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- Sarah and Matt planned to remarry in a small wedding.
- After she saw Samantha kissing Tempest, Diane turned to Alex for advice on how to handle the matter as a parent--but couldn't bring herself to raise the issue just yet.
- Alex ran into Samantha and Tempest at an LGBT club night and promised Samantha a listening ear--and his complete discretion--if she needed to talk about anything. 


The diamond on Sarah Fisher’s finger catches the light streaming through her bedroom window, so as she looks at her reflection in the mirror, the gleam from her ring is unmistakable. It seems like a beacon of hope, a sign of what today’s events will mean for the future. She also wishes that it could magically reassure her about the hundred details that are racing through her brain and nearly crippling her with worry or indecision.
“You’re sure my shoulders won’t look too bare?” she asks.
“No way,” her teenage daughter says from behind her. Tori takes a moment to adjust the lock of hair purposely falling from Sarah’s up ‘do, moving it almost imperceptibly but in a way that makes a shocking amount of difference. “Hold still and close your eyes.”

Before Sarah can protest, Tori picks up the can of hairspray. Instinctively, Sarah clamps her eyes shut. When the spraying concludes, she carefully opens them and checks out her reflection again. She has to admit that Tori has done a wonderful job on her hair; she tries to picture it paired with her strapless wedding dress instead of the gray hoodie sweatshirt she is currently wearing.
“Once you get that necklace on, it’s gonna look so good,” Tori says. “Trust me here.”

Sarah cracks a grin. “I’m trying. I just want everything to be perfect today.”

  Sarah Fisher

“It will be.”
“Is it safe?” Matt Gray calls from the hallway.

Sarah's whole being tenses up. 

"She doesn't have her dress on! You're fine," Tori responds.

An instant later, Matt comes barreling through the door. He has that wild look about him that Sarah recognizes well: a flash in his eyes, a spasticity about his movement.

"What happened?" she asks, already dreading the answer.

"Eddie thought last night would the perfect time to try some new Korean barbecue food truck. One guess how that ended."

"Oh no," Sarah says. 

"Nasty food poisoning." Matt rubs a hand on the back of his neck nervously. "Your dad just called. He says he's got it under control. But the restaurant's closed, and he gave everyone the day off--"

"There has to be someone who can help out," Tori says.

"Hope so," Matt says. "I'm gonna make some calls, too. Otherwise, I'm gonna go down there and help myself."

Sarah springs to her feet. "You can't be cooking all day. You have to get married!"

"I'll work it out. Better for me to be a little nuts than have everyone pissed because the food sucks."

"Yeah," Sarah says limply. 

"I'll see you there, okay?" He takes the time to give Sarah a kiss on the forehead and Tori a quick hug before darting out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

"Oh no," Sarah mutters as she slumps back into her chair.

"Mom, it's just food. Dad and Grandpa will figure it out. Someone from the restaurant will be able to come in," Tori says.

"I hope so." But it is impossible not to think that this is about more, that this is about the wedding, or the marriage, itself--just like last time.

Harbor Boulevard

"No one can come in so far," Bill Fisher says, the phone lodged between his ear and shoulder as he dices tomatoes. The knife clacks against the countertop that doubles as a cutting board, its sound echoing through the vast and abnormally empty kitchen. "Matt, I've got it under control. Don't worry."

Bill is listening to Matt's frantic brainstorms as footsteps announce the arrival of someone else. Bill turns, half-expecting it to be Matt himself, having raced over here while speaking to Bill on the phone. Instead he sees Travis Fisher carrying a plastic tub.

"I'm going to make a few more calls," Bill says into the phone. "Of course I'll keep you posted. Bye." He sets the knife down on the countertop and ends the call.

"I have those pictures Grandma asked me to bring over," Travis explains as he lays the tub at his feet. "Do you have any idea where they're supposed to go?"

Bill shrugs. "I think they're going to display them on the table near the entry. You can just put the bin out there, and they'll figure it out."

"Okay. Cool." Travis surveys the virtually deserted kitchen. "Are you cooking all alone? What's going on?"

"My sous-chef for the day has violent food poisoning." Bill sighs as he picks up the knife again. "Matt's thinking he should come down here and help out, which I keep telling him is a bad idea--"

"I can help."

Bill freezes and looks up at his grandson. "Really?"

"Sure, I mean… why not?" Travis whips out his phone and fires off a text message with a speed that amazes Bill. "I just asked Dad to bring my suit here so I can get changed. What do you need me to do?"

"Umm…" Bill isn't even sure where to begin. He has never known Travis to cook more than macaroni-and-cheese from a box. But he could certainly use a hand with today's workload--at least with the grunt work. 

"Let me get you set up," Bill says as he sets up several large onions on another area of the countertop. "Give these a rough chop."

"All of these? Jeez."

"We're cooking for 30-plus people here. Do it like this." Bill grabs a clean knife and slices through an onion, first opening it up to remove the skin before he deftly chops away at one section to reduce it to little pieces.

"All right. I can do that." Travis takes the knife, positions himself in front of the onion, and--to Bill's amazement--sets about chopping it with a surprising amount of precision. He rocks the blade back and forth over the onion, using one hand to steady the knife on top.

He pauses and looks up. "This okay?"

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Bill asks.

"I dunno. I just watched you do it."

Bill chuckles. "Well, you're good at it. I'm glad someone finally inherited my cooking genes--" He stops himself mid-thought, but he can tell from the way Travis's face falls that the damage has already been done.

"Sorry," Bill says. "You know what I mean."

Travis seems disoriented but forces a smile. "Yeah."

Uneasiness hangs in the air for a long moment.

"Let's get to work," Travis says. "We must have a ton to do."

"No kidding." Bill grabs his own knife again and returns to the tomatoes, thrilled by the sound and sight of his grandson working away beside him.

* * * * *

Some time later, the restaurant's dining room has begun to fill up with wedding guests. The space has received a makeover for the day: tables and chairs have been moved around to facilitate the small ceremony and reception, while the normally sparse decor has been spruced up with the addition of candles and rustic bouquets of lavender. 

"Where do I put this?" Samantha Fisher asks her mother as they enter. A large box wrapped in white and silver fills Samantha's arms and blocks her vision of most of the restaurant.

"This table over here," Diane says, leading the way toward a table that contains several other presents as well as a number of framed photos of Sarah, Matt, Tori, and Billy

Samantha sets down the gift and lets out an enormous sigh. "I don't know why we couldn't just order a gift online and have it shipped."

"Because we don't want to show up empty-handed. Here, hold on a second." Diane straightens the collar of Samantha's blazer. "Much better." 

  Diane Bishop

"Thanks." Samantha takes a look around the room. "Oh, Bree came with Aunt Natalie and Uncle Jason. I'm going to go say hi to them."

"Tell your cousin I'll come see her later when her harridan of a mother isn't around. Well, maybe don't say 'harridan' to her--"

"Got it." Samantha darts off to see her cousin.

Diane surveys the room. Tim isn't here yet, and she isn't sure who else she can tolerate. Luckily, she spots Alex Marshall, squatting down and helping Billy play with a toy truck. She hurries over to them.

"Hi there," she says, and Alex springs up to greet her with a hug. "How are you holding up?"

Alex grimaces. "Tim told you?"

"Yep. I'm sorry Liam pulled the rug out from under you that way."

"So am I. I guess I deserved it, though."

"Look, I don't know the specifics of what went on with you guys--"

"I screwed up. He had a right to be angry." Alex goes silent for several seconds, his gaze lost somewhere in the cement floor. "I just didn't expect him to lash out this way."

"I told Tim this," she says, "but if I could think of a single thing to do to take back control of that script from Liam, you know I'd help you."

"I know." 

"I have to hand it to him: that was pretty well played."


"I'm just saying." She rests a hand on his arm. "Kick ass with your next book. Hell, sell the movie rights. You're still getting a credit and a check for this movie, even if Liam rewrites it a thousand times--"

"Or changes it completely."

"Or changes it completely. Yeah. You're going to get through this, though."

"Thanks." Alex shakes his head and looks down to check on Billy, who is happily occupied with the truck. "How've you been?"

"There's actually something I've wanted to talk to you about… It's about Samantha."

Alex stiffens. "What? What about her?"

Diane glances over and sees Samantha talking with Natalie and Bree; her daughter has chosen to wear pants instead of a dress so many times in the past, but only now does it seem alarming to Diane. And not even alarming in the sense that it scares her or anything--just that it seems to confirm something that she has suspected, something she hopes that she can address in the proper way.

"You know what? Let's talk later," she says. "I'm gonna get a drink."

"Sounds good."

"I really am sorry about the movie."


Diane moves toward the bar, and Alex lets out the faintest sigh of relief. He has a pretty good feeling that he knows exactly what Diane wants to discuss--but after the encounter he had with Samantha at the club, he has no idea how he is supposed to navigate such a conversation without betraying one or both of them.

* * * * *

"Slow down!" Molly Taylor calls out to her sons, who have sprinted ahead of her toward the restaurant's entrance. Moving as quickly as she can in her high heels, she manages to catch up just as Caleb has pulled open the door and is about to dart inside.

"Be careful. You could knock someone over," she says to him and Christian. "What are you even running toward?"

The boys exchange a look and shrug. Molly scans the restaurant and sees her mother across the way. She is about to bring the twins over to say hello to their grandmother when she spots another pair of familiar faces near the gift table.

"Oh my gosh! It's been so long," she says to Jake Gray and Mia Davich. The three exchange hugs to greet one another. 

"How are you?" Mia asks. She hardly appears to have aged a day since Molly last saw her, even though it has been years. She wears a tasteful gray sheath dress with a red belt around the waist.

"I'm doing well," Molly says, a brave smile on her face even though the past few months are some of the more difficult ones she's faced, given her aborted nuptials to Philip. "Work has been really busy."

"I ordered one of your dresses online a few weeks ago! The black one with the cap sleeves…"

"Well, thank you. I bet it looks great on you. I hope you like it."

"I love it," Mia says.

"And how about you guys? It's been so long."

"Mia's physical therapy practice is really taking off," Jake says. "Everything's about the same with me."

Mia swats a hand at his chest. "He's got his hands full coaching Marcus's basketball team."

"That's so great," Molly says. "Where is--" But as she looks past Mia, she sees a young biracial boy preoccupied with his iPhone. "Oh my gosh. That can't be him. He's so big."

"This is him. Marcus, come here." Jake stretches his arm out to give his son a poke on the shoulder. 

"Hi. I'm Molly," she says, extending a hand to the boy. "I'm Sarah's sister. It's nice to see you."

"You, too." Marcus shakes her hand with the same sort of inexplicable embarrassment that her own sons exhibit whenever she requests that they act like adults. 

Molly turns back and sees the twins going through the place cards on another table. 

"Hands off those!" she orders. "And come over here, please."

With a pair of very exaggerated groans, Caleb and Christian drop whatever they're doing and trudge over to her. 

"I want you guys to meet someone," she says. "This is Marcus. He's Tori's cousin. He's almost your age."

"Cool," Christian says, suddenly shy even though he was exploding with energy mere moments ago. As the parents try to facilitate conversation among the boys, a member of the waitstaff approaches.

"Excuse me," the woman, clad in a crisp white shirt and black pants, says. "Are you the best man?"

Jake turns. "I am. What can I do for you?"

"We have a question about the place settings."

Seeing Jake's deer-in-the-headlights expression, Molly steps in. "Why don't I deal with this? I'm the bride's sister, and it's my dad's restaurant."

"Thanks," Jake says, his relief apparent. He and Mia return to talking to the kids as Molly moves off with the server.

* * * * *

In the kitchen, Bill moves down a line of filet cuts set out on pans. He seasons the top side of each with salt and pepper before he sets about flipping them all with tongs so he can go down the line again.

"Okay, lettuce is on all the plates," Travis says, peeking his head around a corner. 

Bill sets down the tongs. "Let me see." Sure enough, the 30-odd plates now have the greens for the salad course laid out upon them.

"Looks great," Bill says. "Now take those pears we sliced--"

"Is it safe?" comes a familiar voice from the back of the kitchen.

"The coast is clear!" Bill shouts back. "Come on in."

He shows Travis how to set out the pear slices on the salads while the sounds of bustling and maneuvering come from the back door. Finally, Sarah appears, now wearing her long, white, strapless wedding dress. Tori is behind her, holding the slim train of the dress so it doesn't drag on the kitchen floor.

  Bill Fisher

"Look at how beautiful you are," Bill says, wiping his hands on a towel before he goes toward his daughter. 

"You look great," Travis says as he continues to work on the salads.

"Thank you." Sarah looks past her dad. "How's the food? Is everything okay?"

"Travis decided to be my sous chef today, and I'm very impressed," Bill says. "You will be, too."

"Thank you so much, Travis!" Sarah says.

"How are things coming back here?" comes a shout from the kitchen's other end.

The sound of Matt's voice hits Sarah like a semi-truck roaring through the restaurant.

"Wait!" she yells. "I'm in here."

"Here, come with me," Tori says as she searches for a hiding spot. "Come in here."

"I'm not going in there!" Sarah says as Tori pulls open the door to the walk-in freezer. "Do you remember what happened on our first wedding day?"

"It's fine. We'll leave the door propped open." Tori drags her mother inside the freezer, leaving the door cracked open.

"It's clear now!" Bill announces, and a split-second later, Matt appears in the kitchen in his black suit. 

"My god, Travis, can't thank you enough for jumping in here," he says, clapping a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"No problem."

Bill and Travis walk Matt through what he has done so far, eager to reassure him that everything is going to be all right. 

"Sorry to interrupt," Molly says as she rushes into the kitchen. "The servers have a question about the place settings…"

"Here, let's go out and have a look," Bill says to Matt.

"I need to see if Dad is here with my suit yet," Travis says.

Bill waves him along. "Come on. Quick break and then we'll finish off those salads and get to the dessert prep."

Bill, Matt, and Travis hurry out of the kitchen. Molly is about to follow when something catches her eye. Quickly, she moves across the kitchen, closes the door of the walk-in freezer, which seems to have been left carelessly ajar. She slides the bolt into place and then rushes out to follow the men. 

* * * * *

"Here, this should fix it," Tori says as she slides another bobby pin into her mother's hair.

"Thanks," Sarah says. "Now let's--" She is interrupted by an unmistakable sound and immediately looks toward the door. "Oh my god."


Instead of answering, Sarah rushes over to the freezer's door, her dress now dragging on the floor--but it is just as she feared: somehow, while they were distracted with fixing her hair, the door got closed.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Tori asks, but a moment later, she sees exactly what the problem is. 

"Oh my god. This can't be happening again," she mutters, and then she raises a fist to the door. "Help! Let us out!"


Will Sarah and Tori be released in time?
Will the wedding actually go off without a disaster?
Should Alex cover for Samantha with Diane?
Come over to the Footprints Forum to talk about it all!

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Wed., April 01, 2015

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