Previously…
– As Samantha and Tempest reunited, a mysterious woman watched them sharing a romantic dinner.
– Wanting all three of their children present for the occasion, Molly and Brent remarried in a private backyard ceremony during one of their supervised visits with Gabrielle.
– Travis and Rosie were upset when they learned about the secret wedding, and the fact that Paula had been in attendance. When the judge presiding over the custody case caught the couples arguing about the wedding, he chided all of them sternly, right before the trial was set to begin.

When the door at the back of the courtroom opens, Tim and Claire Fisher step inside the small space and immediately feel the density of emotions in the air. Although the room is almost entirely silent, something is buzzing in the air, a thick, uncomfortable tension that might as well be announcing itself in screams. The couple trades a puzzled look as they move past the few rows of benches toward the front of the room, where their son and his wife wait listlessly at a table with their attorney.

“What’s going on?” Tim asks in a half-whisper as he leans over the railing that separates the spectators’ seating from the tables reserved for the involved parties and their representatives. At the front of the room, the judge’s bench sits unoccupied and foreboding.

“Hey, Dad. Mom,” Travis says as he turns in the wooden chair. “Did you know…?”

Tim’s face contorts with confusion, while Claire places a hand on her former husband and current lover’s back as she, too, leans toward Travis and Rosie. 

“Know what?” she asks.

The stony looks on Travis and Rosie’s faces, as well as on that of their attorney, Jaimie Thompson, cause Claire to grasp Tim’s shoulder hard.

“Did the judge decide something?” Claire asks.

Rosie shakes her head. “Not yet. But we all got scolded pretty well.”

“Scolded?” Tim echoes in confusion.

“Things got a little heated out in the hallway,” a voice says, and all of them shift to see Paula Fisher hovering nearby. The older woman speaks at full volume, albeit still in a soft, apologetic voice, and it suddenly seems that everyone in the courtroom is paying attention to her.

Tim narrows his eyes at his mother. “What do you mean, heated?”

“We got a little surprise when Jaimie got here before,” Travis explains. “Something Grandma kept from all of us.”

“It wasn’t my place to tell you,” Paula says, a note of desperation bleeding into her voice.

“We shouldn’t get into this again,” Rosie interjects.

Travis looks to his wife and sighs. “You’re right.”

“What the hell is going on?” Tim presses. “What are you all keeping from us?”

“Your sister and Brent were remarried recently,” Paula explains.

As Tim and Claire take in this news, they both glance across the aisle, where Molly and Brent Taylor sit with their own lawyers, Conrad Halston and Elly Vanderbilt. The foursome is ostensibly going over strategy for the impending hearing, but all of them are more focused on the conversation taking place ten or fifteen feet away.

“Oh,” Claire says, with an exaggerated flatness to her tone. “I guess we should have known that was coming.” She glowers at both Brent and Molly, who say nothing in response.

“They got married during one of their supervised visits with Gabrielle,” Travis explains. “We only found out once Jaimie got a copy of the social worker’s report.”

“You what?” Tim asks, finally increasing its volume so that it reaches right across the aisle.

A beat passes before Brent clasps Molly’s hand and then says, “We aren’t going to argue over this anymore. Not now, not ever. The social worker’s report tells you everything that you need to know.”

“The judge came through the hall just after we found out and chewed us all out for arguing,” Travis tells his parents. “But, like… Grandma was there, and she kept it to herself until today.”

Tim spins around to address his mother. “You were there?! And you kept quiet?”

“It wasn’t my place to say a thing,” Paula replies. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Not choose sides,” Tim fires back. “But I guess you did that weeks ago.” Still holding Claire’s hand, he takes a seat in the row right behind Travis, Rosie, and Jaimie; Claire follows suit, and the group focuses forward, effectively freezing out Paula.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” she says, sounding weak with regret, but when none of them acknowledge her words, she shuffles back to the other side of the courtroom to await the judge’s arrival and the start of the hearing.

“You’re spoiling me lately,” Samantha Fisher says as she dips her spoon into the cup of frozen yogurt. 

“That’s ‘cuz I want to,” Tempest Banks tells her with a grin. The two women sit at a table on the terrace outside Objection Designs. The outdoor space on the 18th floor of Winston Tower is a popular spot for the company’s employees to enjoy breaks and meals, and right now, with the summer sun sitting proudly in the sky and the air clear, it boasts a gorgeous view of downtown King’s Bay, stretching out toward the water, which shimmers in the distance.

“Well, I hope you keep wanting to,” Samantha says with a giggle. “Because an afternoon fro-yo pick-me-up was exactly what I needed today.”

“Good.” Tempest licks her own plastic spoon and then lets it drop into her nearly empty fro-yo cup. “Thought you might need a distraction today.”

Samantha lets out a sigh as she twirls her spoon between her fingers. “Yeah. I keep waiting for my phone to buzz with an update from court, even though I know it’ll be a while still.”

“You talk to Travis today?”

“I sent him a text to wish him and Rosie good luck. I didn’t want to bother them too much. I had said I would take the day off and go support them–”

“Claire told me I shouldn’t do that,” Tempest says.

“My dad said the same thing. I don’t think they want a whole big crowd there.”

They sit in silence for a long moment. Samantha scoops up another bite of the rapidly melting yogurt and brings it to her mouth.

“You definitely did a nice job surprising me,” she says to Tempest. “I’d say you’re in the running for Girlfriend of the Month–” She catches herself as soon as the statement slips out, but it is too late; the words are now out there.

“Sorry,” she finally corrects herself, as her cheeks flush. “I didn’t mean to…”

Tempest leans forward. “Didn’t mean to what?”

“Jump the gun. I know we just started seeing each other again.”

“But what if I’m glad you did?”

Samantha relaxes a little bit. “Are you?”

“You think I’m mad that you’re calling me your girlfriend again? Sam, do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that? Or how long I spent thinking it would never happen?”

“It’s happening,” Samantha says. “And as long as you’re okay with it, I’m not going to stop saying it.”

“Good.” Tempest stretches across the table to give Samantha a quick kiss, mindful of the fact that they are at her workplace. “Say it again.”

“Fine… girlfriend,” Samantha says, and now she is the one sporting the grin.

—–

Some time later, the judge has taken his post at the imposing bench at the head of the courtroom, and those in attendance watch anxiously as Conrad questions the social worker, who sits on the stand in a nondescript gray blazer and white blouse.

“Would you please identify yourself for the court?” Conrad asks the woman.

“Yes. Of course,” the short-haired lady replies in a matter-of-fact way, making it clear that she has done this many times before. “Denise Skubisz from the Department of Children, Youth, and Families.”

“And what is your connection to the case at hand?”

“I’m the case worker assigned to Gabrielle Fisher’s case,” Ms. Skubisz tells him. 

“Which means you are the author of the reports that have been submitted to the court regarding Gabrielle’s case, correct?” Conrad asks, though it is more of a statement, as he walks nearer to the stand.

“That’s right. I’ve filed a number of reports since being assigned to Gabrielle’s case. All of them have been submitted to my agency, Judge Barnett, and the other parties involved in this hearing.”

“Is it correct to presume that you have spent a significant of time with little Gabrielle, with both her biological parents — Brent and Molly Taylor — and her adoptive parents?”

“Yes, I have.” Ms. Skubisz straightens the lapel of her blazer. 

“What have you observed during your time with the Taylors and Gabrielle?” Conrad continues. 

Behind the defendants’ table, Travis leans toward Rosie. “Isn’t this all in the reports already?”

“Yeah, but we knew they were gonna do this,” Rosie whispers. “Laying it on really thick how good the visits have been.”

“Ugh,” Travis huffs.

“I would describe the visits as both positive and pleasant,” the social worker explains. 

“Gabrielle seems at ease with the Taylors, would you say?” Conrad asks.

“She’s still becoming familiar with them,” Ms. Skubisz says, “but they’re developing a rapport, yes.”

“Has she ever seemed distressed in their presence, from what you’ve observed?”

“Not overly so, no. She is a toddler, of course. So sometimes she doesn’t want to eat what’s in front of her, or her nap schedule is off–“

“Her nap schedule is off?” Conrad repeats with a note of intrigue in his voice. “These visits are always scheduled well ahead of time, no?”

“They are, yes.”

“Do the Taylors’ planned, supervised visits with Gabrielle include nap time?” Conrad questions.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Rosie mutters, loudly enough for only Travis and Jaimie to hear.

“No,” the social worker answers.

Conrad’s questioning proceeds: “Then it would be Travis Fisher and Rosie Jimenez who are responsible for Gabrielle’s sleep schedule, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Ms. Skubisz says.

“Interesting.” Conrad allows that to hang in the air for several seconds while he passes back and forth. The sound of his Italian dress shoes against the worn floor is the only sound in the room. Finally he faces the stand again and asks, “Have you witnessed Gabrielle arrive for her visits with her biological parents tired or unrested?”

The social worker shifts in her seat and takes another moment to answer. “She has needed a nap a time or two, yes.”

Conrad returns to the petitioners’ table, where Elly hands him a report bound in a black folder. He flips it open and goes to a page marked with a blue Post-It. “In your notes from the visit on July 16th of this year, it says that a trip to the aquarium had to be cancelled because Gabrielle was crying and needed a nap. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor spent most of the visit settling her down and then letting them sleep in her bed. You did write that, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Ms. Skubisz says with a quick nod.

“So Travis Fisher and Rosie Jimenez sent this little girl to a planned visit without proper rest, and the Taylors used a significant portion of one of their relatively few visits helping Gabrielle catch up on sleep. Is that–“

“Objection,” Jaimie says as she rises swiftly to her feet.

Judge Barnett regards her silently for a moment and then raps his gavel. “Overruled.” 

“Is that an accurate summary of your report?” Conrad finishes.

“Yes, that’s what happened on July 16th,” the social worker says.

As Jaimie takes her seat again, Travis leans over to her. 

“If this is how they’re going to play this,” he tells her quietly, “then you need to do what we discussed.” Beside him, Rosie nods in fervent agreement.

—–

In the lobby of Winston Tower, one of the numerous elevators reaches the ground floor with a ding. Its doors part, and Samantha and Tempest step out, their fingers intertwined.

“You didn’t have to walk me all the way down,” Tempest says.

“But I wanted to,” Samantha replies with a wink. “Girlfriend.”

“Fine. Girlfriend.” Tempest laughs. “I wish I didn’t have to get back to work.”

“Same. But I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“You know it.” Tempest plants a peck on Samantha’s lips. “And maybe there’s more of that, since you won’t be at work and all…”

“That sounds even better than surprise fro-yo.” Samantha kisses her back. “Text me when you get back to the arena, okay?”

“I will.”

After another few seconds of their eyes twinkling at one another, they untangle their fingers, and Tempest moves for the exit. Samantha watches her leave and then returns to the elevator. She swipes her ID badge, and in a matter of moments, another car is whisking her back up to the 18th floor.

Against one wall of the large lobby, nondescript among all the foot traffic and bustling bodies that are typical of the building in the middle of the workday, a woman with long, light brown hair purses her lips.

“So your girlfriend works somewhere in this fancy building,” the woman says under her breath, as she continues to eye the revolving door through which Tempest exited only a minute ago. “Not exactly the lead I was looking for… but I have faith in you leading me where I need to get to, Tempest.”

An intense expression overtakes the 30-something woman’s face as she drums her short but nicely manicured pink fingernails against her jeans-clad thigh.

—–

Once Conrad concludes his questioning of Ms. Skubisz, Jaimie Thompson stands from her seat again and strides confidently out from behind the table where Travis and Rosie sit tensely, their hands clasped together.

“Ms. Skubisz, thank you for being here today,” Jaimie begins. “Your expertise is invaluable as we all try to navigate this complicated situation.”

The social worker responds with another polite nod.

“We’ve all had a chance to review your detailed reporters,” the attorney goes on. “How long have you been a case worker with DCYF?”

“This is my 18th year.”

“I assume you write and file a lot of similar reports in your line of work, don’t you?”

“I do, yes.”

“So you’ve been privy to a lot of supervised visitations as part of custody proceedings?”

“I have,” Ms. Skubisz says. She ends the statement with her lips held slightly apart, as if there is something else she is not sure whether she should say.

“In your experience,” Jaimie asks, “do visits that are ‘positive and pleasant,’ as you described Gabrielle’s visits with Brent and Molly Taylor earlier, always correlate with an outcome that’s best for the child?”

The social worker furrows her brow. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

Underneath the table, Rosie squeezes Travis’s hand a little harder as they wait to see their attorney’s gambit play out.

“What I’m asking you, as a thoroughly experienced case worker,” Jaimie says, “is whether a visit that’s ‘positive and pleasant’ means anything for the eventual custody placement. Surely just because a child has an okay afternoon-“

“Objection!” Conrad declares, shooting to his feet.

“Sustained,” Judge Barnett says. “Ms.Thompson, the outcome of other custody cases has no bearing on this situation.”

Jaimie fights off a frown and replies, “Your Honor, the witness has an extensive amount of experience in her field and a unique perspective-“

“Move on to another line of questioning,” the judge says sternly.

“Nice job,” Elly tells Conrad quietly as he takes his seat again.

“Dammit,” Travis mutters as he and Rosie watch their lawyer gather herself so that she can redirect her entire strategy in the blink of an eye. 

END OF EPISODE 1194

Are the decks stacked against Travis and Rosie now?
Can Paula repair the rifts within her family?
What does the mystery woman want with Tempest?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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