“Here,
kid. Maybe try this,” Tempest Banks says. She holds out a stuffed rabbit, which captures Peter’s attention for about four seconds before he hurls it onto the floor and refocuses on Samantha. “Not a fan of rabbits, I see.” Samantha stoops over to pick up the toy. “Yeah,
but he’s really happy,” Tempest says. As if on cue, Peter swivels his head toward her and giggles. “You know, when they’re like this, it’s hard to think about how much they cry and scream and stuff." “I guess you just get used to it." “Maybe. Yeah." The
young women watch Peter for a long moment as he flails his arms excitedly, for no ostensible reason. The rest of the dinner party swirls around them, family and friends chattering in the living and dining rooms as the appetizing scents of their upcoming meal waft out of the kitchen. “Is this weird for you?” Samantha asks delicately. Tempest turns. “Weird? Why?" “Because of the baby. And your mom." The
staid reaction that passes over Tempest’s face makes it clear that her mind has already been on the same track of thoughts. “I don’t know. Kinda. It doesn’t really seem like I’m about to have a new brother or sister. I guess I won’t, really." “You will. You’ll always be… connected. I know that sounds corny." “Nah.
I know what you mean.” Tempest plays with Peter’s tiny fingers as she thinks. “And this is the only right way for my mom to play this. Let that kid go have a normal life with good parents." “At least it seems like she understands how badly she messed up with you and your brother,” Samantha says. “Yeah. Lucky for this kid." “Do you think you’ll keep in touch with her? Your mom, I mean?" Tempest’s
head is shaking side to side before she even begins to form words. “Don’t think so. We don’t have anything else to say to each other right now. Maybe she’ll get her life together. And who knows down the road? But right now? Nah." “As long as you feel good about however it ends up,” Samantha says. “I do. I really think this is gonna be good for everybody." ----- A broken streetlight towers over the open spot beside the curb. Alex Marshall carefully angles his car into the space and kills the engine. “That’s
it,” Diane Bishop says from the passenger seat, as she points out a window toward a house with beaten, beige vinyl siding.
“Then you find a way to talk to him. Like I said, this isn’t a commitment. Yvette knows that, too. It’s like a first date. You don’t have to get married just because you eat some overpriced salmon." Alex lets out a soft chuckle as they approach the house. “She
said to go to the side door,” Diane says, and after a few seconds of studying the house’s exterior, they find a dilapidated wooden gate leading to a short alleyway. Alex holds it open for Diane to pass through and then closes it gently. The latch sticks as he attempts to slide it back into place. Once
they are at the door, Diane knocks. Immediately they hear shuffling sounds from within, although it takes a lengthy moment before the inside locks are undone. When Yvette Banks pulls open the door, she and Alex make immediate eye contact. They stand there, as if held in place by a tractor beam, taking in one another. “Yvette, this is Alex Marshall,” Diane says. “Alex, Yvette Banks." “It’s nice to meet you,” Alex says. “Thanks for making the time." Yvette
takes his hand for a shake. Her skin is soft, her hand a little more padded than he expected -- which makes sense, in light of how pregnant she is -- and one of her long fingernails scratches against his palm. “Come
on in,” Yvette says. She steps out of the way and waits for them to enter. As she closes and locks the door, Alex takes in the space. It is very small, just a bedroom with a tiny kitchenette against one wall. Worn brown carpet covers the entire apartment. Opposite the entrance is another door that Alex presumes is the bathroom. “I
know it’s not much,” Yvette says as she maneuvers her body -- most of which seems to be stomach, at this late stage of her pregnancy — across the room. “But it’s only temporary. Came furnished and all.” She eases herself onto the edge of the twin bed. “Come on, have a seat." She
indicates a single armchair in the corner and a wooden stool beside it. Alex pulls up the stool, and Diane perches in the chair. “How
are you feeling?” Alex asks. A small knot of nerves twists in his gut as he processes all this new information: the woman, the apartment, the unborn child. Until right now, it all felt somehow abstract, not quite real. “I’m okay. Real tired. Don’t think I’m gonna be working much longer." “Where, uh, where do you work?” “Down
at the 99-cent store over on Duvall.” She flicks her hand through the air, as if the store is somewhere to her left. “They got me on my damn feet all day." “I’m sure that’s exhausting,” Alex says. “Sure is." Diane
clasps her hands together and clears her throat. “Yvette, Alex is an author. I was actually his editor back when I worked at Vision Publishing." Yvette squints at him. “What do you write?" “Mostly
character fiction. Coming-of-age stories.” He can see the lack of interest on her face. “My publisher is pushing me to write more mystery, though. I think my next book is going to be more like that." “Like a murder mystery?” Yvette asks. “That’s about all I read." He exhales and manages a small smile. “Well, I hope you like whatever I come up with." He
isn’t sure where or how to direct the conversation. The situation is so loaded, so dense with emotion and things unspoken, and yet it feels craven and crass to ask outright about Yvette’s unborn baby. Yvette is the next to break the silence. “What kind of family you have?" “Me?
Oh.” Alex tries to wrangle his thoughts, though it feels a bit like trying to catch water with his fingers. “It was just my mom and me growing up. I’m an only child. Well, was. My dad -- I didn’t meet him until I was much older. He had another baby with the woman he married. Billy. He’s in kindergarten now. So I’ve had a lot of experience helping out and seeing him grow." “Alex
also lived with his close friend for a few years,” Diane adds, “and helped him raise his daughter, who was barely a toddler when Alex moved in." “That your man? The one you’re marrying, I mean?” Yvette looks sharply toward Diane. “You didn’t tell me they had a kid." “No,
uh, Jason is my best friend,” Alex answers. "He has been for a long time. His wife passed away when their daughter was about a year old, so I moved in to help him out." Yvette nods slowly. “That’s nice of you." “He’s
a great friend. It was the least I could do. And getting to be there to watch Sophie grow up -- that was incredible.” He feels something swelling inside of himself. “Yvette, I’ve had a lot of advantages in life, but my mother… she never totally made me her priority. I sort of got swept along in whatever was going on with her, and we moved around a lot because she was never sure what she wanted. She never acknowledged that she might not have been able to give me all the focus that a child requires. So for you to do this for your baby…" He gestures broadly toward her stomach, unsure of exactly what he is trying to say and hoping that he is not offending her. "I
know this is a tough decision for you to make,” he says. "But it’s also really brave. And if you were to decide that you felt like I could give that child a good home, I’d be honored." Yvette leans back, palms flat on the bed behind her, her breathing a bit heavy. Then she looks to Diane again. “You knew what you were doing,” she says. “This is a good one. You’re a good man, Alex, I can tell." “Um, thank you,” he says, thrown by the sincerity of her pronouncement. “Now,
I’m gonna have to meet this fiancé you’ve got,” Yvette adds, “but we’ve gotta make it fast. I don’t think I have much longer before this baby comes." “We’ll make it work,” Diane says before Alex can respond. “We’ll make it all work." ----- The
two additional leaves extend the Fishers’ dining table into the living room. Extra chairs from the kitchen and den have been brought in to fit everyone around the table for tonight’s dinner. Matt and Travis carry heaping platters of steaming food in from the kitchen and set them in the center of the table. “I’m so happy that we got to meet you,” Helen Chase says as she, her husband, and two young adults walk toward the table. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Chase,” Zane Tanaka says . He flashes her a gleaming grin. “Tori’s told me a lot about you." Helen chuckles. “All good, I hope." “All good,” Tori says. “Mostly how you stood up for me to Fee C." “Oh, that horrible girl!” Helen says. “I hope we’ve seen the last of her." “She strikes me as the penny-with-a-hole-in-it type,” Don says, “but I hope you’re right." The
two pairs split off to find seats at the table. Zane and Tori slide across the row of chairs nearest the wall, putting them next to Samantha and Tempest. When Spencer Ragan enters from the den, he spots the open seat next to Tori and makes a move for it. “Can I sit next to you, Spencer?” Sophie Fisher asks as she starts tailing him. “Sophie, don’t terrorize your cousin,” her father says from the far end of the table. Spencer holds up a hand. “She’s fine.” He sees Natalie glaring wordlessly at him as she and Jason seat themselves. Spencer scoots in beside Tori, and Sophie follows so that she is on his other side.
“He used to live with the Footprint Killer,” Sophie interjects from Spencer’s other side. Spencer, Tori, and Zane all look to the little girl with surprise. “Philip. That was his brother,” she adds helpfully. “Sophie, we don’t need to talk about that now,” Tori says. But Sophie tugs on the sleeve of Spencer’s sweater. “Did you know he was gonna kill Grandpa Bill?" “No!”
Spencer says, his shock evident. “No. Not at all. If I had any idea…” He shifts in his chair to place his attention more fully on his young cousin. “Nobody had any idea. If I did, I would’ve stopped him." “How? Would you beat him up?” Sophie balls her small hands into fists. “Or stab him?" “I wouldn’t stab anybody,” Spencer says. “That’s so messy." Sophie giggles. “That’s enough,” Claire says from across the table. “Yeah, Soph. This really isn’t something we need to talk about, especially not at dinner,” Tim chimes in. Claire levels her stare at Spencer. “And it isn’t something to joke about." “Oh, excuse me,” he says with a sneer. “Am I making you uncomfortable?" “She’s a little girl,” Claire says. Spencer
feels the hot lava of anger bubbling inside his chest. For Claire to sit across from him and judge him like this, the same way that she and Tim judged him when the murders were still being investigated. “What are you gonna do?” Spencer says. “Tell your boyfriend on me?" It isn’t as if Claire has been moving much, but the way that she completely freezes is instantaneous and apparent to Spencer. “You know,” he says, lifting his voice above the fray. “Brent. Your boyfriend." Claire’s lips twitch before she manages to say anything. “Spencer…" “I saw the two of you at the hospital. In the cafeteria. Kissing." “What in the world is going on down there?” Paula asks from the head of the table. Spencer’s eyes burn fire in Claire’s direction even as he addresses his grandmother. “Why don’t you ask Claire?” he says. “Ask her to tell you all about her and Brent.” ----- Back
in the car, Alex starts the engine. But he makes no move to put the vehicle in drive; he simply sits, staring at the back of the station wagon parked in front of them. In the passenger seat, Diane shifts to face him. “What’s up?” she asks. “That went well." “It did go well.” He brings a knuckle to his lips as he thinks. “But this isn’t your decision to make, Diane." “I didn’t say--" “You did. You all but told Yvette that Trevor and I were committed to adopting this baby. Trevor doesn’t even know we’re here!" “Now you can go home and tell him." “Tell
him that I lied, right after I promised him that if he isn’t ready for a child, I won’t push?” He pauses for a deep breath to keep his anger in check; he reminds himself that he is as irritated with the impossible situation as he is with Diane’s pushiness. “I appreciate you looking out for me. I do. And I know you want this whole thing to be neat and tidy because you want things to be smooth sailing for Tempest and Samantha. But if this doesn’t work in my life--" “Just
ask Trevor to sit down with Yvette,” Diane interrupts. “Let them talk. Let him see her as a real person. It’s probably this scary, abstract thing right now." “That’s how it felt to me before I met her." “Precisely. One thing at a time. You didn’t say that you were adopting the baby. You said you’d like to. If Trevor really doesn’t want to go through with this, I can let her know that you guys aren’t in a place to adopt so quickly." “And then what happens?" “She’s
arranging for an adoption anyway. There are other people out there who will step up to raise that baby. But it seems…” She goes quiet, her face contorting as she searches for her words -- very uncharacteristic for someone normally as outspoken as Diane. “…like it’s meant to be." “You’re getting soft,” Alex says. “Are you sure you don’t want another baby?" “Me? No. That is not what the universe wants here." Alex
thinks suddenly of the child she and Ryan miscarried several years ago and feels guilty for raising the subject. They have never discussed it at length, but perhaps that is where some of this is coming from, whether or not Diane will admit it -- or even realizes it to begin with. “Just
ask Trevor to meet with her and keep an open mind,” she says firmly, in a tone that almost makes him believe it's all that clean and simple. “If he says no, then you drop it. If he’s willing, see how it goes. There’s nothing dishonest about that." “You
know, you have a real talent for blurring the lines,” he says as he turns a knob, causing the headlights to snap on and illuminate the back of the station wagon. “It’s kind of my thing." Alex rolls his eyes as he begins to pull the car out of the parking space. ----- After
Alex and Diane leave, Yvette goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She is nearly finished when she feels the startling sensation. Suddenly, it is as if she is being stabbed in the abdomen. The feeling moves, with excruciating slowness, down into her pelvis, like a blade being dragged to torture her.
“I’ve gotta get to the hospital,” she says, hoisting herself off the bed as she scours the room for her keys. ----- Spencer’s outburst extinguishes the thin flames of dinner table conversation that have been carrying on until this moment. “Claire, what is he talking about?” Paula asks. Tim turns to his side and evaluates Claire, who appears shaken. Then he glances across at Spencer. “This is not the time or the place for this,” he says. Spencer simply folds his arms as he watches. “We can discuss it later,” Claire says weakly, projecting her voice vaguely in Paula’s direction. Molly, who is seated beside her mother near the head of the table, leans toward Paula. “It’s okay. I already know." “You knew about this? So it’s true?” Paula says. “Dad is dating Aunt Claire?” Christian asks loudly. When no one makes a move to answer him, he just shrugs. “I’ll text him." “Do not text him!” Molly says. “If
everyone would excuse me,” Claire says, pushing out her chair. “I need to get some air.” She slips out of her seat and moves toward the kitchen. A moment later, the sliding door can be heard opening and closing. Paula places her hand over Molly’s. “I can’t believe they would do this. Claire, maybe, but Brent -- I thought he knew better." Sarah, positioned across the table, rolls her eyes. “What about the time he left me for Molly?" “I don’t think we need to drag that up right now,” Paula says. “Are you kidding?!" “Just stay calm,” Matt says. He sets a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder. Zane bends his head in toward Tori. “Is it always like this?" She shrugs. “Honestly, yeah." Meanwhile, Spencer sits back and observes the effects of the stick of dynamite he just tossed into the fray. “I hope that made you feel good,” Tim tells his son, before he, too, stands and follows Claire out back. At the far end of the table, Rosie watches the drama play out with widened eyes. “Okay, that was a surprise,” she says quietly. “Did you know about this?" Travis
just shakes his head. “I don’t what to think anymore.” He reaches for a nearby platter and raises his voice. “Does anyone else need the pork?" END OF EPISODE 869 What will the fallout from Spencer’s announcement be? Is Alex wrong for still considering the adoption? Will Yvette’s labor and delivery go smoothly? Join us in the Footprints Forum to talk about it all!
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