Previously…
– Danielle received a phone call with some very exciting news.
– Molly admitted to having feelings for Conrad but being uncertain about how to proceed.
– After a tense Christmas encounter with her own parents, Diane showed up at Tim’s house to see Samantha.

 

In the driveway of her father’s house, the December chill nips at Samantha Fisher’s skin through her cotton sweater. She folds her arms against it as she stares at her mother.

“Can we please talk?” Diane Bishop asks.

“It’s Christmas. I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight, either.” Diane’s stilettos clack against the pavement as she takes a step closer, but the several-foot chasm between them still seems impossible. “I was just with my parents. The way things are between my mother and me… Sam, it would break my heart if things between us were to wind up that way.”

Samantha hesitates, but Diane seems to know what she is thinking and scrambles to beat her to the draw:

“And, yes, I know this isn’t about how I feel. But I know how I feel as the daughter of someone who I’ve never been close with or felt safe with. I don’t want that for you.”

“I have Dad.”

She knows that it’s a sucker punch, and she watches it blast Diane. For a fleeting moment, it feels so good to see that — but only for a fleeting moment. It still doesn’t make her feel better about any of this. It still doesn’t make that chasm between them feel like a relief.

Diane recovers enough to say, “I know you do, and I’m really grateful for that.”

Samantha shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She glances at the house across the street, where colorful lights line the garage and the shrubbery despite it being the middle of the day.

“I’m never going to forgive myself for what I did to your father,” Diane continues. “It isn’t even possible. And now, knowing that I hurt you, too… I want to do whatever I can to make this right. Or less terrible, at least. I’ve started donating to RAINN — it’s–”

“That organization for sexual assault victims, right?”

“Right. Yeah. Our morning show is partnering with them in the new year, too. I got in touch and put things in motion. I can’t take back what I did, but I can try and make a difference for other people.”

“That’s good.” Samantha sighs. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I guess nothing. But you’re listening, and that’s the best Christmas gift you could give me.” Diane hikes up her purse on her shoulder as she searches for her next words. “How about this? You think about what you want to say to me, and I’ll reach out, and we’ll set a time to sit down and have a conversation in the new year.”

Although her first instinct is to refuse and march back into the house, Samantha feels it passing quickly, like wisps of smoke from a fire just blown out.

“We could do that,” she says.

“Good. Thank you.” Diane stands there for a moment, seeming uncharacteristically uncertain of her own movements, and Samantha thinks that she is going to reach out. Instead, she turns back toward the car. “Merry Christmas, Samantha.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Samantha says as she watches Diane return to her Mercedes.

She hurries back to the house before Diane drives away.

—–

“How’s that roast coming along?”

Brent Taylor enters the kitchen of his house and leans against one of the counters. Claire Fisherr stoops down and presses the button to turn on the oven light.

“Should be about another 40 minutes or so,” she tells him. They both peek in on the slab of beef that has become browned and crusted with herbs and spices.

“Thank you for overseeing dinner,” he says as they stand back up. “I’m not exactly a whiz at this stuff.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She sets a dishtowel down beside the stove. “Besides, it’s fun to be doing this. Co-hosting a holiday dinner.”

Brent smiles at her. “I agree.”

He plants a tender kiss on her lips. They savor the moment, the smells of Christmas dinner and the distant sounds of Christmas music surrounding them, before Brent’s sister enters from the dining room.

“I just spoke with Dad,” Danielle says. “Annie woke up from her nap a few minutes ago. Josh and Lauren are going to get her ready, and then they’ll leave the hotel to head here.”

“That’s great,” Claire says. “We’ll be putting the finishing touches on dinner by then.”

“Speaking of which…” Brent steps out of the kitchen and into the dining room, directing his voice toward the staircase. “Boys! Time to put away the video games and come down here! The table needs to be set!”

Moans and groans sound from the twins’ room upstairs.

“Everyone is going to be here soon!” Brent adds.

Moments later, footsteps creak along the floorboards of the staircase.

“I’m going to go move my car out of the driveway so they can park there,” Brent tells the women. “It’ll be easier for them with all of Annie’s stuff.”

He exits the house, and Danielle looks to Claire.

“Can I help with anything?” she asks.

“You know what? You could start making the salad,” Claire says. “It won’t be out for too long if you make it now. And you make that balsamic dressing so well.”

“Great. Happy to help.”

Danielle opens the refrigerator to take out what she needs, as Caleb and Christian descend upon the kitchen in a cacophony of thumping footsteps and other noises.

“I just saw another post about you on Instagram,” Christian says to Danielle as they bustle in. “Just wait ’til the new song gets released.”

Pausing by the open fridge, Danielle shakes her head. “I still can’t believe any of this is happening.”

“DJ Khaled sampling your song is huge,” Caleb says. “So dope.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you’ll get to, like, go to award shows,” his twin says. “You’ll be slaying.”

“Ugh.” Caleb groans and rolls his eyes. “That’s so gay.”

“Hey,” Claire says instinctively. “That’s not the way we use that word, Caleb.”

The teenager scowls back at her. Danielle folds her arms, ready to jump in but letting Claire take the reins.

“Tempest, Alex, and Trevor are sitting out in the living room,” Claire says. “How would they feel if they heard you saying that? How would your cousin Samantha feel?”

“Whatever,” the teenager mumbles.

“Not whatever–”

“Shut up, okay?” Caleb snaps. “You’re not my mom!”

—–

“It smells incredible in here,” Conrad Halston says as he sets his walker against the wall and removes his coat.

“Matt has been in the kitchen since we finished opening presents,” Paula Fisher says. “And Travis came by a bit ago to help. Though he was running late…” She glances over her shoulder and lowers her voice, a twinkle emerging in her eyes. “I think he and Rosie patched things up.”

“That’s great,” Molly Taylor says. “They’re really cute together.”

“They are.” Paula holds out her arms. “Here, let me hang your coats.”

“Nonsense,” Conrad says as he slings his coat over his right arm and takes Molly’s from her. “I insist.”

“Thank you,” Molly says. Paula takes her by the arm and leads her into the living room, as Conrad goes to the closet with the coats, leaving his walker behind. Helen and Don Chase sit on the sofa with glasses of wine, and Molly greets them before moving off with her mother.

“The two of you seem awfully close lately,” Paula says quietly to her daughter.

Molly looks over at Conrad, who is oblivious to their conversation. “We’re just friends, Mom. And he’s moving out soon. Look how far he’s come in his recovery.”

“He looks like he’s doing much better. But maybe that’s a good thing. Once he isn’t a guest in your house…”

Molly’s straight, raven hair wags around as she shakes her head. “Who even knows? He hasn’t given me any indication that he’d be interested.”

“Then maybe it’s time for you to give him a sign,” Paula says with a wink. “You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot.”

Molly purses her lips in thought, watching as Conrad walks back toward them on stiff but much-improved legs.

—–

Outside the house, Spencer Ragan swings his legs out of the car’s passenger side and waits as his father unfolds the wheelchair on the sidewalk.

“Sam, why don’t you go in and make sure the back door is unlocked so I can bring Spencer around?” Tim suggests.

“I’ll do it right away,” Samantha, now wearing a pair of black slacks and a red blouse beneath her winter coat, says before moving up the front steps of the Fisher home and going inside.

Tim is helping Spencer into the wheelchair when another car pulls up to the curb.

“Merry Christmas!” Natalie Bishop calls out as she gets out the driver’s side of the vehicle. “Jason is a few minutes behind with the girls.”

“Merry Christmas,” Tim responds, watching as an older man and woman exit the car.

“Tim, you’ve met my parents, haven’t you?”

“Yes, years ago.” Tim makes sure Spencer is settled into the chair before crossing around to the other side of the car. “It’s good to see you both. Merry Christmas.”

He shakes hands with Henry and Claudia Bishop as Natalie takes baby Peter out of his carseat. Spencer watches the baby intently, feeling a strange sensation swirling in his head.

“This is my son, Spencer,” Tim tells the Bishops. “Samantha’s brother.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Henry says as he extends his hand to Spencer.

But Spencer cannot pull his gaze off Natalie and Peter. Suddenly, Natalie’s face, twisted in anguish, flashes across his mind’s eye.

“What do you want from me, Spencer?”

She sounds so desperate, so pained. The vision consumes him, blocking out whatever is happening in reality. But as much as he strains, he cannot see where they are or what is going on beyond that.

“What do you want from me, Spencer?” she cries again in his head.

“Spencer?” Tim says, a note of urgency slicing into his voice. “Are you okay?”

The voice jerks Spencer back to reality. “Um, yeah. Sorry, I’m a little– I think I need some water.” He tries to refocus on the strangers in front of him. “Nice to meet you. Merry Christmas.”

“A pleasure,” Claudia Bishop says, shaking his hand after her husband does so. She looks up at the house. “Now this is a quaint place to spend Christmas, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s lovely,” Henry says, a bit sternly as they all begin to move toward the house. As Spencer wheels himself around the side to head toward the backyard, he glances back once more and sees Natalie watching him, her eyes narrowed.

—–

Caleb’s outburst sends even more of a freeze over the already icy tension in the kitchen.

“That’s enough,” Danielle intervenes. “Claire is right. That’s not the way ‘gay’ is used in this family.”

“Fine. Sorry. Okay?”

“Apologize to Claire for your tone,” Danielle says, all while offering Claire a reassuring look. “And to your brother.”

Caleb’s eyes linger on the tile floor. “Sorry, Christian. Sorry, Claire.”

“Thank you,” Claire says. Christian stands back, red-cheeked.

“What’s going on?” Brent asks as he appears back in the doorway, car keys in hand.

“Nothing,” Caleb says quickly.

“It’s handled,” Danielle says. “Boys, come out with me so we can set the table.” As she leads them back, she turns to Claire: “I’ll be back to do the salad in a few.”

“Thanks,” Claire says as she checks the mashed potatoes on the stove. She feels Brent easing up behind her.

“It didn’t seem like nothing that I walked in on,” he says.

“It wasn’t.” She stirs the potatoes quietly and then recovers them. After another moment of thought, she turns toward him and recounts what happened.

“Sorry if I overstepped my bounds,” she says. “I wouldn’t presume to speak for you or Molly. It’s a tricky balance.”

“I know it is. And it sounds like you handled it exactly right.” Brent presses his forehead against hers. “This is just the way it is dealing with blended families, I guess.”

Her eyes flicker up to meet his. “Family, eh?”

“I mean… that’s what we’re doing here, isn’t it? Sharing Christmas with our kids?”

“I guess it is.” She grins. “Family. I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” Brent kisses her forehead. “Me, too.”

—–

At the Fishers’, the house has begun to fill up, as Jason and Natalie enter with their brood. Sophie races right through the living room with her coat and boots still on.

“Where are you off to in such a rush?” Helen asks as her granddaughter.

“I want to see what snacks Grandma Paula has,” Sophie says.

Helen laughs. “Patience, darling. Come here and give me a Christmas hug.”

As Sophie obliges, Jason leads Henry and Claudia over. Don and Helen rise from the sofa.

“Henry and Claudia Bishop, these are Sophie’s grandparents, Helen and Don Chase,” he says. “Helen and Don, these are Natalie and Diane’s parents.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Helen says.

“Your granddaughter certainly is a… spirited little one,” Claudia comments as Helen helps Sophie out of her coat.

“She gets it from her grandmother,” Don says, before handshakes and Christmas greetings are exchanged.

Across the room, Conrad hands Molly a glass of white wine. He balances himself against the mantle.

“Is there someplace we could chat for a moment?” he asks.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. It’s more of… another Christmas present.”

Molly’s stomach flip-flops. “How about we go into the den?”

She leads the way, with Conrad’s slow, deliberate footsteps following her. They walk in silence until they make it to the empty den off the hallway.

“This sounds a little ominous,” Molly jokes, unable to suppress her nervousness.

“Nothing like that. I wanted to tell you earlier, but the kids were around, and then everyone was busy getting ready to leave the house…”

“Okay…” Every muscle in her body seems to tense up. She watches his face intently.

He draws a deep breath before saying, “I’ve found a place. To move into. It’s a townhouse — just off downtown, really.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s…” Suddenly she feels as if her brain is too full of cobwebs to process thought. “That’s great.”

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to have your space back,” he says, “but I want you to know how grateful I am for your hospitality. And your friendship.”

“It’s been nice having you.” She hesitates, trying to read his eyes to see if there is anything more there. “When, um, when do you move?”

“It’s mine on the 1st of the month.”

“Wow. That’s… that’s fast. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He studies her for a long moment, as if awaiting someone, but then he abruptly says, “Shall we rejoin the party?”

“Good idea.” She forces a smile. “Very good idea.”

—–

Some time later, the announcement for dinner is made, and the family and their guests move into the dining room, where the table has been extended to accommodate the holiday crowd. Paula takes a seat at the head of the long table.

“Before we dive into this wonderful meal — and thank you to Matt and Travis for their hard work in the kitchen today–”

Cheers and murmurs of gratitude interrupt her momentarily.

“I’d just like to thank each and every one of you for being here,” Paula continues. “This has been a difficult year for me personally, but knowing that I can rely on your love and support has gotten me through.”

Spencer reaches for his wine glass and, as he does, spots Natalie eyeing him. She averts her gaze quickly, but it is the same suspicious look that he noticed earlier.

Natalie immediately turns her attention down the table toward Paula, but her mind races. There is something very unsettling about the way Spencer has been looking at her today, something different from the innocence she has gotten from him since he awoke from his coma.

I’m not going to let you ruin things for me, she vows internally. Not after all the work I’ve done.

“Christmas is such a wonderful time, but it’s also so difficult to think of those who can’t be here with us,” Paula says. “My dear Bill, my son Ryan, Courtney… so many people who have been taken from us too soon.”

She allows for a somber moment of silence.

“But we are so lucky to be here, all together, celebrating life,” she finally goes on. “Let’s raise our glasses to another year gone by and another coming up. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Voices ring out as glasses are lifted and clinked together, the sounds of life and love filling the Fisher home.

“Merry Christmas!”

END OF EPISODE 906

Is Spencer beginning to remember his fall?
Will Diane and Samantha be able to reconcile?
Can Claire and Brent successfully blend families?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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