Previously…
– Claire was devastated when Molly admitted that she is pregnant with Brent’s child.
– Spencer became suspicious that Loretta had somehow manipulated Elly into hiring the P.I. and setting up Jason to lose the custody suit.
– Matt and Marcus were both found to be eligible to be Jake’s kidney donor.

When Spencer Ragan pushes through the saloon doors at the entrance of The Wild Lady, he is immediately hit by the sounds of Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places.” In spite of the anthemic music, though, the bar is relatively sedate — which makes sense, given the daytime hour. A few tables are occupied by patrons having beers with nachos or chili, and the mechanical bull is at rest toward the back of the open main room. Spencer approaches the bar, which Kathleen Bundy is wiping down with a rag.

“Hey,” Spencer says in the friendliest, most casual tone he can muster.

When Kathleen looks up, however, her face hardens at the sight of him.

“Hi, Spencer,” she says sternly. “What can I get you?”

He reminds himself to stay as pleasant as possible with Travis’s biological mother. Now is not the time to lecture her about how their screwed-up family situation affected him, too. 

“I’m actually hoping to talk with Elly for a minute,” Spencer says. “Is she in the back? I’ll take an IPA, too.”

With a polite nod, Kathleen grabs a clean glass. “I’ll tell her you’re here.” She fills the glass from the tap, achieving a perfect pour that impresses Spencer, and then slides it toward him.

He takes a sip of the hoppy, citrusy beer and waits as Kathleen disappears into the back. The song switches to a Shania Twain tune before Elly Vanderbilt emerges and spots him sitting at the bar.

“What’s up?” she asks, a little cautiously, as she approaches.

“I was taking care of some errands and thought I’d stop in and talk with you.”

“About what? TV? I’m finally watching Fleabag since everyone was talking about it–” 

The sound of his beer being set down on the bar top interrupts her. “I’m assuming your uncle gave you a heads-up.”

She squints, as if racking her brain, and then says, “That your crazy mother is on the loose and in King’s Bay? He did.”

“She’s staying at my house,” Spencer says. “Our house.”

“Do I even want to ask how that wound up happening?”

“It’s a mystery to me, too. Natalie thought it would be safer to have her where we can keep an eye on her — and keep her from feeling like she can’t see Peter.”

“That’s a twisted bit of logic, but as long as you guys are happy…”

“We’re fine.” He wraps both hands around his pint glass. “She hasn’t tried to contact you?”

He detects the momentary hitch in Elly’s eyes and lips before she actually responds.

“No. Why would she?”

“Because of whatever went down with the P.I. and the custody case,” Spencer says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Elly’s expression grows stonier. “I already told you: nothing ‘went down.’ I hired the P.I. because I have a law degree and common sense. It worked out in our favor. You and Natalie have custody of your son. The end.”

“I’m serious, Elly. When I went to ask my– when I went to ask Loretta about those photos of Jason and Alex, she immediately assumed that you’d told me something. So excuse me if I want to know what that something is.” 

She glowers at him over the bar.

“If she did something to force you to take credit for hiring that P.I.,” he continues, “or if she did something to set up Jason and Alex, it could be the key to getting her out of my house and away from my son. So I’m going to ask you one more time: what does Loretta have on you?”

Sarah Fisher Gray touches a hand to her already-creased forehead. “Are you sure?”

Across the copper-topped table, her husband sits in his chef’s whites, toying with a pale blue packet of artificial sweetener. Bill’s on the Pier is fairly empty at the moment, allowing Matt and Sarah some time for a conversation.

“I don’t have another choice,” Matt says. Rather than sounding resigned, though, he sounds determined. “Jake’s my brother. I’ve gotta help him.”

“Donating a kidney isn’t some minor procedure,” Sarah replies. “This is a serious surgery, Matt. There could be complications–”

“I know. I’ve been reading up.”

“Marcus is a match, too. And he wants to donate to his father. He’s young.”

“He’s just getting back to normal from the car accident,” Matt says. “A car accident plenty of people blame me for. I’m not letting the kid go through that if he doesn’t have to.”

Sarah is quiet as she gazes down into her blurry reflection in the table.

“Think about how Mia has to feel,” he adds. “If it was Tori who wanted to donate–”

“I’d do anything I could to stop her from going through that,” Sarah says as she looks up sharply. “But that’s how I feel about you, too.”

“But you’re not a match for my brother, are you?”

She shakes her head as she continues to process the situation.

“Jake’s my brother, and I’ve put him through hell,” Matt says.

“You didn’t knock him out that window.”

“No, but I’m the reason Marcus and Tori were in that car that night — and this goes all the way back to Nicole. If there’s something I can do to make sure he pulls through… I have to do it.”

Sarah reaches over the table and takes the sweetener packet from him. She places it down and then grasps both of his hands in hers.

“You’re a good man, Matt Gray,” she says. “The best man I know.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“You are. And if you feel this is what you have to do, then I’ll be right by your side. Okay?”

He bobs his head up and down gratefully. “That makes me the lucky one.” He squeezes his wife’s hands, hoping to reassure her that somehow, someway, this will all turn out all right — even as the quivering sensation in his stomach reminds him that that is far from guaranteed.

—–

Across the dining room, Samantha Fisher shares a table with her grandmother as they have a late lunch.

“It’s always so strange to go back to Sun Valley without your grandfather,” Claudia Bishop comments between bites of her Nicoise salad. “I know it’s already been a year since he passed, but it’s somehow always a shock when I remember.”

“I’m sure,” Samantha says sympathetically. She shuffles her fork around the Cobb salad sitting before her before spearing a chunk of Bleu cheese.

“You should watch out for all that cheese. They put far too much in there,” Claudia says. She doesn’t give her granddaughter a chance to respond before continuing, “But I suppose it’ll be nice to be back to my usual routine. If I have to spend another minute around that unhinged woman who’s staying at your aunt’s house…”

“I keep hoping Loretta will just… go away.”

“If there’s one thing that woman is not going to do, it’s go quietly into the night.”  

Samantha groans as she picks up another bite of her salad — this time, careful to avoid the cheese and, by association, another of Claudia’s unsolicited commentaries.

“But it’s wonderful to spend some time with you,” Claudia says as a smile brightens her face. She wears a high-necked, emerald-green blouse with a simple, elegant gold necklace reaching down to her sternum. “I’m happy to hear that you’re doing so well at work. And Jaq — she seems nice.”

“They,” Samantha corrects, although she is sure it will go over her grandmother’s head the same way it has every other time she has indicated Jaq’s preferred pronouns. “Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you about before you leave town.”

Claudia rests her fork against her plate. “What’s that?”

“That’s what I’m hoping you can tell me.” Samantha reaches into the pocket of her zip-up sweater and pulls out the heart-shaped silver locket. Its scuffs and scratches make it clear that it has been around for a long time. “Was this Grandpa’s?”

There is no mistaking the way that the color drains from Claudia’s face, causing the pink of her heavily applied blush to stand out even more.

“Where did that come from?” she finally asks.

“It was in that box of Grandpa’s things you let me take from the house. The one that had his class rings and cufflinks and stuff.”

Claudia’s eyelashes flutter rapidly as she says, “I don’t know what that is. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” The older woman reaches for her glass and takes a gulp of water. “It must be some cheap thing that your mother or Natalie had from years ago.”

“Then why would Grandpa have kept it in that box?” Samantha asks, careful to add an extra dash of innocence to the inquiry.

“I couldn’t begin to tell you. I’m sure it was tossed in there carelessly and forgotten about.” Claudia regards the locket, held in Samantha’s open palm, for another long moment. “Yes, that must be it. It’s trash, dear.”

“If you say so,” Samantha says with a shrug, returning the locket to her sweater.

“Now,” Claudia says, checking her watch, “how long do you think it will take us to get to the airport? We really should get the check, shouldn’t we?”

—–

Claire Fisher stands over her dining room table, making minuscule adjustments to the bouquet of wildflowers that she picked up at the farmers’ market earlier today. Just when she thinks she has the arrangement aligned perfectly, she notices her cell phone lighting up on the tabletop. Reflexively, she glances at the screen — and immediately grimaces.

“Who just texted you? Trump?” Tempest Banks asks from her position on the couch, where she is reviewing a textbook for her evening business class at King’s Bay University.

“What?” Claire responds, startled.

“You were all up in those flowers, and then your phone buzzed and you looked like you saw a damn ghost. So if it isn’t that asshole, it must be…”

“Brent. Yeah.” Claire lets out a heavy sigh.

“You still haven’t talked to him at all?”

“Not aside from a few text messages, no. What would be the point?”

Tempest closes the textbook, plops it onto the couch, and stands. “If you don’t wanna talk to him, we could at least swipe his credit card and go on some kinda shopping spree.”

That at least gets Claire to crack a smile. “He’s a police officer with two kids in private school, not… well, Trump.”

“Just sayin’…”

“I don’t even know what the point of talking with him would be,” Claire says. “He cheated on me. He slept with Molly and got her pregnant. On the list of dealbreakers, that’s pretty high.”

“You’re not wrong.” Tempest rounds the couch to join Claire by the dining table. “But you’re kinda keeping yourself in this limbo if you don’t deal with it one way or the other, don’t you think?”

“There’s nothing to deal with.”

“First off, he still needs to be smacked upside the head a couple of times, which I’ll take care of if you don’t wanna. But if this really is the end–”

“It is,” Claire says through gritted teeth. “What Brent did is unforgivable.”

Tempest nods, seeing the older woman’s raw emotion pressing its way to the surface.

Claire shakes her head in wounded disbelief. “I was ready to accept his proposal. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with him. I really never thought I’d get to the point of getting married again, and — well, I guess I didn’t.”

“Don’t you wanna tell Brent how you feel? How he made you feel?” 

“I don’t know what the point would be. I already yelled at him.”

“Yeah, but you’re not over it. You’ve been taking more shifts at the hospital than I’ve ever seen you take.”

“I like working.”

“No one likes working that much. You’re trying to keep yourself busy. And I get that. But maybe you need to put this thing to bed before you can really move on.”

A loaded silence hangs in the air.

“What if he talks me back into it?” Claire asks suddenly.

Tempest screws up her face. “What do you mean?”

“I still love him. Not what he did, or where we are now, but it’s impossible to shut off your feelings for someone in an instant.”

“Don’t I know that,” Tempest says quietly, as she raises an eyebrow.

“I think I’m afraid that if I put myself face-to-face with Brent, all I’ll remember is how much I’ve loved him, and I’ll miss him, and then… What if he convinces me to take him back?”

“Do you want to take him back?”

“No. Yes? I don’t know. I don’t want to be with him after what he did. I don’t think I could ever trust his feelings for me again.”

“Damn.” Tempest picks up Claire’s phone off the table and forces it into her hand. “It’s time you text that man and set up a time to talk. ‘Cause until you do…”

“I won’t have any closure,” Claire says.

“And I’m gonna have to watch you messing around with those flowers,” Tempest says with a grin. “Do it for me, okay?”

Heartened, Claire puts on a brave face and unlocks her phone. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

—–

Elly glances both ways before she uses her elbows to lean on the bar.

“You need to drop this conspiracy theory,” she tells Spencer.

“Why? Because there’s something you don’t want me to know?” He levels a serious stare upon her and is surprised when she takes the challenge, meeting his eye contact unwaveringly.

“If there were something to know, it would be my business, not yours.”

“I’m trying to help you, Elly. Loretta Ragan is a dangerous woman.”

“I don’t need your help!” she blurts out, her voice jumping several notches in volume. “What I need is for you to leave me the hell alone.”

Spencer sits up straighter on the barstool and takes a long, pensive sip of his beer.

“What about Jason and Alex?” he asks. “You’re okay with the fact that someone drugged them?”

“Jason and Alex are nice guys. I don’t wish them any ill will. But I didn’t drug them, or whatever allegedly happened.”

“I didn’t say you did. But if you know something…”

“I don’t!” She smacks a hand down on the bar, and this time, the outburst draws the attention of a man at a high-top table a few feet away. “Drop it, Spencer. Okay?”

“So there is something to drop.” 

She lets out a frustrated grunt. “I’m going to go get Kathleen to close you out.”

“You could at least be grateful that someone’s looking out for you,” he snarls.

“Oh, please. What do you want? Me to drop to my knees in gratitude because you decided to play white knight for ten minutes?”

“Don’t be melodramatic.”

“I’m not the one cooking up crazy theories about blackmail and drugging and whatever the hell else you’re rambling out,” Elly says.

“Fine. Have it your way.” He takes another slug of the beer, sets it down, and pulls out his wallet. “But don’t come crying to me when this whole thing blows up in your face.”

“I’ll make a mental note of that.”

He slaps a ten dollar bill down on the bar. “Good luck.”

“You, too. At least I’m not living with a psychotic felon,” Elly says, folding her arms to watch him stomp out of the bar.

—–

After they pay their bill, Claudia and Samantha move toward the restaurant’s exit. Samantha leans against a wall, waiting as her grandmother uses the ladies’ room. She is standing there when she hears one of her aunts’ voices.

“Sam. Hey,” Sarah says as she hurries over. “Where’s your grandma?”

“In the bathroom. Then I’m taking her to the airport.”

“Gotcha.” Sarah’s eyes dart around for a moment, as if checking whether the coast is clear. “I couldn’t help but notice the locket you were showing her.”

Samantha’s pulse quickens. “What do you mean?”

“Your mom told me all about how you brought that locket back from your grandpa’s and it matched the one she got from Therese DeLuca’s sister.” Sarah pauses as she watches Samantha attempting to conceal her shock. “She did tell you that she hired me to look into Therese, didn’t she?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Samantha exhales with relief. “I didn’t know she’d told you the rest.”

“She’s been keeping me updated. So…” Again Sarah checks to be sure that Claudia hasn’t returned from the restroom. “What did she say when you showed it to her?”

“Nothing. Which tells me everything I need to know.”

“How so?”

“She went completely pale the second she saw it,” Samantha explains, again swiveling her head to be certain they are alone. “She definitely recognized it.”

“Which means Therese’s sister was telling the truth: that your grandma knows about Therese’s connection to your family.”

“Right. Now the part we have to figure out is…”

“Why is it a secret in the first place?” Sarah finishes for her. “And what was your great-grandfather paying Therese DeLuca to keep quiet about?”

Samantha nods gravely as she once again touches the locket that is stashed safely in her sweater pocket.

END OF EPISODE 1007

Should Spencer heed Elly’s advice and butt out?
What do you think of Matt’s decision to donate a kidney to Jake?
Did Tempest give Claire good advice about Brent?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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