Previously…
– Isaac informed Tempest that he had taken a job at King’s Bay Memorial and would be settling in town.
– Molly opted not to fire Tori for her error at Objection but told her that Zane should no longer visit the office.
– Spencer learned Elly had come to the house to see him and had been intercepted by Natalie, who made it clear she and Spencer were in the midst of a tryst.

Although the day’s light rainfall has ceased, at least for the time being, a gray gloom hangs in the air, and the dampness has stained the knotted wooden planks of Pier 22 a darker color than usual. Spencer Ragan taps the toe of his Italian leather dress shoe against the pier as he waits, his coat zipped and his arms folded.

Finally he sees her, in a black trench coat, her red hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. Elly Vanderbilt slows down ever-so-slightly when she catches sight of him, but then she resumes her prior confident, almost defiant pace until she meets him outside the entrance of Bill’s on the Pier.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he says.

“Is Peter okay? What’s going on?” Elly asks.

“He’s fine. Yeah.”

“Then why am I here? You said I had to meet you because of Peter.”

Spencer’s arms drop to his sides as he shrugs. “I had a feeling that was the only thing I could say that would actually get you to meet me.”

A growl of irritation tears out of Elly’s throat. “Are you kidding?”

“I need to talk to you, Elly.”

“This is the ultimate ‘this meeting could have been an e-mail,'” she says. “Or a text. Or, even better, you could’ve left me alone entirely.”

She spins back around, but Spencer calls out.

“Elly. Wait. It’s important.”

Her back still to him, she says, “I sincerely doubt that, but why don’t you spit it out so we can get this over with?”

Despite having rehearsed version after version of this on his way over, Spencer now finds himself tongue-tied, all the different iterations of his explanation winding and weaving together until they are an indistinguishable ball of tangles in his head and in his mouth.

“It’s about– I need to clear something up,” he says, loathing how not-confident he sounds. “About Natalie and me. Our marriage–“

“Is none of my business.”

“It is your business. We wouldn’t even be married if not for you. You saved my ass — and my chances of actually raising Peter — with that idea. But I need to make it very clear that that’s all it is: an arrangement. We’re not, you know, actually married.”

He watches her back rise and fall with a long, slow breath. Finally she turns back toward him.

“And why did you have to summon me here to tell me that?” she says. “It’s your marriage. Do whatever you want.”

“I know you came to the house that night and got– I know you got the wrong impression.”

Her eyes widen with understanding. “Samantha told you.”

“Don’t be pissed at her. She was checking in out of concern. You know how she is.”

“A decent person?”

“Yeah. Foreign concept,” he says with a smirk.

Elly tosses her hair and places her hands on her hips. “So you dragged me down here to tell me that you and your wife haven’t had sex?”

“I mean… we have a son. But…”

“Since you got married.”

“We aren’t anymore,” Spencer says, stumbling over the explanation. “It was never really a thing. That night you came to the house — that wasn’t a regular thing.”

“Are you sure about that?” Elly asks.

“Why do you care?”

“Why do you care if I care?”

“Because–” And then, unable to find any of the proper words, he juts forward, takes her face in his hands, and presses his lips to hers.

—–

Diane Bishop braces as she approaches the front doors of the office building. From inside the lobby, she peers out the glass panels and is relieved to see that it is no longer raining. As soon as she exits to the somber, cloudy outdoors, however, she hears her name being called and stops in her tracks.

“Diane. Wait up,” the voice says, and she knows exactly to whom it belongs even before she turns.

“You’re actually stalking me now,” she tells Isaac Banks as he jogs to catch up with her.

“I need to talk to you,” Isaac says.

For a prolonged moment, Diane has no idea how to respond to him. This handsome, interesting, successful man has now come all the way to King’s Bay — twice — because he wants to spend time with her. And yet she knows that it has to be a non-starter. 

“No one’s stopping you from talking,” she says as she starts toward the parking structure. “But I can’t imagine what we have left to say.”

Isaac falls into step alongside her. “Looks like I’m gonna be in King’s Bay long-term.”

“What does that mean?”

“I took a job at the hospital. And I found an apartment.”

“So I’m going to have to deal with more of these visits?” she asks as they step under the concrete cover of the parking structure. Diane uses her index finger to press the button for the elevator.

“I know this is complicated,” Isaac says. 

“That’s the thing. This–” She uses both hands to gesture between the two of them. “–makes ‘complicated’ look like a walk on the beach.”

He begins to respond but pauses when the elevator doors open and two women, chatting at an aggressive volume, step off and walk right between them. Diane gets into the elevator, and Isaac follows.

“I don’t know what walks on the beach you’ve been taking,” he says, “but it’s not that simple. You’ve got sand everywhere, the ground’s uneven, you’re trying not to step on broken shells and glass.”

Diane purses her lips as she considers her response. She hates the fact that he can so easily keep up with her, that he’s so nonplussed by her offhanded rejections.

The elevator rises through the parking structure with a loud hum.

“Does Tempest know you’re staying?” she asks.

He nods. “She’s the main reason I took the job. And our little brother. I haven’t even gotten to meet him yet — if his dads will even let me–“

“They will. They want Tempest to be part of Chase’s life. I don’t see why it would be any different with you.”

“Really? You think so?”

“I’m sure of it.” The elevator doors part, and Diane walks right out. Isaac again follows, right by her side.

“I know Tempest dated your daughter,” he continues. “If that’s why you’ve been shutting me down–“

“It’s more than that.” She uses her key fob to unlock the small Volvo SUV, and its declarative beep echoes through the garage. “I promise I’m not doing this to be a bitch, Isaac. It’s just too complicated.”

She opens the driver’s door and gets into the car.

“Can we just talk for a few minutes?” he asks. “Help me understand.”

Diane stares at him, genuinely uncertain how to answer. On one hand, she wants to tell him that she is as attracted to him as she was that first night on the cruise ship; he looks every bit as sexy right now, shivering slightly in his leather jacket, as he did the first time she laid eyes on him. But she knows there is no point to sharing that, because this cannot go anywhere. In the context of the real world — of her real life — it just can’t.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he says as he hurries around the vehicle and opens the passenger door. He is sliding into the leather seat before Diane can protest.

“Now explain to me why you won’t even consider giving this a shot,” Isaac says.

Against her better judgment, Diane pulls her own door closed.

—–

“I felt awful about the whole thing. I still do,” Molly Taylor says as she sprinkles some Splenda into the steaming mug of coffee that sits before her.

“It sounds like you were very fair with Tori,” Paula Fisher comments from across the table. The two women are seated in Paula’s kitchen — the same familiar, comforting kitchen in which Molly spent so much of her youth, a place that has continued to be such a touchstone throughout her adult life. The dome-shaped light fixture above the table glows brightly, its bulbs doing what they can to offset the colorless day outside.

Molly reaches for a spoon and stirs the sweetener into her coffee. “I hope so. She seemed terrified that I was going to fire her, but I never would’ve done that. Especially not after the way I threw her into the deep end and expected her to figure out how to swim.”

“Everyone makes errors, especially when they’re learning.”

“I know. I made plenty of them. And Camille was fair but firm with me. I just… I can’t help but feel guilty. Like I let Tori down.”

“How would you have let her down?” Paula asks, leaning forward. “You gave her a job and a second chance.”

Molly picks up the mug and blows on the hot coffee. A contemplative look washes over her as she takes a careful sip.

“I’ve been distracted,” she says at last. “I know that. Maybe I put too much on her plate, or I’ve been working myself so hard trying to stay on-track that I overwhelmed her.”

“Honey. I think it’s very clear that Zane was the major distraction.”

“He was. And is. But I know I’ve been out of it, too.” Molly lets out a heavy sigh. “Mom, I can’t stop thinking about the baby.”

“I can only imagine.” Paula reaches across the table and places her own hand over her daughter’s. “You’ve been through something so traumatic. You’re grieving. It’s only natural.”

“It feels so endless,” Molly says sadly. “I keep having these dreams– nightmares, really.”

“About the baby?”

“Sometimes I’m in the  hospital, giving birth again, and no one will tell me what’s wrong even though I can tell. Sometimes I’m in this house, this enormous house, and I can hear him crying but I can’t find him. There are a thousand rooms, and no matter where I look, no matter how loud the crying gets, I can never find him.”

“Oh, honey. Do you think it might help to take a leave of absence from work? Give yourself time to focus on healing–“

“No. Absolutely not. I’m responsible for too much, and…” Molly trails off, her head shaking as if to underline the sentiment. “I’m seeing my therapist twice a week now, which is good.”

“That is good. I’m glad.” Paula slowly draws back her hand as she thinks about her next statement. “And how about Brent?”

“What about him? I don’t know if he’s in therapy–“

“The two of you, I mean. You’re the only two who really, truly shared that experience. That baby — he was your child. I hope you two have been there for one another.”

“It’s too painful.”

“To open up about something painful with someone you love? With someone who loves you?”

Again Molly shakes her head. “I don’t know. It feels like there’s this– this gulf between us, somehow. We can communicate enough to deal with the kids, but everything is so heavy. I don’t want to make things more difficult for him.”

“You share children. You’re partners in that,” Paula says. “And it looked as though you were on the road to becoming partners in life again, too.”

“I don’t know what to think, Mom.”

“You should talk to Brent. Be there for him. Let him be there for you,” Paula says. “You’ve both suffered such a grave loss. Don’t let yourselves lose anything else if you can avoid it.”

Molly encircles her mug with both palms, feeling the comfort of the warmth seeping into her hands but uncertain of what she can say or do.

—–

Time slows down as Spencer feels his lips melting against Elly’s. The initial stiffness he encounters turns into something different, something softer, as her lips relax, her mouth opening to his–

And then it speeds up again as he feels Elly’s palms on his chest, pushing him away. He steps backward.

“What the hell was that?” Elly says.

“That was a test. And you didn’t not kiss me back.”

“You’re a decent kisser. And I’m pretty hard-up these days.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks suggestively.

“Which is to say, the bar is really low. So it took me a minute to come to my senses.”

“Then come on.” He reaches for her hand. “If you’re feeling this, and I am, too…”

She pulls away. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You just admitted–“

“And you’re married, with a kid.”

“We just went over this,” he says. “I’m not, really.”

But she shakes her head. “I don’t do married men, Spencer.”

His next words fly out before he has a chance to stop them: “That wasn’t a problem with that law partner, Anatoli.”

He sees Elly’s eyes flare in shock. He begins to spit out an apology, but before he can produce one, her hand cracks across his cheek. 

“How dare you,” she says. Whatever openness he might have seen in her moments ago is gone, a steel gate dropped in its place.

“I didn’t mean–“

“Yes, you did. But thanks for making it so easy to turn you down, Spencer.”

“Elly. Hang on.”

She scurries away, the light wind fluttering through her hair as she retreats. Spencer lifts a hand to his stinging cheek and lets out a heavy sigh. When Elly disappears from view, he turns toward the dreary water, gazing out over the bay as it sits beneath a foreboding blanket of clouds. 

—–

“Tempest told me what happened,” Isaac says.

The silence, the stillness, inside the Volvo suddenly feels unbearable to Diane. She stares straight ahead through the windshield, at the scuffed concrete wall.

“About what?” she asks, already wincing.

“Hank. She said you tracked him down and brought him here so he could sign over parental rights to those guys.”

“I did.” Diane allows herself to begin breathing again, however hesitantly. “Tempest was fighting to adopt Chase herself, and I knew if she did, Samantha was going to give up her education and her career plans to do it with her. I couldn’t let them do that — either of them.”

“Okay.” Isaac nods along as he processes this. “And you didn’t know–“

“What Hank put Tempest through? God, no. If I had — Isaac, I wouldn’t have ever made her face that man if I’d had any idea. I am sorry for putting her in that situation.”

“Is that why they broke up? Tempest and Samantha?”

“It’s a long story,” she says curtly, as another stab of agony cuts through her chest. 

“I want to understand,” he says.

“There’s nothing else to understand. Your sister and I have — we have a sordid history.”

Isaac sits quietly in the passenger seat. Diane recognizes what he is doing and hates him for it.

“You’re not going to get me to say more by sitting there in silence,” she tells him.

“What?”

“I know that trick. I am the master of that trick.”

“Okay. I didn’t come here to force you into anything, Diane.” He reaches for the door handle and pulls it, popping the door open again. “But I couldn’t let this go without making it clear that I’m interested in you. There’s something about you that I can’t stop thinking about. You fascinate me. Maybe it’s the way you take no shit from anyone. Or the fact that you’re damn sexy.” He bites his lower lip. “Or how you gave me a fake name without even hesitating… Ann Marie.”

“You were neck-and-neck with me on that one, Ben.”

He grins at her across the car. But his expression settles quickly into something more solemn. “If you don’t feel the same way, then cool. But I had to take my shot.”

She watches him swing his legs around and start to slide out of the vehicle. The sight fills her with some fiery impulse, some sudden need, and her hand reaches out and grasps his sleeve. She pulls him back toward her, overcome by a sudden need to block out the world and its complications. 

Surprise overtakes Isaac’s expression, but he quickly pulls the door closed and stretches over the armrest to meet her waiting kiss. She feels his weight moving on top of her, as their tangled limbs negotiate the cramped space, her hand fumbling to find the button to recline her seat as their hands tear at each other’s clothes and their bodies begin to move together as one.

END OF EPISODE 1064

Will Diane regret letting her lust get the best of her?
Was Elly justified in slapping Spencer for what he said?
Can Molly and Brent find joy in the aftermath of tragedy?
Talk about all this and more in the comments below!

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