EPISODE 323
Written by Bre L Drew
December 19, 2024
Last Time on Town and Country
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Sean and Louise were stunned when Elijah asked for their permission to marry Lenny. While Sean gave his blessing, Louise was less receptive.
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Esther was heartbroken to hear that Lenny believes she won’t survive until 2025, as the search for a bone marrow match has been unsuccessful.
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Jacques realized that in his pursuit of corporate success, he had begun neglecting Emma. Determined to make amends, he started to refocus on their relationship. Meanwhile, tensions between Will and Emma have begun to ease after earlier events in the year.
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The DNA test results confirmed that Joel is Skye’s father. Following this, Joel decided they should go to Houston to explain the situation to Skye’s maternal grandmother.
HOME FARM
Jacques Laurent gazes intently at his wife through the mirror of their luxurious bedroom, nestled within her family’s palatial mansion on Home Farm Estate.
His eyes linger on how the black leather pants perfectly hug her curves, and how her fully made-up face radiated the same beauty as when they first met in Europe all those years ago.
Moving up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, catching her off guard. She was startled but smiled warmly at his embrace.
“Oh? Where is this coming from?” Emma Covington Laurent teased, her voice light and playful.
The sexy and suave Frenchman, impeccably dressed in a dark tailored suit, sighs with affection. “Is it a crime to adore my incredibly gorgeous wife?” he murmured in that familiar accent, pressing his lips gently to her neck.
“Does it take precedence over work?” the businesswoman teases, arching an eyebrow as her tone turns mock-serious.
By now, Jacques let his hands fall away slowly, a reluctant retreat. Lately, his dedication—some would say over-commitment—to his position at the Covington Group had created tension between them, though he had been trying to remedy things.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he reasons, his voice softer now. “Instead of heading into the office early, I’m here. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
Emma feigns deep thought, tapping a manicured finger against her chin before nodding playfully.
“Okay, okay,” Jacques relented with a smirk, stepping back. “Let’s just say someone made me realize I need to step back sometimes... to remember what really matters. I admit I lost sight of that.” He paused, his gaze meeting hers through the mirror. “So, what’s on your agenda today?”
Emma reaches for her fur coat and purse. “Believe it or not, I’ve got some Christmas shopping to do—and I need to catch up on some work at the club.”
“Am I on that shopping list, by any chance?”
Emma chuckles, stepping close to grab his face between her hands, and smirks mischievously. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she teases, winking as she turns away.
Their kiss was anything but brief—passionate enough to linger on his mind even as she pulled away and waved him off.
Watching her leave, the shipping scion almost forgot the shadows that loomed over their marriage, the secrets that threatened its facade.
FRANKLIN FARM: MAIN HOUSE
"Well, you have to admit, that's the most selfless thing anyone could do, especially given the circumstances," Sarah Lynn Saunders said, her voice hinting with admiration.
The Saunders matriarch sat at the kitchen table alongside her eldest daughter, that daughter’s former husband-turned-rekindled beau, and her sister-in-law occupy the cozy kitchen of the main house on Franklin Farm with the rich aroma of coffee this morning as Sean and Louise filled them in about Elijah’s visit. The young man had asked for Lenny’s hand in marriage despite her being hospitalized due to the effects of her acute myeloid leukemia.
Louise Saunders Lockhart seated across from Sarah Lynn, lifted her coffee mug, her expression contemplative. “It just caught me off guard, that’s all. With everything Lenny has been through this past year, a marriage proposal was the last thing I expected. I just—” She stops, hesitant to voice her fears.
“It knocked me back too,” Sean Lockhart admits, taking a hearty sip of coffee. “But if it can lift our little girl’s spirits, who am I to stand in the way? It’s not like they’re getting married while she’s still in the hospital.”
Louise nods but adds, “I just want Lenny to have a future."
Esther Saunders, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke, her voice measured. “I stopped by the hospital the other day to see Lenny. I’ve never seen her so...discouraged like she was giving up on living.”
Louise sighs. “Hopefully, she’ll come around, Aunt Esther."
Esther shook her head, her tone firm. “It’s going to take something big to pull her out of that. Maybe Elijah’s proposal will do it. I don’t know. But something’s gotta give.”
The older woman’s thoughts drifted to her great-niece’s conviction that no donor match would be found. Everyone in the family had been tested with no success, and the same nagging suspicion began creeping into her mind.
Sarah Lynn sips her coffee and says softly, “We just have to pray a donor is found somehow.”
Without a word, Esther rose to her feet. “I need to take care of something. I’ll see y’all later.”
The blonde, petite, well-bosomed woman made her way out of the kitchen, causing the rest of her family to exchange knowing glances, silently wondering what she was up to.
JOJO'S CAFE
Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things
Luther Vandross' smooth jazz rendition of My Favorite Things drifts through the steadily populated Jojo's Café. The inviting surroundings contrasted sharply with the chilly gray morning outside, where pedestrians bustled with last-minute shopping, and children, freed from school for two weeks, partake in the festive energy.
Inside, Elijah Barker sits across from his parents, the consequence of their silence pressing on him. His fingers tapped nervously against the side of his plastic cup containing the half-amount of Cola, he had just told them about his plan to propose to Lenny, hoping they’d see his intentions for what they were: a way to give her hope when she needed it most.
Instead, they looked at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief.
“Elijah,” his mother, Brynn Barker finally said, her voice soft but edged with worry. “We know you love Lynn, and our hearts go out to her, truly. But do you think this is the right thing to do?”
The copper-red-haired woman is wearing a green satin popover blouse with dark slacks.
Nathaniel Barker clears his throat. “What your mother means is… have you thought about what happens if this doesn’t go the way you’re hoping?”
Elijah stiffens, his gaze narrowing. “What do you mean?”
Nathaniel’s expression tightens. “You’ve been sober for years, and we’re so proud of that. But if Lenny doesn’t survive, son…” He wavers, his voice lowering. “How will you handle that? You know what I’m talking about.”
Elijah’s grip on his cup tightens. The implication stung, but he swallowed his frustration. “I haven’t touched a drink in years, Dad."
Brynn’s fingers wrapped around her peppermint tea as she shook her head lightly. “Marriage is a huge commitment,
Elijah,” she said gently. “And you’re only 22 years old. You’re in your first year of law school. That’s already a lot to take on without…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely, as though the weight of Lenny’s illness went without saying.
Brynn presses her lips together, her hesitation clear. She glances at Nathaniel, leans back in his chair, sharing the same doubt. “I still can’t understand why Sean would agree to this,” the high school principal murmurs. "Then again look at his track record," she adds.
The young man had gone to Sean and Louise to ask for Lenny's hand in her marriage, and despite Louise's hesitance, Sean gave him the go-ahead.
"Look, I’m not planning to marry her at her bedside—she needs all her strength to fight right now. But if proposing can give Lenny even a little hope while she battles cancer, then I’m going to do it. No questions asked." Elijah states vehemently
Brynn and Nathaniel turn to each other, both clearly with worried looks.
Simultaneously in better spirits, Joel Friendly and Skye Park stepped into the warm bustle of Jojo's Café.
“Of all the food places at the airport, we decided to come here,” Skye remarks, her tone wry but amused.
The sixteen-year-old wore a black velvet-tailed coat over a t-shirt and jeans, a striking contrast to her newly natural brown hair, now free of the pink dye she’d had for months.
“Those places don’t have coffee as good as Jojo’s,” Joel said with a grin.
“And besides, I think we could use some more time to get to know each other.”
The pair chose a table near the café’s center. Joel pulled out a chair for Skye, who sat down with a quiet nod of thanks.
“You know,” Joel began as he settled across from her, “I really enjoyed our time in Houston. Getting to know your grandmother—she’s an incredible woman.”
“That she is,” Skye replies, a soft smile plays on her lips.
The two had just returned from Texas about forty-five minutes ago. Skye had run away to Radcliffe to confront Joel and reveal the truth—that he was her father. It was a secret her late mother, Eleanor, had kept hidden since their days as missionaries together.
“I’m so glad you decided to come live here with me,” Joel said, his voice warm. “But if you’re feeling like you’re abandoning your grandmother…”
Skye raises a hand to gently cut him off, her expression calm but resolute. “I love my grandma, and I’ll miss her like crazy. I’ll miss my friends too. But it’s time she gets to live her life without worrying about me. Her sister and the rest of the family will be checking in on her. You’re not regretting asking me to live with you, are you?”
Joel shook his head immediately, his expression softening. “Absolutely not,” he assured her. “So, how about I go get those drinks?”
Skye gave him a faint smirk, leaning back in her chair. “Make mine a mocha.”
“Coming right up,” the reverend replies, rising from his seat with a small laugh, and heading toward the counter as Skye watches him go.
THE CLIFFE
The clicking of Emma's boots on the floor as she saunters into the nightclub, she owns soon spots Will Jackson behind the bar chatting with a pretty light-skinned Black woman with braids in a delivery uniform. Her former lover laughs as he quickly signs his name onto the tablet, who then laughs herself.
Emma decides to go over as she places her purse on the countertop. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?"
"Nah, she was just deliverin' stuff," Will tells her.
​
"See ya later and have a good holiday!" the delivery woman says mostly to Will as she takes off.
Emma waits until she leaves before responding to her former lover. "So you two seem rather close? Anything going on between you and her?"
Will places his hands on his hips and shakes his head with a snicker. "Nah, I was just bein' friendly. Why?"
"So, you aren't seeing anyone?"
Will doesn't hide his curiosity as to why his ex is asking him this. "Between here and helpin' out at the farm I ain't had much time and anyway if I was, I wouldn't do it to fill some sorta void."
Emma raised her head at the remark, her eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing a subtle jab. “Whoa, was that a shot at me?”
Despite everything—their breakup caused by her affair with Jacques and her impulsive elopement in Puerto Rico to keep him in the country—she had thought they’d managed to remain civil.
“No,” Will replies, shaking his head firmly.
Emma let the tension settle before deciding to shift the conversation. “So, how’s everything going?”
Will picks up an unopened box from the counter and sets it on the top of the bar. “The Saunders are still goin’ through it.”
Emma tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know I don’t know them all that well, but the few times I’ve been out to the farm… I don’t know.” She pauses, searching for the right words. “There’s always been this sense of warmth.
Will nodded, watching her with a flicker of understanding. “Well, they deserve a break. ‘Cause it ain’t lookin’ good for Lenny.”
“Hopefully, it does,” Emma said softly, her tone neutral but genuine.
With that, she turned and made her way up the staircase toward her office. Will watched her for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, before turning back to the task at hand. “Anyway, I should catch up on some work upstairs.
Will watches her for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, before turning back to the task at hand.
JOJO'S CAFE
Miley Cyrus’ version of Sleigh Ride filled the café as Nathaniel and Brynn continues discussing their son’s gesture. Elijah had left, unable to continue the conversation.
“Are we really being that unreasonable, Nathaniel?” Brynn asked, shaking her head. “I like Lynn, and my heart breaks for her, but I don't know."
The English literature professor sighs, watching the tendrils of steam rise from his coffee. “We’re going to have to let this play out, Brynn. But whatever happens, we need to be there for him.”
Before Brynn could respond, she noticed Joel and an Asian teenager approach their table. The girl’s black velvet-tailed coat made her stood out.
“Nathaniel, Brynn, sorry to interrupt,” Joel said, offering a benevolent smile.
“Hello, Joel,” Nathaniel replies, shaking his hand.
Despite the Barkers not being particularly religious, living in a town like Radcliffe meant you were bound to know everyone.
“Skye, this is Brynn and Nathaniel Barker,” Joel said, gesturing toward the couple. “Brynn is the principal of the high school. Brynn, Nathaniel—this is my daughter.”
The statement left the husband and wife somewhat stunned, startled by the revelation that the minister had a daughter—a fact they had never known until now.
Brynn folded her arms, puzzled. She had assumed Skye was a new parishioner or a foster child Joel had taken in. “Is there something we can help you with?” she asks.
Joel nods. “Actually, yes. Would it be too late to get her into school?”
"School is out for the holiday break, but after the New Year, I can help with her registration," Brynn said.
“Thank you,” Joel said gratefully.
“Yeah, thanks,” Skye adds softly.
Sensing he’d interrupted their discussion, Joel excused himself. “We’ll let you get back to it. See you in the new year—and please, give Elijah my best.”
Back at their table, Skye asks, “Who’s Elijah?”
"He's their son," Joel explained. "Unfortunately, his girlfriend has leukemia. I've known her and her family for years—her late great-grandmother was a member of the church. They still haven't found a bone marrow donor for her, and it's been hard on all of them. She's only a few years older than you."
“That’s rough,” Skye said sympathetically.
“It is,” Joel agreed. Then, shifting the topic, he asked, “How about we hit the mall for some Christmas shopping? Unless you’re too tired?”
"Don't forget to breathe. We'll make time for everything. I'm not going anywhere," Skye said reassuringly.
Joel chuckles. “You’re a pretty smart kid.”
“I get that a lot,” she replies with a smirk, reaching for her mocha.
HOME FARM
In her black leather trench coat, Esther pressed the doorbell and stepped back, her posture stiff as she fought to mask her disdain for being anywhere near this property though the biting cold was the least of her concerns.
Moments after the grand chime echoes through the air, the door opened to reveal a tall, stout white woman who appeared to be in her late fifties. Her mousy brown hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her strong features conveying authority.
“Yes?” the housekeeper asked curtly, her tone making it clear that no one got past this threshold without good reason.
“Hello, I need to speak with Deirdre Covington,” Esther replies, her voice light and colorful. “We’re... old acquaintances.”
The housekeeper, who had likely only been employed a few months, hesitated but finally stepped aside. “Come in.”
As the woman called out for Deirdre, Esther stepped into the foyer, her eyes drifting over the meticulously decorated interior. A towering Christmas tree dominated the space, its branches heavy with expensive, gleaming ornaments.
“May I take your coat?” the housekeeper asked, turning to her.
“That won’t be necessary,” Esther replied smoothly, shaking her head. “I won’t be staying long, darling.”
The faint sound of footsteps descending the grand staircase drew their attention as Deirdre Covington appeared in her signature short red hair flawlessly styled, dressed in a beige Donna Karan V-neck jacket dress paired with matching pumps.
“Yes, Gertrude?” Deirdre asked, her voice calm and expectant.
The housekeeper glances at Esther, then back at Deirdre. “Someone is here to see you.”
Deirdre’s sharp gaze settled on the petite blonde standing a few feet away. Though she quickly composed herself, a flicker of surprise betrayed her thoughts. It had been years since Esther Saunders had been inside this house, and certainly not by invitation.
“I’ll take it from here, Gertrude. Thank you.”
The housekeeper nods and disappears into the kitchen, leaving the two women alone in the living room.
Deirdre crosses her arms over her chest, her expression cool and guarded. “Well? What brings you here, Esther?”
“Look, I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
“Esther,” Deirdre replies, her voice carries an undercurrent of skepticism, “You make it sound like someone is dying.”
The words landed with unintentional weight. Esther’s expression falters, the lightness in her demeanor replaced by something far heavier. Deirdre’s eyes narrowed as realization dawned.
“I didn’t mean—” Deirdre stars, but Esther interrupts.
“Actually, that’s exactly why I’m here,” she said quietly, her voice steady but burdened with emotion.
Deirdre frowns, her confusion evident. “What are you talking about?”
Esther hesitates, glancing at her feet before meeting Deirdre’s gaze. Her eyes softened, showing a vulnerability that seemed out of place for the woman Deirdre had once known. “Because, like it or not, Emma might be the only one who can help Lenny.”
Deirdre’s shock was immediate, her brow furrowing trying to piece together what Esther was implying.
​
END OF EPISODE
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ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF TOWN AND COUNTRY
Deirdre is blindsided.
Tanner pampers Lenny.
Elijah is grateful for Sarah Lynn's gesture.
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