Previously…
– Jason brought Sabrina to the opening of Jimmy and Kathleen’s new bar, The Wild Lady.
– Instead of attending the bar opening as a couple, Molly told Conrad that she wanted to end things between them.
– Dejected that Rosie hadn’t shown up at The Wild Lady, Travis was surprised by a kiss from Elly.
As Lil Nas X and Billy Ray Cyrus’s “Old Town Road” continues to play throughout The Wild Lady, which is buzzing with the excitement and activity of its grand opening, Travis Fisher sits in a booth beside his ex-girlfriend. He picks up his beer and stares into it.

“I really thought we were going to have something big,” he says, consumed by thoughts of Rosie Jimenez. “And now I’m sitting here like some loser…”

Elly Vanderbilt cocks her head, causing her red hair to tumble to one side. “You are not a loser.”

“The only woman who’s even looked at me was just ordered out by the police.”

“Travis.” Elly forces him to make eye contact. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because.” She props her chin on top of her curled fist, studies him for a beat, and then leans toward him. Before Travis can even process what is happening, Elly’s lips touch his. It is both strange and familiar at the same time, and the nostalgia wraps around him, drawing him in. He finds himself sinking into the kiss, too.

They are both so consumed that they don’t notice the bar’s newest arrivals: Travis’s sister and cousin, their dates, and Rosie herself. The quintet stops short when they spot Travis and Elly.

Rosie stands there, mouth agape. Samantha turns toward her.

“That’s not…” But she trails off, unable to come up with any explanation other than exactly what they see before them.

“Well, this is awkward,” Tori mutters under her breath. Zane squeezes her arm, uncertain how else to react.

In the booth, Travis pulls back from Elly as his sense comes back to him. They stare at one another for a long moment.

“What was that?” he asks.

But Elly doesn’t respond, and when he turns to follow her gaze over his shoulder, he understands why. At first, he thinks he must be seeing things; he really didn’t think Rosie would turn up here tonight, as much as he hoped she would.

“I guess this was a mistake,” Rosie declares, and with that, she turns and hurries out of the bar.

“Travis, I’m sorry,” Elly says, but he is already scrambling out of the booth, forcing her to her feet as he pushes past her.

“Rosie! Wait!” he calls out as he rushes out the front door.

Jaq Pearson, who has been standing by Samantha’s side, turns to their date with a furrowed brow.

“What just happened?” they ask in utter confusion.

—–

In the center of the bar’s varnished wood floor, a small crowd has begun dancing. Jason Fisher laughs as he watches Sabrina Gage swing an imaginary lasso over her head and then throw it his way.

“Come on! I got you!” she yells over the music.

Still laughing, Jason reacts as if he has been caught, and as Sabrina pulls on the nonexistent rope, he inches closer toward her.

“I didn’t know you were such a dancer,” he says, smirking.

“Dancing is fun,” she says. “There’s no point being self-conscious when you’re doing it. You just do whatever the music tells you to do.”

“I like that.” He pauses as the current song ends and another starts up — this time, Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville.”

“So what kind of moves do you have for this one?” Jason asks.

“Probably more of the same,” Sabrina admits. “But I actually need to go to the ladies’ room for a minute. Is that okay?”

“You don’t have to ask permission! Go ahead. I’ll just be over here dancing terribly.”

She frowns. “Don’t pretend you have no rhythm, Mr. Figure Skater.”

As Sabrina nudges her way through the crowd to head toward the restrooms, Jason sips his club soda and checks the time on his cell phone. He knows that he should be winding down the night soon, as he has to be in court early for the hearing regarding Peter’s custody; a nervous pang hits his stomach as he contemplates what tomorrow might bring. That moment is brief, however, as his older brother sidles up next to him.

“Looks like you and Sabrina are having a lot of fun,” Tim comments.

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Yeah. Fun. She is. That’s it.”

“You sure about that?”

“Why are you ragging on me about this? I told you, we’re just friends.”

“Because you look like you’re enjoying being with her, and she’s a really nice person,” Tim says. “You deserve that, after… everything.”

“After Natalie ripped my life to hell, you mean.”

“Yes.” Tim drinks his beer. “You deserve to move on from all that. Have a new chapter.”

“Ohhhhh.” Jason tilts his head back as understanding dawns over him. “That’s what this is about.”

“What?”

“You pushing me to be with Sabrina. You want me to move on with my life–”

“Yeah. You’re my brother–”

“–because you want me to drop this custody suit,” Jason finishes. “You think that if I start dating Sabrina, or anyone else, and I’m happy, I’ll give up on the suit and leave Spencer and Natalie alone.”

Tim hesitates for just a tick, enough to confirm for Jason that his suspicions are correct.

“You’ve been through hell,” he says. “I want you to be happy.”

“Being Peter’s father makes me happy.”

Tim maintains a soft tone of voice, but he fires away nevertheless: “You aren’t Peter’s father.”

“I’m well aware of that. Thanks for the reminder.” Jason takes a step back, as if hit physically by the statement. “I was Peter’s dad for the first two years of his life. I can’t just forget that — and, what, let him live in that nuthouse?”

“He’s been with Spencer and Natalie for months, and he’s doing all right.”

“They’ve managed not to kill him. Great work! But there’s no telling what kind of psychological damage those two will do to a kid — that is, if they even bother paying attention to him once the novelty of this wears off.”

“You were more than all right having Natalie be a stepmother to Sophie. And Bree turned out okay.”

“That was before I found out that pretty much everything Natalie every said or did was a giant lie. And as for Bree, she had Conrad to balance out her mother.” Jason sets down his club soda roughly on a nearby high-top table. “Thanks for the support, brother. I’ll see you later.”

“Jason,” Tim says, but it is no use, because Jason blows off the dance floor and back into the crowd. Tim sighs, horrified that their conversation went about as poorly as it possibly could have.

—–

“Do you think the music will always be this loud?” Paula Fisher asks in a far corner of the bar.

Claire Fisher chuckles. “I would guess so… but we’re probably not the target audience, either.”

Paula gazes around the busy establishment before turning back to her former daugher-in-law. “I suppose not. But Kathleen and Jimmy really did do a nice job. I can see people having a lot of fun here.”

“Looks like they already are,” Brent Taylor comments, lifting his chin in the direction of the opposite end of the bar, where a woman in her 20s is letting out thrilled screams as she rides the bucking mechanical bull.

“Regardless, I should be getting home soon,” Paula says. “I have to be at the courthouse early.”

“Same,” Claire says with a tense nod. “As much as I’m dreading it, it will be a relief to have this situation finally resolved.”

Paula’s face stiffens. “Possibly. I worry that this will only drag things out. I hate seeing everyone upset and at odds like this.”

“The hearing should be a step in the right direction,” Brent tells her. He downs what is left of his beer and looks to Claire. “We’ll get going in a minute. We can fill Caleb in on what his friend Jasmine tried to pull tonight.”

“The boys are at your house?” Paula asks.

Brent nods back at her, confused. “Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, nothing too serious. Molly sent me a text message that she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be coming tonight. I had hoped she had the twins there to keep her company.”

“I saw her when she dropped the boys off earlier, and she seemed fine,” Brent says.

Paula shrugs. “She must have started to feel like she was coming down with something.”

Claire notes Paula’s empty wine glass.

“Can we call you a taxi?” she asks.

“Taxi?” Paula laughs as she pulls her smartphone from her purse. “Tori showed me how to call an Uber!”

“Good on her,” Brent says. “Helping you keep up with the times.”

“Not enough to keep me in a bar this loud,” Paula says, “but it’s a start.”

—–

“Rosie!” Travis calls as he rushes out of the bar. The warm summer air would normally feel refreshing, but right now, it is simply sobering; the reality of what just happened cascades down over him.

She stops on the sidewalk, several yards away from the bar’s entrance. Still, she does not fully turn around, merely pauses there. Travis increases his pace to catch up to her.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” he says.

She cranes her neck around toward him, still keeping her body angled away. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“But I want to make it clear that nothing’s happening between Elly and me.”

“Weren’t you just kissing?”

“She kissed me,” he says. “Like two seconds before you showed up. I was the one who pulled away.”

He stands in the silence, waiting. A car’s headlights zip by in the street.

Finally she fully faces him, crossing her arms in front of the long, caramel-colored vest that hangs down over her skinny black jeans. “You’re a free man.”

“And that isn’t what I want,” Travis says. “Right before Elly kissed me, I was talking about you. How I wish you’d shown up tonight. How I wanted you to be there. Because, even after all this, I’m holding out hope this will work out.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” she replies, her words weighted with defeat.

“Rosie. Come on.” He stares into her eyes, as if zapping his plea into her. “You came here tonight for a reason. What you saw between Elly and me — that was nothing. Seriously, nothing. If the answer is no, I’ll never ask again. I’ll leave you alone. But I have to ask one more time: can you please give us one more chance?”

—–

Samantha, Jaq, Tori, and Zane linger awkwardly by the booth.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of homewrecker,” Elly snaps. “They haven’t been together for months!”

Zane studies her for a long moment. “Haven’t we met?”

Elly regards him with a suspicious eye before a lightbulb goes off in her head. “When I first came back to town last year. At Cassie’s.”

“Right,” he responds. “Nice to see you’re as friendly as ever.” He turns to Tori. “What do you say we go grab drinks?”

“I can’t think of a better idea,” Tori says, and they quickly peel off toward the bar.

Elly lets out a groan as she drops her face into her palms.

Samantha leans in toward Jaq. “Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

“No problem.” Jaq offers an encouraging smile. “I’ll go get drinks for us. What do you want?”

“I’ll trust you to surprise me,” Samantha says.

Jaq snickers. “Famous last words.”

When they also head to the bar, Samantha asks Elly, “Mind if I sit down for a minute?”

Wordlessly, Elly scoots over in the booth, allowing her former roommate to sit beside her.

“So… what’s going on with you?” Sam asks.

Elly’s eyes flash toward her with annoyance. “What do you mean? All I did was kiss someone I dated for years.”

“Which is fine. You just seem… different since you got back from law school.”

A lengthy moment of silence passes as Elly considers her answer. A tension crackles in the air, even through the noise of the busy bar; Samantha wonders if Elly is about to go on the defensive.

“Growing up has a way of doing that to you, I guess,” Elly says at last. “Makes you want to stand up for yourself. Not be so much of a doormat. It isn’t like you’re the same as you were when you were 18.”

“No, but…”

“Law school taught me a lot of things,” Elly continues unprompted. “Like that I don’t have to get out of people’s way just because they want me to.”

Samantha bobs her head up and down in partial understanding. It makes sense, but she has also felt such distance from her former friend since Elly returned to King’s Bay.

“Do you still have a thing for Travis?” Sam inquires.

“No! I mean, I’ll always care about Travis, and he’s matured a lot — but making out with an ex doesn’t mean you want to get back together.”

Sam pushes up her glasses on her nose. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. The last thing I’m looking for right now is a relationship.”

“Why’s that?”

Elly hesitates before saying, “Because I have my career to focus on, first and foremost. I don’t need anyone distracting me from that — anyone.”

—–

“Of course,” Claire says into her cell phone as she holds it to her face in the entryway of the bar, where the noise is slightly dulled. “I can be there in 20 minutes.”

As she hangs up, Brent waits beside her.

“They need you to come in?” he asks.

“There was a riot at some basketball game on the north side, and a pileup on I-90. Sounds like it’s all hands on deck at the hospital tonight.” She places a hand on his upper arm. “I’m sorry we won’t be able to spend the night together.”

“I get it. Want me to drop you off on my way?”

“You don’t have to go out of your way.”

“I don’t mind the extra few minutes with you,” he says. “Come on.”

She takes his hand and stretches upward to give him a peck on the lips. “You’re the best.”

—–

After Tori and Zane get drinks from the bar, they are scoping out the crowd and the newly opened place when Paula approaches them.

“It’s so good to see you looking like your old self,” she says as she embraces her granddaughter.

“Thanks, Grandma,” Tori says, her voice as stiff as her body. She doesn’t want to push Paula away, but she isn’t exactly certain about interacting with someone who lives in the same house as her parents and is no doubt on their side in this whole situation.

“It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Fisher,” Zane says, sticking out his hand.

With a hint of skepticism, Paula takes it and shakes. “You, too, Zane.” She addresses Tori again: “Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to be out like this?”

“I’m fine,” Tori responds with a note of irritation. “Physically, at least. It’s the other parts that are going to be a lot harder to get over.”

Paula’s lips pull downward in a frown. “I am so sorry for everything you’ve had to go through, sweetie.”

“So am I,” Tori says.

“Your grandfather would be heartbroken over all of this,” Paula says.

Tori’s expression hardens. “I don’t think he’d approve of what my dad did, either.”

“Maybe not,” Paula admits, “but he always hated seeing family be torn apart. Nothing is too great to overcome.”

Reading Tori’s body language, Zane steps in: “Mrs. Fisher, with all due respect, what Tori needs right now isn’t pressure to forgive and forget what her dad did. She’s got a lot to process and a lot of pain to deal with.”

Paula draws in a rough breath as she accepts his words.

“Then you had better be a part of that healing process,” she tells Zane. “I’ll have my eye on you. If you hurt my granddaughter again in any way whatsoever, you’ll have to answer to me.”

“Grandma,” Tori says.

“I’ll let you two enjoy your night,” Paula says, hiking up her purse on her shoulder. “But Zane, keep that in mind — and Tori, I’m here whenever and however you need me.”

—–

Travis can feel the silence eating away at him. Rosie’s face is inscrutable, the way it so often is — composed, tensed slightly, hinting at deep thought that it refuses to reveal.

“Come on,” he says. “Please.”

“You’re a grown man,” she says, “and I’ve done nothing but put distance between us for — well, forever.”

“I didn’t want to be kissing Elly!” he insists. He catches himself raising his voice, and a glance over his shoulder confirms that the bouncer is listening to them.

“You don’t have to explain anything because you didn’t do anything wrong,” Rosie adds. “I’m the one who did.”

“Rosie…”

“I was wrong not just getting my ass over here tonight. As a matter of fact, I was wrong for not holding on for dear life when you came to see me after Diego shot himself.”

Travis’s instinct is to protest, but something about her tone has shifted ever-so-slightly. He leans in subtly, terrified to scare her away by pouncing.

“I can’t change the past,” Rosie says. “I can’t go back and magically make up for everything I did wrong. But I also can’t keep putting my life on hold because of those things.”

His eyes widen. “Are you saying…?”

She grasps his hands. “I want to do this, Travis. The– the faith you have in me, in us, it’s unreal. And it’s rare. I’m finally seeing just how valuable that is.”

“It’s because I know we’re supposed to be together.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting tonight. And I’m sorry I ever gave you a reason to doubt that I want to be with you. That’s never what this was about.”

“You really want this,” he says, feeling suddenly out-of-breath.

“Like, completely and totally.” She steps in toward him, leaving mere millimeters separating their faces. “There’s just one thing.”

Travis’s heart pounds. “What?”

“That bouncer is totally watching us,” she whispers.

“Then let’s give him what he wants.” Travis’s hands go to the back of her head, his fingers in her black hair, as their faces meet, lips and tongues touching and twisting as they make up for all the months that have been lost.

—–

After he drops off Claire at the hospital, Brent sets out for his house. He finds the radio competing with his own thoughts, and he finally turns the volume dial down to zero. He sits with his thoughts as he drives, watching the way his headlights cut over the dark pavement.

When the time comes for the right turn that would lead him home, however, his hands hesitate on the steering wheel, and he instead continues straight. It takes only seven or eight more minutes to reach his unexpected destination.

He hops out of the car, his body jittery with nerves as his legs propel him toward the front door.

He has only a handful of seconds to doubt himself after ringing the doorbell. Once the door is opened, he knows he has made the right decision.

“Brent,” Molly says as she stares at him in shock. “What are you doing here?”

END OF EPISODE 985

What is Brent doing at Molly’s house?
Can Travis and Rosie have some happiness now?
Is Tim right about Jason and the custody suit?
Discuss it all in the comments below!

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