Previously…
– Claire confided in Tempest that she hoped Brent would propose to her as a Christmas present.
– Molly discovered that she was pregnant as a result of her and Brent’s one-night stand. She finally got up the courage to tell him, not realizing Claire was also there to hear the news.
– Matt impulsively decided to visit his brother, Jake, in hopes of mending the rift between them.
– Loretta Ragan appeared in King’s Bay!

A blast of cold strikes Natalie Bishop as she stands at the open front door of her home, though it has little to do with the winter weather. Back inside the house, she can hear Michael Bublé’s voice crooning “I’ll Be Home For Christmas,” but the holiday suddenly seems a universe away. She stares at her visitor in shock.

“What’s the matter, Natalie?” the older woman asks with a grin. “Aren’t you going to invite your mother-in-law in for Christmas dinner?”

Loretta Ragan’s green eyes seem to be boring into Natalie, and she cannot stand it. Quickly she averts her gaze to the Louboutins on her feet as she attempts to gather herself.

“Loretta. It’s, um, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she says.

Pursing her lips, Loretta looks Natalie over.

“What are you, um, what are you doing here?” Natalie asks.

“It’s Christmas, of course. What better time to meet that adorable grandson of mine? Where is little Peter, anyway?” 

Natalie feels frozen. In the distance, her family and their guests are enjoying Christmas dinner, blissfully unaware of what has just landed on their doorstep. It takes reaching for her cell phone before Natalie realizes that she left it in the kitchen; as much as she wants to call 911 and report that this crazy woman has somehow escaped prison and made it across the country, she can’t.

“Spencer!” she calls out instead. “Could you come to the front door?”

“Why don’t I just come inside so we can all get caught up?” Loretta suggests.

Natalie remains firmly planted in the doorway. If this nutjob wants to get into her house, she’s going to have to go through Natalie.

“What’s up?” Spencer Ragan asks as he comes into the foyer seconds later, though it feels more like hours to Natalie.

He stops dead in his tracks when he looks past Natalie and sees who is at the door.

Spencer’s jaw gapes as he asks the woman who raised him, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“That’s no way to greet your mother,” Loretta says. “And on Christmas, no less! Come here and give me a hug, darling.”

Spencer stands side-by-side with Natalie in the doorway, blocking their home from Loretta.

“I’m going to ask again: what are you doing here?” Spencer says. “And then I’m calling 911.”

—–

In another area of town, another woman stands at another open door, her determination making her momentarily resistant to the cold air.

“I’m pregnant, Brent, so we can’t just talk away what happened between us,” Molly Taylor blurts out. “Is that what you knew I was going to say?” 

At once, she sees the color drain from her ex-husband’s face.

“You’re what?” another voice asks from somewhere behind Brent. Molly recognizes it immediately, well before Claire Fisher steps out from behind the door. 

Molly’s stomach drops. “Claire…”

All three of them stand there, unmoving, eyes darting around. Molly feels her breath go heavy and her fingers tingle numbly. In the corner of the living room, the Christmas tree’s multicolored lights continue to twinkle undisturbed.

“I just came to tell Brent that I’m– I’m pregnant,” Molly stammers.

“You raced over here, out of breath, to tell your ex-husband that you’re pregnant?” Claire questions. “Why?”

Brent and Molly’s eyes flicker guiltily toward one another for a split-second.

“It doesn’t matter,” Molly says. “It was a stupid impulse.”

Now Claire to Brent. “Then what happened between the two of you?” 

His knuckles turn white as he grips the edge of the front door. He can feel the room closing in around himself, as if all the air has been sucked out and the walls are tightening.

“We should talk,” he says, reaching for Claire’s hand.

She pulls away. “Talk about what?”

Before either Brent or Molly can find further words, Danielle Taylor steps into the room, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel. She wears a long-sleeved, paisley boho dress, and her blonde hair falls softly over her shoulders.

“What’s going on out here?” she asks, before stopping with surprise. “Molly. Hi.”

“Hi, Danielle,” Molly says to her former sister-in-law.

Danielle’s eyes shift among the three of them. “I heard voices being raised…”

“Brent was just about to explain something to me,” Claire says pointedly.

“We should go somewhere quiet,” he says.

“I don’t want to go somewhere quiet!” Claire snaps. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“Y’all okay out here?” Tempest Banks asks as she, too, hurries in from the kitchen.

The moment Claire spots her foster daughter, she forces herself to swallow whatever she was about to bark out next. No matter how grown-up Tempest might be, Claire still feels a parental responsibility not to melt down in front of her.

“I’m just going to go,” Molly says. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

She turns to leave, but before she can make it a single step away from the door, Claire speaks up:

“Molly. Wait.”

Tentatively, Molly turns back around.

“I don’t think you should go anywhere,” Claire says, doing her best to maintain her cool. “Not until I understand exactly what’s going on here.”

—–

As cheers fly up from the football game playing on the large, flatscreen TV, Matt Gray stands under the angled roof of his brother’s converted attic.

“I’m not doing this again,” he tells Jake with resolve. “Yeah, I screwed up. But we had nothing to do with each other for years and years. We’re all each other has left. So there’s gotta be a way to make things right again.”

Jake stares back at him thoughtfully, a barely contained rage simmering just below the surface. He rises from his seat on the oversized sectional sofa and takes a few steps toward Matt.

“That’s the thing, little brother,” Jake says. “I don’t know if we can make things right, as you put it.” 

“We’re family. It’s Christmas.”

“Being family doesn’t give you a blank check to write out for whatever you want, whenever you want it.”

“That’s not what I did,” Matt says.

“You tricked your daughter and her boyfriend into putting their kid up for adoption!”

Matt’s mouth opens before he even has words to speak, and it flaps closed again with a frustrated grunt.

“My son could’ve died in that car accident because he was trying to help Tori after the mess you caused,” Jake spits. “He’s a teenager, a new driver — he shouldn’t have been put in that position–” 

“I know. I’m sorry about that. I am. But Marcus is okay.”

“Yeah, after being laid up all summer, missing the whole football season, and still doing physical therapy, he’s okay. You don’t get credit for that.”

“I’m grateful for it. That’s all.” Matt takes a deep breath and releases it slowly; as he does, he wonders if it was stupid to come here, if all this is a waste of energy. But he hates the idea that his relationship with his brother could fade back into oblivion.

“You’re lucky, that’s what you are,” Jake says, jabbing his index finger in Matt’s direction. “But that’s the thing, man: it was all luck. And we can’t always count on that. So what I’m left with is… I don’t think I can trust you.”

“Jake. Come on–”

“’Come on’? Matt, you slept with my wife, got her pregnant, and drove her to take her own life.” With each word, Jake’s voice rises in volume and furor. “And I still forgave you — and yet we wind up like this. So you tell me, brother: how am I supposed to trust you ever again?” 

—–

Loretta lets out a caustic chuckle.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she tells Spencer. “There’s no need for the police.”

Spencer nevertheless pulls his iPhone from his pocket. “Considering how you’re supposed to be in prison on the other side of the country…”

“Parole is a wonderful thing,” Loretta says. “Giving those who have more than served their time the opportunity to reenter society properly…”

“You were paroled?” Natalie asks. “How?”

Loretta regards her with an annoyed huff before explaining, “My attorneys informed me that it was a possibility, and I decided to keep that possibility to myself in case it didn’t come to fruition. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

We would’ve all been so disappointed to have your crazy ass locked up forever, Natalie thinks, though she dares not voice the sentiment for fear of setting off her unhinged mother-in-law.

“They let you out,” Spencer says, his flat delivery expressing all the disbelief that Natalie wishes she could express herself.

With lips pursed, Loretta nods. “I was released a few days ago. I took some time to get my affairs in order back east and then thought, what better way to rejoin my family than to surprise them on Christmas?”

“We’re definitely surprised,” Natalie says, somewhat under her breath.

“Then please, invite me in already,” the older woman says. “I’ll catch my death of cold out here.”

Spencer and Natalie hesitate for an instant. From the dining room, the sound of a laugh — which Natalie recognizes as Samantha’s — reaches out to them.

“Oh, it sounds like the celebration is under way already,” Loretta says, and with that, she bustles right past them and into the foyer. Her gaze scans the space, moving from side to side and bottom to top, taking in the wide staircase and the vaulted ceiling.

“A bit new-construction for my liking, but overall, quite nice, Spencer,” she says.

Behind her back, Natalie and Spencer exchange a look of terror.

“Which way to the dining room?” Loretta asks, but she is on her way before either of them can muster a response.

—–

Like a trapped animal, Brent’s eyes dart around the room, looking for some kind of escape. But despite the open door and the mostly clear path to the kitchen, he knows that there is no way out of this now.

“Would you guys please give us a minute?” he asks Danielle and Tempest, who are still standing at the other end of the room, uncertain what they’ve stumbled upon.

Tempest looks to Claire. “You okay?”

Nodding back, Claire says quietly, “I’ll be fine. Let us sort this out.”

“You holler if you need me,” Tempest responds. With her jaw set and one final, ominous look at the whole scene, she heads back to the kitchen. Danielle nearly says something else, then thinks better of it and follows her.

Once the three of them are alone, Claire moves past Brent and closes the front door. She feels herself shaking; an anxiety verging on physical pain has overtaken her body. She keeps looking at Brent, expecting to see the man she knows so well, the man she loves, but he suddenly appears to be a stranger.

“I need to know what’s going on,” she says. “Now.”

Molly inhales loudly and finally says, “I’m pregnant.”

“How long has this been going on?” Claire asks. A tense, almost unbearable moment of silence passes. “How long?”

Brent closes his eyes as he forces out the words: “It only happened once.”

Teeth gritted and eyes flaring, Claire demands, “When? When was it?”

Molly stares down at the floor.

“The night of The Wild Lady’s grand opening,” Brent says, each syllable sounding like pure agony.

Claire sucks in a sharp breath of realization. “You dropped me off at the hospital for work. And then you… what? Ran right to her?”

Molly shakes her head. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like, Molly?” Claire asks.

“I’d heard Molly didn’t come to the opening because she wasn’t feeling well,” Brent tries to explain. “I was worried it was because of smoke inhalation from the car fire, so I…”

“So you rushed over to her house,” Claire finishes for him. “A text message would’ve worked.”

Brent runs a hand over his face. “I didn’t go there with any intention of… with any idea that would happen.”

“Then how did it happen?” Claire demands, losing control of the volume of her voice. Tears suddenly well in her eyes. “You know what? I don’t even want to know.”

“Claire, I never wanted you to get hurt, and I know Brent didn’t, either,” Molly says.

“I’d say it’s a little late for that,” Claire says through gritted teeth. “Because whatever we had, Brent — whatever I let myself think we have — it’s over.”

—–

In the kitchen, Tempest stays close to the doorway as she listens to the drama unfolding in the other room.

“We should give them their privacy,” Danielle says from her post at the stove, where she is finishing up the mashed potatoes for Christmas dinner.

“If they want privacy, they can go somewhere private,” Tempest says over her shoulder. “I wanna make sure Claire’s okay.”

Danielle adds some chopped garlic into the pot. “They probably just need some time to sort things out.”

Tempest is silent for several seconds while she listens.

“Sounds like the only thing anyone’s gotta sort out,” she tells Danielle, “is how bad your trifling-ass brother is gonna pay for screwing over Claire.”

Danielle lets out an anguished sigh as she attempts to keep her focus on the mashed potatoes.

—–

“I’m not asking you to forget,” Matt says as calmly as he can manage. “What happened between Nicole and me — that was unforgivable. But you got past it, enough to be my brother again.”

He stares down Jake, hoping to make some kind of dent in the stony facade. But he gets nothing in return.

“I still think about how that all went,” Matt continues. “You think I don’t think about going back in time and changing it? But I can’t. And I hate what happened to her — if I’d known she was spiraling like that–”

“Because you tried to break up her marriage.”

“I didn’t– I don’t know what I was doing, but my goal wasn’t to ruin either of your lives.” Matt pauses as a fresh wave of grief, still so palpable after all these years, washes over him. “I screwed up. Big time. But I didn’t kill Nicole.”

Jake crosses to the window that overlooks the front yard and street. He cracks it open and breathes in the winter air, slowly, methodically.

“She was my wife!” he shouts suddenly. “I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with her. And you– you were reckless with her, with her heart, and she wound up dead.”

He gazes out the window, breathing hard. Matt can see the genuine emotion and pain in his brother, even from behind, and he moves toward him, feeling compelled to bridge the gap between them.

“I am so sorry,” Matt says. “Really. Truly. I swear, I learned a lesson from this — I can’t try and make things go the way I want, even if it’s to protect my kid. Sarah and I, we lost a granddaughter because of this–”

“Stop!” Jake barks, swinging around abruptly to face him. “Just stop!”

“Jake–”

“I can’t hear this right now.”

Matt moves closer, reaching out to his brother. In response, Jake pulls away, leaning backward.

“Jake, just calm down,” Matt says.

“I need you to leave me alone!” Jake shouts, and as he tries to twist away from Matt, he leans back even further. The rest seems to happen in slow-motion: Jake’s foot slipping off the door; his body tumbling backward; his torso hurtling out the window.

“Jake!” Matt screams, and he reaches out to grab his brother’s leg, but it is too late. He can do nothing but watch in horror as his hand grabs thin air and Jake plummets out the attic window.

—–

“Everyone,” Spencer calls out as he hurries to follow Loretta into the dining room, “this is my, uh, my mother. Loretta.”

Around the dining room table, forks clink down on plates as the guests look up in surprise and confusion. Natalie arrives in the room behind her husband and mother-in-law.

“Merry Christmas, everyone,” Loretta says.

Claudia Bishop rises from her seat and extends her hand. “Claudia Bishop, Natalie’s mother. It’s nice to meet you.”

The two older women shake hands as Bree Halston casts a wary look down the table at the new arrival.

Diane leans over to Samantha. “What, was Hannibal Lecter booked?” she mutters.

“Spencer, would you be a dear and arrange an extra place setting?” Loretta asks. “Afterward, you can show me to the guest room.”

Spencer freezes in place.

“You know, it’s kind of chaos here with Peter,” he says after gulping. “Why don’t we book you a room at the Metropolitan Inn?”

“I very much doubt that a town like this has a hotel that would be up to my standards,” Loretta says breezily.

“I really think you’d like it,” Spencer responds.

Loretta waves away the comment. “Besides, I’d like nothing more than to spend some time with my grandson.” Seeing Spencer’s hesitation, she turns to Natalie.

“Natalie, why don’t we go in the kitchen for a moment? I could use a glass of wine after my travels,” Loretta says.

“There’s wine on the table,” Natalie says.

Loretta gives it the briefest of glances. “I’d prefer something other than a Merlot. Come, please.”

After exchanging a harried look with Spencer, Natalie follows Loretta into the kitchen.

Bree waits until the women are gone before whispering to Diane, “Aunt Diane, I thought that lady was supposed to be in jail.”

“If there were any justice in the world, she would be,” Diane says. “Spencer, what the hell is going on?”

At the end of the table, Spencer shakes his head. “She says she was paroled. And I have a bad feeling that she’s telling the truth.”

—–

After closing the pocket door that separates the kitchen from the dining room, Loretta stations herself at the island. Natalie retrieves a wine glass from an upper cabinet.

“Is cabernet okay?” Natalie asks. “Or would you like a white?”

“White would be wonderful. But please, no Chardonnay.” Loretta grimaces to herself before continuing. “Now, Natalie. I believe we have some things to get straight.”

Natalie tries not to let her growing panic show as she moves to the wine refrigerator on the other side of the island.

“I can see that my darling son is a bit reluctant to have me stay here,” Loretta says, keeping her voice quiet enough so that it will not travel back to the dining room. “And while I’m sure he will get over his trepidation in time… I’d prefer not to wait.”

As she pulls a bottle of sauvignon blanc from the wine fridge, Natalie’s mind races to come up with a reply.

“I’m sure Spencer is just processing,” she says shakily.

“Of course he is. Who better than his wife to help him down that road, though?”

Natalie stands, wine bottle and glass in her hands. “I don’t know how much Spencer has told you, but we don’t really have a… traditional marriage. Meaning, I don’t know that my opinion carries much weight with him.”

Loretta’s red-coated lips stretch out in another grin; Natalie can’t help but read it as sinister.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to convince him that it’s best I stay here,” Loretta says. “The woman who hired Sonja Kahele to drug my son and made her think that I was the one who’d hired her should be capable of that much, don’t you think?” 

Natalie’s breath catches, and she sets both the glass and bottle down on the granite-topped island.

“You’re clever, I’ll give you that,” Loretta adds. “But don’t you think for a second that Spencer wouldn’t win full custody of Peter if what you did were to come out. So I’d suggest you convince your husband that having his mother stay here is in everyone’s best interests.”

With that, Loretta takes the wine bottle from her, pours a healthy glass of wine, and returns to the dining room with it. Natalie braces herself against the island as the extent of what she’s dealing with begins to sink in.

END OF EPISODE 1,001

Will Jake survive his fall? How will the family react?
Can Natalie keep Loretta from exposing her crimes?
Are Claire and Brent truly finished now?
Talk about it all in the comments below!