Previously…
– Molly and Conrad found themselves at odds over Jason’s custody suit.
– Diane visited her ailing father and, realizing he was having a lucid moment, asked him about “Therese.” Henry denied knowing the name, but Diane was certain that he was covering.
– Henry’s monitors went wild, and a short time later, the doctor informed Diane and her mother that Henry had suffered major cardiac arrest and died.

Natalie Bishop finishes pouring a stream of steaming-hot water into the mug on the granite countertop. As she is setting the kettle back on the burner of the high-end range, she hears footsteps ambling over the hardwood floors.

“Get enough sleep?” she cracks as she turns around with her cup of tea.

Spencer Ragan squints his eyes slightly against the sunlight spilling into the kitchen. His dark hair swirls around his head in wild waves.

“I had a long week of work,” he says, his throat still raspy from sleep. “It’s the weekend.”

“Well, your son has been up for a good three hours.”

Spencer’s head snaps wildly from one side to the other and back, as if sent flapping by a sudden slap.

“Where is he?” he asks.

“In there.” Natalie uses her free hand to point toward the large expanse of room behind Spencer, which serves as their family room. Sure enough, Spencer sees the toddler curled up in an oversized armchair, his attention fixed firmly upon an iPad that he is watching with Bose headphones over his ears.

“He seems pretty chill,” Spencer says with relief as he crosses to the stainless steel espresso machine built into a panel in the wall.

“He’s fine. But, you know, kids get up early.”

He clams up and presses a series of buttons on the espresso machine. As it whirs to life, he turns back to face his wife.

“Next one’s on me, then,” he says with an aggressively pleasant tone and expression, the kind of response he honed while away at ritzy boarding schools.

“Do you mean tomorrow, or when he decides he’s tired of the iPad in seven minutes?” Natalie questions.

Spencer lets out a huff as he watches the machine finish producing his drink. He carefully lifts the cup from beneath its spout and blows on the drink.

“Come knock on my door when he gets up, then,” he tells her.

“You should know to get up,” she spits back. 

“Oh my god. Now I’m supposed to be psychic?” 

Before Natalie can respond to him, her iPhone begins vibrating insistently on top of the island. She glances at it but stiffens when she sees the name on the screen.

“What?” Spencer asks, seeing her reaction.

She shoots him an inscrutable look and then quickly picks up the phone.

“Diane?” she says. “What’s up?”

But she knows before she even hears her sister’s words come through the line. She just knows. Her stomach sinks, and her limbs tingle as the horrible news rushes through her body like an infusion of poison.

“No,” Natalie says, half into the phone and half to herself. “It’s too soon. It’s too soon.”

Spencer’s face falls as it dawns on him what Diane has called to report.

“Are you sure?” Natalie lets out a sob. “Daddy… He can’t be…” A shriek bulldozes the rest of her attempt to speak.

Arms by his sides, Spencer stands there, watching grief overtake Natalie as his own body stiffens with shock at the absolute rawness of what is happening.

The waiting area outside the Intensive Care Unit feels utterly lifeless when Diane Bishop returns to it. The air seems stale and stagnant; everyone appears to be moving in lethargic slow-motion, especially for a place whose very heartbeat is normally so busy, so insistent. She wonders if she is simply seeing it through different eyes now that her father has passed.

“Natalie knows,” Diane says as she approaches her mother, who sits uncomfortably in one of the stiff chairs. “She’ll be here as soon as she can.”

Claudia Bishop wipes her nose with a balled-up tissue as she looks up. “Thank you.”

Now that the initial burst of emotion is over, Diane is all too aware of the familiar tension between herself and her mother. It is as if, no matter how close they might physically be, there is somehow an icy bridge spanning the space that divides them them, an uncrossable obstacle that cannot be thawed.

Uneasily, she takes a seat as well, leaving a single chair between them.

“I’m very sorry,” Diane says.

“Sorry?” Claudia’s head snaps toward her. “He is — was — your father, Diane. Not some stranger.”

Immediately, a white-hot ball of anger ignites in Diane’s chest. It takes every ounce of strength she can muster to keep it from exploding out of her.

“I’m only saying, I’m sorry you have to go through this,” she says. “Regardless of the issues we’ve all had, I know how much you love him.”

Claudia sniffles again and purses her lips. “Thank you.”

They sit in painful silence for a few more torturous seconds.

“I wish he could have held on for another hour,” Claudia says. “So that I could have been able to see him and say goodbye.”

“You still wouldn’t have known what was about to happen.”

“I might have.”

Without even glancing toward her mother, Diane can feel the sharp look that is being cast her way.

“What were his last words?” Claudia asks. “Was he talking to you before… before it happened?”

Diane’s entire body tenses. She recalls all too well how conflicted she felt about grilling Henry about Therese, how he denied recognizing the name, and how she was pressing him when the machines in his room began to sound.

“We were talking.” Diane swallows the lump in her throat. “Not really about anything. He was pretty clear, though — he knew who he was. He said he was happy to see me.”

“That’s good.” Claudia works the tissue in her hand. “Yes, it’s good that he had someone there.”

Diane nods, merely wanting to move past the topic.

“Why don’t you go in and see him?” she suggests. “They’ll have to move him out of the room soon.”

Claudia’s eyes, rimmed with smudged makeup, flare open. She draws a long, slow breath in through her nose.

“Yes, I suppose I should do that.” She stands, seeming flustered by even this simple act. “Will you send your sister in whenever she gets here?”

“Yeah. Go have some time with him, though. I’m going to call Samantha.”

“Okay.” She starts to move and then stops mid-step. “Diane?”

Diane looks up from her phone, on which she has begun to pull up her own daughter’s contact information.

“I’m sorry for your loss, too,” Claudia says, and before Diane can even process this surprisingly compassionate statement, Claudia disappears through the double doors that lead to the patient rooms.

Diane hesitates, her thumb perched over the call button on her phone’s screen, as she considers the fact that her father is really, truly gone.

—–

“Sorry for coming over so early,” Molly Taylor tells her brother as she sits down on one of the matching square-armed, oatmeal-colored loveseats in his living room. “I left Conrad’s in such a hurry, and then I wasn’t in the mood to go to my Pilates class…”

“You brought these, so you definitely don’t have to apologize,” Jason Fisher says as he places a serving plate containing half-a-dozen fresh muffins. “Better than whatever I would’ve put together for lunch.”

“Then brunch it is,” Molly says with a grateful smile.

“Sounds like that was some fight you and Conrad had,” he responds after a moment of quiet.

With her hand lingering over a blueberry muffin, Molly pauses. “I can’t believe he would side with Natalie, after every terrible thing that miserable woman has done. He should know better than anyone!”

“Doesn’t sound like dealing with her has been a picnic for him,” Jason says. “During or after their marriage.”

“It hasn’t. That’s why makes it even worse. I just keep thinking… why does he have such a soft spot for her? Does he still have some feelings for her?”

“No. Molly, there’s no way. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?”

She finally grabs the blueberry muffin and places it on her plate.

“Conrad is not hung up on Natalie,” Jason says. “Even I know that. He’s talking as a lawyer–”

“He should be talking as my boyfriend — and as someone familiar with all the tricks she’s pulled.”

As Molly lets out a loud sigh, Jason reaches for a banana-nut muffin.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of,” he says.

“What?”

“That going through with this — petitioning for custody — would cause all these problems for everyone else and pit you guys against one another.”

“Maybe it was inevitable. But you had to do it. For Peter and for yourself.” Molly uses an exquisitely manicured pink fingernail to peel the wrapper from her muffin. “I’m just sorry Conrad can’t see the forest for the trees here.”

“Molly, I don’t want this to be trouble for you two. You’re a good match. Conrad’s a good guy.”

“I know he is,” she admits, her shoulders falling. “But if he’s going to support his crazy ex-wife over my family… then I don’t know what kind of future we could possibly have.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Samantha Fisher says with a loud sigh. “I’m really sorry.”

The young woman wipes a stray tear from her eye as she sits down on the vintage leather armchair. She and Diane say their goodbyes over the phone, and Samantha just sinks back into the chair. All around her, Cassie’s Coffee House is bubbling with the chatter and joy of a weekend day, but Samantha has had the wind knocked out of her.

She holds the coffee that she just purchased in her lap. She had intended to grab it and head out to take care of some errands, but now she doesn’t feel as if she can do anything. Her eyes are still misty when she hears her name.

“Sam. You okay?”

With a start, Samantha lifts her head and sees Tempest Banks a few feet away.

“What’s wrong?” Tempest asks.

Again Samantha wipes her eyes. “It’s my grandpa. My mom just called. He…”

Tempest dips her head with reverent understanding.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Thanks.” Samantha clutches her coffee cup between two hands. “It’s weird. I didn’t know him that well, but…”

“But he’s still your grandpa.”

“Yeah. Knowing he isn’t out there anymore…”

“I get it,” Tempest tells her. “When my mom died — well, you know things weren’t too great between us, but it was still this big, you know, this big sense of loss.”

“Like you’ve lost possibilities. Or history. Or, I don’t know.”

“Nah, that’s it exactly.”

The two women sit uneasily, the noise of the coffee shop filling the space between them.

“Sam, do you need anything? I’m really sorry,” Tempest says.

“I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

Samantha fixes a brave smile on her face. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your mom at?” Tempest asks.

“The hospital, with my grandma. My aunt is going there, too. I guess I should.”

“I’d give you a ride, but I took the bus here,” Tempest says. “But if I had my nonexistent car…”

“I’d definitely take a nonexistent ride,” Samantha responds. “Thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Samantha gives herself another few seconds and then stands up.

“Okay, I can do this,” she says.

“Hell yeah, you can. And if you need anything, hit me up, okay?” Tempest holds up her phone. “I’m only one call away. Always.”

Staring into her ex’s eyes, Samantha knows that much is true.

“Thanks, Tempest,” she says. “I really appreciate that.”

—–

Natalie braces against the kitchen island, her tea forgotten.

“He can’t be gone,” she says. “I never even got to say goodbye.”

“I’m– I am so sorry,” Spencer says. “You have my condolences.”

She looks up at him with a face swirling with anger, disbelief, and a thousand other warring emotions.

“Condolences? Like you’re some acquaintance from Bree’s school?”

Spencer takes her aggression like a shot to the chest. “What do you want me to say?”

Natalie’s mouth flaps open and shut several times.

“I don’t know!” she shouts. “My father just died, and–” Her gaze shoots over toward the other room, where Peter is still watching a show on the iPad, blissfully unaware.

“I can’t lose him,” Natalie chokes out. “They can’t take my son away.”

Spencer regards the lounging toddler, snuggled in his chair, with concern.

“Where do you need to go?” he asks.

“The hospital, I guess. Diane and my mom are there.” She exhales loudly. “I need to tell Bree…”

“One thing at a time. I’m going to call you a car to take you to the hospital. I’ve got Peter, okay? Don’t worry about him.”

Natalie nods slowly.

Spencer takes his phone from his pocket. “Go get ready. I’ll get you a car.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She heads for the hallway but then stops. “They can’t take him away from me. From us. They can’t.”

He meets her eyes.

“They won’t,” Spencer says. “I promise.”

Natalie bites her lower lip and, with one last, lingering look at her son, moves for the stairs.

Suddenly Peter looks up and glances around. He removes his headphones when he sees Spencer standing there.

“Where’s Mommy?” the boy asks.

“She’s upstairs,” Spencer says. “Everything’s fine. You keep watching your show, okay?”

With not a care in the world, Peter puts his headphones back on.

Spencer folds his arms. “No one is taking you away. No one.”

END OF EPISODE 968

Will Henry’s death have an effect on the custody suit?
Is Samantha ready to reconnect with Tempest?
Is Molly being too harsh about Conrad?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

Next Episode