are the best lawyer I know, and if I let Craig be convicted of this crime when I have doubts in my mind about his guilt, how will I ever look my children in their faces again?  Cameron already hates me for what I did.  And maybe I really was wrong."

 

Cass sighs and looks at her.  "Alright.  This is against my better judgement, but, you're right.  If he is not guilty of this crime, and I say that because Craig Ewing is anything BUT innocent, then he does deserve the best representation.  So yes, Alexandra, I will represent him."

 

"Cass, thank you. Thank you,"  Alli says, breathing a sigh of relief.  

 

A worried look comes over Cass's face, as he is unsure he is doing the right thing.  

Dylan and Jasmine's apartment....late afternoon....

 Jasmine is in the kitchen of her and Dylan's small apartment late that afternoon attempting to make spaghetti for supper.  She is beginning to get frustrated when Dylan and Cory come into the apartment.  "Hey, sweetheart,"  Dylan says, walking over to Jasmine and kissing her on the cheek.  

 

"Hi."

 

"Hey, somethin' smells good,"  Cory says.

 

"Spaghetti.  At least, that's what I'm trying for,"  says Jasmine.  "Umm, Cory, I'm surprised to see you here."

 

"Actually, Cory and I spent the afternoon together,"  Dylan says.

 

"You did?  I thought you were at work."

 

"Shall we tell her?"  Cory asks with a smile.

 

"I guess we'd better,"  replies Dylan.

 

"Tell me what?"

 

"Cory asked me to come to work at Ewing Records........as his partner,"  Dylan says.  

 

"What?"  Jasmine asks.  "You're serious?"

 

"Yeah, I mean, I thought it would be the perfect solution,"  Cory says.  "I really need a partner, someone to help me get Ewing Records to where it needs to be.  And, it would help you guys.  Dylan will be making a lot of money, so you won't have to worry when the baby's born."

 

"But, Dylan, you don't know anything about business,"  Jasmine says.  

 

"Neither did I when Clay first turned Ewing Records over to me,"  says Cory.  "But I learned fast, and so will Dylan.  I'll teach him everything I've learned so far."

 

"Well, what about Clay Beaumont?  Have you talked to him about this?  Do you think he'll be okay with it?"

 

"Clay will be fine with it,"  replies Cory.  "He gave me complete freedom to run Ewing Records any way I see fit."

 

"So what do you think?"  Dylan asks, taking Jasmine's hand.  "Cory is giving me this chance to finally make something of myself.  He seems to have enough confidence in me to think I can do it, although, given my history, I don't know why.  I want you to have confidence in me too, Jasmine.  I wanna prove to you that I can make it.  That I'm not just an alcoholic and a loser."

 

Jasmine looks at him for a moment and smiles.  She gently places her hand on his face.  "You don't have to prove anything to me.  I already know you're not a loser, Dylan.  If I thought you were a loser, I never would have fallen in love with you.  I believe you can do anything you set your mind to."  Jasmine pauses and looks at Cory.  "I think you guys will make a great team."

 

Dylan puts his arms around her.  "I love you."

 

"I love you, too,"  Jasmine says.  "Oh my God.  My spaghetti!"  Jasmine rushes into the kitchen to find that her ground beef she was cooking was burning, and her spaghetti was sticking to the pot it was boiling in.  "Oh damn.  This is ruined,"  she says, almost in tears.

 

"Sweetheart, it's fine,"  Dylan says.  

 

"Sis, I'm sorry,"  Cory says.  "Seems like every time I come over here I cause you to burn your dinner."

 

"It's not your fault.  I just suck at cooking."

 

"Well, it doesn't matter,"  says Dylan.  "Because when I'm making all that money as a record company executive, we'll be able to hire a maid to do the cooking and cleaning."

 

"Okay, I'm taking us all out to dinner to celebrate mine and Dylan's new partnership,"  Cory says.  

 

"Well, this time, I'm not gonna say no,"  Dylan says.  

Bradford, Pennsylvania....

 At the courthouse in the small town of Bradford, Pennsylvania that evening, Bum is searching through birth and adoption records, hoping to find some information on Jeremy Wendell's birth parents.  As Bum is looking through a book of records in a small room, a woman comes to the door.  "Excuse me, sir,"  the elderly woman says.  "But I'm afraid it's time for our office to close."

 

"Ma'am, are these the only birth and adoption records available?  Is there another place is town where any records might be kept?"  Bum asks.

 

"No, these are the only ones.  The records are quite complete.  Just what is it you're looking for, Mr. Jones?"

 

"Information on someone.  In fact, you may know this family, or at least have heard of them.  The Wendell family,  Frank and Gloria Wendell, but more specifically, their son, Jeremy.  I have information that he was adopted by Frank and Gloria here in Bradford.  What I'm trying to find is Jeremy Wendell's birth parents."

 

"There was another man here searching for the same information a couple of months ago,"  the woman says.

 

"Yes.  He works for me,"  Bum says.  "When he wasn't able to find anything, I thought maybe I'd have better luck.  So I wanted to comb through all of your records with a find tooth comb."

 

"Well, you won't find that information here,"  the woman says.  "Only the adoption decree."

 

"Oh?  Why is that?"

 

"Because the records of Jeremy Wendell's adoption were sealed by request."

 

"Who requested the records be sealed?  The Wendell family?"  Bum asks.

 

"No.  I'm sorry.  I really can't help you.  But I can tell you who can.  Her name is Charlotte Brown.  She was probate judge here in Bradford for more than 40 years, and her father was probate judge before her.  And as a matter of fact, she's a relative of the Wendell family.  Gloria Wendell was her aunt.  If anyone can tell you what you want to know, it's Charlotte."

 

Bum looks at the woman and smiles, hoping he's finally had a breakthrough.

A house in Bradford....later....

 

Bum brings his rental car to a stop in front of a nice, well kept home in Bradford a short time later.  Getting out of the car, he looks at the home for a few seconds, then proceeds up the walk to the front porch and rings the bell.  When no one answers, he rings the bell a second time.  

 

Meanwhile, inside the house, an elderly woman of 90 comes into a small foyer and opens the door to Bum.  "Yes, may I help you?"  She asks.

 

"Mrs. Charlotte Brown?"  Bum asks.

 

"Yes."

 

"Mrs. Brown, my name is Steve Jones.  I'm a private detective from Dallas, Texas.  I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions."

 

"A private detective?  What's this about?"  Mrs. Brown asks.

 

"I'd like to ask you some questions about the Wendell family.  Frank, Gloria, and their son, Jeremy."

 

The elderly woman looks at Bum curiously.

A short while later....

Mrs. Brown pours Bum a cup of coffee, then pours one for herself.  "Thank you,"  Bum says as the woman sits down at the table across from him.  

 

"You're welcome."

 

"Mrs. Brown, I understand that you served as probate judge here in Bradford for a number of years." 

 

"That's right, I was,"  Mrs. Brown replies.  "I was probate judge from 1965 until 2008.  43 years."

 

"I also understand that Gloria Wendell was a relative of yours."

 

"Yes.  Gloria was my great-aunt, my grandmother's sister.  Just what is it you want to know?"

 

"Gloria's son, Jeremy........have you kept in touch with him over the years?"

 

"I haven't seen or heard from Jeremy Wendell since I was 15-years-old, Mr. Jones,"  Mrs. Brown replies.  "Jeremy was 6 years older than me, and when I was growing up, our families were quite close.  But then his parents died, and when he was 20 or 21 Jeremy high-tailed it out of Bradford as fast as he could and he never looked back.  Of course I've kept up with his career over the years through the newspapers and other sources."

 

"Mrs. Brown, I know that Jeremy was adopted by Frank and Gloria Wendell.  What I'm looking for is the identities of his biological parents."

 

"Why, may I ask?"

 

"The client I work for.  This is very important to them.  The lady at the probate court told me the records were sealed by someone's request after Jeremy's adoption."

 

"Yes.  My father was probate judge here and he's the one who sealed the records right after he was elected."  Mrs. Brown gets up from her seat at the table, walks to a mantle, and takes down a framed photo.  She brings it over to the table and shows it to Bum, a photo of a man obviously taken in the 1950s or 60s.  "This was my father, George Henderson.  He was the youngest probate judge ever elected here in Bradford.  He was only 24."

 

"So your father sealed the records having to do with Jeremy Wendell's birth parents?"  Bum asks.  

 

"Yes he did.  He was asked to do so by a wealthy and well connected man, and my father wanted to protect the family."

 

"Protect the family?  I don't understand,"  Bum says.  "Why would the Wendell family need protection?  Unless Jeremy's biological parents were connected to the mob or something."

 

"No, it was nothing like that.  Mr. Jones, I'm an old woman.  90 to be exact.  I don't expect to be on this Earth much longer, and Jeremy Wendell..........I'm assuming he's still alive?"

 

"Very much so."

 

"Well, anyway,  I don't want to keep this secret any longer, and frankly, what's the point?  Frank and Gloria are long gone now, and so is my father.  Mr. Jones, the truth is, Frank Wendell was Jeremy's real father."

 

A confused expression comes over Bum's face.  "You lost me there.  I have seen a decree of adoption, where Jeremy was adopted by Frank and Gloria."

 

"Frank was his real father, but Gloria was NOT his mother,"  Mrs. Brown says.  

"Meaning that Frank....."

 

"He played around on my Aunt Gloria.  And the woman he played around with, who was also married, got pregnant with Jeremy.  And in those days, a married man having an affair with a married woman and the two having a child together was quite scandalous and could destroy families.  The woman, Jeremy's real mother, her husband didn't want the child, and Frank did.  He and Gloria had been married for many years, and Gloria was unable to have children.  So, to conceal the affair, Frank and Gloria decided to adopt the child, Frank's son.  And then the woman, Jeremy's mother........her husband came here and persuaded my father to seal any records with the name of Jeremy's biological parents.  This man had a little money and he had some political connections in the state, so, my father being young and newly elected, he allowed himself to be persuaded to do it.  And he also thought he was protecting his Aunt Gloria by concealing her husband's adultery."

 

"Mrs. Brown, do you know the name of Jeremy's birth mother?"  Bum asks.

 

"Oh, yes.  When my father sealed those records, he actually took them home with him.  He kept them for the rest of his life, and when he died, I got all of his papers.  Just hold on a minute, Mr. Jones."  The elderly woman again gets up from her seat at the table and walks into another room.  She makes her way to a painting and opens it like a door to reveal a wall safe behind the painting.  

 

Meanwhile, Bum continues waiting for the woman in her kitchen.  He finishes off his cup of tea just as she returns with a stack of old, faded, yellow-ish papers.  

 

"You'll find what you're looking for here, Mr. Jones,"  she says, placing the papers on the table in front of Bum.  The entire adoption record, as well as Jeremy Wendell's real birth certificate, naming his birth parents. As well as........something I'm not proud of, but as I said, my father is long gone.  He died in 1981.  So I feel no need to protect his name any longer."

 

Bum begins looking through the old papers, and as he does so, his mouth falls open in shock.  "Oh my God," he says.  "It can't be."

Ewing Oil....the next morning....

Cory steps off the elevator at Ewing Oil and approaches Sly's desk in the secretaries' office the next morning.  "Morning, Sly,"  he cheerfully says.

 

"Good morning, Cory."

 

"I got a message that Clay wanted to see me?"

 

"Yes, you can go right in,"  Sly says.  "He's expecting you."

 

"Thanks."  Cory walks over to Clay's office door, knocks, and walks into the office, where Clay is at his desk.  "Morning.  You wanted to see me?"

 

"Yeah,"  Clay says.

 

"Is anything wrong?"  Cory nervously asks.

 

"I wanted to talk to you about your idea of bringing Dylan into Ewing Records as your partner.  Cory, when I turned the record division over to you, I gave you complete autonomy to run it any way you see fit. But I do have some concerns about bringing Dylan in."

 

"Concerns?"  Cory asks.  "What kind of concerns?"

 

"Cory, I like Dylan,"  Clay says, getting up from his seat at the desk.  "But, Dylan doesn't have the best track record, in ANYTHING.  In fact, he has a pretty lousy track record.  There's his drinking, and he has been known to be a little unstable.  You do know about what he did to John Ross about 8 years ago, right?"

 

"Yes, I know about Dylan's breakdown, and that he ran John Ross down in his car."

 

"Cory, he tried to kill John Ross.  From what I've heard, John Ross was left blind for a while and had to undergo surgery to restore his sight."

 

"Yeah, well, as you yourself know, our Uncle John Ross could drive anyone to wanna hit him with a car,"  Cory says, half way jokingly.

 

"Cory, that's not funny."

 

"Clay, what are you saying?  You don't trust Dylan?  You think he's crazy?  Dude, he had a mental breakdown.  That was YEARS ago."

 

"Yeah, well. he's had quite a few.........problems.........since then.  Just a few months ago, he was on a months long bender and no one knew where he was for weeks.  It seems like any time Dylan is faced with any kind of pressure or adversity, he starts drinking.  What if that happens again and he leaves you holding the bag?"

 

"Clay, I don't believe that's gonna happen.  Dylan has changed now, I see it.  He's married to my sister, and they have a baby on the way.  He's trying really hard to make a go of it.  To make something of himself.  Isn't everyone entitled to a second chance?  Or even a third?  Yeah, Dylan has made some mistakes, but haven't we all?  I kept the fact that I'm gay from my parents.  Everyone screws up, some worse than others.  But does that mean that person doesn't deserve another chance?  Clay, I believe in Dylan.  Maybe that's been his problem all along, no one has really believed in him before.  I feel sorry for the guy.  His mother abandoned him.  The man he grew up thinking was his father turned out not only to NOT be his father, but he killed Dylan's real father.  That's enough to screw anyone's head up."

 

Clay looks at him.  "Cory, are you doing this for Dylan, or for your sister?"

 

"Both.  I love my sister, and I want her and her baby to have a good life and never want for anything.  I also care a lot about Dylan.  Besides, I really do need a partner to help me run Ewing Records, especially once the company starts growing."

 

Clay hesitates a moment and then nods.  "Okay.  If you're sure about this and you're willing to take a chance on Dylan, then fine.  Like I've said before, Ewing Records is yours to run as you see fit, as long as it makes money.  I just hope you know what you're doing."

 

"I do.  Trust me.  Well, I'd better get back to the office.  Talk to you later.""

 

"OKay,"  Clay says as Cory leaves the office.  Clay sighs deeply. worried that Cory is making a mistake.

The Krebbs ranch....that evening....

 Dylan's car drives up to the Krebbs home that evening and comes to a stop in front.  The couple hesitates before getting out of the car, as both look at the house, neither of them looking forward to this family dinner.  "Well, here we are,"  Dylan says.  "You sorry we came?"

 

"I dunno yet,"  Jasmine replies.  "Ask me when this thing is over."

 

"I guess we'd better get on inside."  Dylan and Jasmine get out of the car and make their way onto the front porch.  They hesitate before going into the house, neither of them looking forward to spending an evening with Conner and Ashley.  The two walk into the house, where Ray, Donna, Conner, and Ashley are gathered in the living room having drinks.  

 

"Well, evenin', you two,"  Ray says, he and Donna going into the foyer to greet them.  

 

"Ray,"  Dylan says.  "Hi, Donna."

 

"Hello, sweety,"  Donna says, greeting Dylan with a kiss on the cheek.  "Jasmine."

 

"Donna."

 

"Come on in,"  Ray says.  "We were just having before dinner refreshments in the livin' room."

 

Dylan, Jasmine, Ray and Donna join Conner and Ashley in the living room.  "Well, I'd better check on dinner,"  Donna says, and she leaves the room. 

 

There is an awkwardness in the room as brothers Conner and Dylan come face to face for the first time in quite a while.  "Conner,"  Dylan says.  

 

"Hello, Dylan,"  Ashley says.  "I'm glad to see you're doing so well."

 

"Thank you."

 

Ashley and Jasmine look at each other, but the two young women never speak.  

 

Donna returns from the kitchen.  "Well, dinner is ready," she says.

 

"Great, I'm starved,"  says Ray.  "Let's all go into the dining room."

 

The three couples head into the dining room, where they take seats around the dining room table.......Ray and Donna at each end, with Conner and Ashley on one side of the table, Dylan and Jasmine sitting across from them on the other side.  

 

"Donna, this dinner looks and smells delicious,"  Conner says.  

 

"It certainly does,"  Ashley agrees.  

 

Donna smiles.  "Why, thank you."

 

"I sure have missed your fried chicken, Donna,"  says Dylan, taking a large chicken breast from the platter in the center of the table.

 

"The chicken sure does look good,"  says Jasmine.  "I'll have to get your recipe."

 

Donna looks at the young woman.  "Well, I'll be happy to give it to you."

 

"So Dylan, how's everything goin' at the car wash?"  Ray asks.

 

"Car wash?"  Conner asks.

 

"Yeah, Dylan's been workin' at a car wash in Dallas."

 

"Not anymore,"  says Dylan.  "I quit yesterday."

 

"You did what?"  Donna asks.

 

 

 

 

 

"You quit your job?"  Conner asks.  "I hope you had another one lined up first."

"Yeah, actually, I do,"  Dylan replies, annoyed by his brother's tone.

 

"Dylan is gonna be working with my brother Cory at Ewing Records,"  Jasmine says.  "They're gonna be partners."

 

"Dylan, is that true?"  Ray asks.

 

"Yes, it's true.  Cory asked me to come into Ewing Records as his partner, and I accepted the offer."

 

"Well, now how about that?"  Ray asks with a smile.

 

"Congratulations, Dylan, that's wonderful,"  says Donna.  "I'm so proud of you."

 

"Thank you.  IT's definitely gonna be a challenge, but it's one I'm ready to take on."

 

"Congratulations, I think that's great,"  Conner says.  

 

"Thank you,"  Dylan says, looking across the table at his brother. 

 

"Well, it looks like your whole life is really comin' together in a big way,"  Conner says.  "And I couldn't be happier about that."

 

"I appreciate that."

 

Ray looks first at Dylan, then at Conner, and then he looks across to the other end of the table at Donna, and the two exchange smiles.......smiles of pride and relief that Conner and Dylan are talking, and they are hopeful that this dinner will be the first step in putting their family back together.

Southfork.... 

 Meanwhile, at Southfork, Bobby, Ann, John Ross, Krystina, Lucas, and Little John are having dinner when the doorbell rings.  Maria the maid comes into the foyer and opens the front door to Bum.  

 

"Maria, are Mr.  Bobby and John Ross here?"  Bum asks.

 

"Yes, the family is having dinner.  Come in."

 

"Thanks,"  Bum says, coming into the house.  

 

"Well, evenin', Bum,"  Bobby says.  "Sit down and have some dinner?"

 

"No, thank you.  Bobby, John Ross, I need to talk to you both."

 

"Alright, let's go into the living room,"  Bobby says.

 

A moment later, Bobby, Bum, and John Ross go into the living room, and Bobby closes the door to the foyer.  

 

"Bum, what's up?"  John Ross asks.  "This sounds important.  You found somethin' out about Wendell, didn't you?"

 

"I sure did,"  Bum replies.  "And you're not gonna believe it."

 

"Suppose you tell us,"  Bobby says.  

 

"I went to the courthouse in Bradford, Pennsylvania.  I spent all day yesterday combin' through all the records, birth, adoption, etc.  And I didn't find anything out that we didn't already know about Wendell.  But as I was about to leave, I got to talkin' to the lady who works in the probate court, takin' care of all the records, and she told me about another lady who lives in Bradford, the town's former probate judge who also happens to be the great-niece of Gloria Wendell."

 

"Jeremy Wendell's adoptive mother,"  Bobby says.  

 

"That's right,"  Bum says.  "Well, I went to see this lady, Charlotte Brown.  She's 90, but still sharp as a tack.  And she told me the whole story of Jeremy Wendell's birth, and who his biological parents were."

 

"Who, Bum?"  John Ross asks.  "Who were they?  Is it anything we can use against Wendell?"

 

"Possibly,"  Bum replies.  "But I'm not so sure you'd want to."

 

"Well, why the hell not?"  John Ross asks.  

 

"Because it could prove embarrassing."

 

"Bum, tell us what you mean by that,"  Bobby says. "Why would the identity of Jeremy Wendell's biological parents be embarrassing to us?"

 

"Bum, why don't you just stop talkin' in riddles and tell us who Wendell's birth parents were,"  says John Ross, beginning to lose patience.

 

"Jeremy's biological father was Frank Wendell,"  Bum says.  

 

"Frank Wendell?"  A surprised Bobby asks.

 

"Bum, that doesn't make any sense,"  says John Ross.  "I thought you said Wendell was adopted."

 

"Let me start from the beginning,"  Bum says.  "Frank Wendell married a girl named Gloria Henderson in 1906 when they were both in their early 20s.  From all accounts, the marriage was a happy, at least for a number of years.  But they faced one problem that pretty much changed the course of their lives.  Gloria wasn't able to have children, and Frank desperately wanted a son to carry on the family name, since he was the last of the Wendells.  He had two sisters, but no brothers, and no male first cousins, so if he were to die childless, the Wendell name would have ended.  Well, after Frank and Gloria had been married for more'n 20 years, the marriage became strained because of Gloria's inability to give Frank a child.  And then Frank met another woman.  A much younger woman, who was also married.  Frank and this woman had an affair, and the woman became pregnant."

 

"With Jeremy?"  Bobby asks.

 

"That's right."

 

"So let me get this straight,"  says John Ross.  "Frank Wendell was Jeremy's real father, but Gloria wasn't his mother?"

 

"Exactly.  And, in those days that sort of thing could have destroyed both families.  According to Charlotte Brown, from information her father told her, Jeremy's mother's husband had been away workin' in the oil fields when his wife dilly dallied with Frank Wendell, so he knew the child wasn't his and he refused to raise it.  He was gonna force his wife to give the child up, but when Frank Wendell found out about the baby, he wanted his child.  And, even as hurt as she was about bein' cheated on, Gloria desperately wanted a child, too.  So she and Frank agreed to take the baby and raise him.  But, they didn't want anyone to find out the child was Frank's biological child because of the scandal, so to protect the secret, after Jeremy was born, Frank and Gloria legally adopted him.  Then later, the woman who had given birth to Jeremy, her husband strong armed the probate judge in Bradford, who happened to be Charlotte Brown's father and Gloria Wendell's nephew, into sealing the adoption records so there would be no mention of his wife's name in connection to Frank Wendell or the child.  Later, Charlotte Brown's father started blackmailing this man, and the man paid hush money to him until Charlotte's father died in 1981."

 

"That's more than 50 years,"  Bobby says.  

 

"I know."

 

"Bum, who was she?"  Bobby asks.  "Who was Jeremy Wendell's birth mother?"

 

Bum hesitates for a moment before answering.  He looks at Bobby, then at John Ross.  "Wendell's birth mother was Ellen Lucy Carrington, John Ross.  Krystina's grandmother.  Blake Carrington's mother."

 

Both John Ross's and Bobby's mouths fall open in complete shock upon hearing this revelation.  "Wha...... what did you just say?"  John Ross asks.  "Bum, did you just tell me that Jeremy Wendell is........."

 

"Krystina's father's half-brother,"  Bum says.  

 

"My God, Bum, are you sure about this?"  Bobby asks.

 

"Absolutely.  Ellen's husband, Tom Carrington, was a young wildcatter at the time his wife had the affair with Frank Wendell, who was more than 20 years older than her.  Ellen and Tom had a young son, Krystina's father, Blake, and Tom Carrington was determined to build a legacy for his son.  He probably would have left Ellen when she became pregnant with Frank Wendell's kid had it not been for his own son.  But he agreed to stay with her on the condition that she give up Frank's child.  Frank and Gloria raised Jeremy in Bradford, and both of them died in the late 1940s, Gloria first when Jeremy was only 18, and then Frank two years later.  After the death of his parents, Jeremy Wendell left Bradford and never looked back."

 

"I wonder if Wendell knows any of this,"  Bobby says.  "Could he know that Krystina's grandmother was his biological mother?"

 

"Knowin' Wenell the way that you do, how can you even ask that?"  John Ross asks.  "Of course he knows.  He has to know.  I just wonder if he ever met his mother, or Krystina's father."

 

"And that's what I meant when I said it could be embarrassing,"  Bum says.

 

"How am I gonna tell Krystina this?"  John Ross asks.  "That Jeremy Wendell is her uncle?"

 

"I'm still tryin' to process this.  None of it makes any sense"  says Bobby.  "John Ross, has Krystina ever mentioned her grandmother to you?"

 

"Only in passin'.  She died a long, long time before Krystina was born.  In fact, I think she died before any of Krystina's siblings were born."

 

"Ellen Carrington died in 1954 in a tragic fire at the Carrington home in Denver,"  Bum says.  

 

 

"I still can't wrap my head around this,"  says John Ross.  "Jeremy Wendell related to Krystina's family."

 

"Well, as explosive as this news is, I don't see how we can use this against Wendell,"  Bobby says.  "And even if we could, the last thing I'd wanna do is hurt Krystina or her family."

 

"There's gotta be something in Wendell's past we can use to stop him,"  John Ross says.  "A man like that, ruthless, devious.  No way in hell he's gone through life and stayed clean until he started all that trouble at Southfork back in the late 80s.  Bum, I want you to keep diggin into Wendell's life until you find somethin'."

 

"John Ross, I've already dug into every aspect of Wendell's past, right down to his elementary school records,"  says Bum.  

 

"Then dig deeper,"  John Ross says.  "There's gotta be somethin' there, and if not.........."  John Ross pauses as he looks at Bum, then at Bobby.  

 

"If not, what, John Ross?"  Bobby asks.

 

"If not, then maybe it's time we pull another J.R.'s Masterpiece.  Do the same thing to Wendell we did to Cliff Barnes ten years ago.  It worked then."

 

"Only problem with that is, who do we frame Wendell for killing?"  Bobby asks.

 

"Peter Stanton,"  John Ross replies.  

 

"But  the police already have Craig Ewing in custody for Stanton's murder,"  Bum says.  

 

"So?  Maybe Wendell framed our devious cousin Craig for the murder.  Wouldn't take much, just a little circumstantial evidence planted on Wendell to connect him to Stanton's murder."

 

"That would mean helping Craig Ewing get out of this murder charge,"  Bobby says.  

 

"Ask yourself this, Uncle Bobby.  Who would you rather be stuck with as an enemy..........a small time hood like your second cousin Craig?  Or Jeremy Wendell, one of the most dangerous enemies this family has ever faced?"

 

Bobby and Bum exchange looks.  

Jeremy Wendell's apartment....

Jeremy Wendell is standing by the mantle in the living room of his penthouse apartment, holding a framed photo of a woman which he is looking at.  Jeremy's butler comes into the room.  

 

"Excuse me, Mr. Wendell?"

 

"Yes, what is it?"

 

"Mrs. Colby is here to see you."

 

"Tell Mrs. Colby to go away,"  Jeremy says.  

 

"I'm afraid she is most insistent, sir,"  the butler says.  

 

"Alright, send her in,"  Jeremy says.

 

"No need to bother,"  Alexis says, entering the room.  "I'm already in."

 

"That will be all,"  Jeremy says to his butler, who then leaves the room.  "What do you want, Alexis?  Do you never tire of intruding on a pleasant evening?"  Jeremy puts down the photo he had been looking at.

 

"We have some unfinished business, Jeremy," Alexis says.  

 

"And what would that be?"  Jeremy asks, walking over to his bar.  He begins fixing himself a drink.

 

Alexis walks over to the mantle.  "Unfinished business concerning my son Adam."

 

"I've already made my position very clear about Adam.  I will not make him my heir."

 

"Adam is a logical choice, Jeremy,"  Alexis says, Looking around, her eyes fall on the framed photo Jeremy had been holding when she arrived.  Alexis picks 

up the photo and looks at it.  "I don't believe it," she says.  "Ellen Carrington.  Where on Earth did you get this?  I haven't seen this photograph in years."

 

"Let's just say I ran across it."

 

"She really was quite lovely.  I think my Fallon looks very much like her.  What were you doing with this photograph, Jeremy?  Longing for the maternal care of your mother?"

 

"What I was doing with that photo is none of your damned business, Alexis,"  Jeremy says.  

 

Alexis puts the photo down.  "Well, anyway, back to our conversation about Adam.  I want you to make him your heir."

 

"And I've already told you I will not.  I don't trust Adam, and I certainly have no intention of leaving my entire fortune and operation to someone I can't trust."

 

"And who else is there?  Your own daughter despises you.  All your grandsons are dead, and the man you had designated as your heir apparent is sitting in jail awaiting trial for murder.  It would appear that you're out of options.  And besides that, I'm not giving you a choice.  As the senior partner in our little enterprise, you will do as I say, unless you want the entire world to find out that you're the bastard son of Ellen Carrington and Frank Wendell.  Oh, I admit it won't cause a scandal today as it once would have, but it would definitely tarnish that perfect image of your father, wouldn't it?"

 

Jeremy turns and looks at her harshly.  "Alexis, if you even think about revealing any secret about me or my family, you'd better think again, unless you want me to expose to the entire world that you and I are partners.  How do you suppose Adam will feel about that if he knew his own mother had been the one pulling his strings all this time?  Or better yet, how do you think your other children would feel?"

 

"It would be a simple case of your word against mine.  There's no evidence to link me to you or our little partnership."

 

Jeremy looks at her and smiles.  "You don't really think I would not keep records, do you?  Or recordings from our numerous meetings."

 

"You wouldn't,"  Alexis says.  "You'd be too afraid your own crimes would be exposed."

 

"Are you willing to call my bluff on that?  Appears to me we have each other over a barrel.  But I guarantee you one thing, Alexis.  You breathe one word about Ellen Carrington being my mother, and I'll make you regret that until the day you die, and even beyond."

 

"You're so much like Blake Carrington, it's pathetic.  I knew there was a reason I despised you."

 

"And yet you still went into business with me,"  Jeremy says.  

 

"If I had refrained from doing business with everyone I hated over the years, I never would have done any business at all.  And in this case of our little partnership, the payoff will certainly be worth it."

 

"It certainly will.  Especially when we take Ewing Oil away from the Ewings and destroy that company, as well as the family.

 

"Yes,"  Alexis says.  "Shall we have a drink to our eventual success?"

 

Jeremy pours himself another drink, then pours one for Alexis and hands it to her.  The two raise their glasses in a toast.  "To our eventual takedown and destruction of Ewing Oil and the Ewing family,"  Jeremy says.

 

"And our eventual takeover of all the major corporations in this country,"  Alexis says.  The two exchange smiles as they toast their dreams of the future.

Dylan and Jasmine's apartment....

 

Dylan and Jasmine drive up to their apartment building that night and Dylan brings his car to a stop in a parking space.  The two get out of the car and make their way up the stairs to their second floor apartment.  

 

"Well, THAT was a lot of fun,"  Jasmine says with sarcasm.

 

"I actually thought it went pretty well,"  Dylan says.  

 

"I suppose it did, for you.  But your brother and Ashley never even spoke to me during the entire evening, and Ray and Donna barely spoke to me.  I felt so out of place."

 

"I'm sorry.  Why didn't you say anything?"

 

"What was I supposed to say?  I feel ignored, so someone talk to me?  Oh, never mind.  I'm tired.  Let's just get inside and go to bed."

 

"Good idea,"  Dylan says.  He takes the key from his pocket and starts to unlock the door to the apartment, but then he realizes the door is already unlocked.  "Jasmine," he says.

 

"What's the matter?"

 

"I could have sworn I locked tis door when we left."

 

"You did, I saw you,"  Jasmine says.  "Dylan, look."

 

Dylan and Jasmine both look down at the bottom of the door.  "Now I know we didn't leave the light on.  Jasmine, you wait here."

 

"Dylan, no.  Let's call the police,"  Jasmine whispers.  

 

"Shhhh, just wait here."

 

"Please, be careful."

 

Dylan takes out his pocket knife and opens it.  He then slowly opens the door and moves inside the apartment, where he finds a man who looks to be in his early 50s sitting on the sofa.  "Hold it!"  Dylan says, startling the man.  

 

The man gets up from his seat on the sofa and looks around at Dylan.  "Well, you must be Dylan,"  the man says.

 

"Who the hell are you?"  Dylan asks.  "You're trespassing.  Just stay right where you are."  Dylan holds his knife in front of him.

 

"There's no need for that knife, son,"  the man says.  "Where's Jasmine?"

 

"How do you know Jasmine?"  Dylan asks.

 

Hearing her name from just outside the door, and recognizing the man's voice, Jasmine comes into the apartment.  She looks at the man.  "Daddy?"  She says.

 Creator of "DALLAS" and "KNOTS LANDING."  Thank you, sir, for the many years of entertainment you have given us....