Previously…
– Natalie secretly employed Sonja to make sure that Spencer’s memory of his fall down the stairs — and the reason why he was arguing with Natalie — never emerges.
– Tim admitted to Spencer that they’d been at odds before Spencer’s coma and amnesia, but Spencer decides that he wants to move forward and not dwell on the past.
– Samantha met with Diane to try and patch things up, but Tempest came upon them, and the meeting devolved into a shouting match between Diane and Tempest.

“I should have gone with my first instinct and ordered that,” Claire Fisheradmits as she looks across the table at the burger and fries sitting before her son.

“Have some fries if you want,” Spencer Ragan tells her before picking up his burger and taking a substantial bite.

They sit in a booth against one wall of 322 Bar & Grill, which bustles with the sounds and scents of dinnertime.

Claire regards the robust chicken Cobb salad sitting in front of her.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” she says before reaching over for one of his crispy, shoestring fries. She savors the crunch and the saltiness as she bites into it. “Yum.”

“Have as many as you want.”

“Thanks.” Nevertheless, she picks up her fork to tuck into the salad. “It’s really good to see you, especially out of the house — and on your own.”

Spencer widens his eyes. “You have no idea how good it feels to be out again. I feel like a normal person.”

“I’m sure.” She thoughtfully chews a bite of her salad before continuing. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to bring this up, but… your dad told me that he spoke to you about what happened last year. Why you quit working at Vision.”

Nodding, Spencer casts his gaze down at his plate as he reaches for his beer.

“He and I are very much on the same page about it,” Claire says, “but I just want to tell you myself how sorry I am for that whole misunderstanding. Neither of us ever meant for you to think that we thought you were capable of– of the things Philip did. It was a really crazy time, and we came across a piece of evidence that made us want to prove that it wasn’t you.”

He is quiet as he sips the beer. Claire knows all too well how Spencer’s mood can swing from perfectly pleasant to hateful within seconds, and she braces for the jarring transition now.

“I get it,” he finally, surprising her with the measured tone of his voice. “I can’t actually remember finding out, but I understand why I was pissed. But hearing it now, the way Tim explained it, it’s like… of course you guys had a moment where you wondered.”

“We want you to know that it didn’t mean a thing beyond, ‘This is very weird and we hope it’s a coincidence.’ We weren’t convinced that you were secretly a psychopath. Nothing like that.”

“I know. And thanks, I guess. Did he tell you that I want to go back to work there once I’m recovered?”

She smiles. “He did. I love that idea. I’m glad you’ve changed your mind.”

“I’m seeing things from a different perspective now, I guess,” he says as he munches on a French fry. “I’m lucky I survived. I’m lucky I’m going to walk again. And I’m lucky to have people who took me in and took care of me.”

“That’s a very mature outlook to have. You actually sound a lot like Tim, if you don’t mind me saying so — but that’s a very good thing.”

“I know it is. He’s been great to me.” He drinks some more of his beer, a contemplative expression fixed on his face. “This is a good family. Not perfect, but good. I finally understand what a big deal that is, and I don’t need to do anything to ruin it.”

—–

Samantha Fisher’s hands strangle the steering wheel and her shoulders are nearly pressed up to her ears as she drives home. Her entire being feels like a coil of tension and anger, ready to explode, except that she has no outlet for it. She realizes that she is being rough with everything — setting the parking brake, closing the car door, jamming her keys into the front door of the house — and reminds herself to calm down before entering her father’s home.

When she does, she finds Sonja Kahele at the foot of the stairs, carrying a basket of laundry.

“Hi, Samantha,” she says. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Samantha lifts an eyebrow. “Fun?”

“Your dad said you had plans.”

“Oh, no. They weren’t social plans. At least not like that.” She unzips her coat and sighs. “But thanks for asking.”

“Of course.”

As she hangs her coat, Samantha can feel Sonja studying her.

“Everything all right?” Sonja asks.

“I guess. Yeah. I was supposed to meet with my mom, but…”

“I know things have been tense between the two of you.”

“To put it mildly.”

Sonja balances the laundry basket on her hip as she says, “I have no idea what it’s about, and of course it’s none of my business, but… take it from someone who’s watching her own mother slip away day by day: life really is short, and we only get so much time. If there’s any way to have a relationship, you should seize it.”

“Your mother has dementia, doesn’t she?” Samantha asks.

“Yes. It’s getting worse and worse.”

“I’m really sorry about that. It must be hard. And I understand your point. It’s just– things with my mom are very complicated.”

“Of course. I hope I didn’t speak out of turn,” Sonja says. “Anyway, I should go put this away. I hope things work out between you and your mom.”

“Thank you.”

“And regardless of what happens,” Sonja adds, pausing on the second step, “you have an incredible dad. You do know that, right?”

“I do,” Samantha says with a smile. “He’s the best.”

“He really is.”

With that, Sonja takes her laundry upstairs. Samantha slips off her shoes and heads for the kitchen, her mind still spinning.

—–

“Okay, homework is done and checked,” Jason Fisher announces as he rounds the corner into the dining room of his home.

“I’m not going to lie,” Natalie Bishop says as she looks up from the mess of magazines, flyers, and printouts on the table. “I’m not too upset that Bree is past the age where I had to check her homework.”

“I feel like I’m always going to have to check Sophie’s. And I can’t imagine Bree ever needing much in that department. She’s so self-reliant.” He takes in the materials all over the dining room table. “Did someone give you homework when I wasn’t looking?”

Natalie grins. “I wanted to get some wedding planning done, now that dinner’s over and Peter’s in bed.”

Jason pulls up a chair beside her. “So what are we looking at?”

“Well, the florist sent over some samples for the centerpieces, but he has such good taste that I’m not too worried, anyway.” She slides a few printed-out photos in front of him.

He nods in agreement. “These are great, yeah. I just want to make sure they aren’t so tall or wide that people can’t see across the tables. I hate that.”

“Noted.” She uses a pen to jot down that thought. “So you know how we were talking about having that watercolor artist do the invitations?”

“Yeah…”

“I had a brainstorm. What if we also had her do custom place cards and table numbers? That way everything matches.”

“Can’t we just have place cards printed?”

“Well, yeah. But it would be nice if they were special.”

“Okay,” he says with a shrug. “I see your point. The invitations are going to be nice.”

A smile crosses her lips. “Exactly. And I was also thinking, since the winery has that great, open lawn…”

“What about it?”

“We should use it to make a grand entrance. It’s so boring to just walk out of some back room. Let’s make it a moment.”

“What are you thinking?” he asks with a laugh. “Horses?”

Her flat expression is all the answer that he needs.

“You can’t seriously want to show up to our wedding on horseback,” Jason says.

“Well, maybe in a carriage. It’s dramatic!”

“What are we throwing, the royal wedding?”

“We deserve to have an incredible day,” Natalie says. “Something truly memorable.”

He shakes his head. “This is like that gala I hired you to plan back in the day. For charity, remember? You ran through the budget–”

“So this is all about money.”

“It isn’t just about money,” he says, “but we could stand to rein it in a little.”

“We have the money. If there’s one good thing that psycho Shannon Parish ever did for you, it was guarantee that.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to spend like we’re Scrooge McDuck with a vault of gold in the backyard!”

“Fine.” She starts piling up papers and magazines, annoyance radiating off her like cartoon waves. “We’ll do it your way.”

“I don’t want it ‘my way,’” he says. “I don’t even have a way. But I don’t understand why we need all this stuff. It’s just a wedding.”

Natalie’s eyes flare as her head snaps toward him. “‘Just a wedding’? You know what? Forget it.” She scrambles out of her chair and out of the room.

—–

When Spencer arrives home from dinner, he finds his sister in the kitchen, assembling a turkey sandwich.

“What’s up?” he says as he sets his crutches against the wall. “Are you the only one home?”

“Sonja’s upstairs folding laundry, and Dad is still at Grandma’s.”

He notices her food and double-checks the time. “You didn’t eat yet?”

“No. I had that thing with my mom.”

“Oh, yeah. How’d that go?”

She lets out a groan as she squeezes a zigzag of mustard onto the bread. “An absolute disaster.”

“Really? Why?” He hobbles over to the table and lowers him into a chair. “Just the same shit?”

“It was fine until Tempest showed up. Then all hell broke loose.”

“How’d she find out?”

“It was a coincidence that she came in to get a coffee while we were sitting there. But they started bickering and blaming each other, and it was like I wasn’t even there.”

She closes the sandwich and carries her plate over to join him at the table.

“Sorry,” Spencer says. “That sucks. It sounded like you wanted to give it a real go.”

“I did. While we were talking, I really felt like it could work out. It was normal. I thought maybe we could start out having lunch or dinner once a week, to catch up and ease into things…”

“You don’t think you can do that?”

Samantha hesitates as she begins eating her sandwich.

“Listen, I just came from having dinner with Claire,” Spencer continues. “You know how up-and-down things have been with us. But it feels really good to be in a place where we’re actually getting along. To not have all that rage. If you can find some way to do that with your mom…”

“Who are you, and what did you do with my brother?”

He shrugs. “Weird what a coma and almost being paralyzed will do to you.”

“That makes sense,” she says. “I know my mom is genuinely sorry for what happened. She’s actually taking positive steps to– she can’t fix it, but she can do good things to atone for it. But if she can’t look past her anger at Tempest and take full responsibility…”

“Yeah. Besides, after what she did to Tim, it’s not like you have to forgive her. That’s pretty bad. I guess it’s more like Loretta and me than Claire and me.”

Samantha nods as she takes another bite of her dinner.

In the living room, Sonja stands against the wall. She was coming for a glass of water when she heard the siblings talking, and she didn’t want to barge in on a private conversation between them. But what did Samantha’s mother do to Tim? How could it possibly compare to Loretta Ragan’s actions?

I have to find out, she thinks, mentally filing away the task before she clears her throat and moves into the kitchen.

—–

Jason lets out a heavy sigh before springing out of his own chair and tailing Natalie into the kitchen.

“All I mean,” he says, “is that we already live together. We have a son together. We’ve both been married before. Maybe we don’t need to go so over-the-top.”

Natalie folds her arms, and her lips jut out in a pout.

“What’s important to me is not the wedding,” Jason adds. “It’s the life that we’re going to have together. The life we’re already living. The wedding is just a formality.”

She is silent for another long moment before blurting out, “But the wedding is important to me!”

The force of her declaration blows him back a little. “Okay.”

“This is our one chance to show the whole world how much we mean to one another,” she says. “To show them that we did it. We found the real thing, we built a family… This is it.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t.”

The uneasy quiet continues to dangle between them.

“Can I be honest?” he asks.

Natalie’s hands plant on her hips. “What, that wasn’t honesty just now?”

“What I mean,” he says, pausing for a deep breath, “is that this whole big wedding thing… it kind of freaks me out.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“No! I mean– yes, I want to get married. No, that wasn’t what I meant. It’s just that, when I got married the first time… Courtney and I did the whole formal wedding deal. We labored over the details. We made it a huge event. And look how that ended.”

“Oh. Oh, god.” Natalie’s face instantly softens. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“I have a lot of  bad associations with wedding days,” Jason says. “When I have to think about that day… It triggers something in me.”

“I can see why.” She touches a hand to his chest. “We don’t have to talk about that, okay? Let’s focus on the future. Let’s make this a day for us. You’re right — it’s about the life we’re already building. If you don’t want the watercolors or the horses, so be it.”

She kisses him.

“I still want this to be the day you want,” Jason says. “The day of your dreams.”

“I know. It’ll be the day of my dreams simply because I’m marrying you. Okay?”

“Good.” His nervousness gives way to a smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Natalie says before kissing him again.

END OF EPISODE 911

Will Jason and Natalie’s differences be a problem?
What will Sonja do when she learns about Tim and Diane’s history?
What should Samantha do about her mother next?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

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