Previously…
– Desperate to keep Zane away from her daughter, Sarah finally caved and gave him a check for the $100,000 that he demanded months ago in exchange for his silence about her having covered up the surveillance video of Paula shooting Philip.
– Matt brought Travis to what he saw as the perfect new spot for the family restaurant: the pier where Bill’s old eatery used to reside. The owner told them she was about to close the deal with a prospective tenant.
– Spencer awoke from his coma with amnesia about the past two years and a long road to recovery in front of him. Tim asked his son to move into his house while he recuperates, and Spencer, not remembering their recent rift, agreed.
– The morning after accepting Jason’s marriage proposal, Natalie was shocked to learn that Spencer was awake. Frantic to make sure that he didn’t recall the truth about baby Peter’s paternity or Natalie’s involvement in his accident, she went to the hospital to see him.

“That’s insane.”

Spencer Ragan sits upright in his hospital bed, his back propped against his pillow and the wall. Natalie Bishop sits in a chair beside the bed with her purse in her lap.

“We had no idea until you came for Thanksgiving with Jason and saw me?” he asks, sounding out for himself as much as for her.

“Yeah. It was insane.” Natalie leans in. “You really don’t remember at all? It was actually here, at the hospital–”

“Why here?”

“Because Tori was still unconscious,” she explains, “after what Philip did to her. Your grandparents decided to have Thanksgiving dinner here so that Sarah and Matt wouldn’t have to leave her side.”

“I guess that makes sense.” He stares blankly at the morning news show on the now-muted TV in the corner, then turns back toward her. “And that was it? We haven’t…?”

“No! No.” Natalie shakes her head vigorously, leaving her auburn hair to bounce around in its wake. “That’s why I wanted to come talk to you privately. No one else has a clue, and we agreed to keep it that way. Jason and I, we’re actually…”

She holds up her hand, revealing the sparkling diamond ring that Jason gave her last night.

Spencer reacts to it with wide eyes. “Whoa. When are you getting married?”

“We haven’t set a date yet. The engagement is actually fairly recent.” She gulps, doing her best to maintain her calm as she launches into the topic that she actually came here to discuss. “We also have a son together.”

“Oh.” She watches him turn over this new piece of information in his mind for a few seconds. “How old is he?”

Natalie had a feeling that was coming, so she readies herself to roll out the prepared response as smoothly as she can. “A year-and-a-half. Peter. He’s such a good little boy.”

“That’s good.”

She can already see the question forming, so she reminds herself to wait patiently, as if it’s such an absurd possibility that it doesn’t even exist in her brain.

“If he’s a year-and-a-half, couldn’t he be…?”

“Nope. Believe me, we’ve been through that.”

“We have?”

“Yeah. You and I– we talked about it.” She glances behind herself just to be certain that the door is still closed and they aren’t being overheard. “The timing made it a pretty remote possibility, but we had a test done to be sure. Peter is Jason’s. No one has any idea that you and I…”

As she trails off, Spencer nods, silently completing the thought for her.

“I’m really sorry to come here and dump all of this on you,” she says. “But I wanted to spare you the confusion, depending on whether you remembered anything, and I didn’t want you to be thrown when you saw Jason and me together, with our son.”

“Thanks, I guess. Like, what are the odds that some lady I went home from a bar with would wind up dating my uncle?”

“It’s weird. It’s really weird.” Again she leans forward, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Jason has no idea, though. And while I’m sure he would understand if we explained, it’s been so long that I worry he would think we were keeping it secret for some deeper reason.”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally. There’s no reason he needs to know. It was only twice, wasn’t it?”

“My point exactly. After everything this family has been through — and you…”

“I know. I still can’t believe Bill is dead,” Spencer says. “And that Philip is the one who did it. How did I not know it was him?”

Natalie pounces on the opportunity to bond a little more. “No one did. You can’t blame yourself for not having seen it. He made sure that no one did.”

“Still. I lived with him!”

She sighs with concern. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. I hope I haven’t upset you even more by coming at you with all of this.”

“No, it’s better this way. So I don’t step in anything.” He goes quiet for a long, contemplative moment. “The Fishers are all I have now, after everything with my mother and Philip. I wouldn’t want to fuck that all up because of some drunken fling we had two years ago.”

“I agree.” She searches his face for some sign that he might know more than he is letting on, that he might be playing her in some way, but she sees none; he also appears too exhausted to pull off such a flawless charade. She wishes there were some way that she could see inside his head to confirm that this is all on the level, but barring that, this will have to do.

“I’ll let you rest. But it’s good that we were able to talk.” Natalie stands, a smile crossing her red lips. “Spencer, I’m so glad that you’re all right. Everything is going to work out just fine.”

—–

“Thank you for coming,” Tim Fisher says as he closes the door behind his visitor, “especially on such short notice.”

“Of course,” the woman says.  From what Tim can tell, she is in her late 30s or early 40s, with shiny black hair and tan skin that glows even without a trace of makeup. She wears a black pencil skirt and a plain, light blue blouse. “That’s what our field is all about. You can’t plan for emergencies.”

“True.” He leads the way down the short hallway to the kitchen of his house. “Can I get you some coffee or tea?”

“Herbal tea would be great, if you have it,” she says.

“I do. Have a seat, please.” He gestures toward the carved wooden farm table that sits to one side of the kitchen and then retrieves the kettle from a cupboard.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, Ms….” He glances back at the paper that sits on the kitchen island. “DeGeorge. Sorry, I’ve been staring at so much paperwork, between the hospital and the insurance company.”

“That’s okay,” she says as she places her purse on the floor beside her chair. “But I’m not Ms. DeGeorge. There must’ve been a mix-up. I’m Sonja Kahele.”

“Oh. That’s strange. The e-mail from the agency said…”

“Sometimes there are last-minute changes. The nurse they originally were going to send probably booked another job. It happens all the time.”

“I’m sure things get a little hectic,” Tim agrees as he fills the kettle with water. “Did you have a chance to look over my son’s file, then?”

“I did. I’m glad to see that he’s doing so well. From the sounds of it, he’s a prime candidate for a full recovery.”

“I hope so.” Tim lights the stove and sets the kettle on the burner. “Before the fall, he was — at least from what I could tell — a healthy guy in his 20s. Worked out pretty often, no major issues…”

“That really does give him a leg up as far as rehabbing,” Sonja says. “And you’re sure you would need live-in help?”

“I think so. I work full-time. Even if the physical and occupational therapy only took up a few hours a day, I wouldn’t want him to be alone, especially if he couldn’t get around. It seems safer.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.”

After pulling two mugs from an upper cabinet, Tim sets them beside the stove and then joins her at the table. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? What’s your background? What brings you to King’s Bay?”

She folds her hands on the table. “I grew up in Hawaii. On the big island — a town called Hilo.”

“I’ve only been to Maui,” Tim says. “Years ago. It was beautiful.”

“Hawaii is gorgeous.” Her voice takes on a slightly wistful tone. “I still miss it, in some ways.”

“What brings you here, then?”

“Well…” A grin appears on her face. “After high school, I moved to the mainland to stay with an aunt who lived in California. And you know how teenagers are — I was running around, trying everything new. But then my aunt was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was tough. But I wound up being her caretaker, and in that… I found my calling. There’s nothing more important than humbly helping other humans. I was a selfish kid, but once I saw how much help my aunt needed, I just… I had to let it happen. I had to change. And I’m thrilled that I did.”

“Sounds like you’re in the right line of work,” Tim says.

“Absolutely.”

The kettle whistles, and Tim stands to take it off the burner.

“Did your son live at home before his accident?” she asks.

“No, he was renting a house. That’s where the fall happened.”

“I’m sure it’ll be an adjustment for him to be back here. For both of you.”

“Actually…” He places a teabag in each of the mugs and fills them with hot water. “Spencer has never lived with me. In this house or any other one. We have a bit of a strange situation.”

“Oh. It’s nice that you’re able to be here for him at a time like this.”

“Yeah. It is.” He puts on a hopeful expression as he brings their tea to the table and takes his seat again. She thanks him.

“I missed a lot of time with Spencer,” Tim says. “The least I can do is help him now. I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that he recovers — both physically and mentally.”

—–

Sarah Fisher Gray hears the heavy footsteps racing up the stairs as she sits at the desk in her and her husband’s bedroom.

“Billy?” she calls out. “I told you no running–”

“It’s me,” Matt’s voice says back, and an instant later, he is standing in the doorway to their room.

“What got into you?” she asks as she closes her laptop, which she has been using to write up a report on a client’s case.

“Just came from a meeting.” He is still catching his breath as he comes closer and leans one shoulder against the wall.

“Did you run from it?”

“No. Just excited. I have to ask you something.”

She swivels her chair toward him. “Shoot.”

“You know how when you sold Graham’s house, you put the money into that savings account for Billy?”

“Yeah, I remember,” she says. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“I kinda remember you saying something about putting a hundred grand into a different account, in case we had an emergency or something.”

Sarah is sure that her heart stops on the spot. Why is he bringing this up now? There’s no way he could know that she brought Zane Tanaka that check. Would that bastard have stabbed her in the back and told Matt?! His attitude certainly doesn’t seem like it…

Trying her best to keep her breathing calm, she says, “Yeah. Just in case we needed it.”

“Well, we need it.” He folds his thick forearms in front of his navy t-shirt. “Travis and I found a spot for the restaurant. Get this: it’s on Pier 22.”

Sarah shoots up out of her chair. “Where the Fisherman’s Pier used to be?”

“Same spot. The new building has an opening.”

“That’s too good to be true.”

“For real. The owner has a tenant almost set, but they haven’t signed papers or anything. I got her to agree that if we pay an entire year’s rent up front, we get the space.”

“So that’s why you asked about that money,” she says, barely managing to suppress a colossal exhale of relief.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t ever ask if it were something for me, but this– this is for your dad, and your mom, and the whole family, really.”

“Yeah. It is. This is the perfect way to honor Dad’s legacy.” She throws her arms around him, both out of gratitude and to keep him from seeing the emotions rushing over her face. “Thank you for all the work you’ve put into this. It will mean so much to everyone, especially my mom.”

“I hope so.” His arms wrap around her back and pull her close.

Sarah tries to relax into his body, but she hopes that he can’t feel the residual pounding of her heart.

“I’ll take care of the transfer this afternoon,” she says. “Just tell me what I need to do.” Thankfully, he doesn’t offer to do it himself; he has no idea of the exact numbers, so she should be able to take another $100,000 from the savings account without him ever being the wiser. She feels a pang of guilt for drawing from what is supposed to be Billy’s account, but given how much they netted from the sale of Graham’s house and the interest that will accrue over the coming years, the exact sum might not matter. What’s important is that their family is whole and safe — and, with Zane out of the picture and Bill’s restaurant about to be given new life, that’s exactly how they will be.

—–

As she strides down the hospital corridor, Natalie allows herself to breathe a sigh of relief. That went about as well as it could have gone. She has little doubt that she and Spencer are on the same page, and if she is the only one who knows the actual truth, then the story that she just established with him is the only truth that matters now.

Of course, there is always the question of what happens if and when he regains his memory. Perhaps she will be lucky, and that will never happen. But if it does, she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it. There are a lot of ways to spin a bout of amnesia and a scrambled memory.

She is yanked from her thoughts by the sight of a familiar face up ahead.

“Natalie. Hi,” Sabrina Gage says as she stops walking. Natalie is tempted to brush right past her and keep going, though she knows that rudeness would only draw more attention to her presence here.

“Good morning,” Natalie says. “Coming to visit Spencer?”

“Yeah. I was actually here last night when he woke up, but I wanted to give his family some space, so I didn’t really see him. Is he awake now?”

“He is. He seems tired, but he’s awake.”

Sabrina quickly scans the hallway. “Is Jason with you?”

“Oh, no. I was out running errands and decided to drop off some flowers on a whim. We’ll come back and do a big visit later.”

“It’s sweet of you to stop by,” Sabrina says. There is something about the perkiness and positivity in her voice that makes Natalie want to throttle her.

“Well, Spencer’s practically family now.” She resists the urge to blurt out the news of her engagement, seeing as how they haven’t even told their families yet, but she does lift her hand to wipe something nonexistent from her eyelash.

Sabrina spots it right away. “Is that…?”

Natalie feigns shock and then realization. “Oh. Yeah. It is. It’s actually…” She lowers her voice. “Jason only proposed last night. We haven’t told anyone yet. So if you wouldn’t mind keeping it to yourself…”

“Of course. It’s none of my business.”

“Thanks. I really have to go, but have a nice visit with Spencer. Can I ask you a little favor?”

Sabrina seems surprised. “Sure. What’s that?”

“Maybe don’t press too hard about his memory,” Natalie says, “or what happened the day of his fall. He has a lot to process, with learning the truth about Philip and everything. I wouldn’t want him to get worked up or panicked.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’m just going to see how he’s doing and chat.”

“Great. Enjoy your day.”

“You, too.”

Natalie hurriedly moves past her and down the corridor. Her heels click and clack against the floor as she goes. She covered that pretty well, she knows, but something about Sabrina going in there to chat with Spencer still makes her nervous. Spencer cannot remember that she was there when he fell down the stairs. He can’t.

Back in the corridor, Sabrina lingers in place. The sight of the engagement ring on Natalie’s finger, and the confirmation of the news, has sparked a strange, sinking feeling in her stomach. She doesn’t know why; like she told Natalie, it isn’t any of her business, and poor Jason has been through so much that he deserves happiness. Doing her best to ignore the feeling, she heads down the hall toward Spencer’s room.

—–

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Sonja says as she sets her now-empty mug back on the table. The tag from her teabag dangles from its string. “It sounds like your family has been through a lot.”

Tim nods somberly. “I miss my father every day. But we’re getting by.” He takes a final sip of his own tea and then, as if suddenly sobered up, shakes his head. “I’m sorry to ramble on like that. I didn’t mean to give you my family’s entire history.”

“I’m glad that you did,” she says. “It’s important to build a relationship of trust — I mean, if you were to bring me on as Spencer’s nurse–”

“About that: the job is all yours, if you want it.”

Her expression brightens immediately. “Of course I do! Your family sounds wonderful. It would be my honor to help you all out.”

“Great. If you wouldn’t mind sending over your references, just so I can check them — I know the agency vets those for us, but–”

Sonja holds up her palm. “I understand completely. I’ll e-mail them to you as soon as I’m back at my computer.”

“Thanks. And once they check out, we can talk about move-in dates, and I’ll bring you by the hospital to meet Spencer. He isn’t being released for a few days.”

“That sounds great.”

He stands and clears the mugs, and Sonja picks up her purse. After placing the mugs in the sink, Tim walks her to the door.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your son and helping you all out,” she says as she stands at the open door.

“It’ll be a big help to have you around. I’ll be in touch as soon as possible.”

They say their goodbyes, and Sonja heads down the stone path back to the street, where her car is parked. Tim closes the front door, relieved to have this aspect of Spencer’s recovery settled. The easier he can make this for his son, the better.

Outside, Sonja waits until she is settled into the driver’s seat of her car before removing her cell phone from her purse. She scrolls to her recent contacts and places a call. The answer on the other end comes swiftly.

“That went perfectly,” she says, eyeing the two-story house as she talks. “I got the job. Now tell me what’s next.”

END OF EPISODE 891

What is going on with Sonja?
Will Natalie get away with her deception?
Is Sarah’s secret safe from Matt?
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