Previously…
– Rosie lashed out at Travis after he proposed to her that they visit Gabrielle, per Molly and Brent’s request.
– While returning to work at Objection, Tori suffered a panic attack as frightening memories of her time with Zane struck her.
– Sarah continued to search for Sonja and TJ on Tim’s behalf.

“Is it too much for work? You can say if you hate it.”

Landon Esco stands by as he awaits Tori Gray‘s verdict. In her bedroom, which is serving a dual function as sleeping quarters and a home office, she stands by the desk, turning over the pink mug in her hands.

“‘Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss,'” she reads again before letting out a wild chuckle. “No, it’s perfect.”

“Whew. I wanted to get you something inspirational, but they were all so cheesy, so I thought…”

“I love it, Landon,” Tori tells him. She sets the mug down on the desk. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Always.” His eyes widen with alarm. “I mean, not that I’m always thinking of you– that I’m always happy to think of you. In a non-creepy way. Although saying that only makes it sound creepier…”

“You’re not creepy. Eccentric, definitely. But not creepy.”

“Okay, good,” Landon says with visible relief. “I wanted you to have something fun to take back to the office with you. When are you going back? Do you know yet?”

“My aunt and I agreed on next week. And I think I’m ready. Really.”

“You’re totally ready. You just didn’t expect it to bring back all those memories.”

“I definitely didn’t,” Tori says, and threads of that horrible day — when she arrived at the offices of Objection Designs, excited to resume her work, only to be caught off-guard by memories of Zane and a subsequent panic attack. Before those threads can weave themselves together and overtake her, though, she shakes her head. “I’m excited to go back. Nervous, but excited. Aunt Molly says it’s been fine having me work from home, but…”

“Then take her word for it,” he says. “I don’t know your aunt that well, but she doesn’t strike me as a lady who goes along with stuff that isn’t the way she wants it.”

Tori casts an eye toward her laptop screen, where her e-mail inbox and Slack messaging platform sit open. “I guess you’re right.”

“You’re gonna do great. But, uh, I was thinking…”

She cocks her head and waits for him to continue.

“Since it’s almost the end of the workday,” he says, with a glance at his Apple Watch, “what do you think about going to grab some dinner with me?”

—–

Downstairs in the same house, Sarah Fisher Gray sits at the kitchen table with her own laptop. A half-full glass of iced tea rests nearby, its exterior damp with condensation, and the ceiling fan whirs gently overhead.

Although Tori has been upstairs working all day, with Landon now upstairs visiting her, the house has been remarkably quiet. Billy is off at summer camp for the week, Matt is working at the restaurant, and Paula is doing volunteer work with her church group; as such, the day has been incredibly productive for Sarah, who is putting the finishing touches on a rather mundane client report.

Her typing is interrupted by the quick vibration of her cell phone, which is also perched on the table. She gives it a cursory glance — and then her typing hands freeze in mid-air, right above the keyboard, as she takes in the name displayed on the phone’s screen. She scrambles to grab the phone, eager to know what her contact has to say.

“Oh my god,” Sarah says as she reads the incoming message. It takes her a moment to process it fully, after so many months of frustration and inactivity. But the crux of the message is as clear as day: Sonja Kahele‘s Social Security Number was used at an Urgent Care office in Sandpoint, Idaho.

Without even knowing what her next move will be, Sarah pushes out her chair and closes her laptop.

—–

Travis Fisher closes the front door of his mother-in-law‘s home behind himself and flips the lock to secure it. All these years after his family and their town were terrorized by a serial killer, it is still second nature for him to lock the door every time he enters the house; having a police officer for a wife — and knowing Loretta Ragan is out there — only reinforces the habit. He drops his backpack on the floor and slides off his running shoes, and his sore feet cry out after their day in the restaurant’s kitchen.

The house is quiet, lit only by the glow of the sun coming in through the windows. He has always loved summer nights in the Pacific Northwest, when the sky never grows fully dark. As a kid, it always made the nights feel so full of potential and life. Tonight, however, he wonders what kind of tension lies ahead.

As he moves into the kitchen for a glass of water, he notices an orangish light flickering from inside the otherwise dark room. And when he turns the corner, he understands why: a candle is burning softly atop the round kitchen table, which has been set for dinner for two. A bottle of white wine, two glasses, and a low floral arrangement in a glass cube-shaped vase round out the arrangement.

“Welcome home,” his wife says from the corner of the room, beside the refrigerator.

“Oh. Hey,” Travis says, caught off-guard. “What’s all this…?” Things between the married couple have been painfully tense of late, especially since Travis disclosed that his aunt and uncle had floated the idea of Travis and Rosie coming to see Gabrielle in order to ease the transition in living situations for the little girl that they raised as their own for two years.

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Rosie explains, a little stiffly. But he can see a twinkle of openness and warmth in her eyes that has been absent for weeks. “Don’t worry, I got takeout. No need to torture you with my cooking.”

“Your cooking is great.”

“You say that now…” She lets out a small laugh. “My mom is out with her sister, so I thought we could have a quiet night — just the two of us. Eat, have some wine, talk…”

“I like that.” He moves toward her and reaches out his hands, unsure how the gesture will be received. Thankfully, she takes both his hands and steps closer toward him. He glances again at the romantic table setting. “I feel like I missed a beat somewhere. You’ve been so…”

“Pissed? Bitter? Yeah.” Rosie sucks in her lips for a moment. “My brother pointed out the same thing before he left. He made me realize how hard I’ve been on you, and it’s just…”

Travis nods along, understanding her message without her even having to vocalize it.

“I miss her, too,” he says. “I feel horrible. This sucks.”

“It does suck. But I shouldn’t be taking that out on you. I wanted to, I dunno, show you how much you mean to me. How much I love you.”

Rosie leans forward, stretching upward slightly on her toes to kiss him. The touch of her lips feels like as grand a relief as a drink of water after a week of being parched in the desert.

“I love you, too,” Travis says, as Rosie pushes his dirty blond hair out of his face. “Sorry. I’m all sweaty from work.”

“I don’t mind. I’m just happy you’re here. That we’re together. I want you to know that.”

“I do.” He kisses her again. “We’re gonna get through this, Rosie. Whatever it takes.”

“I want that. And I want you to know…” She trails off, seemingly searching for the right words.

“What?” he finally asks.

She draws in a deep breath and then exhales just as heavily. “That I don’t think I’m ready to see Gabrielle yet. It’s too soon. It’s too raw.”

“I get that.”

“But if you want to go over there and see her — help out,” she continues, unable to suppress a slight roll of her eyes at the reference to Molly and Brent’s request, “then you should be able to do that. “It’s not fair of me to dictate what you can and can’t do.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she says. “Now how about we eat before this food that I put so much work into ordering through an app gets cold?”

Travis smiles. “I like the way you think.”

—–

Upstairs in the Fisher home, Landon feels a nervous fluttering in his core after asking Tori to go out for dinner.

“Dinner’s on me, obviously,” he spurts out. “I’m paying, I mean.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Tori replies.

“I want to.”

Before she can respond, they’re interrupted by a persistent ding from her laptop. Instinctively they both look toward the screen, where a Slack message has popped up.

She moves closer to the desk and, after reading the message, mutters, “Dammit.”

“What?” Landon asks.

“Molly’s about to have an urgent call with a buyer,” she says. “She wants me to put them on and take notes.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” She quickly types a response in Slack before turning back to him. “Rain check on dinner, then?”

Landon forces a smile, uncertain if this is a next-week rain check or a never-gonna-happen one. “For sure.”

—–

Chug-chug-chug-chug…

“What the hell?” Sarah moans before slapping her hands on the steering wheel of her Jeep SUV. Despite her repeated and increasingly desperate attempts, the vehicle will not start.

“It’s not like I left the lights on or something,” she says to herself before hopping out the open driver’s door and walking the perimeter of the vehicle, as if that might solve the issue. Despite the evening hour, the summer sun beats down upon her, causing beads of sweat to form on her forehead. She lifts an arm to wipe them away and then returns to the driver’s seat to try starting the car once more.

“That doesn’t sound good,” a voice observes, and Sarah looks through the windshield to see Landon exiting the house.

“It’s very not good,” Sarah says. “I need to get to Idaho.”

Landon approaches the vehicle. “Idaho, like, the state? You’re just randomly driving there now?”

“It isn’t random. I got a lead on the whereabouts of Tim‘s son and that crazy nurse, and Tim is at a client dinner and not answering his phone, so I thought I’d–“

“Drive to Idaho right now?”

“I can’t let Sonja get away with TJ again,” Sarah says. “Tim is desperate to find them. If I can get there tonight, maybe I can catch them.” She presses the ignition button once more, only to be greeted by the same infuriating, repetitive grumbling noise.

“Do you have jumper cables?” she asks.

“Can’t say that I do. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Ours are in Matt’s truck, and…” She scrambles for her phone. “Maybe I can call someone to give me a jump.”

Landon hesitates for a moment, then pulls his keys from his pocket. “Or you could take a ride from a 5-star Uber driver. Ride’s on me, obviously.”

“You can’t drive me to Idaho tonight,” Sarah says.

“Why not?” He gazes back at the side of the house, though he isn’t sure which window belongs to Tori’s room. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“A normal response to having a free night isn’t to offer to drive your friend’s mother to another state.”

“I’ve never been accused of being normal,” he says. “Where in Idaho?”

“Sandpoint.”

He checks his Apple Watch. “We could be there in under five hours if traffic gives us a break.”

“You’re serious about this.”

“Totally. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Sarah thinks about this for the quickest of moments, then shrugs and grabs her packed weekender bag from the passenger seat. She slides out of the car and closes the driver’s door.

“I’ll call Matt from the road,” she says.

“And Tori,” Landon advises her. “Unless you want to go inside and tell her–“

“No time. Come on.”

She hurries toward Landon’s sedan, parked on the street, and he breaks into a jog to catch up with the older blonde woman.

—–

“That chicken is incredible,” Travis says as he sets down his fork. “I’m stuffed. I can’t either another bite.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Rosie says from across the table.

“Top-notch ordering work.”

“Thanks. I thought it’d be safer than cooking… except maybe if you wanted Mama’s tamales. Those I can pull off.”

“I know you can. I always look forward to those at Christmas now.”

The married couple stares at one another as the candle’s small flame flutters in the center of the table.

“Thank you for doing this,” Travis says, his tone softening. “I hate the way things have felt between us lately.”

“Me, too. What Sebastian said really made me think.”

“Your brother is a smart guy.” Travis takes another sip of the crisp white wine, then stands from his chair.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” He aligns himself behind Rosie’s chair and places his hands on her shoulders. She leans back, relishing his touch.

“I’ll clean up in a little bit,” he says.

“You don’t have to do that.”

He ignores this rebuttal, knowing that he will clean up since Rosie went to all the trouble of setting up this dinner. But first…

“How much longer is your mom gonna be out?” he asks as he runs his hands through her long, dark hair.

Rosie checks the time on the microwave’s digital display. “A few hours.”

“Good.” He swoops down and begins nibbling on her neck. “How about we go upstairs and I’ll deal with this mess later?”

Rosie sighs, savoring the feel of his soft lips against her skin. “I like that plan.”

He helps her out of the chair. “Then come on. I don’t want to waste another second.”

“Me, neither,” she agrees, holding onto his hand as she rises. They begin kissing as they stumble out of the kitchen together, hands all over one another.

END OF EPISODE 1227

Can Travis and Rosie get things back on track now?
What will Sarah and Landon discover in Idaho?
Does Tori understand Landon’s intentions?
Discuss all this and more in the comments below!

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