Previously…
– The Fishers held vigil as Spencer’s weeks-long coma continued.
– Travis was unnerved when he realized that Rosie had lied to him about having to work in order to leave a date, but he decided not to stir the pot by bringing it up.
– Tempest blamed Diane for bringing baby Chase’s biological father to town, and her anger caused a rift between her and Samantha.

“Now,” Don Chase says as he flicks his brush against the paper hung on his easel, “you can use light brushstrokes. Let the paint do what it wants. If you try to control it too much, it will show in the painting.”

Beside him, Paula Fisher frowns as she applies the paint to her own paper. She looks between her easel and the display of flowers set up a few feet in front of them. “I feel like I’m making a mess.”

They stand in the living room of Paula’s house, where Don has set up two easels for a painting lesson. Soothing classical music plays lightly in the background.

Don glances at her work. “You aren’t. This is how watercolors are. Think of the famous works you’ve seen – that looseness in form can be wonderful. Especially with something like flowers, there’s a certain fluidity to the result, something delicate and flowing that can bring out their inherent femininity.”

“You really are so smart with all this,” Paula says. “I never knew painting would be so technical. I suppose I should’ve…”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” he replies with an encouraging smile.

Tentatively, she begins to apply pink dabs of paint to the paper again. “I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to give a beginner like me a lesson. Everyone’s been so generous with their time.”

“Because we all want to make this year as pain-free as possible for you. You don’t deserve to be locked up like this, Paula.”

“I shot and killed a man.”

“You stopped a man from killing again.” He sets down his brush. “Philip Ragan was evil. Someone had to stop him.”

Paula’s mouth tightens into a line. Then she sighs. “All I know is that I wouldn’t be able to get through this without my family and friends.”

Before Don can respond, the doorbell rings. Paula sets down her own brush and crosses toward the entry to answer it.

“Paula, dear!” a very familiar voice exclaims. “I was whipping up a big batch of my famous five-alarm chili and thought I would bring some over for  you to keep in.”

“Helen?” Don says as he peeks into the entryway to see his wife standing there with a large Tupperware container full of chili. “What are you doing here?”

Helen’s eyes flutter. “Don? Why are you– oh, how forgetful of me. Today was your painting lesson, wasn’t it?”

“We’re in the middle of it now,” Paula says.

“It completely slipped my mind.” Helen hands Paula the chili. “Here. There was too much for just the two of us to keep at home. And since you — and all the other judges — didn’t get to try it at the cookoff, because of that horrible Fee C….”

“That’s very kind of you, Helen. I’ll go put this in the freezer. It’ll make a wonderful dinner one night soon.”

Paula shuffles off through the living room toward the kitchen. Don waits until she is out of earshot to address his wife again.

“You didn’t ‘forget’ that I was giving Paula a painting lesson today,” he says. “You came to check up on me, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Don.”

“Helen…”

“I don’t see what the big deal is. You’re here, I’m here… Paula is our friend.” She cocks an ear toward the living room. “That music sounds lovely. Why don’t I sit and watch you two paint? What a relaxing afternoon.”

Don’s protest dies unformed on his lips as Helen brushes past him and into the living room. Reluctantly he follows her, just as Paula returns from the kitchen.

“Don’t mind me at all,” Helen says as she seats herself on the sofa.

“You’re going to stay?” Paula asks.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. Can I get you some tea? Coffee? Lemonade?”

“Oh, I’m fine, but thank you.” Helen smooths her skirt. “I always enjoy watching my husband work.”

Don casts her a knowing look but then refocuses on Paula. He picks up his brush and indicates her in-progress painting. “Now, if you want to get some of the purple on your brush…”

This time, he is interrupted by the sound of a key unlocking the front door. They all pause and wait until Tori Gray appears at the entrance to the living room.

“I wasn’t expecting you home so soon,” Paula says to her granddaughter. She can tell that Tori is upset. “What’s going on?”

Tori scans the three of their faces, as her own twists with despair. “I was just at the hospital. It’s Spencer.”

Samantha Fisher slides into a booth in the main dining room of 322 Bar & Grill. Across from her are her older brother and his roommate.

“I feel like such a rebel,” she says as she places her purse down on the seat next to herself.

“Why?” Landon Esco asks over the table as he fiddles with the straw in his soda.

She shrugs. “Leaving work in the middle of the day to meet you guys. It’s fun.”

“It’s called a lunch break,” Travis Fisher says with a little laugh. “You’re allowed to take them.”

“I’ve been eating at my desk, mostly. There’s so much work to do.”

“See, that’s why I’ve got it made,” Landon proclaims. “I get to hang out in my car, on my schedule–”

“Didn’t a passenger almost throw up on you yesterday?” Travis cuts in.

“Yeah, but he didn’t actually.” Landon rolls his eyes. “Driving for Uber is dope.”

“It’s very you. I’ll say that much,” Samantha says. “But it is nice that you get to make your own schedule.”

The waitress pulls up alongside their table and takes Samantha’s order for an iced tea. Once she is gone, Travis looks at his sister more seriously.

“How are you doing with this whole Tempest thing?” he asks. “You seemed really stressed out when you were texting me.”

She exhales heavily. “It feels like we’re going in circles. She’s so determined to blame my mom for everything that she perceives as having gone wrong.”

“Your mom didn’t kill her mom,” Landon says.

“No, but she got herself involved so deeply in the adoption situation,” Samantha says. “That’s how my mom is. Yeah, it can be annoying, but it doesn’t make her a bad person. In the end, she wanted to make sure Tempest’s brother went to a good home. She wasn’t doing anything malicious.”

“You and Tempest couldn’t have raised him,” Travis adds.

Samantha shakes her head. “I know. But she was convinced it had to be that way. Now she’s sort of okay with Alex and Trevor adopting him, but she’s blaming my mom for bringing Yvette’s ex here, and… What I think is really happening is that she’s just grieving and experiencing all these intense emotions, but she won’t listen to anyone long enough to see it that way.”

Travis offers a sympathetic look. “Maybe it’ll take some time for her to settle down. Then this can all blow over.”

“I really hope you’re right,” Samantha says with widened eyes.

—–

“Can I make you anything for lunch?” Claire Fisher asks as she stops beside the dining table in her apartment.

Tempest Banks looks up from her laptop, which is flanked by a variety of folders, bills, and other documents. “I’ll get myself something in a little bit. But thanks.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you change your mind. How’s working from home going?”

“Y’know, I always thought it sounded so great,” Tempest says. “But it just means I’m getting more damn e-mails that I’ve ever gotten before.”

“Well, it’s only one day.”

Tempest lets out a loud huff. “Thank god. I don’t know why they’ve gotta do this fumigating thing in the middle of the week, anyway.”

“It would probably cost more to close down the arena on a weekend,” Claire says. She moves toward the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. Tempest attempts to refocus on her work, but as has been the case all morning, she is distracted by something gnawing at the back of her mind.

“What was it like when you had to give up Samantha to Diane?” she asks suddenly.

Claire’s head peeks around the corner of the galley kitchen. “Where did that come from?”

“I’ve just been thinking, that’s all.”

“Is this about Chase? Because Hank signed the paperwork giving up his parental rights to Alex and Trevor. There isn’t anything you can–”

“I know.” Tempest pushes her chair back and folds her arms. “Just thinking, that’s all. Must’ve been hard for you.”

“To say the least.” Claire closes the refrigerator. “All those years that Tim was gone, Samantha was as much my child as Travis was. And I knew, deep down, that Diane would always be her mother and should be a part of her life, but…” She leans against the wall as she collects her thoughts. “After everything that happened for us to get custody in the first place, I felt like I was truly the one capable of giving her a better home at the time.”

“Hold up. Y’all had another custody fight?”

“Yeah. Not long after Samantha was born. Diane didn’t just leave without a fight. But the judge awarded custody to Tim and me. If Tim hadn’t gone missing, we probably would’ve raised Samantha her entire life.”

“Wow. That’s crazy.” The gears inside Tempest’s head begin to spin faster. “So what happened? It’s gotta be bad for them to take a kid away from her mom when she’s that little.”

Now Claire’s expression becomes tighter, more reserved. She studies the floor as she gathers herself before speaking.

“It was complicated,” she says. “And it was a very long time ago. For all Diane’s faults–”

“There’s a whole damn lot of them!”

“–for all her faults, she did an excellent job with Samantha. For that, I’m grateful. Maybe everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“I don’t know about all that.”

Claire comes over and squeezes Tempest’s shoulder. “Don’t worry so much about all this stuff. Chase is going to be safe and happy with Alex and Trevor. You’ll get to be a part of his life. Everything is going to be okay.”

Tempest is silent as she considers this.

“Why don’t you worry about your work,” Claire says, “and I’ll make you some lunch so that you don’t have to bother with it?”

“I guess that’s cool,” Tempest says, looking up with a faint smile, even though work is now the furthest thing from her mind. There has to be more to this whole backstory than Claire is letting on. There has to be.

—–

After lunch, Samantha gives Travis a hug near the front door of the restaurant.

“Thanks for letting me vent,” she says.

“Any time. Besides, I’m sure I’ll have stuff of my own to vent about sometime. Gotta save up some goodwill.”

“Can I get in on that, too?” Landon says.

Samantha laughs. “You can vent to me anytime you want.”

Suddenly Landon slaps Travis on the shoulder.

“What the hell?” Travis says, jerking away.

“Look. Outside.” Landon points through the glass door to the street, where bodies move back and forth. But it takes only a second for Travis to zero in on what has caught Landon’s attention.

“Is that Rosie?” Samantha asks.

They all watch her, in cutoff jean shorts and a striped t-shirt, crossing the street as she heads away from them. She holds a bouquet of bright flowers in one hand.

“I thought she said she was working today,” Landon says.

“She did.” Travis’s voice is almost robotic. The weight of this realization lands hard on all of them, and the spell is only broken when they need to move out of the way so that a woman can pass through the door.

“You should follow her,” Landon blurts out.

Travis turns to his friend, though his reaction seems to happen in slow-motion. Finally his face settles into a solemn mask. “No. Whatever. If she wants to lie about what she’s doing — if she doesn’t want to be with me — then it’s not worth the trouble.”

“You don’t know that she doesn’t want to be with you,” Samantha says. “Maybe there’s something else going on.”

“She’s carrying flowers. And this is the second time she’s lied about working. Whatever.” He shakes his head dismissively. “I need to get to work.”

Landon gazes down the street, where they can still see Rosie’s form moving into the distance.

“I was thinking of turning on the app and picking up some rides,” he says. “Sam, do you think you could drop Travis off on your way back to work?”

The siblings look at one another and shrug.

“Sure, that’s not a problem,” she says. “It’ll give us some more time to talk, too.”

They quickly say their goodbyes, and Samantha leads Travis toward the restaurant’s parking lot. Landon hurries down the street, where his car is parked at a meter. But when he hops inside and starts the engine, he doesn’t even bother setting up the Uber app; he pulls right out of the spot and crosses two lanes of traffic, determined not to lose his target.

—–

All three adults’ breath catches as they stare at Tori.

“What’s happened?” Paula asks, bringing a hand to her mouth in fear.

“It’s okay now,” her granddaughter says, though a hitch of emotion interrupts her words. “I was in there, sitting with him, and this monitor started beeping. I don’t even know what it was. But all these doctors and nurses came running in, and… it was scary.”

“But they said everything is all right?” Paula moves toward Tori. “They got things under control?”

Tori nods. “It sounded like it, yeah. One of the nurses told me it was fine.” She pauses to take a deep breath. “But he’s been like that for so long. I thought something terrible was happening.”

“I’ll have to call and ask what it was,” Paula says. “I hope someone called Tim.”

“They did. He was leaving work to go back over in a little while.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that, dear,” Helen says as she rises from the sofa. “And your poor cousin.”

“It sounds like Spencer is a real fighter,” Don interjects. “If his body has held on this long, it means his will is still intact. That says a lot.”

“We all hope that’s the case,” Paula says. “I suppose I’m just grateful that girl was there to find him. To think about him lying alone in his house, hurt so badly…”

“Who found him?” Helen asks. “And how can you be so certain that this person didn’t do something to him?”

“It was Sabrina,” Tori explains. “Philip’s old assistant–”

Helen gasps. “That woman is still in King’s Bay? She has some nerve!”

Don reaches out a hand to calm his wife. “Please…”

“She should know how painful it is for so many of us to hear her name, even after all this time,” Helen rants. “She has no place being here!”

Paula and Tori exchange nervous looks.

Helen clocks them at once. “What is it?”

“She has a job,” Paula says tentatively, “at the coffee shop in Jason’s arena.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jason felt badly for her after what happened with Philip. He wanted to help her out.”

“She’s nice,” Tori adds. “Boring, but nice. There’s no way she had anything to do with Spencer’s accident.”

“If that’s even what it was!” Helen says.

“Sabrina was outside the house when the paramedics arrived,” Paula says. “They had to break down the door to get to him.”

Helen’s head swivels in disbelief from Paula to Tori to Don. “Just why is everyone so quick to believe a woman with her… background?”

“Her background is that she was in a coma for years,” Paula expounds. “Shannon Parish stole her identity. Sabrina herself didn’t do anything.”

Helen crosses her arms over her chest and harrumphs.

“Mrs. Chase, I really don’t think Sabrina pushed Spencer. I swear,” Tori says. “She’s not that good an actress. She did say she heard him arguing with someone, but…”

“It must have been a phone call,” Paula says. “There was no one there.”

After a long pause, Helen says, “It all sounds a little suspicious, if you ask me. But what’s most important is  that Spencer gets better. When he wakes up, he’ll be able to tell us exactly what happened.”

—–

Landon hides behind a tree at Bayside Cemetery. With every minute that passes, he feels a bit more awkward; he didn’t expect that this would be the place where Rosie was headed. Though he is maintaining a safe distance, just enough to be able to tell that she is still standing in front of whatever grave brought her here today, he still feels like an intrusive creep.

All he wanted to do was figure out what she was up to and why she keeps lying to Travis. And why couldn’t she have told him that she had to go visit someone’s grave today? It isn’t like that’s something she would need to lie about.

“What is going on with you?” he mutters. “And what are you doing with my boy?”

Finally, Rosie lifts her head and seems to wipe her eyes. She walks away from the grave, winding her way back down the path toward the parking lot. Landon lingers behind the tree, unmoving and unseen, until he is certain that she is gone. Then he walks out and, still nervous that she might somehow see him, hurries to where she was just standing. The bouquet of flowers that she left show him exactly which grave it was.

The modest stone reads: Manuel Jimenez, Beloved Husband and Father. And then he notices the date of death: it is today’s date from 2013.

“Her dad?” Landon says aloud, even more puzzled. Why would visiting her father’s grave on the anniversary of his death need to be a secret?

“We’re gonna figure out what’s going on with you,” he says, looking off toward the parking lot.

END OF EPISODE 884

Why would Rosie lie to Travis this way?
Will Helen ever change her mind about Sabrina?
What is Tempest going to do next?
Share your thoughts on the episode below!

Next Episode