Previously…
– Jimmy and Kathleen were married. Elly returned to King’s Bay for the occasion and shared a friendly reunion with her ex, Travis.
– Spencer plowed ahead with plans to get his life in order so that he can challenge Natalie for custody of Peter. Meanwhile, Jason struggled to accept that the boy he has raised since birth isn’t his child.
– Ex-girlfriends Samantha and Tempest had a pleasant conversation at Jason and Natalie’s wedding, and Samantha agreed to give hanging out another chance.
– Rosie tailed Jesse’s contact and witnessed him making what appeared to be a drug deal. When she stopped his customer, she was shocked to recognize Christian!

Plates bearing the remains of chocolate cake and cups half-full of coffee cover the tables inside Bill’s on the Pier, where Kathleen Bundy and Jimmy Trask’s wedding reception is in full swing. The chairs have been cleared from the area of the restaurant that was used for the ceremony, transforming the space into a dancefloor, where guests have paired up to dance to John Legend’s “All of Me.”

Brent Taylor holds Claire Fisher against him as they sway to the music. She rests her head against his chest, taking in the other guests, the lovely lavender floral arrangements, and the sense of joy floating through the air.

“This has been really nice,” she says as she looks up at Brent.

He smiles at her. “It has. What a relief to get through a wedding where everyone’s actually happy at the end, isn’t it?”

“It’s a pleasant change.”

They continue to dance in peaceful silence for a few seconds. Claire rests her head against Brent’s body again, but then she feels the deep inhale that indicates he is about to speak again — only he doesn’t. Once again, she looks up.

“What?” she asks.

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

He breathes in sharply again, and his lips part.

“I was just thinking about something,” he finally says.

Claire raises an eyebrow. “And that something would be…?”

“Do you ever think about doing it again?” Brent asks sheepishly as he glances around the reception. “You know…”

She slows her dancing to a stop. “Getting married?”

He nods.

“I do,” she admits after a pause of her own. “It’s… I really had no family to speak of when I was young. My mother remarried and started a new life, and my father was… my father. It’s always been something I wanted.”

“Sorry to bring up something painful,” Brent says.

“It’s okay. It’s part of my life.”

“I think about it, too.”

She meets his gaze. “You do?”

“Would I have asked if I didn’t?” He chuckles. “I never thought Molly and I would get divorced. But we did, and having a family unit like that is something I miss. When I see how long my dad has spent without a partner, since my mom died…”

Now Claire is the one to laugh. “Boy, what an uplifting pair we are.”

“Ha.”

They resume dancing, as Brent closes his arms around her back again.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he says.

“Feel what way?”

“That you’re interested in getting married again.”

She throws her neck back to meet his eyes. “Oh, really?”

“Really.”

Before he can say more, however, he freezes suddenly, bringing their dance to a stop. He reaches for the phone in his pocket.

“Sorry,” he tells Claire as he pulls it out.

She waves a hand. “It might be work. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He plants a quick kiss on her cheek as he sees the ID on the screen and answers the call. Claire immediately notes the concern on his face as he steps back.

“You have an update?” he asks into the phone.

Claire stands back and tries not to eavesdrop, but the song winds down, and she can see how troubled her date is. He doesn’t blink as he listens, interjecting the occasional question or exclamation, until he hangs up and returns to her, phone still in hand.

“I’m really sorry,” he says, “but that was Jimenez. I have to get down to the station ASAP.”

—–

The rain-slicked pavement glistens beneath the glow of the streetlights as Jason Fisher parks his car curbside. He hurries through the light downfall to his brother’s house and rings the doorbell.

Although there are lights on inside, an uncomfortably long stretch of time passes without any seeming reaction. He is about to ring again when he hears footsteps. Finally, he sees a person approaching through the frosted glass pane, and then his nephew opens the door.

“Jason. Hey,” Spencer says with obvious surprise, perhaps even trepidation.

“Hey.” Jason notices the cardboard boxes stacked by the staircase. “You’re moving out?”

“Yeah. I found a place of my own.”

Awkwardness dangles in the air between the two men.

“If you’re looking for Tim,” Spencer says, “he isn’t–”

“Tim isn’t the one I came to see,” Jason interrupts. “You and I — we’re way overdue for a conversation.”

Samantha Fisher’s heart flutters inside her chest as she folds up her umbrella and opens the door to 322 Bar & Grill. When she steps inside, she immediately spots Tempest Banks at the bar. After drawing a deep breath, Samantha approaches her ex-girlfriend.

When Tempest turns and sees her, Samantha raises one hand in an awkward wave. Tempest slides off the barstool to greet Samantha with a hug. The contact feels both incredibly natural and very foreign to Sam after all this time, and her hands hover millimeters over Tempest’s back.

“Hey,” they both say, almost but not quite speaking over one another.

Samantha takes the seat beside Tempest, and as she does, the bartender places a pint of beer in front of Tempest.

“What can I get you?” he asks Sam.

She orders a mojito, and then it is just the two of them.

“How’s your day?” Tempest asks.

“Um, it’s been good. I had to do a little bit work, and then I went to have dinner with my grandparents.”

“They’re still here?”

“They said they wanted to stay long enough to get Aunt Natalie settled in a new place.”

Tempest wags her head back and forth. “That crazy heffa is lucky they don’t toss her ass into traffic, after what she did to Jason.”

Samantha finds it difficult to hold back a snicker.

“She’s my aunt, so I shouldn’t laugh at that, but… yeah,” she says. “I think her parents have always spoiled her.”

“And that’s why she thinks she can get away with that shit!”

Through another laugh, Sam replies, “You aren’t wrong.” She watches the bartender muddling mint down the bar. “How are you? It’s… it’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too. I feel like… I dunno… like there’s so much I need to say, I don’t even know where to start.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” Samantha says. “I believe that you know what you did was wrong, and why. And it was wrong–”

“I got that. Loud and clear.”

“But what you told me about my mom… that was something I would’ve, or should’ve, found out eventually, anyway. As painful as it was. What happens between my mom and me now doesn’t have a lot to do with your part of it.”

“Still wasn’t my thing to get mixed up in,” Tempest says, “but thanks.”

The bartender places Samantha’s drink in front of her, and she thanks him. Tempest picks up her own glass.

“It really is good to see you again,” she says.

“Same.” Samantha lifts her cocktail to toast. “To fresh starts.”

“I’m down,” Tempest says. “To fresh starts.”

—–

With Claire by his side, Brent uses his key card to pass through the lobby of the King’s Bay Police Department and back into the depths of the building. They navigate their way to an interrogation room that is much less gritty than the stereotypical version from TV and movies; it is more like a compact conference room, with a number of mismatched chairs clustered around an oak table.

Immediately Brent’s gaze locks upon his son, seated at the table with his hood pulled over his head. The heavy silence that fills the room feels stifling.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up,” Brent says to Rosie Jimenez, who stands in the corner of the room leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“I thought I should let you handle this,” the younger officer says.

Claire lingers at the open door. “I’m going to go get a coffee. Is there anything I can do?”

“You don’t have to hang around,” Brent tells her.

“I want to.”

He gives her a grateful smile. “I’ll come find you in a bit.”

Claire exits, closing the door behind herself. Brent faces his teenage son, who is slumped in his seat.

“Take off the hood,” he says sternly.

The teenager makes no movement to do so.

“Caleb,” Brent says. “Hood. Off.”

With a grumble, Caleb obliges. His dark hair is messy, and he actively avoids eye contact with his dad and Rosie.

“I wasn’t sure which twin it was at first,” Rosie explains.

“Definitely Caleb,” Brent says.

“He showed me his ID and cooperated with everything I asked him to do.”

“That’s something.” Brent clamps both hands over the back of a chair. “Caleb, are you serious? Buying drugs?”

“I swear, it’s the only time,” Caleb mumbles. “A friend asked me to run an errand. I didn’t realize…”

“Didn’t realize you were meeting with a drug dealer? What did you think the cash was for?”

The teenager is quiet for a frustratingly long duration of time. Brent and Rosie trade a quick look, knowing that one of the best ways to get him to crack will be to let him stew until it is too much to bear.

“I’m not under arrest, right?” Caleb finally asks.

“No, Officer Jimenez was nice enough to leave that part up to me,” Brent says. “If I were in her position, I don’t know that I’d have been so generous.” He shakes his head. “I am so disappointed in you, Caleb.”

At last, Caleb chances very tentative eye contact with his father.

“Now that you’re here,” Caleb says, “what are you gonna do to me?”

—–

“We’re gonna call it the Wild Lady,” Jimmy explains with a broad grin on his face and a bottle of beer in his hand. “I’m thinking we get a mechanical bull in there, make it the kinda place King’s Bay is missing.”

“Sounds like some of the places we used to hang out when we were younger,” Danielle Taylor comments as the wedding reception continues to swirl around them.

Jimmy laughs. “Maybe a little cleaner.”

“I think it sounds great,” their daughter says. “You’ve been saying ever since the bookstore shut down that you wanted to open another business. This sounds like something you’ll be great at.”

“Thanks, El. And what’s even better, I get to run it with my beautiful bride…”

As if on cue, Kathleen comes sweeping up to them in her simple, flowing white dress.

“Did y’all get some cake?” she asks merrily.

Danielle touches a hand to her stomach. “Too much. It was great.”

“This is all a little bit different from the punch and pie I usually have at a party,” Kathleen says, “but it’s been so nice, huh?”

“It’s a great wedding,” Elly says. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

Kathleen beams. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you — both of you — would wanna be here.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Danielle tells the newlyweds.

Across the room, Travis finishes refilling his coffee and turns toward the dancefloor. He sees Elly talking with her birth parents and her new stepmother. In some ways, it’s as if no time has passed, given how familiar it has been talking with her tonight. But it also feels completely different than it did back in college, as if they both become more fully themselves in the time since then.

“Having fun?” Tim Fisher asks as he sidles up to his son.

“I guess so. Yeah.” Travis sips his coffee. “Seems like Kathleen got the wedding of her dreams.”

“I’d say so, yeah,” Tim agrees. “How are things with you and Elly?”

“What do you mean?”

“You guys have a lot of history.”

“We’re cool now. A lot has gone down since she left town. She’s doing really well. She passed the bar.”

Tim nods. “Do you think you might…?”

“What?” Travis screws up his face. “We’re exes, that’s all. It’s nice to see her.”

Tim pauses for a beat before continuing. “Still thinking about Rosie?”

With a heavy sigh, Travis says, “I don’t even know. I saw her the other day, actually.”

“Really? How was that?”

“Very… straightforward. She had a question for me about work. Her work.”

Tim cocks his head. “Everything okay? Is this about that…” He glances around carefully and lowers his voice. “That friend of the drug dealer who works here?”

“Sort of. Yeah. We didn’t get a chance to talk much beyond that. She has a way of keeping things really… businesslike.”

“Son,” Tim says gently, “if you aren’t over her yet, you should let her know that. She strikes me as the kind of person who pulls away because she thinks she’s supposed to — which makes sense, after everything that happened last spring.”

“I guess.” After another sip of coffee, Travis turns sharply. “What about you? That sucks about Sonja.”

Tim struggles to find words and eventually settles on a simple, “Yeah.”

“Don’t you think something else could be going on? Something she isn’t telling you?” Travis posits. “It sounds like one minute, everything was fine, and the next, she’s out of here.”

“I tried calling her a few minutes ago,” Tim admits. “Went straight to voicemail. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, that’s a bummer, and I’m sorry,” his son says.

“Yeah. What do you say you put down that coffee and we get one more beer? I think both of us could use it.”

Travis places his coffee down on a nearby table. “I think you’re a very smart man.”

—–

“So we’re trying to come up with copy for the website, and all the director wants is a bunch of Orange is the New Black jokes,” Samantha says before taking the last drink of her cocktail. “It was crazy.”

Tempest cackles in that carefree way Samantha remembers so well. “I mean, you tell some white dude it’s a prison-themed fashion line… what do you expect?”

“I thought Trevor was going to wind up in prison for murdering him.” Samantha sets down her glass on the bar. “Aside from stuff like that, work has been really great.”

“Look at you, working in fashion. And you thought you couldn’t do it.”

Sam shrugs her shoulders. “It’s been an adjustment.”

“Sounds like you’re killing it.”

“I bet I could turn that into a prison pun.”

They share a laugh, and as it naturally fades, Samantha feels the warm glow of the alcohol making it easier to look into Tempest’s face.

“I’m really glad we’re able to do this,” Samantha says.

“You’re glad?” Tempest lets out a whistle. “Think about how I feel. I thought you were never, ever gonna talk to me again.”

“I wasn’t sure I would, either. But… you’ve really shown me that you understand that you crossed a line. I don’t believe in holding grudges, not if the other person is genuinely sorry and trying to change. People do learn from their mistakes. I believe that’s the mark of a good person.”

Tempest swallows hard, hit by sudden emotion. “I’m trying. I really am.”

“I know.”

The heaviness of the moment sits between them. Then Tempest slaps her hand on the bar and jolts upright.

“How about one more drink?”

Samantha breathes in sharply. The idea is tempting. This feels so comfortable, so familiar. Her mind spins. Down the bar, she sees a man and woman laughing together, the woman’s hand straying to the man’s knee.

“I shouldn’t,” Samantha says. “I told Spencer I’d help him pack his things.”

“Now? After you’ve had two drinks? I know what kinda lightweight you are, Samantha Fisher.”

Tempest touches her hand to Sam’s, and both women stop at the current that passes between them.

Samantha hesitates. She really does believe that Tempest is sorry for what she did, and all she has wanted is for them to be together, with no drama. The past year has been difficult in that regard, but now it all does seem possible again.

“I promised him,” she says quickly, attempting to shake off her trance. She told Spencer that she would help him exactly for this reason — because she knew, after a drink or two, that she would be tempted to speed things along. No matter how good she is feeling, however, she knows that she needs to proceed carefully here. A drunken hook-up is not going to resolve everything.

She unzips her purse.

“Hold it right there,” Tempest says. She plops a credit card down on the bar. “This is on me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, but I want to. It’s the least I can do to thank you for actually spending time with me. For giving me a chance.”

Tempest smiles broadly, and her front teeth jut out ever-so-slightly over her lower lip, the way they always do. There is something so pure about her joy when she is like this.

“Thank you,” Samantha says.

Tempest pauses to hand the bartender her card. Then she turns back.

“No. Thank you, Sam.”

Samantha feels herself getting trapped in another moment of eye contact, but it is the good kind of trapped — the kind in which she could easily lose a night or a weekend.

“I should get going,” she says hurriedly, sliding off the stool. “I’m gonna get an Uber. Thanks again.”

“I’m gonna text you,” Tempest says.

Samantha grins. “Good. Have a nice night.”

“You, too, Sam.”

Samantha rushes out of the restaurant, not even bothering to unfold her umbrella until she is out on the street awaiting her car. The rain has slowed to the lightest of drizzles, but she nevertheless hopes that it might drag her back into reality and pound some sense into her before she darts back inside and insists that Tempest come home with her.

“Be smart,” she says to herself as she sees her Uber’s headlights coming toward her. Even once she is safely in the car, however, she is unable to remove the smile from her face.

—–

Like a deer caught in headlights, Spencer’s eyes widen at Jason’s proclamation.

“Can I come in?” his uncle asks.

“Uh, sure.” Spencer steps out of the way to let him into the house.

They linger in the entryway before Spencer abruptly speaks again:

“I know I said it after the wedding, but I want to tell you again how sorry I am for what happened. I only found out about Peter right before I went down those stairs–”

“I know.” Jason stops him with a raised palm. “I wish I’d known there was even a chance I wasn’t Peter’s father, but I understand why you didn’t want to say anything until you had the test results. Hell, I even understand why Natalie didn’t. It’s the lying after that that I really can’t tolerate.”

“Okay.” Spencer nods; the gesture is much more contrite and cowed than anything Jason has ever seen from him.

“What I want to ask you is simple,” Jason says.

Spencer blinks.

“Do you want to be a father?” Jason asks him. “I keep second-guessing how to proceed here, and I realize that a big part of that is because I don’t really know what you want out of the situation.”

“He’s my son,” Spencer says. “So, yeah. I didn’t even know who my real parents were until I was grown up. I’m not going to do that to my own kid.”

Jason purses his lips.

“I have a lot to learn, but I’ll figure it out,” Spencer adds. “I’m going back to work at Vision, I have a good place to live, and I have my trust fund and what I inherited from Philip.”

“I wouldn’t ever want to stand in your way,” Jason says, “or keep you from him.”

“But you aren’t going to back off completely.”

“I don’t know.” Jason drums his fingers on the nearby console table. “He’s been my son since he was born. To just give him up…”

“I get that, and I’m sorry this is happening. I feel like I’m only now a real part of this family. I don’t want to start some civil war.”

“As angry as I am at Natalie, I don’t want to cut her out of Peter’s life entirely. But maybe if you and I present a united front…”

“This is such a damn mess,” Spencer says.

Jason groans. “Welcome to adult life.”

Caleb waits nervously for Brent’s response.

“Have you told Mom yet?” the teen finally asks.

“Not yet,” Brent says, “but only because I wanted to get the full story first. Don’t even think about asking me not to tell her.”

“Dad, I only–”

“You only got picked up by a police officer buying, what, Ecstasy?”

“MDMA,” Rosie chimes in. “That’s what it seems like, anyway. I sent it to the lab to be sure.”

“That’s what it was supposed to be,” Caleb says quietly.

Suddenly Brent slams his hands down on the table. “Dammit, Caleb. Why would you…?”

“I told you. I was doing a friend a favor. She couldn’t pick it up, and–”

“Do you have any idea how many things are wrong with what you just said?” Brent asks. “Why are you hanging out with people who are doing drugs? How long have you been doing drugs that you can be so casual about this?”

“I only did it once,” Caleb says.

“And who is this friend?” Brent continues. “If you’re doing this to impress a girl–”

“I’m not.”

“Who is she?” Brent folds his arms. “Come on. Talk.”

“I’m not selling her out. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She sent you on a drug deal!”

“Yeah, but it was my choice to agree.” Caleb sits back in his chair, all of a sudden obstinate. “That’s all you’re getting.”

Brent shoots Rosie an exasperated look. “Are you kidding? You’ve wandered into a major investigation. The District Attorney is all over this thing. You’re incredibly lucky that the officer who picked you up knows our family and decided to call me first.”

“So now you’re gonna go off and arrest my friend?” Caleb asks.

“I didn’t say that,” his father replies. “But we might need to talk to her.”

“Dad…”

Brent sets his jaw. “You have two options right now: either you tell me what I need to know, or I can place you under arrest and you can go through the entire process of a lawyer trying to cut a deal for you.”

“Mom would kill you if you did that.”

“Your mother will probably kill you anyway when she finds out you got busted buying drugs. You don’t have a ton of leverage here, kid.”

Caleb sighs and drops his head into his hands.

Rosie steps closer to Brent and says to him, in a half-whisper, “If we can use this bust to get Jesse, we can pick him up on legitimate charges and use that to get him to turn on Diego. We’re close.”

“I know,” Brent says. “This is exactly what Audrey Tam wanted. And we can keep your name out of this entirely if this seems like a random bust that opened the door. As much as I hate to say it given the circumstances… good work.”

She responds with a dutiful nod.

“So what’s it going to be?” Brent asks his son. “Are you ready to talk?”

END OF EPISODE 946

Will Caleb cooperate with the authorities?
How will Molly react to Caleb’s brush with the law?
Can Jason and Spencer work together against Natalie?
Talk about all this and more in the comments below!

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