Previously…
– Molly and Brent moved forward with suing Travis and Rosie for custody of Gabrielle.
– Travis was shocked when he was served with the custody suit papers at work.
– After a frantic Sonja told him that TJ has strep throat, Tim — not wanting to risk bringing the child to a hospital — placed a call for help.

Sonja Kahele‘s stocking feet tread a repetitive path over the nondescript beige carpet of the apartment’s living room: back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The anxiety emanating from her body intensifies with each pass that she makes.

“It should be here soon,” Tim Fisher observes from his perch on the arm of the sofa, where he has been gazing out the window through the partially opened blinds.

She stops pacing and turns toward him. “I can’t see my little boy suffering any more, Tim. He’s been miserable since last night. And if I’d been able to take him to the doctor–“

“He’ll have medication by the time he wakes up from his nap. It’s strep throat. It’ll be cleared up by tomorrow morning.”

“I hope so,” she says with outsized frustration for this particular situation. “It could’ve been something much worse, Tim.”

“I know that–“

“Do you? Untreated strep can cause a lot of complications. And if it were something else entirely…”

“Sonja,” he says, rising to his feet. “TJ is going to be okay.”

She grits her teeth and stares back at him, her jaw quivering ever so slightly. “I hate this,” she finally says. “I hate being trapped here. I hate that I’m helpless to do anything for my son.”

“You’re getting him the medical care he needs.”

“By sitting around. What if it were more of an emergency?”

“Then we would’ve addressed it like one,” he says in an intentionally placid tone.

“You say that now.” She lets out a sigh. “Something has to change, Tim.”

“I’m asking you to bear with us for a little while longer. Staying here is for your — and TJ’s — safety. I come visit as often as I can–“

“Maybe there’s a better solution.” She places one palm on his chest. The touch comes as a surprise to Tim; it has been several years since the two of them shared such intimate contact. “Maybe the three of us could all be together, the way we should’ve been all along.”

Tim’s eyes widen. “Sonja…”

“I mean it,” she continues, and her forefinger, with its neatly filed nail coated in clear polish, traces a line down the center of his chest. “If Loretta hadn’t frightened me into leaving town, I would’ve told you I was pregnant, and then — who knows where we’d be now?”

He swallows hard as he feels the intensity radiating off her body.

“We would be safe at your house,” Sonja says, “and it would give you and me the chance to pick up where we left off.”

“I…”

Before he can form any more words, however, Sonja stretches up on her tiptoes and touches her lips to his. Her scent, sweet and formal, comes rushing back to him, almost as if no time has passed at all.

—–

Claire Fisher watches the pink light illuminate the floor numbers one by one as the elevator climbs through the building. Her body hums with a sense of urgency, even as she clutches the white paper bag with the prescription bottle inside it. She knows that her discomfort stems not only from concern for TJ’s health, but from having had to ask a doctor to write a prescription for the antibiotics without seeing the patient. Luckily, she has built up enough trust in her years on staff at Memorial that she was able to trade on that, and she wasn’t requesting anything controversial like painkillers — but skirting the rules still made her a bit uneasy.

Nevertheless, she understands that TJ’s well-being is the priority right now, and describing the circumstances as extenuating would be an understatement. She would be hard-pressed not to go out of her way to help any patient — especially a child — and Tim’s child in particular.

The elevator lurches to a stop at the designated floor. She waits for the doors to open, which they do with a slight creaking noise, and then steps out into the hallway. It takes her a moment to orient herself before she recognizes where to go, and she heads to her left.

The plainclothes officer stationed outside the apartment greets her with a terse nod.

“I’m Claire,” she says, holding up the paper bag. “I have a prescription–“

“Mr. Fisher let me know you’d be coming,” the officer responds, and Claire is certain from the way he looks at her that he has already been provided a photo of her to expedite the process. “The door’s unlocked.”

“Great. Thank you.”

She presses down on the silver door handle and softly opens the door a crack, not wanting to disturb the scene inside; she recalls all too well it can be to get a small child, let alone a sick one, to remain calm. But the sight that greets her when she enters is not at all what she expected.

She sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of Tim and Sonja, their bodies pressed together as they kiss.

—–

Cell phone in hand, Travis Fisher exits the restaurant where he works and walks up Pier 22 toward the parking lot. But before he even reaches his car, where he intended to place this call, he is dialing his wife’s number. He has just made it to where the pier meets the land when Rosie answers.

“Hey,” she says wearily, and he immediately understands the reason for her tone.

“You got them, too?” he asks.

“Some guy just rang my mom‘s doorbell, like, ten minutes ago. They came to your work?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell? Did your aunt and uncle plan some kind of tactical strike?”

“Seems like it,” Travis says. By now, he has stopped near the tail end of his car, and though he has to cross his arms against the winter cold, he makes no move to get inside the vehicle. “Maybe they had to do it this way. I don’t know.”

“That’s bull,” Rosie says forcefully. “They didn’t have to do anything. They never even tried to have a real conversation with us about how to work this out.”

“No, they didn’t.”

Silence falls over both of them for a moment. Travis kicks a pebble with the tip of his black work sneaker, and it goes skittering over the pavement.

“I can’t believe Commander Taylor would play it like this,” Rosie says. “He’s been, like, a mentor to me. I thought we were friends. And Molly’s your aunt.”

“I know.” He lets out a frustrated huff. “I guess they realize we aren’t gonna roll over and hand Gabrielle back to them.”

“No, we’re not,” she replies with determination. “No way. Especially not now, not after how they’ve handled this.”

“I only skimmed the papers, but it says we have 30 days to respond to the suit–“

“I’m not waiting on this for 30 days,” Rosie says. “Let’s find a lawyer we trust and get this going. The sooner we get this in front of a judge, the sooner we can put an end to this, once and for all.”

—–

Claire freezes at the open door of Sonja and TJ’s apartment, watching as Tim and Sonja kiss by the window. With her hand still on the handle, she is about to back out and act like she was never here. But she knows that the officer standing guard is mere feet away, and the priority is getting this medication to TJ.

With her mind spinning like a turbine, she backs out into the hallway but does not pull the door fully closed.

Inside the apartment, Tim steps back from Sonja.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Sonja tilts her head, her black hair falling to one side. Her hand lingers on his chest. “What does it seem like I’m doing? Tim, if Loretta had never made me leave–“

But she is interrupted by a light rap at the door, and they both look to see Claire peeking her head into the apartment.

“Hi,” she says, immediately holding up the paper bag. “I have the antibiotics.”

“Thank you so much,” Tim says, and he breaks away from Sonja to hurry toward Claire. “I really appreciate you taking care of this.”

“Me, too,” Sonja chimes in from her post by the window. “Thank you, Claire.”

Claire responds with a stilted nod and smile as she hands Tim the bag. “Of course. Yeah. How is TJ?”

“He’s actually sleeping,” Sonja says. “We’ll give him the first pill as soon as he wakes up.”

“Poor thing. I really hope these do the trick,” Claire says. “I guess I’ll, um, leave you two to it.”

“No need to rush out,” Tim tells her. “Do you want a coffee or anything?”

Claire shakes her head. “I have a bunch of things to take care of. But thanks. Let me know how TJ is, okay?”

Without awaiting their response, she slips back out of the apartment. Confused, Tim gazes at the door as it clicks back into place. Sonja sidles up beside him.

“That was nice of Claire to bring these,” she says.

“It was, yeah.” He turns back toward her. “Sonja, about earlier…”

“I’m sorry if I caught you off-guard. But you have to admit that the thought has crossed your mind, too. We share a son, Tim. And what we had — it was good. It was promising.”

“It was.” His front teeth clamp down over his bottom lip. “But that was a long time ago, Sonja.”

“Not that long. TJ isn’t exactly heading off to college any time soon–“

“A lot has happened since then. That’s what I mean. And — well, I’m sorry if I’ve led you on at all.”

“You haven’t. But Tim–“

“TJ is my priority. And he’ll remain that,” he says. “But you and I? That ship sailed a long time ago.”

Sonja’s shoulders slump as she exhales loudly.

“I’m going to go check on TJ and see if he’s waking up,” Tim says.

She nods as he passes her the bag containing their son’s prescription. She takes the orange pill bottle from the bag and sets it down roughly on the kitchen counter.

“Dammit,” she says under her breath.

—–

Claire returns to the elevator and hastily presses the button for the subterranean garage, where she was advised to park so that she wouldn’t be spotted entering the building from the street. It feels as though it takes forever for the doors to close and the car to begin moving.

As the elevator descends, her mind replays the image of Tim and Sonja locked in a kiss. She supposes that she shouldn’t be surprised by it. The two share not only history, but a child. And Tim has been very focused on making sure that both TJ and Sonja are safe from Loretta’s evil intentions…

“It’s none of your business,” she mutters to herself, but that reminder doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach.

When the elevator deposits her in the building’s garage, she hurries back to her car, simply hoping to put it all out of her head. But the feelings haunt her for the entire drive home, no matter how she attempts to distract herself from them.

END OF EPISODE 1170

Will Sonja drop her pursuit of Tim now?
Is Claire wrong for feeling how she does?
Should Travis and Rosie pursue this legal battle?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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