 Danielle Taylor’s headphones cup her ears as she hunches over a table in the center of Cassie’s Coffee House. The shop is busy, as it always is in the middle of a weekend day, but the activity around Danielle is somehow less distracting than that at Molly Taylor’s house, where Caleb and Christian are no doubt running around, yelling and playing. With her headphones blocking out the sound all around her, Danielle takes sips of her caramel mocha as she listens to the tracks that she just received from her sound engineer. A grin curls her lips as she takes in the depth and quality of the songs — and feels the pride of knowing that she wrote and performed them, something that seemed nearly impossible only a year ago. What causes her to look up is not a sound from outside the headphones or a physical touch that pulls her out of the zone. Rather, it is simply a feeling -- a sense of energy nearby. And when she does glance up, she spots the familiar face of Yvette Banks standing there. “Yvette,” Danielle says as she pulls the headphones down to rest around her neck. “How are you?" The very pregnant woman smiles. “I’m doing good. Just saw you sitting over here and thought I’d say hello. I don’t mean to get in your way." “No, it’s fine. It’s good to see you. Have a seat, please." Yvette maneuvers her way into the chair across from Danielle. “When are you due?” Danielle asks. “About
three weeks,” Yvette says, letting out a groan of relief as she relaxes into the chair. “You’ve got no idea how tired I am." “I remember being pregnant. It was exhausting." “You’ve got a kid?" Danielle closes her laptop. “I have a daughter. She’s in law school now." “Oh, my goodness. I never would’ve known!” Yvette takes a sip from the paper cup in her hand. “Mmm. I’m missing my coffee, but this hot chocolate is hitting the spot right now." “I’m sure. How are you doing? How were your holidays?” After their meeting at Open Mic Night, Danielle has found herself wondering about the woman she learned was Tempest’s mother. Yvette seemed uncertain then about her future in King’s Bay, and Danielle knows that anxiety must be even more extreme given the woman’s impending due date. “Real
quiet,” Yvette says. “I sent my girl a present, but I ain’t seen her. Guess I shouldn’t’ve expected that. Still hurts, you know?" Danielle nods somberly. “I understand. So… you and Tempest. Are you… You aren’t very close?" Yvette’s
eyes do a full rotation around. “Not even close. I bet you know some of it, ‘cuz you know them and all, but I didn’t do a very good job with her. Or her brother. She ran away. Didn’t even know where she was until I saw this video online last year. I came up here just to find my girl." “She’s been doing well,” Danielle says cautiously. “I know.” Yvette cradles the hot cocoa between her palms as she thinks about her next words. “I love her, I do, and I was real scared of what happened to her. But she got herself a good job and a good life, seems like." “But…" “But I’m her mama! I’m trying to make things right, I am. It’s been a long time. I made a lot of mistakes. I know that. I know.” A heavy sigh drifts out of Yvette. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I moved up here and I got this job I hate more than the one I had in L.A., and I don’t know nobody, and I’m having this baby…" Danielle
sees the burden in the other woman’s eyes. She considers her next statement for a long moment before reaching across and placing her hands atop Yvette’s. “There’s a story I’d like to tell you,” Danielle says. ----- On the second story of the very house in which she grew up. Sarah Fisher Gray lingers outside her own daughter's bedroom. She has tried several times since yesterday to approach Tori, but in each instance, her nerves have gotten the better of her; she knows that she only has one shot at this, and she has to play it correctly. After steeling herself once more, she knocks. "Yeah?"
“Nothing major. Just wanted to ask you about something.” A quiet moment passes before Tori raises both her eyebrows. “Well…" “Your friend Zane who was here,” Sarah says carefully. “Is he only a friend, or…?" “I don’t know, Mom. Really. I like him. I hope he likes me. Why?" “I’m wondering. That’s all." “Well, when I figure it out, I’ll let you know." Sarah can feel the subject -- and herself -- being dismissed and hurries to add, “Where did you meet?" “He’s
the guy I met at the winery. During the chili cookoff. It’s a miracle he even wanted to talk to me again. I was such a mess that day. I literally had chili in my hair when we met." “But he did want to see you again,” Sarah says. “You must’ve given him your number, then?" “We ran into each other at the park when I took Billy there." Sarah’s
investigative instincts vibrate. That sounds incredibly convenient. Could Zane actually have been following Tori around? Stalking her? All of them? “That was lucky timing,” she says, doing her best not to choke on the statement. “I guess so. What’s with the third degree?" “Because…”
Sarah pauses as she selects her next words with the greatest of care. “Maybe it isn’t such a great idea for you to keep seeing this guy."  “I can’t believe it!” Jason Fisher exclaims. “Finally!" Across the
lacquered white table inside Thaw Coffee & Tea, Alex Marshall shakes his head with an amused grin on his face. “Yeah, yeah. No one ever thought we’d get it together. Myself included." “I mean, I hoped you would,” Jason says. He takes a drink of his hot coffee. “But the fact that you and Trevor are actually getting married is…" Alex lifts an eyebrow. “Crazy?" “No. It’s awesome. I’m so happy for you, man." “Thanks. I still kind of don’t trust that it’s real." “You guys have waited long enough. It’s real." Alex beams as he glances around the sleek whites and blues of the coffee shop. “It’s real. Wow." “I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me before you proposed,” Jason says. “Should I be offended?" “No! I was going to. But I blabbed to Helen, and she told Don, and then I figured that was enough-- I’m sorry." “You don’t have to apologize! I’m kidding." Contentment radiates from Alex as he sips his latte. “I’m getting married. What the hell?" Jason chuckles. “I kind of always knew you guys would get there." “Really?" “Really." “I
didn’t,” Alex says, his shoulders slumping. “But maybe that’s what I had to go through. So much went wrong for us the first time around." “But you made it." “We
made it.” Alex nods along, as if processing this for the first time. “I’m going to have a family of my own. I’ve never really had that.” Jason sits back in his chair. “Never? Excuse me." “You know what I mean. Living with you and Sophie-- that was an incredible experience. But this is different." “I know.” Jason laughs. “But you know I’ll always think of you as family, right?" Alex nods. “I know. You and Sophie, too. You’ll always be family to me." ----- Samantha Fisher wipes a clear circle in the middle of the bathroom mirror. Her blurry reflection wears a towel tied at the chest, and her hair hangs down, wet and shapeless. She applies moisturizer to her face and neck and, after wiping her glasses clean and putting them back on her face, exits the bathroom. A gust of much cooler air hits her as she crosses the hallway in her mother's condo and opens the door to her own bedroom. "About time!" The
voice startles Samantha so much that she stumbles backward and nearly loses her balance. She manages to grasp her towel in time to keep it from falling off her body -- only to realize that the person in her room is perhaps the only person in the world in front of whom she wouldn’t be totally mortified to be caught naked as the day she was born.
Samantha slips into the garments before she turns back and sees her girlfriend grinning at her. “Do you still want to go to that waffle place for brunch?” Samantha asks. “Yeah. Looks good. What’s this for?" Tempest points to the clothing laid out on the bed: a black sweater, salmon-colored blouse, and a pair of khaki pants. “It’s for my interview tomorrow,” Samantha says as she pulls on a crew-neck sweater. “At Objection?" “Yeah. Why? What’s wrong?" “It’s
just…” Tempest chews her bottom lip for a moment. “It’s a fashion place, y’know? You don’t wanna show up looking like Doris the librarian." “That is not a librarian’s outfit!" “It’s a little…" “A little what?" Tempest cringes. “Old." “It is not old!" “You
wanna go in there with some edge, that’s all. Look like you got a look. Like you know clothes. That’s what this job is gonna be writing about, isn’t it?" Samantha
feels her cheeks growing warm. “I can write descriptions of clothes and copy for the website without being a fashion plate." Tempest
sits on the edge of the bed. “Think about it this way: you walk in wearing your boring interview clothes, and some other girl comes in looking like she just stepped outta Vogue or something." A pair of jeans in hand, Samantha studies the outfit on the bed. “Well, what should I do to it?" “Lose the pants, for one. You have cute black pants or something?" “Maybe…”
Samantha sets down the jeans and goes to her closet. She spots a pair of black dress pants and pulls them out. “How about these?" She holds them up. Tempest lifts a fist to her chin as she deliberates. “They’re kinda baggy,” she says, moving toward the closet herself. “I should look professional,” Samantha says. “It’s a job interview." “At a fashion designer’s, not some accounting place." Frustration rises up inside Samantha. Now the outfit lying on the bed does look completely stuffy and foolish to her, but she doesn’t know what else she has that would be any different. “You wouldn’t understand,” she blurts out. Tempest backs slowly out of the closet. “What does that mean?" “Just-- You didn’t have to interview for your job." “Nah.
I just had to shovel ice and drive the Zamboni and deal with customers for years before I got to sit at a desk. What’s that matter?" “It’s different. That’s all." Tempest folds her arms. “How?" “Forget about brunch,” Samantha says as she scoops the sweater, blouse, and pants off the bed. “I’m not in the mood." “Huh?" “I have a whole bunch of things to go over to prepare for my interview. I shouldn’t go out and waste time. Sorry." Tempest stands by and watches as she sticks the clothes back on their hangers and shoves them into the closet. “Are you serious right now?” Tempest says. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll talk to you later, okay?" After several seconds of staring in disbelief, Tempest moves to the door. “Okay. Sure." “Bye,” Samantha says. The door opens, and Tempest slips out of the room. Before Samantha can call out anything further, the door slams. Sadness
burns inside Samantha as she takes a seat on the bed and stares into her dismal closet, uncertain how things could have escalated to the point that they just did. ----- Danielle takes Yvette's silence as permission to proceed with her story. “When I got pregnant,” she says, “Jimmy and I weren’t nearly ready to become parents. At all." “Jimmy?” Yvette asks, leaning in as much as her protruding stomach will allow. “The one I…" “The one who played piano for you on Open Mic Night, yeah." “I didn’t know y’all were a thing." “We aren’t. He’s with Kathleen now. We were a long time ago. Like, kid-in-law-school long ago." Yvette laughs. “But y’all stayed friends ‘cuz of your daughter." “Not
quite.” Danielle picks up her own cup of chamomile tea. “There was a long time we weren’t friends at all. Didn’t speak or see each other, even." “Now what am I supposed to be getting from this?” Yvette asks. Danielle takes a quick drink from her tea, appreciating the warmth as it travels down her throat and through her body. “Jimmy
and I didn’t raise Elly,” she says. “My good friends, Melanie and Tom, they had been trying to conceive, and even though I fought the idea at first… I decided to let them raise her instead. And it was the best choice I could have made.” Now Yvette sits up straight. “You’re gonna sit there and tell me to give up my baby?"
“No, that was really lucky in my case. Say you’d come here and Tempest had accepted you right away. What would be different then?" Yvette’s lips twist up as she thinks. “I’d feel like I could do it." “Because you’d feel like you wouldn’t make the same mistakes as before?" “Yeah.” A nod begins to rock Yvette’s head back and forth. “Like maybe we could even be a family, you know?" “One
thing I’ve learned over the years is that I can’t control anything outside myself,” Danielle says. “Not how other people act toward me, not how the world works around me. All I can control is what I do and what decisions I make." “Hmm. Okay.” Yvette quietly drinks her cocoa and then abruptly asks, “What were you listening to when I came in?" “Some
songs that I recorded recently.” Danielle feels a smile creeping onto her face. “It’s been a long, long time since I recorded music. It feels good." “You’re so lucky you get to do that,” Yvette says, and the weight of the statement is not lost on either woman. ----- Tori screws up her face. “What are you talking about?" Sarah’s
mind kicks into overdrive. She knew this would be tricky terrain to navigate, but now that she is out on the proverbial battlefield, it is even more difficult than she imagined. “You’re still recovering from what happened,” Sarah says. “What Philip did to you." “It’s been over a year!" “And you’re doing well. I-- I want to make sure you’re focused on taking care of yourself and finishing school." “So I’m not allowed to have a social life?" “I didn’t say that." “You just said I shouldn’t see a guy you don’t even know." “You don’t know him, either,” Sarah says. Tori rolls her eyes. “Yeah. That’s the point of hanging out with someone. So you get to know them." “You don’t know if he’s dangerous, or--" “Dangerous?” In one smooth move, Tori uncrosses her legs and hops off the bed. “What are you talking about?" “I just want you to be careful." “I am being--" Tori cuts herself off as realization dawns over her. “Is this because of Philip?" Now it is Sarah’s turn to be confused. “What?" “You still don’t believe me. You think I got-- I was doing something with Philip, and I was too stupid to know that he was a serial killer, and… Ugh!” She grasps the sides of her heads. “Will you just get out?" “Tori, I’m only saying--" “That
you think I’m an idiot who can’t tell the difference between a decent guy and someone who’s going to try and kill me. Got it.” Tori marches to the open door. “Just go. Please." “That isn’t what I was saying." “That’s what it sounded like." Sarah looks at her daughter and sees the hurt on her face. All she wants to do is tell Tori why she shouldn’t trust Zane -- but if she does that, she will almost guarantee losing her P.I. license thanks to the terms of her probation. And a large part of her wouldn’t be able to bear Tori discovering that her instincts about Zane are as wrong as everyone’s were about Philip. “Just be careful,” she says softly before leaving the room. The door closes harshly behind her. Sarah remains in the hallway, replaying her confrontation with Zane in her head... “I
mean, I had big plans for some money I thought I was gonna come into,” Zane says. "Plans that would’ve changed my life. But that fell through, so I’m just trying to, you know, fill that hole any way I can. If hanging out with a cool chick does that--" “Are you seriously blackmailing me again?” she asks. He
smirks. “Whoa. I did not say that. All I meant was that if I had the money to focus on my new ventures, I might not have time for a relationship. But since I don’t have that money…" She doesn’t know what other option she has. She can’t let her daughter be misled by this man for any longer than necessary. And if she just pays him that money, he will go away for good. It really is the only choice. END OF EPISODE 862 Is Sarah really going to pay off Zane to go away? Will Danielle’s story influence Yvette at all? Did Samantha overreact to Tempest’s suggestion? Discuss it all in the Footprints Forum now!
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