Previously…
– Tori learned that she is pregnant but kept the news to herself.
– Jason called off his wedding to Natalie after Spencer’s memory returned, allowing him to confirm that he is Peter’s father and that Natalie was present when he fell down the stairs.
– Alex and Trevor offered to let Natalie and Peter spend the night at their house in order to keep an eye on her.

The arrival of dawn is a relief to Jason Fisher. He has forced himself to lie in bed for hours — endless hours in the dark that stretched on and on, torturing him with shadowy scenarios of the days and weeks to come. When he finally spies light through the bedroom curtains, he is all too happy to climb out of bed and try to re-establish a connection with reality.

But even reality is different now. He makes his way out of the master bedroom of his home and past Sophie’s room. A peek through the cracked door confirms that she is still sleeping soundly. On the other side of the hallway is a closed door, one that he wasn’t able to bring himself to open last night. But now he has no choice. Some force compels him to do it.

Peter’s room looks the same as ever: the navy-and-white color scheme, the wooden letters on the wall spelling out his name, the crib that they have so recently been debating trading in for a toddler bed. With cautious steps, Jason makes his way over to it, and when he peers over the edge, he nearly wonders if he will see his son asleep, the same as every morning.

But Peter is not there.

His hands shaking, Jason picks up the small, brown stuffed dog that is Peter’s constant companion. He asked several times if he could bring it to the wedding yesterday, but Jason and Natalie convinced him that it would be safest if Doggie stayed home, so that he wouldn’t be lost. It breaks his heart to think about his son having to spend the night without his favorite stuffed animal.

His son.

He isn’t my son, Jason’s mind says, unfurling the message no matter how much Jason doesn’t want it to be true.

He isn’t my son.

The events of yesterday’s almost-wedding spiral through his head again, just as they have been doing all night. It all still seems so absurd that he can’t quite grasp that it is real. Natalie slept with his nephew. Spencer is really Peter’s father. Natalie has been scheming and lying to hide the truth for over two years, maybe going so far as to push Spencer down the stairs to keep him from revealing it.

Absurd.

But it isn’t. This is his new reality.

He sets down Doggie in the crib, checks on Sophie again, and makes his way downstairs. He makes a pot of coffee, just as he would on any other morning, and waits in a chair at the breakfast nook as it brews. He and Natalie purposely didn’t make any big plans for today — no luxurious honeymoon, no lavish brunch. All he wanted to do was wake up in their home with their kids, grateful for the celebration they were able to have. Instead, he has to face this.

Desperate to avoid his thoughts, he gets up and opens the front door, where he finds the newspaper waiting. He brings it inside and unfolds it as the coffeemaker finishes its work. Once he fixes himself a cup, he attempts to read the news, but his attention leaps from one article to another, unable to latch on or focus in any useful way.

When the doorbell rings, his heart jumps into his throat. He fully expected Natalie to come around seeking forgiveness or a fresh start today, but he didn’t think it would be so early. But if it’s her, she’ll have Peter with her, and he finds himself rushing back to the door to see them.

His hopes fall the moment he opens the door.

“Hey,” he says to his mother, who is practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“I’m sorry for coming so early, but I wanted to see how you and Sophie were doing,” Paula says as she comes into the house and sweeps him into a hug. “Did you sleep?” 

“Not really,” he admits as he closes and locks the door. “Coffee?”

“I’ll have a cup. Sure.”

She follows him into the kitchen, where he pours her a steaming mug full of coffee with a dash of creamer.

“How are you?” Paula asks. “I’m so sorry you had to go through any of that yesterday.”

“I don’t know. Weird. Confused. Hoping it’s all a nightmare.” He passes her the coffee. “But I know it’s not, especially in the light of day.”

“I hardly believe it myself. But that sweet boy loves you and knows that you love him. Remember that.”

“Does it even matter now?” he says with a shrug. “He isn’t my son.”

Paula sips her coffee thoughtfully.

“Mom, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” Jason says. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to my son.”

—–

Natalie Bishop stays in bed for as long as she can possibly stand. She studies every aspect of the spare room: the stripes on the duvet cover, the minute details of the aerial beach photography on the walls, the acute organization of everything on Alex’s desk against the opposite wall. Still, none of it provides more than a seconds-long distraction from the disastrous events of yesterday and the current state of her life. Try as she might have during the long, sleepless hours of the night, she still hasn’t figured out how to convince Jason to take her back.

Finally, when she can take it no longer, she quietly slides out of the bed, taking care not to wake her son, who is sleeping soundly beside her. She zips up the heathered gray hoodie that she wore to the winery yesterday before changing into her wedding dress. Nevertheless, a chill goes through her as she carefully opens the door and hears Alex and Trevor out in the kitchen. She doesn’t know that she will ever be ready for this.

She finds the two men milling around the kitchen, with Chase in a high-chair picking up individual pieces of cereal from the tray in front of him. Though the baby happily keeps eating, both his fathers freeze when they spot Natalie.

“Hi,” she says stiffly. “Peter is still asleep, but as soon as he gets up, we’ll…” She points her thumb over her shoulder.

“There’s no rush,” Alex says. “Coffee?”

“Um. Sure.” She remains standing in the doorway as he pours her a cup and brings it over.

“Thank you,” she says before taking a sip and letting it warm her body. She notes the cautious way that Trevor is still eyeing her, but at least they aren’t running her out of the house with flaming pitchforks.

“I just want you both to know how grateful I am for you letting us stay here last night,” she says.

“That was for Jason, not for you,” Trevor says.

She does her best to take that in stride and breathes in the enticing aroma of the coffee. “I know. But it was really kind of you. I also want you to know how sorry I am for what happened. I’ve come to think of both of you as friends.”

“We thought the same,” Alex says, “but what you’ve done to Jason–”

“This situation spiraled out of control,” she admits. “I’ve never wanted to hurt Jason, or deceive him, or anything. What happened between Spencer and me was a really weird coincidence–”

“But lying to everyone wasn’t a coincidence,” Trevor interrupts. “Switching a paternity test wasn’t a coincidence. Leaving Spencer there to die wasn’t a coincidence.” He spits the last word at her as if it is actual venom. 

“All I wanted was my family,” Natalie says sadly. “I made some bad choices, but it’s all been for my kids–”

Trevor holds up a hand to stop her. “You aren’t going to convince us, Natalie. So stop trying.”

Alex stands by his husband’s side, and although his tone is softer, the words are just as impenetrable. “This isn’t a court of appeals. We don’t wish anything bad for you, but we aren’t going to run to Jason and tell him to take you back.”

She lets out a frustrated grunt and sets down her cup on the table a little too hard, causing Chase to look up from his cereal with alarm.

“Thanks for the barely hospitable hospitality,” she says, “but it’s time for my son and me to go.”

“Where are you going to go?” Alex asks.

“You just said it yourself: that’s not any of your business.” With an exaggerated shrug, she heads back toward the bedroom to collect Peter.

—–

Tim Fisher is fixing himself a bowl of cereal when he hears his phone vibrate on the kitchen table. Leaving the cereal box and milk on the counter, he crosses the room to check the alert, ready to leap into action if his brother needs anything. But it isn’t Jason messaging him; it is Sonja Kahele. Tim sighs and reads the text message — another offer to come over and help in whatever way she can — before he sets down the phone without replying.

The problem is that he simply isn’t sure what to say. He knows that Sonja only read the DNA results aloud at the wedding because of Loretta Ragan’s threats, but after seeing how devastated Jason was and how Spencer’s life has been upended, it is difficult for him not to harbor some resentment toward Sonja. He knows that it could be irrational, but acknowledging that doesn’t make the feeling go away. And he keeps thinking that if she had only come to him when Loretta approached her instead of keeping it quiet…

He is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps in the foyer and the front door being unlocked. He hurries out to find Spencer, already fully dressed, opening the door.

“Where are you off to this early?” Tim asks, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

Spencer turns around with surprise. “Oh. I set up a meeting with a realtor.”

“A realtor? This quickly?”

“I need to find a place of my own,” Spencer says. “I appreciate you letting me stay here while I recovered, but–”

“You’re my son. Of course I wanted you here.”

Spencer nods, his lips held tight, and Tim wonders yet again if the return of Spencer’s memory means that the relationship they have developed might change.

“I know,” Spencer finally replies. “And it’s been great. Really. But it’s important for me to have my own place now.”

“You really don’t have to–” But Tim stops himself, suddenly understanding. “Because of Peter.”

“Yeah. I need to look like I can be a dad.”

“So you’ve decided you’re going after custody?” Tim asks.

“What? You don’t think I should?”

“I didn’t say that. At all. You just have a lot hitting you all at once. Getting your memory back alone must be a lot to process — never mind finding out that you have a son.”

“It is,” Spencer says, “but sitting around isn’t going to do any good. And I already had a feeling about this. That’s why I made Natalie get the second test done. If I hadn’t gone down those stairs–”

“I just want you to know that you’re welcome here,” Tim tells him, “and so is Peter. Always. But there’s something else I think you should do.”

“What’s that?”

“Sit down with Jason. Talk to him, man-to-man. See where you both stand.”

Spencer frowns. “I feel bad for Jason. I do. He’s a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve any of this. But that doesn’t change what the test results say.”

“No. But for all intents and purposes, he’s Peter’s father.”

“I am.”

“Peter doesn’t understand DNA,” Tim says. “He knows Jason as his father. You need to take that into consideration.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t!”

“Okay, then.” Tim pauses, hoping the tension between them will dissipate given a few seconds, like boiling water suddenly taken off the stove. “This is going to be a tricky process for everyone. I want you to know that you have an entire family here to support you and help out.”

“I know. Thanks,” Spencer says, though there is an all-too-familiar jagged edge to his voice. “I shouldn’t be late for this appointment. I’ll see you later.”

“Good luck,” Tim says, but Spencer is already outside and closing the door behind himself. Tim listens to the sound of the car starting outside.

He returns to the kitchen, with his head even more clogged up and without any greater sense of how he should respond to Sonja.

—–

In the living room of her cousin’s apartment, Tori Gray does her best to be quiet as she folds up the pull-out sofa. She feels as if she needs another ten hours of sleep, but her brain refused to oblige. She has been thinking all night about yesterday’s discovery that she is pregnant — which somehow seems like it happened weeks ago, thanks to everything else that happened at her Uncle Jason’s wedding later in the day.

She knows that, if she keeps this baby, she can’t continue sleeping on a pull-out bed. She would have so much to think about, and do, and change. Quickly the thoughts begin to overwhelm her, and she begins folding up her blanket in an effort to occupy her mind.

“Oh, you’re up already,” Travis Fisher says as he emerges from the hallway in gym shorts and a cutoff t-shirt. “I thought everyone would sleep til noon after that fiasco.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Tori says. “Spencer’s a dad?”

Travis grimaces. “Spencer and Natalie banged. How weird is that?”  

“Sooooo weird.” Tori places the folded blanket on the arm of the couch.

“And my mom and dad are grandparents,” Travis says with wonder. “That’s nuts. Like they had no warning, and then– bam.”

“Your grandma is a great-grandma,” Landon Esco says from the hallway, where he has just appeared in a set of blue pajamas.

Travis laughs and shakes his head. “I still can’t believe you put on actual pajamas.”

“Only on nights where I really want to treat myself,” Landon replies as he moves toward the galley kitchen. “A bubble bath, clean sheets, a nice candle…”

“You are so weird,” Travis says.

“If self-care is weird, then I don’t wanna be normal.” Landon opens an upper cupboard and digs around for something.

“I think we could all use some self-care after yesterday,” Tori comments. “That was insane.”

“I can’t decide if I’m relieved or mad that I didn’t get to go,” Landon says. “PopTart, anyone?”

Tori stiffens, preparing for the wave of nausea that hit her yesterday, but the mention of PopTarts doesn’t seem to do it today.

“I’m good, but thanks,” she says as she picks up the pillows to stack them.

“Throw one in for me,” Travis says. “Thanks.”

The sound of Landon unwrapping the PopTarts and crumpling the wrapper fills the air for a few seconds.

“Man,” he says, “I can’t believe Spencer is a dad. Like, can you imagine having a kid right now?” 

Travis wags his head vigorously from side to side. “No way.”

Tori remains quiet and suddenly feels her stomach turn over. Her hand goes instinctively to it, but she reminds herself to pull it back. She doesn’t need them guessing what is going on. Definitely not right now.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower,” she says. “I need to get my day started.”

“Holler if you want a PopTart after all!” Landon says as she retreats to the bathroom.

Once in there, she closes and locks the door, turns on the shower faucet, and simply stands still. She stares at her reflection in the mirror and attempts to catch her breath. The urge to throw up has passed, but she still feels unsettled and uneasy. Nothing about her appearance in the mirror is any different than it was the day before yesterday, and yet… she can see the stress in her eyes, maybe even a slight weight gain in her face already?

Now she allows her hand to rest on her stomach. It is ever-so-slightly rounded, the same as if she spent a weekend eating junk food or missed several days at the gym, but it is still tough to believe that there is a child growing in there.

“Like, can you imagine having a kid right now?”

Landon’s voice plays over and over in her head. She can’t, not even a little bit, and yet that’s exactly what is happening.

“You need to figure this out now,” she tells her reflection as the sound of the pounding shower water echoes through the bathroom. 

—–

Paula gazes at Jason over the rim of her coffee mug.

“You don’t have to say goodbye to Peter,” she says gently.

“But I do,” Jason fires back. “He isn’t my son.” It pains him to say it, but a part of him hopes that it will be like yanking off a Band-aid: if he keeps tugging and grits his teeth through the worst of it, it will be over sooner.

“He’s going to be in your life regardless.”

“Maybe. But it’ll be different. Travis and Samantha and Tori were all in my life, but it wasn’t like they were my kids. And I didn’t have to raise any of them for two years before giving them up.” 

“You don’t know how this is going to play out yet,” Paula says. “There are so many unanswered questions and so many possibilities.”

“Spencer lost a lot of time with Peter, too,” he adds. “I can’t imagine he won’t want to make up for that.”

“It doesn’t mean he’s going to cut you out entirely.”

“I don’t know what he’s going to do. That’s the point.”

“Peter might not be my grandson,” she declares, “but he’s my great-grandson, and he is going to be a part of this family. Just like Spencer is. We will all figure out how to make this work.”

Jason lets out a groan. “And I don’t even know where being on the birth certificate gets me. All it’ll take is one DNA test and that doesn’t count.”

“Jason, honey. You need to stop spiraling.”

“What I need to do is find a really good family law attorney,” he says. “Maybe Conrad can refer me to someone.”

“Attorney?”

“I need to understand my rights,” he says, “and what I should be doing from now on.”

“I’m sure we can sort this out without going into a courtroom,” Paula says, a nervous tinge to her voice.

“Then you clearly haven’t met Natalie. I’ve seen how she acts toward people who cut her off in traffic. If I refuse to get back together with her and Peter isn’t actually my son? All bets are off.” 

“Daddy?” a voice calls from upstairs. “Where are you?”

“I’m downstairs, Soph,” Jason answers. He looks back to his mother. “Here we go.”

“We are going to work this all out,” Paula says as she picks up her coffee again. “I don’t care who Natalie thinks she is. She won’t get away with any funny business from now on.”

—–

Alex tails Natalie out to the hallway, while Trevor moves to the kitchen doorway, where he can keep one eye on Chase.

“Wait,” Alex says. “Don’t do anything rash, Natalie.”

She spins around. “Rash? I’m not going to flee to Europe or something.”

Alex lifts an eyebrow in response.

“I’m just saying,” Alex tells her, “Jason has legal rights to Peter. And once Spencer proves paternity, he will, too.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” She folds her arms. “It keeps slipping my mind.”

“Just remember you don’t have a lot of leverage here,” Trevor pipes in.

“I’m his mother! Nothing is going to change that.”

“No, but after what you’ve done, that doesn’t guarantee much,” Trevor says.

Alex turns slightly to give his husband an exasperated look before refocusing on Natalie.

“The point is, playing by the rules from now on is going to do you a world of good,” Alex says. “You’re welcome to stay here for a while.”

“So you two can judge me? Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Where are you going to go, then?” Alex asks.

“I don’t know,” she says. “To my family. We’ll figure something out.”

“Just don’t try anything crazy,” Trevor warns her.

“Try minding your own business,” Natalie says. “I’ll text Jason that I’m taking Peter to my parents’ hotel for the time being.”

“I’m sure he’ll want to come see him,” Alex says.

“And I won’t stop him. Now can I go, or do you need to fit me for my ankle bracelet?”

She quickly moves back to the spare room and closes the door. Alex looks to Trevor, whose face is screwed up with distrust.

“This is gonna be a mess for all of them, isn’t it?” Trevor says.

Alex lets out a long, slow breath. “I’d bet on it.”

END OF EPISODE 938

What is Natalie’s next move going to be?
Should Jason give up rights to Peter?
Who should Tori tell about her pregnancy?
Talk about it all in the comments below!

Next Episode