Written by MichaelOctober 5, 2020October 6, 2020

Episode 1039

Previously…
– Molly went into early labor. The baby was rushed out of the delivery room immediately after birth, and the doctor later informed Molly and Brent that their son had died.
– Jason felt betrayed after learning that Sabrina helped Helen run the paternity test on Peter. He was surprised to find a drinking buddy in Natalie, who happened to show up at The Wild Lady as he was drowning his sorrows.
– Spencer confronted Elly with the news that she’d had an affair with a married attorney at the firm where she had interned during law school.

Molly Taylor’s primal cries fill the hospital room. Her ex-husband clutches her as close as he possibly can, despite his own inability to catch his breath, as if physical contact will somehow dissolve the horrific news that they have just received.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Dr. Longo repeats as he stands near the door, hands folded in front of his blue scrubs.

Brent manages to give the man a nod in response, but Molly rocks back and forth in the bed, gasping for air.

“No!” she shouts. “Nooooo!”

The sight of her in such agony only makes Brent’s pain worse. His head spins as he tries to figure out how they could have gone through all this, only to have their son be born prematurely and not make it.

“I’m right here. I’m right here,” Brent whispers to her as he holds her, but the words sound as hollow as they feel to him.

—–

Two empty shot glasses and used wedges of lime sit on the bar of The Wild Lady, right in front of Jason Fisher and Natalie Bishop, who have now swiveled on their barstools to face one another. A song by Imagine Dragons plays throughout the bar, which is buzzing with the excitement of a night out.

“It’s getting late,” Jason says as he checks his iPhone. “I should get going.”

“So soon? If Sophie’s away at camp, you don’t have to race home,” Natalie counters.

“Be that as it may, I don’t do this–” He uses his index finger to indicate the shot glasses and the half-full beer sitting in front of him. “–too often. I’m wiped.”

“You know, you used to be more fun.”

“When?” he challenges with a raised eyebrow. “Before you sent me into a spiral of crippling depression by trying to pass off Peter as my son and then having the truth come out at our wedding?”

“Oh my god. I thought we were past that.”

“I don’t know if we’re really going to get past that,” he says. “But this has been nice. Surprisingly normal.”

“Yeah, it has.” Natalie finishes the last of her martini. “Thanks for talking. I mean it. This situation with Bree has been…”

He nods compassionately. “I get that you’re in a tough spot there.”

“I’m really glad she has you in her life.” Natalie scans for the bartender. “Should we close out?”

“I already did, when you went to the bathroom.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because I figured it would stop you from ordering more shots.”

“Okay, you got me there.” She picks up her purse from atop the bar and slides off the stool. “Did you drive?”

“I did, but I’m leaving my car in the lot out back. Jimmy told me it was okay.”

“I feel like I should do that, too. I’m a little…” She gestures broadly in the direction of the empty glasses.

“Leave it and call an Uber,” Jason says as he, too, hops off his seat.

Natalie pulls her phone from her purse, opens the Uber app, and then stops to look at Jason.

“What?” he asks.

“Why don’t you let me get an Uber, and I can drop you off on my way home?” she says.

“Natalie, you don’t–”

“It’s on my way, anyway. And you paid for all those drinks.”

“That was self-preservation.”

“Still.” She punches in the request for a ride and waits as it processes on her phone’s screen. “There. Three minutes away. Come on.”

Jason hesitates another moment before he shrugs. “Why not?”

They weave through a few clusters of patrons and push through the saloon doors as they exit the bar.

At the door that joins the kitchen to the main area of the bar, Jimmy Trask stands, a box of bar napkins in hand. He pauses as he watches the two exes, to whom he served tequila shots not that long ago, leave the bar together.

Inside Cassie’s Coffee House, Elly Vanderbilt stands with her arms folded, facing off with Spencer Ragan.

“I haven’t had any contact with Loretta in a while,” she says.

“That doesn’t mean she won’t call in a favor when she needs one,” Spencer replies. “So what do you say? Are you finally going to help me? Are you finally going to let me help you?”

A long, quiet beat passes between them. Spencer glances over at the deep, cushy armchair in which his toddler son is curled up with an iPad, a pair of Beats by Dre noise-cancelling headphones over his ears.

“What would you even do?” Elly finally asks.

Spencer fumbles to find his next words. “I– I don’t know, exactly. Not yet. I need you to work with me here.”

He watches intently as she swallows hard, a visible lump moving down her throat.

“That’s what she has on you?” he asks, lowering his voice. “That you had an affair with a partner at the law firm where you were interning?”

Elly averts her eyes, watching as a man carefully walks with two cups on top of saucers from the counter to a table.

“I know that’s probably embarrassing, Elly, but honestly, who gives a shit?” Spencer says. “If that’s all my mother has on you, let’s flip this thing around on her.”

“I can’t,” Elly says abruptly. She slings her purse’s strap over her shoulder. “I have to go.”

“Wait. We can work this out. Whatever went down between you and Anatoli–”

“I’m not talking about Anatoli with you. Or anything else.”

She storms off, and Spencer watches with frustration as she blows right out of the coffee shop. After a few more seconds, he slumps back down in the armchair next to Peter’s.

Peter removes the headphones from his ears and looks right at his dad.

“Who’s Anatoli?” he asks.

Spencer groans and takes the headphones from him. “Do these things even work?!”

—–

Brent’s head continues to spin as he waits in the too-bright corridor outside Molly’s hospital room. He takes out his phone to text his father and siblings in California, but then he stops. The mere thought of explaining the situation to more people — and then having to engage with them about it — is too draining for him even to face right now. He is still contemplating it when Dr. Longo steps out of the room and softly closes the door behind himself. Brent stuffs his phone back into his pants pocket.

“I sedated her,” the doctor explains. “She’s resting now.”

“Thank you,” Brent says. “She was so hysterical…”

“This has been a very traumatic experience. I’m so sorry things turned out this way, Mr. Taylor. You have my deepest sympathies.”

Brent nods politely. “Thanks. Can I– when can we see our son?”

Dr. Longo hesitates and touches a hand to his close-cropped, graying beard.

“We had to…” The doctor stops to take a deep breath. “We had to operate on the baby. As you can imagine, with an infant that small, things can be rather… delicate.”

Brent feels his stomach sinking. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know that seeing your son would make you or Mrs. Taylor feel much better at the moment. I’ll do everything I can to remedy that, of course. But I feel a warning is in order. In situations like this, I highly recommend cremation.”

“Cremation?” A tough knot swells in Brent’s unbelievably dry throat. “How are we even talking about this?”

“I know,” Dr. Longo says. “It’s an absolute tragedy. I am so very sorry for your loss. Please, go be with your family while Mrs. Taylor sleeps. I’ll be available for whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

Brent leans against the white wall as Dr. Longo moves off down the corridor. He knows that he has to go out to the waiting area and inform the family of what is going on — but doing that will make this nightmare even more real than it already is, and Brent doesn’t know how he can possibly put himself through that. He stands there, his back against the wall, desperate to find some way to change this even though he knows there is not one.

—–

“Shoes off,” Spencer tells Peter before the boy can go bounding into the depths of the house. Peter pauses and tries to use the toe of one speaker to pull the shoe off his other foot.

“Why don’t you sit down and do it?” Spencer says, gritting his teeth in order to restrain his frustration.

After another few seconds, during which Spencer does everything he can to stand by patiently, Peter sinks to the floor and undoes the Velcro straps on his sneakers.

“Mother?” Spencer calls out. The only response he receives is silence.

Peter kicks off his shoes.

“Go see if your grandmother is in her room, okay? And then get ready for your bath,” Spencer says, but the little boy is already scrambling up the stairs.

“Mimi, are you here?” Peter yells as he reaches the second floor.

“She must be out doing god-knows-what,” Spencer mutters to himself as he unties his own shoes. “At least maybe I’ll get some peace and quiet.”

—–

In the backseat of a Honda Accord, Jason watches through the window as the lights of downtown King’s Bay give way to the quieter, darker visuals of the tree-lined streets of the town’s more residential district. Up front, the driver carefully pilots the car while a Whitney Houston tune plays on the 80s-throwback radio station.

“Bree finally texted me back,” Natalie says as she sticks her phone back into her purse, which rests between them on the seat. “She said we can plan dinner for next weekend.”

“That’s good,” Jason says as he turns to face her. “She’s a teenager. Remember that. She’s going to want a lot of space. You were like that, too, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but my mother is insane and judgmental–” She stops herself and points her index finger at Jason. “Don’t you dare.”

Jason snickers. “Don’t I dare what?”

“Don’t you dare tell me I’m like my mother!”

He smirks at her and then says, “I can say this with complete honesty: you’re a lot nicer than your mother.”

“Look at that! You giving me a compliment,” Natalie responds with a smile of her own.

Jason looks over at her, watching as the shadows and lights from outside pass over her face. It has been a long time since he thought of her with anything but total animosity; he had nearly forgotten how fun she can be to be around, how many good times they did share before the worst of it all.

“Tonight wasn’t exactly what I expected, but I have to say, I’m glad you showed up at the bar,” he tells her. “At least I wasn’t angry and depressed while drinking myself into a stupor.”

“You don’t seem like you’re in a stupor,” Natalie says. “But I’m glad I could help. It’s the least I can do for you, after everything.”

Their eyes meet as the driver makes a left-hand turn.

“It’s been a fun night,” Natalie continues, and then her hand finds its way to Jason’s knee.

He flinches at first, but he doesn’t pull away.

“It has,” he says, and the next thing he knows, Natalie is leaning in toward him, and their lips are meeting. They kiss as the car continues rolling along, the almost-forgotten but so-familiar scent and taste of her mouth filling Jason’s senses.

END OF EPISODE 1039

Is Jason making a mistake turning to Natalie?
Can Molly and Brent move forward from this loss?
Should Elly have heard Spencer out further?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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