Previously:

Charlie accidentally overdosed on painkillers, thinking they were aspirin. His family was concerned about the overdose and Charlie's depression at losing his wife and daughter.

Beau and Kerri tried to mend their relationship after Kerri revealed her pregnancy.

Giselle was ready to move on, to focus on repairing her family and her business after kicking Vincent out of her life.

 

Ormand Manor

It was Christmas morning, and although Giselle Ormand wasn't at the Highwind, she was still hard at work. At the moment, she was preparing for her family's get-together that afternoon. Her household staff was adjusting the decorations and adding to an already overpowering array of holiday spectacle.

Giselle, of course, was surveying their handiwork with a critical eye. She felt violated by all of the wreaths and bows and tinsel they were throwing together haphazardly. "This is horseshit!" she barked, grabbing a piece of evergreen trim that dangled from one wall of the foyer. She ripped it from the wall, along with a wreath and a bright red velvet bow. "Haven't any of you ever heard of tasteful moderation?"

It was all just too much, too cluttered, too ... tacky.

"Don't worry Ms. Ormand. I'll have it toned down for you," her longtime butler, Horace, said. He appeared next to her, wearing the same look of distaste upon inspecting the foyer. Giselle nodded at him. If anyone in her household service came close to sharing her discriminating taste, it was Horace. He was the only one she trusted to know her style, to have an ounce of class.

"Start over!" Horace called to the other employees, a sea of groans emanating from the overworked housekeepers. They sadly began removing everything from the walls, while Giselle sighed in exasperation and escaped to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, Giselle discovered the only other family member in the house, her youngest son, Remy. He was at the stove, stirring a large vat with manic enthusiasm. "I love Christmas," he said, stopping to smile broadly before resuming his frantic stirring.

"Well, I think it's one big pain in the ass," Giselle said, though they both knew better. "What are you doing in here, anyway?" She walked closer to examine his cooking prowess. "You're not turning my kitchen into a meth lab, are you?"

Remy tossed his ladle back into the pot and laughed. "I'm just making some Christmas cheer! Ormand style!"

Giselle narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid to ask..." She stepped closer and leaned over the large pot, catching a waft of the aroma. Sweet apples, cinnamon ... hard liquor? She shrugged and looked to him. "Not as completely appalling as I expected."

"Because it's completely delicious! My special cider!" he enthused. He moved to a CD player on the counter and pushed play. The kitchen filled with rap music. "All I want for Christmas is to get it crunk! Get it crunk!" Remy sang along to the track.

Giselle gave an affected wince. "I truly wish I knew where I went wrong with you..." she said over the noise, shaking her head.

"Aww, don't be like that!" he said, stopping the song. Remy ladled some of the cider into a cup, handing it to her. "Here! This'll get you in the holiday spirit."

Giselle arched an eyebrow, but took a curious sip of the potentially fatal liquid. Remy poured himself a glass and joined her.

"It's awesome, right?"

Giselle took another sip. "Perhaps," she grudgingly accepted. "I suppose it is a holiday, isn't it?" she rationalized, giving herself permission to take a heartier swallow.

Remy reached for the CD player again, victorious, but Giselle reached out and stopped him. "I have to draw the line somewhere," she said, sipping her cider. "And you'd better take it easy on this stuff until your brothers arrive," she warned.

"Don't worry. I won't pull a Charlie at the dinner table," he promised. "Speaking of them, did you invite any other surprise guests I should know about? Those stodgy corporate whores aren't crashing our Christmas, are they?"

"No, no," Giselle shook her head. "Just us today."

Remy looked concerned. "I wish Aunt Regina would have stayed for the holidays. Having her here made it a lot easier to deal with everything that happened while you were gone ... everything that happened to you because of me."

"Nonsense. None of this was your fault. You weren't the one who killed Monique, and neither was I. Of course, neither of us knew that at the time, but I'm glad Regina took care of you in my absence."

Giselle had tried to convince Regina to stay, but her sister was adamant about getting back to her own family for the holidays. After seeing everything that'd happened between Giselle and Vincent, Regina was determined to patch things up with her husband and their stepchildren in Japan.

"I'll miss her," Remy said, contemplative.

"Me too." Giselle took another drink of Remy's special cider and felt her cheeks growing warm as the alcohol settled in. "But I'm grateful I had the chance to reconnect with her -- and grateful to be home with my family for Christmas."

"And I'm glad you're back," he said sincerely. As high-strung as his mother could be, things just weren't the same without her around.

"As long as I have you, as long as I'm with my boys, there's nothing more I could ask for," Giselle rested a loving hand on his cheek. "I've learned what's important, and if anyone ever interferes with that again--" Her mind flashed to Vincent, the burning passion she'd once felt for him now only a fiery rage. "--There'll be hell to pay."



The Guthrie Home

Charlie Guthrie sat down at the kitchen table across from his former stepmother, Martine. She held a steaming mug of green tea, while Charlie opted for the strongest, blackest cup of coffee his machine could produce. But both of them shared similar anxious, unnerved expressions.

"You look jittery as all hell. Do you really need more coffee?" she asked, carefully observing him.

"Probably not," he admitted. "I guess I'm just nervous about having to spend the entire day with a family who thinks I'm a depressed addict."

"Understandable," she said, sipping her tea. "Though if you show up the way you are now, they're going to think you're on speed, instead."

Charlie chuckled under his breath, knowing she was probably right. But he didn't care. He knew his family had reason to be suspicious, but knowing their eyes would be on him all day at Giselle's Christmas party wasn't exactly his idea of a pleasant afternoon.

"Well, at least you look good," she commented, taking in his fresh new dress shirt and sleek metallic tie. "I hope you aren't too miserable spending the day with Giselle."

He smiled at her compliment. "I'll manage. Somehow. Barely." He seemed to notice for the first time that Martine was dressed up, too. "What are your plans for today?"

"You mean I'm not invited to the Ormands?" she asked, deadpan. "No, actually, Tyson invited me and Josie to spend the day at his parents' house." Her eyes widened in mock-horror.

"Meeting the parents..." Charlie said. "Getting a little too serious for you?"

"Honey, I think we moved beyond 'serious' when I got knocked up after a one-night stand. Meeting his family is only the icing on a big, heaping cake of uncomfortable."

Charlie's smile widened. "I'm sure it will be fine. Besides, you and Tyson have been doing great. Surprisingly great, to be honest, after the way you got together, haven't you?"

"And I'll be the first to admit I have no idea how we managed to pull that off."

"It's because he's one of the good ones. Just a genuinely nice guy. At least from what I've seen."

"He is," she agreed, a sweet smile appearing at the very thought of him. "He's been nothing but supportive through everything. I'm just worried, you know?"

"Worried that his parents won't like you?"

"No, not even that, really..." she said, trying to pinpoint what it was. "I've never really had people I cared about to spend the holidays with, other than Josie. A family Christmas is like ... foreign territory to me, I guess. I'm glad Josie will be there to make it easier."

While Charlie considered this, thoughts of his own family -- his own daughter -- flooded his mind. "Yeah. Must be nice."

It was his first Christmas without Summer. Without Erin. Would he ever be a part of their lives again? Would he ever even know, for certain, what happened to them or where they'd gone?

He set his mug down, crashing it hard against the table. Some coffee sloshed over the edge.

"Oh, Charlie!" Martine said, handing him some paper towels. He sopped up the spill. "I shouldn't have--"

"No, it's my fault," he said. "Why should you have to apologize for being happy? For having someone in your life?"

Martine's expression was pained, but Charlie quickly realized it had nothing to do with him. She clutched her stomach as a wave of pain coursed through her. He ran to her side.

Once it eased up, she said, "Well, isn't this just fantastic." She shook her head in exasperation. "My water just broke."

 

Highwind X-Limit

While everyone else in St. Laurent was home celebrating, spending time with their families and loved ones, Elena Halstrom was scowling. She'd never been one for big holiday gatherings anyway, but this year, her parents were in Europe on vacation, so she was alone again.

Not that she wasn't used to it. In prep school, she'd always spent Christmas on her own, while all the other children left to be with their families over break.

Poor me, she thought, swallowing down her bitterness. Why should this year be any different? Besides, she had more important things to worry about these days.

At the moment, that included keeping an eye on the inept maintenance man who attempting to repair a power surge at the X-Limit. At least Elena wasn't the only one working over the holidays...

"Could you hand me that cord?" the electrician asked, looking down from his ladder and pointing.

"Yeah right. I'm not touching that," Elena sniffed. "Like I really need to be electrocuted on Christmas morning."

He sighed, and climbed down the ladder to grab it for himself. He bent over to retrieve it from the ground, and Elena admired the view.

He wasn't bad looking. Muscular, for sure. And he'd kept a bemused grin on his face, even when Elena was purposely acting rude to him.

She doubted he was the type to break up with his girlfriend and offer no apparent explanation or reasoning. Not like Miles.

Elena was still fuming over being dumped by that loser. She should have known better than to get involved with him in the first place. He was Kerrigan's brother, after all. What did she expect? The whole situation was only another on her list of reasons to dislike that family and the way they'd upended her life since coming to St. Laurent.

"I'm sorry," Elena said, changing her mind and coming over to help the electrician. She put a hand on his shoulder as he stood to face her. "I know I've been acting like a shrew to you. It's just been a bad morning for me."

"But it's Christmas," he said. "Why should you be sad?"

"Because I am, okay!" she barked. "I'm sure you don't understand, but this season can be kind of depressing when you don't have anybody to share it with."

"I'm working on Christmas morning. Do you think I'd be here if I had someplace better to be? Trust me, I understand."

Elena's hand lingered on his shoulder. She toyed with his shirt, then released him. "Well, maybe if you hurry up and finish this, we can get out of here and find something better to do with ourselves."

He smiled, handing her the power cord as he started back up the ladder. "Okay. Give it to me," he said, once he was perched atop the ladder.

Elena handed the wire to him. He reached for it, and she pulled away playfully at the last moment. "Come get it, if you really want it."

He reached out further, but suddenly lost his balance. Attempting to break his fall, he latched on to a handful of cords. He ripped them away from the monitors they were attached to as he crashed to the floor. He barreled into Elena, knocking them both off their feet.

"Oww! My leg!" he cried upon impact.

"Oww! My ... everything," Elena winced, trying to crawl out from underneath him.

Sparks shot from the television monitors, the outlets, then the power cut off completely. Only the windows brought any light now.

"You're the worst repairman ever," Elena muttered, sitting cross-legged in the dark.

 

Ormand Manor

"Morning, y'all!" Remy Ormand said, thrusting open the door to the manor. Beau and Kerri stood outside, cheeks red from the cold.

"Merry Christmas," Kerri said, her eyes bright. The couple stepped into the foyer, which had been redecorated to an acceptable measure by the household staff.

"You guys have got to try this," Remy said excitedly, leading them immediately into the kitchen. Horace took their coats, and the two followed Remy.

"Not your disgusting Christmas cider again," Beau said, crinkling his nose as Remy waved a mug in front of his face.

"You know you love it! Kerri'll try it, won't you?" he asked.

"Umm, sorry. I think I'll have to pass," she said, letting him down gently.

"Yeah, I don't want my unborn child fermenting in whatever the hell you put in that stuff." Beau added.

"Gross, man," Remy said, shaking his head and walking away from them.

Kerri and Beau shared a laugh. Things were less strained, less tense between them since Kerri revealed her pregnancy. They'd talked about the issues that stood between them and tried to repair their relationship for the sake of their child. Still, Beau knew that Kerri couldn't fully trust him because of this thing with Miles. Every day, it ate at him. Every day, he came closer to telling her everything he knew. But his fear was that it would only make things worse, that she would never be able to forgive him or Miles once she knew.

If Miles kept dragging his feet though, Beau knew he would have no choice. He couldn't carry on his relationship with this issue hovering between them for much longer...

"Where's everyone else?" Kerrigan asked, peeking into the dining room. "Are we the first to arrive?"

"You might be the only ones who show up," Remy said. "Who knows whether Charlie will even make it?"

"He hasn't talked to us since his overdose," Beau said, worried for his older brother.

"He didn't overdose," Remy said. "At least not intentionally. Come on, give the guy a break. He took the wrong shit. It could happen to anyone."

Beau didn't want to argue about it now, but he wasn't so sure he agreed with that. He just hoped his brother showed up today so they could see firsthand how he was holding up. "So where's Mom?" Beau asked, changing the subject.

"Out," Remy said with a shrug. "Who knows? Some crisis at the Highwind she had to go deal with. She said she'd be right back. You know how it goes, right?"

"Sure. She calls us all over here and practically forces us to spend time with her, then she runs out on us because somebody at the Highwind sneezed or something. Sounds familiar."

"If she's not back in a half an hour, I'm tearing this food apart," Remy threatened, picking at a tray of appetizers.

"She always does this. She wants us to think these family gatherings are the most important things in the world to her, but she drops us in a second for whatever's going on at the Highwind. Do you have any idea how much grief I'd get if I tried to pull something like that? If I didn't show up today, I'd never hear the end of it."

"Come on," Remy said, latching on to Beau's arm. "Quit your bitching and open a present or something. You're killing my buzz."

Remy attempted to drag his brother to the Christmas tree in the living room, but he was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Oh! That must be Charlie," Kerri said, following them to the front door.

Horace opened the door to a man none of them had ever seen before. He had silvery hair, a gift in his hands, and wore a priest's collar under his long overcoat. "Good afternoon," he said. "I'm Father Liam Bartlett."

"I'm Beau Ormand," Beau shook his hand. "This is my fiancée, Kerri, and my brother, Remy."

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Remy said. He scratched his head in confusion. "So, why are you here again?"

He chuckled. "I've got a gift for Ms. Ormand."

"How sweet," Kerri smiled. "She's not home at the moment--"

"--But I'm sure she'd want to see you," Beau finished. "Why don't you wait inside with us?"

Remy threw his arms wide. "Come on in!"

"I'd -- I'd love to," Father Bartlett said, slightly frightened by the overeager youngsters as they descended upon him and swept him into the manor.

From the curb, Vincent Guthrie sat in his car and watched as the Ormands led an older man into Giselle's home. Vincent couldn't hear what was going on, but he narrowed his eyes.

Had she really invited that old dinosaur to her family's Christmas celebration? Was Giselle seeing somebody else already?

 

Highwind X-Limit

When Giselle stepped into the darkened Highwind X-Limit, she walked right into the middle of a heated argument. The room was filtered by the light entering the windows, and Giselle could see Elena jabbing her finger into the chest of a maintenance worker she was berating.

"Oh, Giselle! Thank God you're here." Elena raced over to her. "This clumsy oaf was supposed to be fixing a power surge, but he ended up making things ten times worse."

"Help me! I think my leg's broken!" the maintenance man said, trying to stand, but falling back to the floor. "She made me fall off a ladder!"

"I didn't make you do anything, you klutz, now shut up! I'm trying to have a conversation here!" Elena fired.

"What the hell are you two rambling about?" Giselle asked.

"It's all his fault," Elena cried. "He blew the power, and I didn't know who else to call! I tried plugging the cords back in after he pulled them loose, but nothing's working!"

"Why don't you try calling the paramedics!" the electrician groaned. "I can't even stand!"

Giselle ignored the both of them. "Do you have a flashlight?"

"There might be one in my toolbox," the repairman said. "By the ladder."

Giselle fumbled around in the semi-darkness and found it. "I'm going to check the fusebox. Does anyone know where it is?" She wasn't yet familiar with the X-Limit's layout, but maybe she could reset the circuits.

Giselle stumbled around in the dark, nearly tripping over a rolled up extension cord on her way.

"Will you please call a doctor or something?" the man pleaded to Elena.

"Quit being a baby. You got us into this mess, and you're not going anywhere until we fix it."

"Will the two of you please shut up," Giselle said, whipping around to face them. As she turned to yell at them, she walked smack into a log column. "Oof!"

Something rumbled above her. It was a large, flatscreen monitor, attached to the pillar. The monitor rattled and came loose from the column, falling free.

Before Giselle knew what hit her, the television screen flattened her to the ground.

 

St. Laurent Community Hospital

"I can't do this, Charlie! I can't have this baby. Not now!" Martine Guthrie said, lying in a hospital bed.

Charlie stood next to her bedside, having chauffeured her to the hospital. "You may not have much of a choice," he said. Not what she wanted to hear, but his smile was gentle and reassuring.

"I thought I had a few more weeks, at least. I can't do this! Not until Tyson gets here." She leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes and willing the child inside her to stay there, stay put for another few days.

"It could be a false alarm. Don't these things happen a lot?"

"Not when your water breaks," she snapped. "Could you try calling Tyson again? Please?"

Charlie took her cell phone from his pocket. "Yeah, I'll try again. I'll be in the hall," he said, leaving her room to make the call.

Outside, he found Tyson's number in her phone and dialed. They'd tried calling him when Martine's water first broke, but he didn't answer and Charlie knew they needed to get to the hospital straight away. But now, he still wasn't picking up.

"Tyson, it's Charlie," he said to Tyson's voicemail. "Martine needs you. We're at the hospital in St. Laurent. She's going to have the baby." He tried to think of something else to say. "Just ... get here as soon as you can, okay?"

He ended the call, frustrated, then he had another idea. He dialed another number in Martine's phone, Josie, who also wasn't available at the moment. "Damn," he said, hanging up.

He returned to Martine's room, to her hopeful expression. "Did you get a hold of him?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Sorry. I tried Josie too, but it went straight to voicemail. "I left Tyson a message. Should I do the same for Josie?"

Martine shrugged. "I don't know..."

"Don't worry. Someone will call back. Someone will show up. I'm sure."

Martine nodded, wanting to believe him. Then, she was hit by another bout of contractions just as her doctor arrived on the scene. The doctor examined her, while Martine reached out to squeeze Charlie's hand. "I'm not having this baby without Tyson!"

"Ms. Guthrie, breathe," the doctor coached.

A particularly sharp series of labor pains overwhelmed her, and she reconsidered her statement. "Okay, okay! Forget Tyson! Just get this thing out of me!" she groaned.

Charlie held on to her hand as the contractions subsided, then let go as he stepped away from the bed.

"Charlie? Where are you going?" Martine asked, tears in the corners of her eyes.

He looked down at her. She was fearful -- scared and alone.

"I have to call my family, tell them I'm here with you," he said.

"Don't leave me!" she pleaded. "I can't do this without you. I need you..."

Charlie paused at the door. "I'm not going anywhere. You've got me," he promised. Charlie returned to Martine's side, not knowing what else he could do to comfort her. For her sake, he prayed that somehow Tyson managed to show up ... before he missed out.