EPISODE 326
Written by: Bre L Drew
December 30, 2024
Last Time on Town and Country
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Martha told Shauna that her plan to leave town after having the baby was unfair to Max, who was still hurt from her leaving before—even if she was carrying Antoine's child. She also reminded Shauna that leaving would mean abandoning Mae too.
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Esther had revealed to Deirdre that Emma is actually her father's daughter, not Patrick Covington’s, as part of her effort to convince Deirdre to persuade Emma to get tested as a potential donor match for Lenny. However, Deirdre was less than receptive to the idea. Unbeknownst to both, Emma overheard the conversation and, shocked by the revelation, quietly slipped out of the house.
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Meanwhile, Lenny is losing hope of surviving. Elijah, determined to help her fight, plans to propose, believing it might give her the strength to keep going until a donor match is found. Sarah Lynn has passed down her engagement ring, originally from Peter, for Elijah to use in his proposal.
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Dr. Saddleman delivered difficult news to the Saunders-Lockhart family: Lenny’s cancer has progressed. The update left Sean feeling increasingly helpless.
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In addition to Esther, Steven also knows the truth about Emma’s parentage. Years ago, he secretly helped Esther with a DNA test but promised to keep it a secret—even from Courtney.
MILLER INN: SUITE 330
Even though the calendar declared it was December 24th, Christmas Eve, the holiday couldn’t have felt further from Emma Covington Laurent’s mind. Standing by the window of her third-floor suite at the Miller Inn, she stares at the sweeping rural expanse of Radcliffe. The muted colors of winter stretched endlessly before her, a stark contrast to the turmoil in her chest.
Her eyes were heavy, but every time she closed them, the voices of her mother and Esther Saunders surged back, sharp and haunting. She had overheard them talking—talking about Patrick Covington, the man she’d always believed to be her father. The man wasn’t hers. Jimmy Saunders, a stranger in every way but apparently blood, was. The revelation, paired with the weight of her mother’s infidelity, crashed over her in relentless waves.
Last night, after the conversation, she had slipped away without a word, not wanting anyone to know where she had gone. She’d climbed into her car, her hands trembling as she gripped the wheel. She hadn’t decided where she was going; she only knew she couldn’t stay under the mansion’s suffocating roof a second longer.
The Miller Inn had been her refuge. She’d texted Jacques on her way there, knowing he would worry. When he asked why she wasn’t coming home, she deflected with vague reasoning, claiming she was too tired to drive.
His response was brief but tender: Take care, je t’aime (I love you)
She hadn’t the heart to explain further.
She had managed to slip downstairs to the hotel’s boutique, the night before, just before it closed. Grabbing a few pieces of clothing—nothing remarkable, just enough to ensure she wouldn’t show up in the same outfit as yesterday.
Now lingering in the suite’s silence, dressed in a soft gray cashmere polo sweater and dark pants, Emma cradles the coffee she’d ordered from room service. The warmth of the cup in her hands felt like a small life raft amid the chaos roiling inside her. She took a slow sip, her gaze fixed on the minor winter landscape stretching beyond the window, her thoughts as tangled as the bare branches outside.
She had heard more than she wanted to yesterday—not just about her parentage but about Lenny Lockhart. She could be tested to see if she was a donor match, and if she was, she could save her. The idea weighs on her, enormous and overwhelming. What did it mean to put herself through that now, of all times? What did it mean to help someone else when she didn’t even know how to help herself?
Emma exhales a long, weary sigh, her breath fogging the glass as she remained rooted by the window. The stillness of the room presses heavily around her, matching the weight in her chest. She didn’t know where she was going yet, but she knew she couldn’t stay paralyzed here forever.
HOME FARM
At Home Farm, the grand staircase of the mansion gleamed under the soft glow of holiday lights strung throughout the house. A towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the foyer, its branches adorned with gold and silver ornaments, the scent of pine filling the air. Jacques Laurent descendes the staircase with measured steps. The mansion felt alive with festive cheer, yet his wife’s absence cast a shadow over it.
Though she had texted him, he couldn’t shake the need to know how she was truly doing.
In the corner of the living room, Jacques spots Deirdre Covington at the minibar. She was dressed in a striking red Donna Karan wrap dress. A gin and tonic rested in her hand as she stares off into the middle distance.
“You look festive,” he quips. “What happened? Did the place where you get your Botox done finally get raided?”
Deirdre turned sharply, her lips tightening as she raised her middle finger at him. “Careful, Jacques,” she warned, her voice low and edged with steel. "I'm in no mood for you today."
Unbothered, Jacques stepped closer, a taunting smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s not very lady-like. So, what’s got you rattled?” he remarked, his prominent French accent adding an extra layer of mockery.
Deirdre hesitates, swirling the glass in her hand before speaking. “Something I never wanted to come out has… and now
I’m…” She trails off, her expression shifting to one of disgust and realization. “Why am I telling you this?” she snaps, the words laced with bitterness as she turns to Jacques.
It was no secret that Deirdre didn’t care for her son, fully aware of the kind of opportunist he was. His constant blackmail over her past affair made her determined to get him underneath this roof. Yet, despite her disdain, she clung to a small thread of relief—at least she believed he didn’t know Emma was the result of that affair.
Intrigued, Jacques tilts his head. “What is it?”
But Deirdre cut him off with a sharp glare. “You don’t get to ask questions, Jacques. Not when you’ve been blackmailing me and taking advantage of my daughter every chance you get.”
Her words hung heavy in the air as her eyes darted across the room, landing on a table where a folder lay forgotten. Neither she nor Jacques noticed the DNA test results still sitting there, an unspoken truth waiting to surface.
THE WATERFALL BAR
The Waterfall was alive with the warmth of the season. Twinkling lights illuminated the walls, and the soulful duet of Annie Lennox and Al Green’s Put A Little Love In Your Heart fills the room. A modest but lively crowd occupied the space, their laughter mingling with the music.
Behind the bar, Mae Jackson and Antoine Hall emerged from the kitchen, each balancing a large aluminum pan brimming with food. They placed the pans on the bar’s polished countertop with practiced ease.
“You sure you and Burgess didn’t overdo it?” Antoine teased, flashing his boss a brazen grin.
Mae matches his humor with a soft chuckle. “With everyone down at the hospital for Lenny, it’s the least I could do. Christmas means so much to Esther and her family. And if it were the other way around, I know she would do the same.”
Antoine nodded, but he couldn’t ignore the unspoken weight in Mae’s voice. He knew Shauna’s disappearance was wearing on her, and he also felt the sting of her absence.
Before he could reply, Gus Hewitt enters, stomping the cold from his boots as he approached the bar. “Truck’s out front,” he announces.
Antoine grabs his pan and heads outside while Mae's beau trails to the kitchen, as Mae reached for a serving tray, her phone vibrates.
Glancing at the screen, her heart skipped. She answers swiftly.
“Hi, Grandma,” came Shauna’s voice, soft but unmistakable.
Mae’s relief was instant, but so was her sternness. “Shauna Latrice, where have you been?” Her words landed somewhere between a scolding and a prayer of gratitude.
“I’m safe,” Shauna replies from the plush decorated salon of the yacht where she was staying. Her hand rests on her growing belly, a bittersweet reminder of her situation. “I just wanted to let you know I’m okay.”
Mae ignores the curious glances of nearby customers, her focus entirely on the granddaughter she hadn’t heard from in months. “You need to come home,” she insisted. “You can’t keep running. At least face your husband."
“It’s not that simple, Grandma,” Shauna cut in, her voice wavering. “I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
Before Mae could press further, Antoine re-enters the bar, his eyes immediately drawn to Mae. She mouths; It’s Shauna.
Stopping in his tracks, his expression shifting to one of quiet urgency.
“Oh, Antoine wants to speak to you.”
Shauna’s protest came too late. Antoine’s voice reaches her before she could end the call. “Hey, you,” he said, his tone gentle, “How you doin’?”
There was a pause. When she finally spoke, her words were tight. “I’m fine. I don’t want to keep you.”
Antoine heard the lie in her voice. He wanted to push, to tell her what he’d been holding back. “You’ve been on my mind,” he admits softly. “Ever since that night.”
Shauna quickly steels herself. “I’ve got to go,” she said, her voice trembling. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Antoine whispers as the line goes dead.
Mae returns, noting the pensive look on Antoine’s face. “Is she gone?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, the weight of the conversation settling in his chest. With a lingering sense of unease, he headed back to the kitchen.
RADCLIFFE RECIEVING HOSPITAL
Radcliffe Receiving Hospital was no one’s first choice for celebrating Christmas, but this year had thrown the Saunders- Lockhart families one curveball after another. The waiting room, festooned in holiday decor, offered little cheer to Tanner Lockhart, Louise Saunders Lockhart, Sarah Lynn Saunders, Martha Saunders, and her son SJ.
Normally, they’d be trimming the tree at the farm, not gathered in an oncology ward waiting room. But with Lenny hospitalized indefinitely, they’d decided to bring Christmas to her, even if it meant an unconventional celebration.
A television mounted on the wall played an unrecognizable home renovation show at low volume.
The staff had been kind, letting the family essentially take over the area, given the ward’s low patient count.
Tanner says, breaking the silence, “I still can't believe that for the first time in over a hundred years, this family isn’t trimming the tree at the farm.”
Louise drapes an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Everything about this year has been unexpected,” she murmurs, though her mind lingered on more than Lenny’s illness. She kept those thoughts to herself.
Sitting opposite them, Sarah Lynn Saunders nods, her gaze steady. “Well, that just means we’ll have to celebrate twice as much once Lenny recovers,” she said, her voice firm with hope.
Despite the grim reality of no donor matches yet, Sarah Lynn refused to give up on her granddaughter.
Martha folded her hands in a prayer gesture, nodding in agreement. “From your lips to the Big Man’s ears,” she said with a wistful smile,
SJ sits beside his mother, mirroring her gesture with exaggerated solemnity, drawing chuckles from the women.
“Mama?”
Martha turns to her son, her expression softening. “Yes, my baby boy?”
He looks up at her with innocent eyes. “Do you think if I pray, my dad will call me?”
The room fell silent, the question landing heavily. Martha’s heart sank. Murray had made it clear he’d returned not for SJ, but for her. And when she’d rejected him, he’d walked away again.
She smiles gently, unwilling to let her son bear the weight of adult complications. “Sweetheart,” she began delicately, her voice tender. “How about we go downstairs to the gift shop and get some junk food?”
The almost six-year-old's face lit up. “Okay!” he said eagerly.
Grateful for the reprieve, Martha stood and took his hand. She exchanged a glance with her mother, sister, and niece—a silent acknowledgment of the impossible situation—before leading SJ toward the elevator.
Moments later, the elevator doors slid open, revealing Esther Saunders, her son Steven Sullivan, and his wife, Courtney Covington Sullivan. The three had met in the parking garage and ridden up together. As they stepped into the waiting area, hugs and greetings were exchanged, the somber mood lightening slightly with their arrival.
Esther approaches Steven, her expression serious. “Can I speak to you alone?” she asked quietly.
Steven nods, recognizing the urgency in his mother’s tone. He followed her to a quieter corner of the waiting room, leaving Courtney to join the others.
Courtney surveys the room before settling on Louise. “Where’s Sean? I thought he’d be here.”
Louise sighs, her weariness evident. “You and me both,” she admits. Sean, her former husband with whom she's rekindling a romantic relationship had promised to come, but he’d yet to show. Louise knew the prognosis had hit him hard, but his absence stung, nonetheless.
Courtney places a comforting hand on Louise’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” she said softly, her voice laden with compassion. Louise does her best to believe that, but her mind, however, knew her expectations might not come to fruition.
THE WATERFALL BAR
The emotive vocals of Vanessa Williams fill the bar as her rendition of What Child Is This plays softly, mingling with the murmur of the budding crowd. Sean Lockhart sits in a booth, nursing a beer, his mind heavy with thoughts of Lenny's rapidly progressing cancer. The weight of helplessness seizes him; there’s nothing he can do to save his daughter.
He takes another sip, staring ahead. Across the bar, Tricia Lockhart steps inside, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. She spots Burgess the cook running the bar but pauses when her eyes land on Sean, slouched in his booth. Adjusting her black leather and shearling jacket, she saunters over.
“You look a million miles away,” she remarks, sliding into the seat across from him.
Sean lifts his head, his expression weary. “Hi,” he mutters. “You here to pity your ex-husband?”
“Maybe,” Tricia replies with a faint smirk, setting her handbag on the table. “What’s the latest?”
Sean exhales deeply, then recounts Lenny’s grim prognosis. Each word weighs heavier than the last. Tricia listens, her own memories stirring around Dylan, their son, lost around this time of year. The thought of Sean facing another loss claws at her heart.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asks, her voice soft but steady.
Sean grips the neck of his beer bottle, shaking his head. “Not a damn thing anyone can do. That’s the goddamn problem.”
Tricia recognizes the familiar tone, the same defeated anger she’d heard before. “There is something you can do,” she says firmly.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Get off your ass and go to the hospital. Lenny needs you more than ever. Don’t look back one day and realize you weren’t there for her.”
Sean swigs the beer in his hand, her words cutting through his fog. “After everything that went down between us, you could’ve told me to go to hell.”
“I would’ve—about a year ago,” Tricia admits with a faint smile. “But not now. Take my advice, Sean. And with that, I’m getting takeout—I’ve earned it after playing life coach.”
“Tricia,” he says, his voice rough but sincere, “thanks for saying what I needed to hear. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Sean,” she replies, standing. She struts toward the bar, leaving him with her words.
Moments later, Sean sets his beer down, pushes out of the booth, and heads for the exit, determination replacing despair.
THE CLIFFE
Will Jackson was taking care of last-minute inventory at The Cliffe, making sure everything was in order for the holiday night ahead. The club would be open that evening but closed on Christmas, so he had a few things to finish before heading out. As he surveyed the room, Emma walked in, slamming her purse onto the countertop, clearly frustrated.
"Did they run out of a new outfit at the mall?" Will asked, a smirk forming on his lips as he glanced at her.
The look she gave him, cold and unamused, quickly shut him up. A hip-hop song with a beat too familiar to place plays through the speakers, the rhythm blending into the background. Emma couldn’t even tell who was rapping—honestly, the sound was so common it could’ve been one of fifty artists these days.
She leans against the counter, clearly distracted. "Ever think about something your whole life, and then you find out it's been a lie?"
Will raises an eyebrow, confusion flashing in his eyes. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"
Emma took a deep breath, her voice steady but with disbelief. "You’ll never guess this, but I’m not a Covington. Not biologically, anyway."
Will attempts to process her admission. "Then who's your father?"
Emma let out a small laugh, a bitter edge to it. "My mother had an affair before I was born. It was with Jimmy Saunders."
Will froze for a moment, the shock evident on his face. He had known the farmer briefly as a kid before he passed away.
"Jimmy Saunders? Are you serious?"
"I overheard my mother and Esther talking about it. They were going back and forth about Lenny needing a bone marrow match because it looks like she might not survive."
Will steps closer, concern filling his eyes. "Does Jackie... Jacques know about this?"
Emma shook her head, her eyes downcast. "No, he doesn’t. I don’t even know how I could tell him."
Will gave a small, understanding nod before his expression turned more serious. "If you're related to the Saunders, you might be her only chance to live."
Emma exhales, overwhelmed by everything crashing down around her. "I don’t know if I can handle this."
Will’s tone eases his usual tough exterior cracking. "I get it, Emma. I do. But when it comes to Lenny... this is something you might have to face."
RADCLIFFE RECIEVING HOSPITAL
Esther led Steven down the quiet corridor, they were far from prying eyes, and she glances over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed.
When she turns back to her son, her face set with determination. "I had to tell Deirdre everything," she said.
Steven blinks, the words hitting him like a jolt. "Wait, everything?"
"Everything," Esther clarifies. Her southern drawl thickened with the significance of the confession. "It was a secret we’ve kept for years, Steven, but I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Not when my brother's granddaughter might die."
He took a step back, his expression shifting from shock to frustration. "This was the last thing I expected you to say."
Esther folds her arms, holding her ground. "I couldn’t in good conscience let that girl suffer when Emma might be the key to saving her life. Even if it’s just a two-percent chance, I had to try. I’ll deal with the consequences later."
Steven ran a hand through his blonde hair, his posture stiff as he tried to process the bombshell. "I get why you did it," he admitted, his tone softening. "I wish you would've talked to me first. This... this is huge."
"I know," Esther replies, her voice quieter now. "But there wasn’t time to debate. Lenny doesn't have the time to wait."
Steven shook his head, still struggling with the implications. "Okay, so what's the plan now? Because if you think Deirdre is going to just roll with this. You know how she is—she’ll do anything to protect her reputation."
Esther exhales sharply, her fingers tightening around the strap of her purse. "I don’t know yet. I’ll make sure Deirdre convinces Emma to get tested. And if she doesn’t, I’ll handle it myself."
Before Steven could respond, the sounds of approaching footsteps made them both tense. Courtney appears at the end of the corridor, the heels of her boots clicking rhythmically on the floor. Her curious gaze flickers between her husband and mother-in-law.
"There you two are," she said, her tone light, though there was a subtle edge of suspicion.
She slips her arm through Steven’s and smiles.
Steven returns the smile and replies, "We were just talking about the gifts we’re giving the rest of the family tomorrow."
Esther bit back a sigh. Her son was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them.
Courtney allows the topic to drop, though a touch of suspicion remained in her gaze. She knew there was more to their hushed conversation, but this wasn’t the time or place to press the issue.
Down the hall, in one of the private hospital rooms on the oncology floor, Louise sat beside her daughter, Lenny Lockhart. The sterile scent of the room mixed faintly with the warmth of a miniature Christmas tree perched on a side table. It brings a small measure of comfort to the stark environment.
Lenny lay in the hospital bed, her frail form tucked under a blanket. And her shaven head is covered by a cobalt blue scarf, a bright contrast of color against her hospital gown. Though the infection that once invaded her system had cleared, the cancer still was inside her, weakening her with every passing day. The need for a bone marrow transplant was urgent, but so far, no suitable match had been found.
A framed photo stood next to the Christmas tree: a memory of brighter days. In it, Lenny smiled radiantly at her high school graduation, flanked by her parents and Tanner. Her golden hair cascaded down her back, a far cry from her present reality.
Louise adjusts her protective gown and gloves, her heart aching as she looks at her daughter. “One more day until the big day,” she said with forced cheer, trying to fill the heavy silence. “If there’s anything you want, it might not be too late to get it.”
Lenny manages a faded smile. “The only thing I want isn’t going to happen,” she murmurs.
Louise fought to keep her composure, but the sight of her daughter—so young, yet enduring so much—was a relentless ache in her chest. She reached out and gently squeezed Lenny’s hand. “You should know by now that this family isn’t giving up on you,” she said softly. “Your grandmother is in the chapel praying, and if anyone has pull with God and Santa, it’s her.”
That earned a modest chuckle from Lenny, though the sadness in her eyes lingered. “I just wonder how far those prayers are going to go,” she whispers
Before Louise could respond, the door opened. Elijah Barker steps in, wearing his own protective gear. His expression was a mix of determination and tenderness.
Louise and Elijah exchanged a knowing look—one layered with tension and understanding. She stood, straightening her gown. “I’ll be back later,” she said, her voice tight. She brushed a hand over Lenny’s arm before leaving the room.
The door shuts behind her, and Elijah moved to the side of the bed.
He glances at the Christmas tree and then at Lenny, his features softening. “Most of your family’s in the waiting room,” he said gently. “And Mae is bringing food down from The Waterfall. Trust me, they’re going to find a way to celebrate.”
Lenny lets out a long sigh, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. “Probably the next time everyone gets together is when I die,” she said flatly.
The words hit Elijah like a punch to the gut. He stared at her, momentarily lost for a response.
***
Louise steps out of Lenny's hospital room, her shoulders sagging as she carefully removed her protective gown and gloves. The tension of holding herself together inside the room ebbed slightly, but the weight of her fears lingered.
She deposits the gear in the designated bin, running a hand through her hair as the elevator at the end of the hallway chimed softly.
Sean steps inside, his face etched with weariness and concern. He steps out, adjusting the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder.
“Look, I know there is no excuse as to why...” he said, his voice low but sincere as he approaches.
Before he could say more, Louise closes the distance between them and wrapped him in a tight embrace. She held him close, the strength in her grip betraying the vulnerability she rarely let show. “I’m just glad you’re here,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I’m so scared, Sean."
“We’re not giving up,” he said, his tone steady and resolute. His eyes soften, filled with a mix of determination and regret. “And if you need to lean on me, I can handle it. I know I couldn’t before, but you can now. I promise.”
Tears well in Louise’s eyes, tears she had suppressed in her determination not to show any emotion in front of their daughter. But now, with Sean’s steady presence beside her, the barrier broke just slightly. She managed a grateful smile, finding consolation in his strength.
​
***
Inside the room, Elijah’s expression hardened slightly as he took a step closer to Lenny. “First of all,” he said firmly, “don’t ever talk like that again.”
Lenny blinks, confused by his sudden seriousness. “Why not?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Outside the room, Tanner, Courtney, Steven, Sarah Lynn, Esther, Martha, SJ, Sean, and Louise stood huddled together, peering through the window.
Elijah’s voice softened as he knelt down beside her bed. “Because I don’t want to talk about death or negativity when I do this.”
“Do what?”
From the hallway, Martha’s hand flew to her mouth. “Is he about to do what I think he’s about to do?” she whispers.
Sarah Lynn, standing beside her, nodded knowingly. “He is.”
Back inside, Lenny’s eyes widened as Elijah pulled a ring from his pocket.
The white gold band with baguette diamonds surrounding isinstantly recognizable. “My grandmother’s engagement ring,” she said. “Where did you get that?”
Elijah smiles, his eyes glinting with warmth. “Your grandmother gave it to me,” he explains. “She told me this ring has been through a lot of love and a lot of good and bad times. And I know things are hard right now, but I also know that I love you, Lenny. More than anything.”
As he spoke, the realization dawned on everyone outside. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to joy.
Elijah held her gaze, steady and unwavering. “Lynn Felice Lockhart,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “Please say you’ll marry me.”
For a moment, Lenny was speechless. She blinks back tears and finds the strength to say, “Yes.”
Elijah grins, slipping the ring onto her finger before leaning in to embrace her, careful in his protective gear. She wraps her arms around him, clinging to what he has offered her.
Outside the room, cheers erupted as the family watched the moment unfold.
Louise turns to Sean, who wraps his arm around her shoulders. “This isn’t the Christmas I imagined,”
Even though she had made it no secret of her feelings about the engagement the look on her daughter's face means the world to her especially in this state.
Sean kisses her temple gently. “No, it isn’t. But if anything can bring us together and help us forget our worries, it’s this.”
As the conversation shifts, Esther spoke softly, her tone carrying a hint of hope. “You know, miracles happen. We’ve seen it before, and lord willing we’ll see it again.”
Steven, catching the subtle meaning behind her words glances at her sharply. His reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Courtney, who arches an eyebrow.
But for now, the engagement overshadows everything else. Lenny’s fragile smile was brighter than it had been in months, and for the first time in a long while, the room felt filled with hope instead of fear.
END OF EPISODE
ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF TOWN AND COUNTRY
Max gets an unexpected motivational boost.
Tommy consoles Tanner.
Will persuades Emma to get tested.
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