EPISODE 353
Written by: Bre L Drew
July 28, 2025
Last Time on Town and Country
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After years of denying it to herself, Tanner finally admits her true feelings to Tommy. Despite his marriage to Jordan and her own relationship with Presley, the two decide to move forward with an emotional affair.
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Max and Shauna choose to remain together despite Shauna’s one-night stand with Antoine, which resulted in the birth of Baby Keri. Though Antoine is the biological father, they decide—for the sake of their marriage and family—to let everyone believe Max is the father, with only Samuel and Martha knowing the truth.
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Jordan remains determined to salvage her marriage to Tommy, unwilling to give up on the life they built together.
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In a moment of emotional closeness, Courtney shares a hug with Jacques, just as Tommy walks in and sees it.
HOME FARM
Taking advantage of the warm summer weekday evening, the younger generation of the Covington family—Max, his wife Shauna, and their sister-in-law Jordan—occupy the pool area at the Home Farm estate. The scent of smoked meat drifts from the grill, blending with the sound of “Leave Me Alone” by Renée Rapp playing through the outdoor speakers and making the environment even more relaxed.
Shauna walks over to Max, who’s working the grill. “Well, I must say I’m impressed, Mr. Covington,” she teases.
Max flashes a grin as he flips a swordfish steak over the flames. “My good looks or my heroism?”
Shauna smirks. “More like I never knew you could hold it down on the grill. These swordfish and steaks look bomb.”
With a quick, playful move, Max wraps his arms around her waist. She’s in a black one-piece bathing suit, and the way he looks at her says more than words.
“And I might add, Mrs. Covington, how amazing you look.”
Shauna lowers her gaze, then looks up at him modestly. “I don’t know about all that… but I wouldn’t mind hearing it.”
Max softens. “I think after everything we’ve been through the last few months—”
Shauna cuts in, her tone quieter. “The fact that I hid the truth about everything…”
Max hushes her, brushing a hand across her cheek. “Look, I’m not saying I’m completely over it. But when I became that little girl’s father, and we chose to work on us, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.”
The two share a slow, passionate kiss, the kind that speaks of pain endured and love reclaimed.
Just then, a voice calls out, cutting through the moment. “Is this where the party is?”
They break the kiss, still wrapped in each other’s arms, as Martha Saunders approaches with her son, SJ, in tow. Light laughter and greetings follow, folding into the mood of the evening as new energy joins the poolside gathering.
Concurrently, Tommy Covington pulls into the long drive of the estate, having just left the office. A text from his brother about an impromptu barbecue had steered him here rather than home. He hasn’t changed—still in his work clothes—though his dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves casually rolled, and his blazer and bag remain in the car.
As he steps into the backyard, the scent of grilled food and the hum of pop-rock music greet him. So does the unmistakable sight of his wife, Jordan, rising from the pool. Water glistens off her magenta-pink bikini as she brushes her damp blonde hair off her shoulders.
Tommy’s eyes land on her and linger. Despite the sincere feelings he still harbors for Tanner, he can’t deny the physical pull toward Jordan—the familiarity of her body. It had been years since they’d been intimate, but her figure remained undeniably striking.
Jordan catches him watching. A small smile plays at her lips as she lifts a hand in a casual wave, her gaze holding his.
There’s a flicker of something between them—tentative, but present—a brief return to something once vaguely familiar.
Tommy gives a subtle nod in return, unsure what to make of the moment… but not entirely ready to dismiss it either.
MCKNIGHT RESIDENCE
Presley McKnight shuts the refrigerator door with a soft thud, a chilled bottle of water in hand. He has just returned to the rectory after a full day of work at the church, but the sudden chime of the doorbell shatters the calm.
He turns toward the front of the house, frowning. He isn’t expecting anyone. It’s probably someone with the wrong address or a solicitor. Still, something urges him forward, the persistent ring echoing through the house.
When he reaches the front window and peers through the lace curtain, standing at the door is Tanner Lockhart.
He hasn’t seen her since the day of her sister’s wedding—weeks ago—when they argued. She had confessed unresolved feelings for Tommy.
Presley opens the door slowly.
“Hi, Presley,” Tanner greets softly.
He blinks, caught off guard. “Uh… hi.”
She stands on the porch in a dark blue short-sleeve button-front blouse and white wide-leg pants, flats on her feet. Her hair is pulled back into a simple, tidy ponytail. A modest purse hangs from her shoulder, and she holds it in front of her with both hands, like it’s something to anchor herself.
Whatever has been left unsaid between them is about to be said. That much is clear.
“I think you should come in,” he says after a moment.
She nods and steps inside without hesitation. The atmosphere between them shifts immediately, dense with anticipation.
He closes the door behind her, and for a moment, neither of them speaks.
Tanner turns to face him, her eyes steady. “I don’t mean to sound like a cliché,” she begins, her voice low but firm, “but we need to talk.”
HOPE COTTAGE
Courtney Covington Sullivan makes the familiar turn of her black Lexus sedan onto the quiet street, one lined with newly built two-story cottages that have risen steadily over the last several years. It’s evening, but summer still lingers, the sun hanging just high enough to bathe the neighborhood in warm, golden light.
The weather, however, is the furthest thing from her mind.
As she pulls into the driveway and shifts the car into park, her thoughts drift back to an earlier part of that day, specifically to her conversation with Jacques.
They’d been confiding in one another about their personal lives when, unexpectedly, she embraced him. It was brief, nothing overtly intimate, yet it felt good, comforting in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time. The physicality of it, innocent as it was, lingers longer than she expected.
She’s still staring out through the windshield, replaying that moment, when a sudden knock on the window startles her.
She turns to see her husband, Steven Sullivan, standing just outside. She rolls down the window.
“Hey,” she says casually.
“Hey, yourself. Whatever was on your mind must’ve been heavy. I had to knock like six times,” he says with a wry smile, though there’s concern in his eyes.
Steven, still tall and handsome, wears a dark blue button-down shirt, charcoal slacks, and stylish but comfortable dress shoes. He studies her for a moment. “You okay?” he asks gently.
Courtney deflects. “How was your day?” she asks, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind her. His SUV is parked just behind her Lexus.
“Probably not as eventful as yours,” Steven replies. “I was out at the Jessup horse farm most of the afternoon. One of the horses had a nasty hoof injury.”
“Poor thing,” Courtney says as they walk toward the house.
He nods. “Managed to treat it, though.”
She unlocks the front door, and they step inside. The door shuts behind them.
Almost instantly, the sound of running water echoes from upstairs.
They freeze, exchanging a look, confused, on edge.
Steven instinctively steps forward. “Stay downstairs,” he tells Courtney, voice low but firm.
She places her briefcase on the end table, ignoring her husband’s command as she follows behind him.
They ascend together, tension rising with each step.
HOME FARM
Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us” pulses from the speakers, bringing a casual yet fresh energy to the barbecue. Poolside, Shauna and Martha sit side by side, legs stretched out, the sun warming their skin.
“Anyway,” Martha begins, adjusting her sunglasses and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “how is my beautiful goddaughter doing?”
Shauna’s face lights up. “She’s still amazing,” she says with a proud smile. “Though she’s at that age now where she’s not just sleeping through the night like she did when she was a newborn.”
Martha nods knowingly. “Oh yeah, I remember it well. But other than that, it sounds like things are still good—with her and with you and Max?”
Martha is one of the few people who knew the truth about Shauna and Antoine’s one-night stand—and the fact that Antoine is Keri’s biological father. She had been sworn to secrecy, not even allowed to tell Antoine.
“We couldn’t be better,” Shauna says, her tone light. Then, deliberately, she shifts the conversation. “So, how are you?”
Martha kicks her feet into the water, the sunlight glinting off its surface. “Oh, you know me. I’m a work in progress.”
Shauna turns toward her. “Just so you know, Samuel was invited—but he had a late shift at the hospital.”
Martha’s expression doesn’t change. She shrugs, her voice steady. “Wouldn’t have mattered. I’m moving on.”
Shauna knows her friend too well not to catch the subtext—and with recent developments, she suspects even more. “Are you moving on with someone specifically?”
A sudden flash of memory hits her: Martha and Will dancing closely at Lenny and Elijah’s wedding.
Alarmed, Shauna blurts out, “Please, God—please don’t tell me you and my uncle are considering hooking up?”
Martha remains calm but firm, dismissing Shauna’s concern with a slow shake of her head. “He’s not who he used to be, and anyway, we’re two single adults. We can do what we want.”
Shauna falls silent, processing that. She still remembers her own trauma—being kidnapped by Will’s former cellmate—and the shadow his criminal past had once cast over her life.
“Well,” she finally says, “more power to you then.”
Just then, SJ runs past them and launches himself into the pool with a loud, “Cannonball!”
Water splashes everywhere, soaking both women. Shauna squeals in surprise. Martha yelps. And then they both burst into laughter.
Tommy sits at the outdoor table, tossing a few pretzels into his mouth between sips of beer, observing what's going on around him.
Then Jordan steps into view, radiant in her magenta bikini, with confidence in every step.
Tommy is visibly caught off guard. Despite everything, he still finds her incredibly attractive.
“What?” she teases with a smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re bashful about seeing your wife in a bikini?”
Tommy shifts in his seat, diverting with a question. “Where’s Jeremy?”
She replies lightly, “He and Keri are at our place. Lilith’s with them—she’s bringing them out here soon.”
She moves behind him, her hands finding his shoulders, gently kneading them.
He remains silent for a moment, then murmurs, “I needed this.”
She smiles, pleased. She hopes this is a turning point—proof that there’s more to their marriage than obligation or routine.
Tommy, though, is elsewhere in his mind.
A flicker of memory: his and his father’s plan to oust Jacques from the company.
“You’re tense,” Jordan notes, her fingers pausing slightly.
Tommy lies—just enough to deflect. “Just work stuff, that’s all.”
But it's not just work. His mind replays Tanner’s recent confession—that she still cares. That emotional breakthrough still sits raw and unresolved beneath his surface.
Jordan, picking up on the mood, tries to lighten it. “How about a swim before we eat?”
Tommy exhales, as if trying to release the weight off his chest. “Sure. Why not?”
She gives him a knowing smile, subtle but intentional. She reads his body language well—she knows he still wants her, even if emotionally, he’s pulling back.
HOPE COTTAGE
Steven reaches the top of the stairs and turns—only to find Courtney silently right behind him. He flinches slightly, startled.
She raises her eyebrows. “You really thought I was going to stay downstairs?”
Steven exhales and heads to the hallway closet. He retrieves the first thing within reach—a pickleball paddle.
Courtney gives him a skeptical look. “Really?”
He shrugs, gripping it like a weapon. “It's better than nothing.”
Their attention shifts as they both spot something on the floor—clothing, strewn carelessly just outside the bathroom door.
The sound of running water is unmistakable, still coming from inside.
Courtney lowers her voice. “Do you think somebody broke in?”
“Only one way to find out,” Steven replies.
He glances at her. “Call 911,” he whispers.
Courtney reaches for her phone as Steven edges closer to the door, paddle raised.
Suddenly, the water shuts off.
Seconds later, the bathroom door creaks open.
Steven tenses, ready to strike—
But instead of an intruder, a startled teenage boy with sandy brown hair steps out, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel.
Everyone freezes.
There’s a second of confused recognition.
Steven lowers the racket. “Evan?”
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“What are you doing here?” Courtney queries
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Evan Sullivan blinks at them both. “Hi, Dad. Hi, Courtney. Didn’t mean to freak y'all out.”
He remains standing across from them.
Steven lowers the paddle, still processing the surprise. “You were supposed to be here in two weeks,” he says slowly. “Did I get my wires crossed on the dates?”
Evan winces, adjusting the towel around his waist. “Yeah, well… the thing about that is—I kind of moved the timeline up.”
Steven and his former wife, Lorraine, had arranged for their teenage son to come live here. Evan didn’t want to move to Boston from Orlando with Lorraine and her new husband, Emilio, who had both recently accepted positions at a performing arts conservatory.
Courtney crosses her arms. “Does your mother know you’re here?”
Evan hesitates. “I was gonna text her… after I got myself together.”
Steven frowns. “Evan…”
“Look,” Evan cuts in quickly, “Emilio surprised her with a honeymoon trip to Mexico. As soon as they left for the airport, I booked a flight. Got in this afternoon.”
Steven sighs. “So, you just up and left?”
Evan shrugs. “Yeah. I was leaving there anyway. Don’t think a few weeks is gonna make much of a difference.”
Courtney studies him—restless, defiant, but underneath it all, tired.
There’s something in his eyes that tugs at her, a familiar streak she recognizes from Tommy at that age: impulsive, emotional, searching.
She narrows her gaze. “How’d you even get in?”
Evan folds his arms. “I found the spare key under the mat.”
Courtney whirls on Steven. “I told you keeping it there was a terrible idea.”
Steven lifts a hand, conceding the point.
He turns back to Evan. “Okay. For tonight, you don’t have to tell your mother. But tomorrow morning, you call her. No texts. Understood?”
Evan nods, then unexpectedly steps forward and wraps his arms around his father.
Steven, caught off guard, slowly returns the hug. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Yeah. Good to see you too, Dad.” Evan says quietly.
Courtney stands nearby, watching them. Processing. The weight of what just happened lingers in the air—a new reality settling in, one she hadn’t quite been prepared for.
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​The two remain standing in the foyer of the rectory. Presley, still holding his bottle of water, gestures with it slightly. “Do you want anything to drink? Iced tea, soda, or water?”
Tanner gently shakes her head. “No, thanks."
Presley nods, then sets his water down on the console table near the wall. The quiet between them stretches a little too long before Tanner speaks again, her tone more serious now. “We need to talk.”
Presley sighs and offers, “I’m sorry for not responding to your calls or texts, but—”
“I understand,” she says, cutting him off softly.
She reflects in silence for a moment, her thoughts circling back to that kiss with Tommy at the wedding reception. The moment she let her guard down and admitted feelings she had tried to bury. Feelings that crossed a line—especially considering Tommy is married to Jordan, Presley’s sister—even if it isn’t a traditional kind of love between them.
Presley studies her, sensing the heaviness in the air. “I’m sorry for my part in what’s happening between us.”
“You don’t have to be,” Tanner replies. “But… I’m sorry too. For my part in the tension. For not being honest sooner.
For… admitting my feelings when I wasn’t even sure what they meant.”
They both fall quiet again.
“We’ve been avoiding each other,” Tanner finally says, “because we both knew this was coming.”
Presley exhales, bracing himself. Deep down, he knows where this is heading.
“I need you to know,” Tanner begins, her voice tight with emotion, “this relationship—it meant so much to me. You gave me something I didn’t think I could have again. A second chance at love. You never pressured me for anything. You waited until I was ready, and you made it special. You were always attentive, always respectful. I’ll always value what you gave me when we were together."
“I suppose it's too late for me for us to start over …” he begins, his voice low.
But Tanner gently interrupts, “It wouldn’t be fair to me, and not to you.
The truth is… our relationship has been distant for a while now. We’ve both felt it but didn't want to acknowledge it.”
Presley nods slowly. “I don’t regret any of it.”
“Neither do I,” Tanner replies with a faint smile.
She steps forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze before turning toward the door. Without another word, she walks out.
Presley closes the door behind her. Then, slowly, he steps away, the silence of the house wrapping around him as he tries to process this latest life development.
END OF EPISODE
ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF TOWN AND COUNTRY
Steven attempts to reconnect with Evan.
Courtney confides in Jacques.
Tommy surprises Tanner.
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MCKNIGHT RESIDENCE