Type: Romantic
Show: Hallmark’s The Way Home
Featured Characters: Kat Landry and Elliot Augustine
Hallmark romances are a dime a dozen. But there’s something special about Kat Landry and Elliot Augustine, the complicated duo on the network’s time-travel-meets-family-drama The Way Home. The lifelong childhood friends were once pulled apart by adulthood, messy decisions, and — unknown to Kat — Elliot’s knowledge of the future, courtesy of a friendship with Kat’s future daughter. When they reunite as adults, nearly twenty years later, their closeness remains, and a new spark ignites. Still, they’ve both got a lot of growing to do, and it’s complicated and raw, yet ultimately heartwarming to watch.
Kat and Elliot’s Relationship Is Built on Understanding
When we first meet Kat (Chyler Leigh), she’s at a major low point: newly divorced, newly out of a job, and newly living with her estranged mother and rebellious daughter. Not to mention, of course, dealing with the decades-old traumatic memories that being back in Port Haven brings up. But the second she sees and recognizes Elliot (Evan Williams), she positively lights up. It takes next to no time for her to start leaning on him. Literally, by the second episode, she’s resting her head on his shoulder — an “old habit,” as she calls it — while she vents her worries. It’s instinct for him to read her nerves and reach for her fidgeting hand during a painful moment. It’s equally instinctive for her to take it without a second thought.
The entire show is about the blurred line between past and present. It’s not surprising, then, that the unfolding of their relationship is, too. In the early episodes, Kat and Elliot’s shorthand is clear. They have a lived-in warmth, sliding easily into the old intimacy of their youthful friendship. Deliberate nostalgia suffuses many of those interactions, and some are even intercut with flashbacks. A scene of them as adults singing along in the car to Sister Hazel’s “All for You” is soon followed by a flashback of teen Kat and Elliot screaming the same song on the dance floor of a party. A sequence where they chaperone a school dance — and slow dance, of course — features Kat teasing Elliot about how he never went to dances when they were teens, to which he responds, “I don’t think teenage Elliot could have handled a slow dance with you.”
It’s a delicate balance, this childhood-friends-to-lovers arc. Season 1 walks a fine line between Elliot’s lifelong torch for Kat and ensuring he doesn’t come across as, well, a little pathetic. That’s why it’s important that their romance truly takes hold when they can be themselves, here and now, not just looking back. When Kat confesses to Elliot that she feels the chemistry between them, the obvious outcome would be a big kiss. Instead, Elliot zigs where we expect him to zag, with a line (impeccably delivered by Williams) out of a romance book:
“I’ve been waiting a long, long time to kiss you, Kat Landry. And when I do, it’s gonna be perfect.”
And he walks away, smirking. It’s a fabulous writing choice that gives Elliot more agency and keeps him from seeming desperate. It’s Kat, in fact, who initiates their first kiss an episode later — and damn, it is a good kiss. If all you know of Hallmark is soft, chaste smooches as the credits roll, you are not prepared for Kat and Elliot. There’s a sunset, a jacket-sharing move that echoes an earlier scene between Kat’s parents, and a lengthy kiss that actually gets pretty heated. These characters don’t just “like” each other; they want each other.
For about an episode and a half, they’re adorable. Kat is reaching the apex of her time-travel investigations into her brother’s disappearance and father’s death. She’s, understandably, very emotionally vulnerable, and Elliot’s support of her is painfully tender, full of fireside cuddles and forehead kisses. But then, the big bombshell drops. Kat, on a trip in the past, was technically responsible for her father’s death. It shatters her, and, as always, Elliot is there to help her pick up the pieces. And yet, he finally reaches the end of his rope. He’s borne the burden of knowing the future for nearly 25 years, and now, he’s hurt, but he’s also — maybe — free.
It’s a credit to the writers and Leigh and Williams that the breakup scene is so devastating. The biggest obstacle to their being together isn’t them loving each other. Once their feelings are out in the open, there’s no doubt that the love is there and always will be. They’re soulmates — of course, they are. The obstacle is them being able to let go of — or at least live with — the hurt of the past.
Struggling to Find Their Way Home to Each Other
When we rejoin the story in Season 2, seven months later, Kat and Elliot are distanced and at odds. The tug between them, though, is still instinctive, and everyone in their lives can see it. It takes less than one episode for them to wind up furiously making out in yet another scene that’s on the saucy side for Hallmark. This season, though, digs much deeper into their traumas — Elliot’s, in particular.
The slow deconstruction of Elliot’s archetype is messy and hard to watch but also beautiful to see. Further flashbacks reveal his relationship with his abusive father, as well as his surrogate-father relationship with Colton Landry and the great regret of his life: his selfish decision to try to change the future at the ill-fated Lingermore party. A lesser show would have kept up the “joke” of Elliot, in every time period, being the “Giles” figure as he identifies himself early on. He’d always be the helper, the sidekick, waiting with a quip and a useful idea. Instead, The Way Home peels back the layers of just how much it costs him to be “that guy.”
I recognize that kind of person a little too well. You find your place in being the unflappable, dependable one with all the answers. You bury the grief of the missed opportunities in your life — after all, you’re doing it for a good reason. But deep down, you fear the day when you can’t be strong anymore, when you don’t have the answers, when you make a mistake, or when you need space to deal with your own pain. You fear it because, if you’re temporarily not useful, will these people you love turn on you and call you selfish — when really, you just need a pause to recharge from the toll that being selfless takes?
While Elliot deals with grief, works through trauma, and learns to speak up for his own needs, he gets criticized by the Landrys he loves (and by viewers). It doesn’t always make him likeable, but it makes him lovable because it makes him more real. And that, in turn, takes Kat and Elliot’s relationship out of the realm of the “trope”-y and into the realm of reality. It’s something, I would say, that’s even more romantic because it’s challenging and earned. Even when they’re angry with each other, though, they never stop being there for each other — a supportive word here, a fierce, weepy hug there.
During that same season, Kat gets a new potential love interest in the form of the dashing, morally-murky-smuggler-with-a-heart Thomas Coyle during her travels back and forth to 1814. It makes it easy for the audience to consider shifting allegiances when Elliot makes mistakes. After all, Thomas is roguish, charming, and on an arc we’re all familiar with: the Han Solo-esque shift from careless to caring. Sure, he mistakenly shot Kat that one time, but the familiarity of the enemies-to-love-interests plot has its appeal.
Kat is a person who acts before she thinks. So it’s understandable that she might develop feelings for Thomas while she and Elliot are on the outs. She can get frustrated with Elliot’s cerebral, repressed communications approach, and vice versa. That’s why two of their best moments come when they both break through.
First, in Season 2, Episode 8, Kat and Elliot finally have it out over their failed run-away-to-London plan of 20 years earlier. Elliot, quite fairly, points out that he’s always been afraid he’ll never be her first choice. Kat, also fairly, points out that he’s never been clear with her about what he wants. It’s so satisfying to see him act on impulse for once and show her how he feels. Which, naturally, entails him seizing the moment (and her face) and instigating yet another intense makeout sesh that only stops when their old friend Nick interrupts with snark and some major time-travel questions.
The other is their big, cathartic scene near the end of the Season 2 finale. After getting his “five more minutes” in the past with Colton, Elliot better understands Kat’s struggles. Kat, meanwhile, has promised to publish his ancestor Susanna’s writings. Their love for each other’s families is part of their love for each other.
At this moment, they almost reverse roles. Elliot, finally, is able to be clear and free of doubt. “I want you to choose me,” he murmurs before kissing her. Kat, meanwhile, is able to take time to “let it sink in” instead of acting on instinct. Their reversal is a symbol of how they finally understand each other and meet in the middle. Do I particularly love that the show apparently still wants us to worry about the love triangle with Thomas? No, not one bit. I am nothing if not an avowed love triangle hater! But I also recognize that the messy journey of this ship is part of the reason I love them.
No matter what happens, a through-line remains for Kat and Elliot. It doesn’t matter how mad they are or what has passed between them — they’ll always be there for each other. Between the moments of delicious yearning and serious romance, there’s a real tenderness. It creates a greater intimacy than any overwrought monologues or sexy scenes could deliver. It’s a love story worth celebrating — and if you haven’t tuned in yet, it’s the perfect reason to start!
First Featured Image Credit: ©Hallmark