Previously…
– Travis and Rosie proposed to one another and got engaged.
– Molly continued to struggle through the pain of having lost her and Brent’s son shortly after birth.
– Sarah provided Tim and Claire with an address in Hawaii for Sonja Kahele.

The airplane’s wheels touch down on the runway at Lihue Airport with a heavy thunk. Claire Fisher instinctively grips the armrests of her seat until the plane settles on the ground, rushing into a final burst of wind as it brakes and then slows to a crawl. Passengers begin to unfasten their seatbelts and power up their cell phones.

“Awww. Look what Travis sent,” Claire says as she leans over to show her ex-husband, who has been seated in the aisle seat with an empty one between them, the photo that just came in on her phone.

Tim Fisher grins. “He sent me the same one.”

Quietly, they admire the photo of Gabrielle, the baby whom Travis and his now-fiancée, Rosie Jimenez, have been fostering. The infant has pulled herself onto all fours, as if ready to crawl, and is staring straight at the camera with a determined smirk.

“They seem to be getting very attached to her,” Claire says.

“Can you blame them?”

“Absolutely not. But I worry it’s going to be tougher than they think when Gabrielle gets placed in a permanent home.”

“Travis and Rosie knew what they were signing up for,” Tim says as the plane lurches up to its gate. “But who knows? Maybe they’ll decide to adopt her.”

“Maybe.” Claire smiles at the thought. “So much change for them, and so quickly. I still can’t believe we have a son who’s engaged.”

“We have a son who’s married,” Tim reminds her.

She crinkles her face at the reminder. “Can we just pretend that one doesn’t count?”

“Believe me, I’d like to. But it seems like Spencer and Natalie are content with whatever their situation is.”

“I don’t know how they could be, with Loretta under their roof.”

“That’s why we’re here.” 

The seatbelt light dings loudly overhead, and passengers immediately rise from their seats.

“Now let’s hope Sonja is able to tell us something we can use,” Tim says as he, too, stands, eager to get on with their mission. “This could finally be the key to getting Loretta out of our lives once and for all.”

Inside 322 Bar & Grill, “Save Your Tears” by The Weeknd plays over the sound system, though it is dulled by the heavy din of chit-chat and clanking silverware that comes with the first wave of the dinner rush. Travis Fisher and Rosie Jimenez sit on one side of a booth, across from Landon Esco, and Gabrielle’s high chair is positioned at the end of the table. The baby flails her arms excitedly as she clumsily reaches for various items from the table, all of which have been placed safely out of her reach.

“Let’s try this again,” Rosie says as she hands a stuffed toy in the shape of a donut to Gabrielle. “This would be a lot easier if you stopped throwing it on the floor, you know.”

“She’s totally gonna do it again,” Travis comments.

“Let her live,” Landon says. “Maybe it makes her happy to throw it on the floor.”

“It doesn’t make me happy to pick it up a hundred times,” Rosie counters.

“We all have our crosses to bear, Officer Jimenez.” Landon pops a French fry into his mouth. “How’s that gonna work? Are you going to change it to Officer Fisher?”

Rosie casts a sideways glance toward Travis as she says, “I think I’m going to keep my name.”

“That’s fine by me,” Travis says. “It’s your name.”

“Man. You guys are getting married! Do you have any idea how happy I am for you?!” Landon asks.

Travis laughs. “You’ve only said it about… as many times as Gabrielle has thrown her toy on the floor. But thanks, Landon. That means a lot.”

Landon drags another French fry through the ketchup on his plate. “So, have you started planning stuff? What are we talking? Ranch fountain? Ice sculptures? Live music? Food trucks?”

“Why was ranch fountain the first thing that came to mind?” Rosie asks with amusement.

“I dunno. It seems fancy.” Landon shrugs. “What are we thinking? How can I help?”

“We think we’re going to keep it pretty small,” Travis says. “We want to do it sooner rather than later, and I can think of plenty of things I’d rather spend money on than a huge wedding.”

“And I’m not really a lavish-wedding kinda girl,” Rosie adds.

Travis catches her eye, and some sort of silent communication passes between them.

“What?” Landon asks. “What’s going on?”

“But there is a reason we wanted to see you other than just sharing the big news,” Travis tells him. “We have a question for you.”

Landon’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What? Oh my god. Travis– Rosie–“

“You’re not getting proposed to,” Rosie says.

“It feels like it.” Landon drops the fry he’s holding onto his plate. “Come on, guys. What’s up?”

Travis rests his elbows on the edge of the table and leans forward. “Would you be my best man?”

“Yes!” Landon shouts, throwing his arms into the arm victoriously. His exclamation causes heads all around the restaurant to swivel toward them.

“Sorry,” he says, lifting his head above the booth to address no one and everyone all at once. “I just got asked to be my best friend’s best man. No biggie.”

He exhales loudly and settles back into the booth. “Except it’s totally a biggie. Travis, this is such an honor. I can’t wait. Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.”

“Points for enthusiasm,” Rosie says.

“I’m excited to have you standing up beside me,” Travis tells Landon, taking Rosie’s hand, “as I marry the woman of my dreams.”

“I’ll be there for whatever you need,” Landon says. “Your tie tied, a shot of Fireball to calm your nerves, help with the ranch fountain…”

With a loud squeal, Gabrielle once again flings her toy onto the ground.

Rosie groans and bends down to pick it up.

“I think that was her official verdict on the ranch fountain,” she says as she emerges and hands the donut back to Gabrielle.

—–

The rental car, a compact, black Nissan, winds its way over the highway that mirrors the island’s coastline on its journey from the airport to the city of Princeville, on the north side of the island of Kaua’i. As Tim drives, Claire watches out the passenger side window as the lush greenery and rocky hillsides pass by. Finally, they reach a more residential area, and Tim slows the car as the app on Claire’s iPhone dictates a series of turns.

“That’s it,” Claire says, pointing a finger through the windshield at a taupe-colored, one-story house nestled within a row of similar structures. Tim parks the car along the street and, after a weighty sigh, turns off the engine.

“Here goes nothing,” he says.

They step out of the vehicle, and the humid air surrounds them. They both take a moment to adjust to the jarring change from the air-conditioned car interior.

“How is everyone here not constantly a sweaty mess?” Tim asks as he rounds the front of the Nissan.

Claire looks him up and down and smirks. “Because they don’t wear pique polos and khakis.”

“I’ll buy something more tropical at the hotel gift shop. But right now…”

“Let’s do this,” she says, and with a mutual nod, they approach the house.

Tim eyes the large window in front as they walk up the stone path that cuts through the small front lawn, but the curtains are pulled closed enough that it is difficult to see inside. There is no car in the driveway, but the garage is closed, so it’s entirely possible that Sonja might have parked in there — or that her car might be one of the several on the street.

Claire steps up to the front door, but Tim lingers a few feet behind her.

“What if she isn’t even here?” he asks.

“Then we have no more info than we have now. Right? Nothing to lose.”

Without waiting for him to respond, she presses the doorbell. A faint chime can be heard from inside the house.

A split-second later, there is the unmistakable sound of footsteps, although they stop quickly.

“Someone’s home,” Claire says. Tim steps up to join her in front of the door, although he stands slightly to the side and out of view of the peephole that is set into the door. 

When nothing happens, Claire pushes the doorbell again. They hear it ring from within the house, and a muffled voice seems to respond to it.

“Sonja! Sonja, are you there?” Claire asks loudly, before she raps a fist against the door.

Tim feels his entire body tense as they wait. Then, suddenly, they hear locks being undone. The door is yanked open — though only a few inches — and gives the slightest creak as it moves. 

For the first time in over two years, he sees Sonja Kahele’s face in front of him.

—–

“Do you think Landon’s excited?” Travis asks as he holds open the door so that Rosie can push Gabrielle’s stroller out of 322.

“Excited?” Rosie laughs as she gets the stroller out onto the sidewalk. “I’m a little worried he thinks it’s his wedding day.”

“Nah. Besides, he’d look terrible in a fancy white dress.”

“Don’t tempt him,” Rosie says. They move down the sidewalk, basking in the fact that the sun has not yet set and the rain has decided to stay away for the time being. From within the stroller, Gabrielle lets out a happy gurgle.

“We’re gonna get you home and bathed and ready for bed,” Travis tells the baby, who kicks up her legs in response.

When he looks up, however, he is surprised to see someone approaching them. He sees her first and feels himself tensing, and just as he does so, she looks up and spots them, too. Travis stops in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?” Rosie asks, but she recognizes his reason for pausing before he can even answer.

“Hi, you guys,” Molly Taylor says from several yards away. With one hand raised to her side in an awkward wave, she quickens her pace to come nearer.

“Hey, Aunt Molly.” Travis does his best to seem casual, but he is acutely aware of how hard he is trying. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Molly pushes a strand of dark hair out of her face and tucks it behind her ear. Her gaze fixes upon the stroller. “Is that…?”

“Gabrielle. The baby we’re fostering. Yeah.” Travis stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Oh my gosh.” Molly touches a hand to her chest. “Can I…?” She gestures at the other side of the stroller.

“Yeah. Of course,” Rosie says, stepping slightly out of the way.

Molly starts to come around the stroller but then stops. She gasps and slaps a hand over her mouth.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot to congratulate you two!” she says. “Your dad told me the good news about your engagement.” She quickly pulls Travis into a hug and then, after a slightly awkward moment, does the same to Rosie.

“Thanks,” they say, nearly in unison.

Molly’s focus returns to the baby, who is staring up at her from the stroller.

“Oh, she’s precious,” Molly says softly. “Who could possibly leave a child like this…?”

Rosie sighs. “We haven’t been able to figure that out. But she’s safe now.”

“She looks very happy,” Molly agrees. “You two are doing such a wonderful thing, giving her a home.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Travis says. “It’s been a real crash course in parenting.”

Molly looks up toward them. “If you ever need any help… oh, what am I saying? You have your parents. I only meant…”

“We appreciate that,” Rosie says. “Really.”

After another lengthy moment of staring down at the baby, Molly straightens abruptly. 

“I should go,” she says. “Congratulations again. And Gabrielle– she’s just–” She shakes her head, seemingly overwhelmed by emotion, and hurries off.

“Is she okay?” Rosie asks as she again rests her hands on the stroller’s handles.

“That had to be a lot for her, considering…” Travis trails off, but he knows that Rosie understands exactly what he means. 

“Let’s get you home,” Rosie tells Gabrielle, and they resume moving down the sidewalk toward where they parked.

Up the street, Molly pauses and looks back at the happy trio walking to their car. She can’t help but think about her own child, the baby she and Brent lost at birth only months ago; a deep, painful ache fills her insides, and she grips her stomach, even as she knows that the pain is not purely physical, that no medicine can fix this. Feeling a flurry of tears threatening her eyes, she hurries back to her own car, desperate to put these thoughts out of her mind.

—–

Sonja peers out her front door and reacts with shock at the sight of Claire and Tim.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“We’re sorry for showing up unannounced,” Claire says, “but this is really important.”

Sonja’s dark eyes are wide with something that looks to Tim very much like panic. 

“How did you find me?” Sonja says. “I told you–“

“I’ve respected your choice to end things and leave King’s Bay,” Tim says, “even if I didn’t understand it. This has nothing to do with you and me.”

“But you’re here.”

“Because we need your help,” Claire interjects. 

Sonja remains wedged into the open sliver of doorway. “What? My help?” Then a grave shadow falls over her face. “Is it Spencer? Is he okay?”

“Spencer’s fine,” Tim says. “He’s actually doing really well.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sonja says. She turns back into the house; Tim tries to peer inside, but all he can see is a bench against the wall with a shoe-storage cube beneath it. 

“I’ll be right there, baby!” she calls into the depths of the house. Then, facing Tim and Claire again, she says, “I’m sorry. I really don’t have time–“

“It’s about Loretta Ragan,” Claire says. “She mentioned your name recently.”

Sonja seems to freeze in place, only her eyes shifting back and forth.

Tim does his best to keep his tone gentle. “Why would Loretta be mentioning you to Natalie Bishop?”

“What do you mean, mentioned me?” Sonja asks. 

“I heard Loretta say something to Natalie about calling her ‘old friend, Sonja’ if Natalie didn’t fall in line,” Claire explains. “What did she mean?”

“We know you care about Spencer,” Tim says, “and if you ever cared for me, please tell us: what was Loretta talking about? And what do you know that could help us put her back in jail?”

END OF EPISODE 1075

Will Sonja heed Tim and Claire’s pleas?
Is Molly dealing with her grief in a healthy way?
Will Travis and Rosie happily make it to the altar?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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