So Long, Farewell

I am extremely sorry for the lateness; life is basically to blame, though, in all honesty, I'd probably have managed to make more time to recap if it had been for an episode like "Lost and Found" or "Enjoy the Ride." But, I've got a month of vacation coming up and the season's about to hit its stride, so I'm hoping to get back to a more regular schedule with these.

Sam’s. Jake’s trying to fix a jammed espresso maker. As he wonders aloud why they haven’t gotten a new one, some guy comes over and proclaims that “someone’s got their cranky on.” Jake looks up and greets the guy as Cliff, and they exchange manly handslaps and fistbumps. Jake asks if they’re still on for tomorrow, prompting the nearby Nina to ask what’s happening tomorrow. She greets Cliff, telling him “Long time, no see.” Who is this guy? Why he is suddenly here? How much are we missing of these people’s lives?! Cliff blames Jake for the no-see, as he keeps cancelling on him. Jake promises that it won’t happen this time, since he cleared his schedule far in advance, and explains to Nina that they plan to freeride down Mt. Kinsey, which has a trail that is, according to Jake, “epic,” using lots of additional terminology that doesn’t mean a whole lot to me. Cliff puts a damper on Jake’s excitement by adding that the trail is closed to the public, at least for that day. He proposes that they just do it the following weekend, but Jake has a hissy-fit about how he only cleared the next day, and even uses emphatic hand gestures to make his point. Jake suddenly mellows and assures Cliff that they’ll figure something out, and besides, they always preferred a “pristine course,” right? They exchange the secret handshake again, and Cliff says he’ll pick him up at 6. As Cliff leaves, Harold and Andy enter. Harold asks, a little awestruck, if that was Cliff Fenton. Jake confirms this and asks if Harold knows him. Harold does not, but did read an article about him in the Pinecone’s Sunday supplement, and notes that he’s a “rather reckless sort.” Andy is surprised to learn that Harold reads the Sunday supplement, but Harold says that he enjoys the crossword. Jake says that he and Cliff met at the Winter X Games. Okay. Now they get together and ski or ride, depending on the weather. Despite the fact that we’ve never had any indication of this, like, ever. He tells the other two doctors about their plans, and invites them to come. Nina gives a little laugh, which prompts Andy to ask “What?” Nina says it’s nothing, but Andy knows better. Harold, however, ignores this and turns down the offer as it’s Pie Night at the Abbott house, and he can’t be late. Jake says that he figured Harold wouldn’t want to do it – Harold looks deeply offended at this – but asks if Andy’s up for an adrenaline rush. Jake’s being awfully friendly here. I suspect he’s plotting Andy's rocky death. Andy turns down the invitation, citing an early surgery, but says maybe another time. Nina just starts laughing outright at this, leading Andy to demand “What’s so funny?” Jake kisses her both in order to say goodbye, and to make her shut up. Just before leaving, Jake tells Andy to let him know if he changes his mind. Harold asks “What about me?” Nina ignores him and tells Andy to let her know, too. “I’ll hire a videographer for the occasion.” Nina walks away. Harold snits that he might have changed his mind, too, as it’s been known to happen. “I remember a specific incident in ‘82. I was debating between rocky road and mint chip.” Andy, meanwhile, wonders what’s so funny about the thought of him riding down rough terrain, since it’s not as though he hasn’t done that kind of thing before. Harold says of course he has. “And should I feel 'the need for speed,' I will act on it accordingly.” Andy declares that they both will, “and it won’t be riding some tricycle down a hill, I could tell you that!” Harold’s feeling his testosterone, too, adding an “Oh, you know it!” Then they go in for a high-five and totally miss, with Andy slapping Harold’s elbow. Hee! This little humiliation leads them to quickly change the subject, as Andy asks if it’s really Pie Night. Harold confirms that it is, and Rose is making French Apple. He adds that it’s “to die for,” which for some reason leads Andy to kind of look at him like he’s crazy. Credits!

Amy is sitting at a picnic table, presumably on campus, studying. Some guy walks past, dropping a flyer on the table and announcing a “party at Sheridan.” Amy tells him she can’t go, but the guy doesn’t particularly care; he gets paid $10 [for what? Enunciate, dude.] While exiting, the guy bumps into Reid, who’s just appeared. Reid says hey and, somewhat awkwardly, perhaps because he fears Ephram’s going to suddenly leap out from behind a tree and garrote him, asks how she is, and if she’s planning to go to the party, mentioning that Sheridan is a “pretty crazy dorm.” Amy says she can’t go, as she’s throwing a going-away party for Hannah that night. She invites Reid, who declines, claiming that he needs to spend the weekend studying. He says something again about how med school means an “insane amount of work,” and Amy, as tired as I am of hearing him talk about the workload, says “Yeah, yeah, I know, I get it.” Heh. Reid turns to leave, but Amy has a question for him. “I feel pretty stupid even bringing this up, because we’re kind of hanging out and being casual right now, but...we’re not really hanging out and being casual anymore, are we?” She notes that they’ve barely seen each other since saying they’d do it. Reid weakly apologizes. Amy assures him that he doesn’t have to make excuses if he just doesn’t want to go out with her. He’s quick to say that it’s not that. Amy asks what it is, then. Reid almost looks like he wants to tell her, but thinks better of it. “I think I just miscalculated. You know, like, I thought that I’d be able to handle dating and school, but as it turns out, I’m not as smart as I thought that I was.” He apologizes again, and Amy says that it’s cool. He tells her to have fun at her party and says that he’ll see her around. Amy is sad.

Administrative office in high school, where Hannah and Jayne are. The secretary is very sad that Hannah is leaving, remarking that she’s an “angel” and that “it just won’t be the same making holiday popcorn balls without” her. She must have made quite an impression during that one Christmas she had, at this point, spent there. “Jan” leaves to get Hannah’s records. A mysterious someone – okay, Topher – suddenly enters and walks up behind Hannah, whom he apparently doesn’t recognize from the back. Hannah turns around, and the exes are surprised to see one another. Loafer attempts a cool, “Hello, Hannah,” while she opts for the friendlier “How are ya?” He actually answers honestly, explaining that he had the flu the day before. He adds that he’s in the office to get a readmit slip. Hannah introduces him to her mother. Shasta McSpastic suddenly asks how things are with Bright. Hannah says nothing, but is clearly uncomfortable, and also a tiny bit amused by his total lack of awareness about, like, proper boundaries and social rituals. Sarah Drew really has some of the best facial expressions. It just gets worse, as Tofu adds a “Still going strong, I assume?” Hannah awkwardly answers that things are good. Jayne, meanwhile, is amused by the strange young man, as am I. You were little more than a roadblock on the way to Bright/Hannah, but you weren’t without your charms, Topher Cole. Brian continues that, since he’s run into her and all, he might as well let her know about his birthday party next week. “Bowling and ice cream...should be pretty rad!” There are no words. Hannah sincerely replies that it’s sweet of him to invite her, but she’s moving back to Minnesota. Aw. Loafer is crushed by this. Clearly he harbored hopes that Hannah would someday see the error of her ways and return to him, and he'd spend the rest of his days glued to her hip at all times, snorting all over her. She continues that she and Jayne are leaving in a few days. Tofu asks “for...ever?” Hannah nods in confirmation. He starts to get a little choked up, which inspires concern in both mother and daughter. Hannah asks if he’s okay. He replies that he’s fine, but is starting to feel woozy again. He walks away sadly, but adds to Jayne that it was nice to meet her. Jayne observes that he’s an “interesting young man.” Hannah, more brutally honest, remarks that “he’s a little weird,” and, also, that “he was kind of my boyfriend last year.” Jayne replies, with eyebrow raised, that Hannah had a boyfriend last year, too, clearly realizing for the first time what a brazen hussy Everwood’s made of her daughter. But mostly, she wonders why Hannah never told her about him. Hannah says that it wasn’t a big deal, since they only went on a couple of dates and things didn’t work out. “But it did make me realize how much I liked Bright, so some good did come out of it.” Jayne’s expression, hilariously and not unreasonably, indicates that she’s rather skeptical about this being a good thing. Jan returns with forms for Hannah to sign. Jayne looks happy, though it’s unclear if this is because her daughter will be with her, or because her daughter will be safely away from the young men of Everwood.

Speaking of whom, we cut to the apartment. Bright and Hannah are about to leave for a date. Ephram asks if they’re sure he can’t interest them in a “peanut butter and jelly sandwich dipped in cold tomato soup.” Amy: “It’s the dipping that freaks people out, Ephram. Why must you dip?” Hee. Hannah declines Ephram’s generous and gross offer by explaining that she and Bright are going to a tapas bar outside Denver, since it might be her last chance to eat there for quite a while. Bright looks sad. Amy asks if they haven’t been there already. Hannah replies that they have, “but only because Bright thought I said ‘topless.’ I think he still liked it, though.” She asks for confirmation, but it takes Bright a moment to provide it, as he’s presently too busy staring at the floor morosely. They leave. Ephram observes that Bright seems to be taking it all pretty hard. Amy thinks it’s sad and unfair that “they got their moment” but now Hannah’s leaving. Ephram offers his assistance with the going-away party, which Amy eagerly accepts. She starts to check her planner, but suddenly pauses and stares off into space. Ephram asks if she’s all right. Amy alleges that she is, but can’t believe that Hannah is really leaving and feels like she’s losing her best friend. “Who am I kidding, I’m losing my only friend,” she says, to the chopped liver sitting beside her. Said chopped liver insists that it’s not true, and Amy acknowledges their friendship. Ephram replies that it’s not about him, and he gets that. Amy goes on some more about how Hannah’s the only significant person in her life at the moment, and she’s been depending on her for “like, everything.” Ephram is sure that she’s met some people at school. Amy says that she tried to be a joiner at first, but just ended up going to big parties where no one knew who she was or cared that she was there. Ephram asks if that isn’t what all parties are like. Amy guesses so, and admits that she’s used to being the person throwing the parties, so she knows who everyone is. She suddenly wonders if this is how Ephram felt his entire time in Everwood. Ephram: “No, no. I mean, I wouldn’t blame it entirely on Everwood. You know, I’ve been antisocial since the womb, so...” Hee. Getting stuttery, he adds that all that was much easier for him when they were together. Amy concedes that it’s always easier as part of a couple, but the hard part is becoming a couple in the first place, which she complains is “apparently impossible” for her this year. Ephram shoots her a hopeful sidelong glance, and innocently asks what happened with Reid. Amy says that it’s not happening anymore, if it did at all, but it doesn’t matter because he won’t be filling the gaping void Hannah’s absence will create in her life, “not that anyone ever could.” Amy gets super oblivious again and declares that she “finally felt like there was someone in the world who got me,” but now that person is leaving, which I’m pretty sure the viewers haven’t forgotten in the last 28 seconds. Amy rests her head on Ephram’s shoulder, while Ephram looks decidedly uncomfortable.

Casa Nina. Jake is in the living room, doing something with his bike. A groggy Nina walks downstairs and wonders what time it is. Jake chirps that it’s “5:30, bright and early!” Jake is the kind of person that I would sometimes want very much to kick. Nina follows him into the kitchen and offers to make something to supplement the toast or bagel he’s eating. Jake refuses this offer, claiming that “if I eat anything else, I’ll just end up seeing it again at the bottom of the mountain.” Well, that works up my appetite. Nina marvels that he’s “really doing this.” Jake says it’s “crazy” and his first day off in a long time. Nina passive-agressives about how he’s choosing to spend it. Jake retorts that Nina’s the one who’s been telling him he’s working too hard and needs to relax. Nina is dubious about how relaxing this excursion will be, and observes that “even Cliff thinks it’s crazy.” Jake insists that he doesn’t, and defends his idea of what constitutes a relaxing activity. Nina confesses that her real issue is that Jake is not relaxing with her, which he could have done had he given her some advance notice about his day off. Jake asks if she’s mad; Nina insists that she’s not, just worried that he’s “lost the ability to slow down” and will give himself a heart attack. Jake thinks she’s starting to sound like Edna, “without the gravelly voice.” He starts to make his way out, declaring himself fine and saying that he’ll call when they’re done. Nina seems unconvinced.

Harold unnecessarily knocks on Andy’s open office door and then barges right in, asking if they should “share [their] suggested feats of derring-do.” Andy invites Harold to go first. Harold cautions him not to be “alarmed by the criminal nature of this suggestion; after all, it is merely a misdemeanor. I propose that we shoplift chewing gum from Herb’s General Store.” He quickly glances behind him, as though Herb’s back there just waiting to rap him on the knuckles or something. Andy skeptically repeats “Herb’s General Store?,” which Harold seems to think means Andy finds the proposal as dangerous as he does, until Andy exclaims that he had bungee-jumping and auto racing on his list. Harold wonders if scuba diving is more what Andy’s thinking. Andy: “Yes! Exactly. Except not that, I don’t like jellyfish.” He offers rock climbing. Harold: “No. Too much dirt under the fingernails.” He, a little tentatively, suggests sky diving. Andy thinks this is great, since “you can’t get any more extreme than jumping out of an airplane.” Harold notes the “nearly 100 percent survival rate” and declares “Here’s to hurling ourselves out of an airplane.” Andy: “Here’s to hurling in general!” Heh, he must have just watched that part of the Jake/Nina scene. They enthusiastically go in for another high-five, which ends in abject failure as Andy whacks Harold on the forearm. Andy asserts that Harold keeps holding his hand up too high. Harold complains that Andy shouldn’t slap so hard next time.

Hannah’s on the floor of her room, going through a drawer, from which she retrieves the ketchup children, bringing me memories of a better episode. Someone knocks on the open door; pan up to reveal that it’s Ephram. Clearly, the show is attempting to appease me. He remarks that he’s pretty sure Minnesota has ketchup, to which Hannah replies that it was a gift from Bright. Ephram: “Yeah, flowers are way too predictable.” She explains that it was last year and a long [but good] story, and asks why Ephram’s there. Ephram wonders why a person can’t just drop by unexpectedly. Hannah makes the good point that a person can, but Ephram’s not really the dropping-by kind. He concedes this, then announces that he thinks she should stay in Everwood. Hannah doesn’t particularly want to hear it, which Ephram realizes. “And I know you probably want to get out of here before everyone has a chance to convince you otherwise – trust me, I know how that goes. But running away from your problems is not going to solve anything.” Hannah denies that she’s running away from anything, insisting that she ran away when she came to Everwood in the first place. “Going home is the right thing for me to do. My mom really needs me now.” Ephram agrees with this last point, but asserts that there are people in Everwood who need her, too. Hannah, a little wearily, mutters that Bright will be fine. Ephram’s concern, though, is Amy. Hannah’s all, “Amy? Whaa?” Ephram says that while Amy would never want him to tell Hannah this, she is devastated to a degree that he hasn’t seen since he doesn’t even know when. “I mean, she’s trying to act all happy and positive because she doesn’t want to burden anybody, but that’s just how she is.” S2 notwithstanding, I guess. He concludes that Amy needs Hannah more than she lets on, and since she would never ask Hannah to stay, someone has to. Hannah stares at him, realization dawning. Ephram adds that he “just can’t stand to see [Amy] this sad.” Hannah observes that he still loves Amy. Ephram doesn’t acknowledge this, simply replying that “fact is, there’s people here that care about you, and I think you belong here.” Hannah calls him a good guy. Ephram ignores this, too, and just tells her to “think about it.” After he leaves, Hannah gazes mournfully upon a picture of the Abbott sibs and herself, then glances around her room resignedly.

Bright empties out a laundry basket onto the Abbott kitchen table. Rose, in the kitchen proper, offers her help in folding, which Bright accepts. He mentions that he’s “feeling kind of pukey” at the moment, and I think again on what a pleasant episode this is so far. Rose asks if he’s sick. Well, if looovesick counts. Ew, I’m sorry, I just grossed even myself out with the lameness. Anyway, Bright complains that his chest and head hurt and he wants to lie down all the time, which he nicely illustrates by dramatically slumping face-forward onto the table. Rose lifts his head to check for a fever and, after peeling off a sock that’s attached itself to his face, confirms that he doesn’t have one. Bright feels his forehead and disagrees, though Rose points out that he’s had his head/hand [I can't actually tell which she says, but, heck, they both work] in a pile of laundry. She continues that he’s not sick, but heartbroken, and, in an inappropriately cheery manner, declares that it happens to everyone some time and it’s his turn. Bright thinks he would rather just have whooping cough. Rose goes on some more about how everyone will miss Hannah, but Bright insists that it’s more than that. “I’m going to miss everything about her. Not just the person, you know, that she is, but who I am when I’m with her.” As Rose nods a little, Bright continues that Hannah “makes things better,” including Bright himself, and that without her around, he’ll return to his former ways. Rose exclaims that he’s not a “rubber band” to snap back so easily. Bright: “We don’t know that, Mother. Okay, I have been an asshat the majority of my adult life; the odds are I’m going to convert back to that, you know?” Oh, wow. I just realized now how eerily Bright/Chris Pratt channels Harold/Tom Amandes in that delivery. Dude. It’s one of those delightful moments where you can more than buy into the idea that these various characters are closely related. But there’s not much time to relish that line, since Rose responds with an even better one: “Revert. 'Convert' would make ‘asshat’ a religion.” And in any case, Hannah doesn't need to move away in order for him to revert or convert to asshattery. Just sayin'. Rose assures him that couples have long-distance relationships all the time, and offers she and Harold as an example. This is news to Bright, so Rose explains that she stayed in Everwood during Harold’s first year of residency and that they talked on the phone and she made trips to see him. “We just made it work. And if you want this, you can make it work, too.” Bright asks if she really thinks so, and she does. He gets all enthusiastic about the idea, mentioning that he might take enough credits to transfer to whatever college she ends up attending. Rose thinks there’s plenty of time to think about these things later, and asks what his plans are for Hannah’s last night in Everwood, after Amy’s grand going-away party. Bright: “Well, uh, I figure that the party’s gonna suck, and then afterwards we’re gonna be all depressed and crying...” Aw, now he’s channeling Ephram! Rose challenges Bright to come up with a slightly better plan than that. Bright looks inspired.

X-treme Mountain Biking Time! Jake and Cliff are gabbing about relationships. As you do. Cliff observes that Jake hasn’t been much fun, which Jake attributes to the argument he had with Nina. Cliff wants to hear all about it, reminding Jake that the “Love Doctah is in!” Shut up, Cliff. Fortunately, Jake calls him an idiot before explaining that Nina was upset with him for not spending the day with her. Cliff thinks this is a minor issue, but Jake brings up Nina’s complaints about his working too hard, and how he thinks she might be right. Cliff’s response is all x-treme and testosterone-filled, with a “blah blah” (though he blows a golden opportunity to append “cakes” to the rest of the statement) and an oddly faux gangsta-accented “Look, man, you wanna live some BS suburban concept of life, or you wanna friggin’ grab it by the nuts and shake it[...cakes]?” He blathers something about Jake opening up his own line of clinics across the country, like, is this remotely pertinent to anything you’ve just discussed, Cliff? But Jake appreciates Cliff’s support of his workaholic tendencies. The two men reach the top of the trail and look down. Jake is slightly less confident than Cliff, who casually straps on his helmet and tells Jake he’ll see him at the bottom. Heh, well, he’s not wrong there! Cliff starts his trip down and...oh, my gosh, some uptempo, sporty sounding song starts up and we’re treated to a whole scene of Cliff riding the trail while Jake looks on nervously. There are jump cuts and everything, I guess to amp up the x-treme x-citement! Until...Cliff’s bike hits a big rock and he’s propelled forward, landing several feet below. In a moment that always makes me laugh inappropriately, because I swear the character was only named for the purposes of this scene, Jake shouts “Cliff!” Well, you could have warned him about that twenty seconds sooner, there, Jake! Ha ha ha! I am a horrible person! (And yes, I realize it's not actually a cliff, but the writer probably thought naming him "Rock" would be even more conspicuous.) Jake calls out again, and rides down to check on his unconscious buddy.

Amy and Hannah in a store of some sort. It seems to sell sunglasses and books. Apparently Hannah is shopping for going-away presents, as Amy suggests she give Nina sunglasses. I hope Amy doesn’t draw my name in this year’s Fake People from Cancelled Shows/Real People Secret Santa. Hannah, for her part, doesn’t think sunglasses really say “thank you for providing me with food, shelter, and love for the past year-and-a-half.” Amy changes the subject, nonchalantly asking what Hannah wants to do on her last night, adding that it’s “totally up to” her. Hannah knows one thing she doesn’t want to do, “and that’s go to a surprise party in my honor.” Heh. I wonder if even Hannah’s grown tired of the incessant adoration. Amy puts down a bird mask – which the store also sells, because the store is on crack – and is all shocked that Hannah knows, and blames Bright. But Hannah didn’t hear it from him; she just knows Amy that well. “There hasn’t been an event you haven’t wanted to throw a surprise party for. You wanted to surprise me when I blew out my hair for the first time.” Though Amy insists that that was a “huge moment,” Hannah continues that Amy’s probably already made five mix CDs and put together a slide show on her Mac. Amy: “Wow. I guess I won’t turn into my mother since I’ve already turned into my father.” Hee. I mean, it’s awfully similar to a joke Friends had done a few years earlier, but it means so much more here. Hannah assures Amy that she loves that she wants to throw the party for her, but that it would be too painful. Amy understands, but insists that she can’t leave without any fanfare. “Abbotts need fanfare. It’s our word for ‘closure.’” Hannah doesn’t think they need any closure, since they’ll be friends forever. She proposes, as an alternative to the party, that Amy find and go crazy at some college party. Amy finds it strange that Hannah would want to spend her last night in Everwood at a kegger. Hannah: “No, I want you to go to one. Without me.” Ha! Intentional or not, this is coming across as an awfully one-sided friendship. Hannah asserts that Amy needs to go out and meet some new people, though I’m fairly convinced that Hannah's only saying this so she can spend her last night with Bright. Amy says that she already tried that, and discovered that “new people suck.” Hannah responds that she used to think so, too, until she met Amy, “all bossy and driven and there for me all the time. I mean, what you gave me, I could never find a gift big enough to repay you.” Which must mean she totally didn’t get anything for Amy. And, actually, she didn’t, as she admits when Amy says she doesn’t need a present. Heh. Returning to the pretense that she actually likes Amy, Hannah exclaims that she’s a great friend, not only to her, but to everyone. She thinks that she’s been “selfish” in being afraid of losing Amy to college friends, but realizes now that she’ll never lose her; college and Minnesota won’t change anything. They hug; while Amy practically chokes Hannah, the latter continues that Amy should just get out there and show everyone how great she is. Post-hug, she tells Amy to “wow ‘em” and emphasizes her point with a goofy arm gesture that reminds me of Mike D’Antoni reacting to a bad play or a foul call. Amy remarks that now Hannah sounds like Harold. Hannah laughs awkwardly at herself.

Jake has reached the still-unconscious Cliff. He checks his pulse, which is present, and then calls out for help. This...is so barely worth recapping, and I’m not entirely sure why it wasn’t just part of their previous scene.

Nina and Andy are leaving their respective homes at the same time. Nina notes that Andy is carrying a parachute and asks why he has it. Andy replies that today is “orientation” and that he and Harold are going skydiving the next day. Nina looks alarmed, but Andy cheerfully tells her not to look so shocked, as it’s “just another facet of my personality you’ve never seen.” Nina rather dubiously asks “Is that so?” Andy confirms that it is, and asks if she knows what his nickname in college was. She lamely suggests “Crazy Andy.” Andy says no, but that it would have made more sense than the one he had. Andy gets to the point, which is that he can “live on the edge” too. He asks where Jake is and suggests that he might like to join them. Nina doubts is, as he’s currently at the hospital with Cliff, who apparently has a bad concussion and various bodily injuries which required surgery, from which he still hasn’t awoken. Andy is very sorry, and asks if there’s anything he can do. Nina suggests something: “Can’t you just buy a car or date a 21-year-old?” Andy doesn’t know what she’s talking about, so she continues. “Just have a midlife crisis like a normal guy. That way you can forget about the airplane thing and whatever other stupid ideas you have planned. I don’t have to worry that you’re out there riding a unicycle on a tightrope.” Andy reveals that he used to do wild and crazy things all the time, and that he even once owned a motorcycle! This doesn’t mean much to Nina, who says she’s glad she didn’t know him then. Andy is puzzled. Nina explains that one of her favorite things about him is that he doesn’t “have that extra dash of machismo that makes men do dumbass things, because you don’t have anything to prove. Or, at least, I thought you didn’t.” She continues that even if he was “that guy” when he was younger, he can’t be now, because he has two kids who need him. “And I need you around, too. So, if you don’t mind, could you just be a little less reckless, for me?” I find it a little bit sad that Nina’s concern seems to affect him a little more than the thought of leaving Ephram and Delia as orphans does. Andy says that he’ll talk to Harold, for which Nina thanks him. As she walks to her car, she asks what Andy’s college nickname was. Andy flirtatiously replies, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Heh. Probably means it was something lame.

Jake enters a very crowded clinic and apologizes for being late. He asks for five minutes and marches into his office. Edna, concerned, follows. She kindly observes that he looks like he was just run over by a truck. Jake says that he feels even worse. Edna asks if there’s been any change with Cliff. Jake tells her what Nina already told us about the surgery. Edna urges him to cancel the day’s appointments and go back to the hospital, but Jake refuses, as they already cancelled the previous day’s appointments. Edna takes a different tack, asking if he’s eaten yet. Jake just wants to take care of the patients quickly so he can return to the hospital ASAP. Edna, not knowing when to quit, asks what Cliff’s prognosis is. Jake informs her that it’s “crap” and that he’s unlikely to ever walk again. Edna reminds Jake that Cliff will be able to breathe again, and he owes that to Jake, though Jake considers this small comfort. She starts to say something about Jake going through a traumatic experience, but he really doesn’t want a “therapy session;” he just wants Edna to bring in the first patient. Edna finally complies, though reluctantly so.

Harold is testing his skydiving equipment in a way that only he would, by leaning over a chair, in front of a fan turned on full-blast. Hannah appears, holding a gift box, and, slightly weirded out, greets him. Harold turns off the fan and announces that his helmet and goggles are “100 percent wind-resistant.” Hannah: “Oh...o-kay.” Hee. She holds out the box and says that it’s a “goodbye/thank you present.” Harold thanks her and begins to open it, though he adds that the gesture is unnecessary since just having her around for the past year was “gift enough.” He finally opens the gift, and exclaims, “Oh, mother of pearl.” Hee! Hannah has given him a “lovely terra cotta-colored sweater vest,” the exact same style as one that he has in “pine” and “heathered charcoal.” Hannah says that this one just came out, so she had to move fast to get it before he did. Harold suddenly chuckles a slightly bitter “oh, good Lord,” provoking Hannah’s curiosity. Harold says it’s nothing, but Hannah reminds him that she’s leaving soon, so “it may be your last opportunity to take advantage of my 17-year-old smarts.” Harold asks her how long it took her to think of a gift for him. Hannah assures him that his was the easiest to get. Harold says that’s exactly it; “I’m as predictable as the fine stitching on this lamb’s wool-cashmere blend, and don’t try to argue with me.” Hannah had no intention of doing so, actually. “You are predictable, Dr. Abbott, but that’s what’s so great about you. At least I think so.” Harold observes that she must enjoy his “constant tedium.” Hannah prefers to consider it “reliability.” She says that Harold is always there for her, and for everyone. “We all count on you. Don’t you know that?” Harold says that what he does know is that Hannah has “brought a world of joy into the Abbott household which will never be forgotten. And not just for my children; I’m talking about for Rose and for myself. You feel like one of our own. ” He concludes that they’ll miss her “dearly.” They hug and he jokingly begs her not to leave them.

And, um, this is a slightly evil reaction to this well-intentioned scene, but...WE GET IT. Okay, see? This is one of the reasons I dislike this episode. I love Hannah. And it’s cute to see her with Harold, even though they haven’t really interacted on-screen since “Fallout,” which makes this whole display seem a little unearned to me. But throughout the episode, we’re just hammered over the head repeatedly with how fantastic she is and how everyone loves her. That gets old. Fast. And my rebellious streak compels me to think the exact opposite, and I don’t like feeling compelled to dislike a character I like. Moving on.

Ephram and Amy are about to enter a kegger. Amy can’t believe that Hannah talked her into going; Ephram can’t believe that it was Hannah’s idea in the first place. “Doesn’t she have some sort of moral objection against parties?” Amy thinks that Bright’s “had more of an impact on her than we realized, which is just scary.” Hee. Amy thanks Ephram for accompanying her, as she didn’t think she could go there on her own. Ephram says he actually loves this kind of thing; “it gives me a chance to say all sorts of really inappropriate things to people that I’ll never see again.” Amy hopes he doesn’t do this with anyone she actually wants to befriend. They stop, and she asks how she looks. Ephram’s answer is, of course, that she looks “beautiful,” which she, of course, does. Amy’s confidence is bolstered, and she’s all set to “do this thing.” Just outside the party’s entrance, Ephram tells her to let him know whenever she wants him to go. Amy is quick to inform him that he has to stay beside her all night, as her wingman. Ephram asks -- Mother of pearl. Gregory Smith has never looked more like James McAvoy than he does in this particular shot. Nice. Uh, so, Ephram asks if “chicks have those, too,” which Amy confirms, though she adds that “we just use them for less disgusting reasons than guys do.” Ephram, more than happy to serve as Amy’s anything, really, shrugs that if that’s what she wants, he’s not going anywhere. Amy reiterates that it’s what she wants.

A car speeds down some road, somewhere. Bright is taking a blindfolded Hannah to some secret location. She guesses a French restaurant in Denver or the movies; he denies that it’s the former and says he wouldn’t wear a suit to the latter. Bright also refuses to tell her if she guesses correctly. Hannah seethes about how “unfair” it is, then tells Bright to “stop smirking.” Bright wonders how she knows he’s smirking and waves a hand before her still-blindfolded eyes before muttering, “Never mind.” Heh. They pull to a stop, which Hannah takes as her cue to remove said blindfold. She observes that they’re at the high school. Bright leads her into the gym and announces, “Welcome to your senior prom.” There are balloons and lights and it’s a decent enough set-up that I would wonder how Bright managed all this (particularly getting access to the gym in the first place) on short notice, except that it is, after all, a surprise for Hannah; he probably informed the school of his plans and they made him his own set of keys, and offered to cover any and all expenses. In any case, Bright says that he knows it’s not the same as the real prom, but that he “didn’t want to wait until June.” And while he also knows she’ll have a prom in Minnesota, for which he’ll be her date, he wanted her to have “a real one. In our school. In Everwood.” He asks if she likes it, and offers to take her somewhere else if she doesn’t. Hannah, in fact, loves it, and flings herself into his arms. Then things get all montage-y, to the tune of Hem's "Pacific Street."

Bright pulls out a chair for Hannah at the table he’s set up nicely. Harold, Rose, and Andy sit at the Abbott dinner table, and Harold toasts “to not jumping out of an airplane.” Ephram and Amy talk and laugh with people at the kegger who aren’t each other, though they take some time out to exchange glances that indicate how much fun they are having with other people, except that Ephram's also indicates how much he wishes the other people weren't there too. Bright and Hannah dance. And dance. And dance some more. All right, look, I know this is supposed to be romantic, but it really makes me want to watch the scenes involving Hannah’s junior prom from “He Who Hesitates,” because: comedy gold, people. These two had chemistry over the phone. And also, um, that episode of Wings where Psycho Sandy Cooper traps Joe in the basement and makes him reenact the senior prom he never asked her to. Man, that was hilarious. Yeah, this is probably not where my mind should be wandering just about now, but there you go. Bright and Hannah dance us into the commercial break.

Bright and Hannah are now at Nina’s, the dancing having finally concluded. Bright: “Now, I hope you don’t think I voted you Prom Queen just because you were the only girl there.” Hee. Hannah thinks he just likes a girl in a tiara. Dude, whose bad call was it not to show us Bright tiara-shopping? I don't care if Rose helped him and the whole prom thing was supposed to be a surprise for the audience; that was some potentially priceless material, right there. In any case, it’s all perfectly cute as he begins to walk her to the door, until Hannah sits him down for a little driveway talk. She begins by removing the tiara and thanking him for the prom, which was more than she expected and “even more than I thought I could expect.” Bright assures her that she can expect that kind of thing from him all the time. “Just so you know, I’m full of genius.” Hannah smiles sadly and says that she knows he is. Then she just looks sad. Bright reminds her that he’s taking her to the airport the next day, so they can save their goodbyes for then. But Hannah would prefer to take care of “the whole goodbye thing” now. “And the whole break-up thing, too.” Bright is poleaxed by this last suggestion. Hannah insists that they have to break up, though Bright adamantly denies this. But Hannah is equally sure. “I want to keep us like this forever, the way we’re feeling right now...it’s like, I want to freeze it and save it. But if we try to stay together while you are here and I’m there, I just – I just think it’ll be too hard.” Bright disagrees and says he’s thought a lot about it; he’ll visit, they’ll call all the time... Hannah continues his line of thought, putting a more bitter twist on things, saying that “real life will get in the way, and we’ll stop visiting, and we’ll stop calling each other as much, and then all we’ll ever feel about each other is sad, or hurt...or, or disappointed.” Bright replies, pretty definitely, that he “would never hurt” her. Whoa. This scene suddenly just got even more interesting than I remembered it as being. Hannah quickly assures him that she knows he would never want to, nor would she want to hurt him, but that “distance just changes things.” She concedes that she might just be a coward, but that she doesn’t want to risk losing the “perfect feeling” she has now. Though Bright weakly attempts to protest, Hannah continues that he gave her the “only perfect night of [her] entire life” and that regardless of what happens after she leaves, she wants him to know that she’ll always remember the night as her “most favorite night, ever.” She goes in for a sad, yet surprisingly forceful, kiss before making a mad dash for the house over Bright’s protestation. Once inside, Hannah looks at the tiara in her hand, breaks down into tears, and runs up the stairs. At the sound, Jayne appears in the living room and looks up the stairs, possibly beginning to rethink this whole plan.

Cliff’s hospital room, the next day. Jake stands in the doorway, not entering until the now-conscious Cliff lifts his head a little in acknowledgment. Jake actually starts off with a “Hey, buddy” and asks how Cliff feels. Cliff complains that the room is “friggin’ depressing” and jokes that he considered throwing his Jell-O at the walls to give them some color. Jake would prefer to make the mood in the room even more friggin’ depressing, and so says, as he sits at his friend’s bedside, that he can’t believe this is happening and can’t imagine what Cliff is feeling. Cliff, actually, is not feeling “a lot of anything from” his midsection down. Jake is apologetic and at a loss for words. Cliff doesn’t really care if Jake knows what to say or not, as he’s presently more preoccupied with the knowledge that he’s paralyzed. “Can’t ski, can’t run, can’t even walk...I just wish...” Jake leans forward and eagerly asks what he wishes, offering to do whatever’s necessary. But Cliff only wishes that they had waited until the next weekend. Jake grimaces at this. Cliff continues that Jake should have left him on the trail. Jake is deeply apologetic some more, agreeing that Cliff was right on the waiting thing [because...being right is pretty high on Cliff’s list right now?]. He also offers to talk to Andy about the injury, citing his miraculous work with spinal cases. Cliff, however, doesn’t believe in miracles, and only cares about getting his legs back. He then goes into a lengthy discourse on the Muddy Buddy race and, at the end, says that he was going to ask Jake to be his partner that year, though “that’s all shot to hell” now. Before Jake can respond, a nurse appears, proffering pain pills, which Cliff gladly accepts. Jake is transfixed by the meds. As the nurse leaves, Cliff leans back and remarks that he wants to be numb. “I don’t want to feel it. I don’t want to feel any of this, you know what I mean?” Jake does, in fact.

Herb’s General Store, I presume, though it can't be nearly as "general" as that place where Amy and Hannah were. Andy is examining rolls of duct tape when Harold walks over and advises him against that particular brand due to its non-stickiness. Andy greets him, and Harold observes that they could, at that moment, have been “spiraling down towards earth, praying to God that our parachutes would open.” Andy acknowledges that shopping isn’t quite on the same level of excitement. This is not a problem for Harold, “although, the idea of infusing a bit of danger into the ennui that is our daily routine does still titillate.” Andy glances downward and suddenly recalls one suggestion, asking if Harold remembers “#3 on the list.” Harold can’t believe what Andy is suggesting, but Andy really means it, encouraging Harold to go for “the big one” – i.e. a pack of Juicy Fruit from the gum rack. Harold picks it up, but is very iffy on the whole shoplifting thing. Andy, in hushed tones, declares it the “heist of a lifetime,” which is the final encouragement Harold needs. He puts the gum in his coat pocket and attempts to make a smooth escape, but bumps into the gum rack on his way out. Andy urges him on, shouting “Go! Go!” which Harold does, as dorkily as one might expect. Once he’s out the door, Andy tells the clerk to just put the gum on his tab. Hee. (And, also, that sentence makes more sense when spoken, for some reason. It just looks all kinds of weird here.)

Hannah is prone on her bed, crying. She gets up when Jayne enters, and announces that she’s all packed and ready to go! She cheerily asks, while wiping away a tear, how long before they leave for the airport. Jayne says about an hour, but has something to ask before they go: what would Hannah think about staying in Everwood for the rest of the school year? Jayne continues that it would make more sense that way, since she’ll be graduating soon and going off to college after that. Hannah begins to protest, but Jayne is firm. “I’m the parent, and you’re the teenager. I get to be the martyr and you get to be self-centered.” Hannah says that she’s already been that, and now just wants what’s best for Jayne. But Jayne insists that Hannah’s happiness is what’s best for Jayne, and Hannah’s clearly happy in Everwood. She says some awkward sentimental mom-type things a little woodenly, but the gist is that Hannah’s matured quite a bit since her second-grade days of clinging to Jayne’s leg. Hannah says that she misses her mother now, though, and doesn’t want to spend another six months away from her. Jayne promises to visit frequently, and says that Hannah can come home as often as she wants, and can even bring Bright. The thought of this amuses Hannah. “Oh my gosh, he would die to see the house, wouldn’t he? We don’t even have a TV!” OH COME ON. I mean, not that there aren’t people who don’t own TVs, because there are, and I even know a couple of them, but still. Of course Hannah’s family doesn’t own a television; she’s all morally conservative and dresses like Laura Ingalls Wilder! It all makes sense now! But anyway, Jayne says that she might get one, and that it’s “a whole new world,” so maybe Hannah’s Dad had some rule against television or something, which they can totally disregard now! (Although, it wouldn’t be unlike what happened when my grandfather, who refused to let my step-grandmother wear skirts – seriously – died; the day before his memorial service, she went out and bought, like, 5 dresses.) Anyhoo, Hannah asks if Jayne’s sure about everything. She is, and is sure that it’s what Hannah’s Dad would have wanted, too. Hannah is sincerely happy now, and hugs Jayne, telling her she loves her. Jayne’s all with the one-upsmanship right now, and says she loves Hannah more. Hannah excitedly gets her phone, which is Jayne’s cue to leave, excitedly dials, and excitedly begins to tell Bright the good news.

Jake’s at his desk. Edna appears in the doorway and says she’s leaving, and asks if he is, too. Jake holds up a stack of files and says it’ll be a few more hours. Edna offers to stay and help, but he refuses. She suddenly remembers to ask how his visit with Cliff went. Jake seems to think a moment before responding that Edna was right; “he thanked me.” Edna is happy, and calls Jake a hero. Jake looks pained, and glances in the direction of a cabinet, and I think we can all see where this is going, even without the benefit of hindsight. He walks over to said cabinet and rummages around in it a bit before locating a bottle of Percocet. He holds it in his hands and looks pensive, as we fade out.

Next time: ...will be presented to you by special guest-recapper Ashura!

Pro Choice

Bright and Hannah are making out on her bed. There’s some very quiet, serious talk of her taking “them” off, because “they’re getting in the way.” Oh, show, we’ve already established that you’re better than this. Anyway, they’re talking about her glasses, which Bright removes for her, just before attempting to remove her bra. Disconcerted by the sudden presence of a hand under her shirt, Hannah falls off the bed, heh. She pops up, declaring that she’s “fine” but didn’t think it seemed like the “time” for “that.” Bright laughs awkwardly and agrees, but then wonders: “I know you don’t want to have sex because of the Bible, but I was thinking, like, I’m not sure there’s anything in there that says you can’t take your girlfriend’s bra off.” Hannah is so flummoxed by this that she actually acknowledges that her concerns aren’t all rooted in religion, and stutters out that it’s about timing, and “it’s just not bra-removal time.” Bright accepts this, but then asks when that time might be. Hannah replies that it’s certainly not when Nina’s downstairs making dinner. Bright rolls his eyes. Seriously, Bright, I love you even in the last several episodes of this season, which is saying something, believe me, but that wasn’t cool. Hannah asks if he’s mad; he denies this, but does observe that Hannah seems to make a lot of excuses to avoid “doing stuff.” Hannah declares this to be untrue, while Bright retorts “except that, it kinda is.” The sniping is interrupted when Nina knocks on the door, which prompts the two to quickly stand up and attempt to look platonic. Nina comes in to announce that Hannah has a visitor: Jayne Brook! Well, her mom, but it’s more fun to type “Jayne Brook.” After a very surprised Hannah identifies her as “Mom,” Bright looks up and offers one of his very best goofy smiles and waves.

Hannah, Bright, and Jayne Brook head down the stairs. Bright tells Jayne that it was nice to meet her, and adds, just before leaving, that he and Hannah never, ever hang out in her room together, and that this was the first time that ever happened. Hee! Jayne wears a wry smile while Hannah basically shoves her boyfriend out the door. After this is accomplished, Hannah turns back to her mom, clearly worried, and asks what happened. Jayne, still...kind of smiling, a little, which is weird, simply replies that Nina is making tea. She leads Hannah over to the couch, though Hannah remains standing. Hannah assumes that the news is something along the lines of her father having an infection. Jayne tells her to sit next to her, calling her “Hannah-Bear” in the process, which is clearly not a good sign. Nina enters with the tea. Jayne, looking tearier now, gives her daughter the news: her father is “gone.” Hannah, a little in shock, asks for clarification, which Jayne provides when she responds that he’s dead. Nina, off to the side, cringes. Hannah is in disbelief, pointing out the fact that her mother didn’t contact her about it, and he seemed okay when Hannah saw him a few months before. Nina offers her help with funeral arrangements, but no need; Jayne had Hannah’s dad cremated, per his request. She assures Hannah that she doesn’t need to worry about anything, because it’s all been taken care of! Hannah is visibly upset and can’t believe this last part. Jayne asks what Hannah means. What Hannah means is, “How could you not tell me this was happening? You just–you just show up here, after everything, and I...I don’t understand you.” Hannah marches off to her room, while Jayne calls after her, asking for a chance to explain. Wow. Hannah’s mom kind of sucks. And also, when the episode originally aired, I assumed we were going to find out that she had euthanized Hannah’s dad, hence the secrecy and the title “Pro Choice.” I’m not sure I would have been thrilled with an episode on the subject, but then, this show was always able to do impressive things when dealing with moral/social/medical/ethical issues. But no, Jayne’s just like that, and the title really is kind of randomly political.

Brown kitchen. Nina’s there, helping clean up after dinner with Andy and Ephram. Delia’s apparently lying unconscious in a ditch or something. Though Andy assures Nina that she doesn’t have to help with chores, she explains that she has to do something with the nervous energy that’s resulted from the sudden news of Hannah’s dad’s death [why doesn’t this man have a name? This is getting awkward.], even though she knew it was coming. Andy thinks that it’s always impossible to prepare for this kind of news, but that Nina’s doing everything right. Ephram, who is stealing canned goods from the cabinet, asks how Hannah is. This should, in my admittedly biased opinion, eventually lead to a short scene in which they talk a little about losing a parent, especially when neither had the chance to say goodbye to that parent. But no, this is really the extent to which we’ll see Ephram having any kind of friendly feelings towards Hannah. Anyway, Nina replies that Hannah seems to still be in shock, which is enough for Ephram, who puts two cans of something in a grocery bag. Andy orders him to put one back. Hee. I’m beginning to see how Ephram manages to keep his part of the apartment’s grocery bill so low. Andy turns his attention back to Nina, who’s getting ready to leave. “If there’s anything you need...a homecooked meal, a place for Sam to destroy, I’m on call, 24/7.” Nina calls Sam in from the living room, and the two leave. Andy watches them, wistful. Ephram asks what Andy is doing, given that he’s been “staring at Nina’s shadow for like ten minutes.” Andy explains that he is simply worried about her, then throws things back to Ephram, asking what’s going on with Amy. Ephram informs Andy that he was right about her dating someone else, but Ephram is sure it’s just some “random jock loser” and that the whole thing is “nothing.” Andy agrees. Ephram continues that Amy’s probably just trying to “get back in the game,” and that there’s no way she’s in love with the guy already. Andy asks if Ephram plans to tell Amy about his feelings, which Ephram does not, as he sees no need to rush things and intends to “work the friend angle” for a while. He suddenly asks the whereabouts of the “salsa from Zabar’s.” Andy cryptically replies that it’s in a “safe place,” which Ephram takes to mean that Andy hid it. Andy: “Damn right.”

Abbott house; more specifically, Amy’s room. Hannah, sitting on Amy's bed, still can’t understand why Jayne didn’t tell her about what was happening. Amy, sitting with her, thinks that she must have had her reasons. Bright, meanwhile, is in the background, removing piles of clothes from a chair. Amy, annoyed, asks what he’s doing. He explains that he’s looking for a place to sit, then exposits that “Mom and Dad leave for a week, you turn into me.” Hee, but judging from the glare she levels at him, what Amy really wants to know is why he isn’t comforting his girlfriend. Hannah continues that Huntington’s is a slow-moving disease, and she and her mom talked every week. Amy asks if Hannah is mad because Jayne didn’t tell her that her father was dying, or because she didn’t tell her until after it happened. Isn’t that essentially the same thing? Hannah covers all her bases, saying that she’s angry about both issues. “My mother, she always does this. She just makes these decisions about things, and she never asks me how I feel about any of them. Like, when she decided to go on the cruise. I mean, she just–she decided. Maybe I would have wanted to spend more time with Dad over the summer. Obviously, I should have.” While she gets closer to tears, Amy glances at Bright, who’s sitting by, looking dopey. He finally catches on, and declares that Harold and Rose “do that stuff too.” Hannah looks over at him, while he goes on about how they “didn’t even tell us they were going to Africa, or anything. Didn’t even, like, tell us in advance.” *Sigh* Amy doubts that this is “remotely the same thing.” Bright concedes that it is not. Amy asks what if Hannah had known in advance; is there anything she could have done? Hannah, choked up, replies that she could have said goodbye. Amy and Hannah hug, and Amy gives Bright another insistent look. Bright seems to be at a total loss.

Andy’s office. Andy gently informs his patient, Brian, that he wishes he could say things were improving, but... Brian’s daughter, played by Gina Ravera, whom I know only as Detective Daniels from The Closer, finishes Andy’s thought by asking if he’s worse. She asks what they can do, given that he’s been waiting for a kidney transplant for a year. Brian admonishes her to let Andy talk. Unfortunately, all Andy has to say is that they’re running out of time, as Brian’s been on dialysis for nine years and the idea of ten makes Andy “uncomfortable.” Brian jokes about his own comparative discomfort, at which Andy laughs, before continuing that he’ll see what he can do about moving Brian up on the transplant list. Detective “Debbie Downer” Daniels questions if this would make any difference, since Brian could still just die at any time. Wow, I’d sure want her support in the doctor’s office! But Brian says that they’ve been expecting that, anyway, especially since he’s been dealing with nephritis his whole life. “Anyway, parents die. It’s been that way from time immemorial.” Hey...you don’t think there’s a theme here, do you? Huh. Det. Daniels is having none of this, and declares that she’ll give Brian one of her kidneys. Brian protests, but Det. Daniels outshouts him and asks Andy if he can run the test to see if she’s a match. Brian tells Andy that he and his daughter have “already discussed this,” but Det. Daniels retorts that he’s discussed it, and that things are different now, more serious. Brian replies that the situation has always been serious, and that he refuses to let them cut his daughter open. “Risk your life to save mine? Not happening, little girl.” Which is sweet, if a little patronizing, but we’ll soon learn there’s more to it than simple fatherly concern. Andy assures Brian that the procedure is safe, and that “Stacy” could live a long and healthy life with just one kidney. Det. Daniels tries again with Brian, but he remains adamant about the issue. Then he announces: “It’s my body. My choice.” And, I’m sorry, but given the relatively heavy-handed nature of this episode, doesn’t that just sound like it would go right along with a Hannah’s dad/euthanasia storyline? Just sayin’. Andy has no response.

Many hours later. Ephram is coming down from his crawl space/"loft" when he hears Amy’s voice. And there she is, in the doorway, making out with and saying goodbye to Reid. Amy then leaves. Ephram is horrified. Reid is smirky. Ephram hides behind the stairs, looking for all the world like he’s about to cry.

Next morning. A shirtless Reid is noisily grinding coffee beans, while Bright eats cereal out of his beloved glass measuring cup, because apparently they don’t own bowls. Ephram walks in and crankily asks if there isn’t a law against using a coffee grinder before noon. Reid cheerily apologizes, but explains that morning coffee is the key to his whole day. He adds that the kona he’s using is so “serious” that it costs about $20 a bean. Ephram: “Is that why you can’t afford a shirt?” BWAH! Ephram's pretty awful to Reid throughout the rest of this episode, but that gloriously pithy put-down is almost enough to make it all worth it. Yet neither Bright nor Reid seems to appreciate it; the two look at each other, a bit jarred by Ephram’s sudden hatred for the latter, while Ephram just looks at Reid expectantly. Which is hilarious, too, as though he’s expecting Reid to give him an actual answer. After a moment, Reid merely finishes his thought, saying that the kona is worth the high price. He pours Ephram a cup, but Ephram passes, claiming that he doesn’t "do" coffee. Poor Reid says “Suit yourself,” and marches off to his bedroom, probably now near tears himself. Bright suddenly starts talking about the consistency of the marshmallows in his cereal. I think I’m going to marry this scene. Ephram cuts him off, insisting that he needs to talk to him about something. Bright continues his diatribe against false marshmallow advertising, but Ephram clarifies that what he needs to talk about is the apartment, or more specifically, his crawl space. Bright takes this to mean that Ephram’s finally going to use his “hanging bead” idea, and adds that “It’ll look dope, dude. It’ll be like a saloon.” Ephram ignores this and says that the crawl space is too small, and that with the money from his piano lessons, he can afford to pay more rent, so that the rent on the apartment would no longer have to be split three ways. Bright, miraculously, catches on and quietly asks if Ephram actually wants to kick out Reid. Ephram rather meanly replies that they “don’t need him anymore.” Bright thinks this would be cold, particularly given that Reid is already dealing with so much med school stress. Ephram fakely agrees and says "never mind." Bright asks if it’s about the “toothpaste thing," because he can tell him to stop buying the vanilla kind. Ephram insists that it’s not that, and that Bright should just forget he said anything. Stunningly, Bright then observes that Ephram must have found out about Reid and Amy. Bright’s kind of an idiot savant in this episode. Ephram plays it cool, claiming to have known about them for a while. Bright points out that the relationship just started. Seriously, where was this Bright in the scene with Hannah and Amy? He is crazy perceptive here, at least comparatively speaking. Ephram lies that Amy told him about it when they got together, and that he just thought it would be “cool” if it were only he and Bright living together. Bright’s completely disregarding everything Ephram says at this point, and continues that he intended to tell Ephram if things between Amy and Reid became serious. Ephram says it’s not about that, he doesn’t care, he has to get ready for class. Bright shakes his head a little and probably rejoices over getting to be the emotionally mature one, at least for one scene.

Det. Daniels is hanging out in an examination room, somewhere. Andy, dressed in street clothes so we know he’s not involved in any of this, comes in and peppily announces that the CT scan is done. Det. Daniels gets all fancy and says that now they just need the “intravenous [something] to make sure my kidneys work.” Andy jokingly asks if doctors are even necessary with the existence of the internet. Given my own unsuccessful attempts to figure out what that word after "intravenous" was, I would say...yes. Det. Daniels apologizes for her craziness, but explains that the only way she can convince her father to take her kidney is to have all her arguments ready. Andy thinks she’d be better off going to law school for that. “Your dad’s kind of scary. He’s not going to go down without a fight.” Det. Daniels doesn’t understand why her father won’t let her give something up for him, given that he gave up “everything” for her. Andy seems to suddenly begin relating to Brian, and asks how old Det. Daniels was when her mother died. She replies that her mother didn’t die; she left when Det. Daniels was born. “I’ve thought about trying to find her, but then I realized...there was no point.” She catches on to Andy’s personal interest, and notes that he’s a single father. When he confirms, she tells him not to feel guilty, because she bets he’s doing “just fine.” Apparently she hasn’t seen Season 3. The doctor who actually performed the CT scan comes in with the results. He says that he is “a little surprised.” Andy, upon examining the results, looks shocked. Frankly, if I were Det. Daniels, I’d be freaking out just a tad at this point. Andy quickly explains the source of their shock, however: “You only have one kidney.” Det. Daniels, now shocked herself, hops off the examination table to get a closer look. Andy suggests that she was probably born that way. Det. Daniels thinks someone, perhaps herself, should have known about this before. Andy non-sequiturs that she can function perfectly well with only one. Det. Daniels realizes that this means she can’t help her father. Everyone, except maybe for random doctor dude, is very sad.

Abbott Kitchen of Hazardous Waste. Amy is getting something from the refrigerator when Bright enters, stunned by the disaster. “Man. You totally broke the house.” Hee. Amy declares that she plans to clean the next day, before Harold and Rose return. Bright says that it’s “too bad Mom and Dad are coming home today.” Amy is freaked. Bright is amused, because Amy is gullible. Amy throws a nearby Chinese take-out box at him, which I only mention because he starts eating from it. I’m not sure how he hasn’t given himself salmonella by this point. Bright sarcastically thanks Amy for telling Ephram about her and Reid. “Created all kinds of drama over the place, totally ruining my cereal time.” Amy insists that she never told Ephram, but Bright is a little doubtful, given that Ephram knows. Amy wonders how, then has an Amy-attack. “What did he say? Is he okay? Is he upset? Should I call him?” Bright imperiously tells Amy to get over herself. “It’s not like you’re his world. He’s fine.” Amy asks if Ephram is so fine, why is Bright there, giving her grief, instead of spending time with Hannah, whom, Amy points out, is a “mess.” Bright says he knows that, but that Amy is “better at, like, talking through stuff.” Amy replies that Hannah doesn’t need him to talk, just to listen. This worries Bright, who asks if Hannah said something to her. Amy: “No. I saw you being totally useless all by myself.” Heh. Amy declares that he’s Hannah’s boyfriend and needs to act like it. Bright glumly replies that he’s “starting to think [he’s] a pretty crappy boyfriend.” Amy needles him about the “starting to think” point, but Bright ignores this. Instead, he brings up the incidents of the other day, when he tried to get to second base with Hannah. Amy is appropriately repulsed to hear these details, and, hee! I paused this scene just as Amy’s reacting to the TMI, and Emily Vancamp has the best surprised/squicked-out expression. Nice work there. Anyway, Bright gets to his actual point, which is that this occurred just before she got the news about her father. Amy has two pieces of advice: “First, don’t use ‘bases.’ You’re not six, and a woman’s body is not a sports field.” Bright interrupts to sigh that he’s “so over” Amy’s women’s studies class. Which kind of begs the question of when he was under it, I suppose. Amy continues that Hannah probably doesn’t care anymore, since the subsequent events have likely thrown everything into perspective. Amy asks if he even remembers anything that happened the day they found out Rose had been diagnosed with cancer. Bright, a little slower on the uptake here than he was in the apartment scene, asks if Amy’s saying that Hannah doesn’t care about the Great Bra Incident anymore. Amy doubts that she even remembers it. “But she will remember that you weren’t there for her when she really needed you.” Bright looks thoughtful, which I think is the first time I've ever typed that.

Nina’s office at Sam’s. She’s working at her desk when Jake calls. She tells him how glad she is that he called, since she’s bogged down in paperwork and needs him to take care of dinner. Jake, actually, has called to inform Nina that he won’t be around for dinner [I don’t think that’s 24 hours notice...], which Nina indicates has become pretty typical. He goes on about how crazy his work has been, but Nina doesn’t really care. “My best friend just lost her husband, Hannah is freaking out, and, based on Sam’s new favorite word, I’m pretty sure he’s been sneaking episodes of Deadwood.” Hee! Jake: “Well, if he can understand what they’re talking about on that show, maybe he’s smart enough to raise himself.” But Nina is not in the mood for witty banter, and reminds Jake that he promised to take on less at work. He insists that he can’t just cancel appointments, but Nina thinks he can; “it’s just a matter of what’s important to you.” She ends the call and angrily drops her phone on the desk. After a few seconds, she picks up the phone to make another call, when she’s startled by the sudden appearance of Jake at her door. Jake tries to say something, between panting. Nina: “Oh my God you’re fast.” Jake attributes this to “Track team pant huff pant pant High school huff huff Which was a long time ago.” He apologizes for working so much. Nina understands, but just misses him, and admits that she’s been stressed out. Jake apologizes again and wants to be there for her, but just needs her to give him a few more weeks. Nina notes that he said the same thing a few weeks before, but says it’s fine, and she’ll figure out dinner. Jake gallops back off to his office, but not before telling Nina he loves her. Nina: “.....” Well, that’s a good sign.

Unsurprisingly, Nina and the Dysfunctionals share a dinner of pizza. Nina apologizes for not serving something homemade. Jayne stiffly assures her that it’s great, while Sam chirps that he loves pizza and launches into a monologue about his favorite kinds. Hannah, who is dressed unfortunately again after having a really cute outfit in the last episode, thanks Nina but says that she’s not hungry, and gets up from the table. Jayne orders Hannah to sit down, then modifies it with a “please.” Hannah glares at her mother for a moment, but complies. Jayne asks Hannah if she “think[s] this is easy for me.” Hannah asks how she could possibly know what her mother’s going through, as she never tells her anything. Jayne stares at her for a moment, because this is probably the most backtalk she’s ever heard out of her, before apologizing. She admits that she made a mistake, but was only trying to protect Hannah. Hannah asks from what, “saying goodbye to my own father?” Jayne replies that she wanted to protect her from “going through the nightmare of those last few days.” As she asks Hannah if she really wants to hear all the details, Nina hastily leads Sam out of the room. Hannah exclaims that she shouldn’t have to hear about them, but should have been there herself. Jayne asks why she would want to have those memories, and that she didn’t think Hannah should have to see her father in such terrible condition. “If the last year-and-a-half was too much for you...” Hannah denies ever having said that it was too much for her. Jayne, however, notes that Hannah left and came to Everwood. Hannah indignantly replies that Jayne was the one who sent her away, but Jayne insists that she only did it for her. “I never forced you to leave, Hannah. I offered you the option.” Hannah is still aghast, but seems to be recognizing the validity of Jayne’s statement. Jayne continues that she was glad Hannah did choose to leave, and wonders why Hannah would think she was trying to push her away. Hannah isn’t sure, meekly suggesting that her mother just didn’t want her there. Jayne: “I was scared out of my mind the day you left. Your brother was already gone, and suddenly it was just me and your father. There were days I didn’t speak to a single person. I’d order delivery just so I could talk to the guy who came to the door. Of course I wanted you there.” She concludes that she never wanted to go through it alone, and end up so alone, and marches off, in tears.

Andy and Harold’s waiting room. Andy greets Brian and Det. Daniels and observes that they’re late, and asks if they got his message. Brian says yes, “all six of them. Louise called me so many damn times, I started to think she was sweet on me.” Louise overshares that she got fired for that when she was a masseuse. Andy cuts her off before the story can become any more disturbing. He leads Brian and Det. Daniels into his office, saying that he has news: Brian’s now at the top of the donor list; they’ve found a match and can schedule the surgery immediately. Brian is overwhelmed and shares a nice moment with his daughter, who decides to take the opportunity to make a confession. She begins by saying that she didn’t want him to be mad, which prompts him to ask what he would be mad about; with some support from Andy, she tells Brian about their discovery of her only having one kidney. Brian, suddenly angry, asks why she had to do that. Det. Daniels is surprised to realize that he knew about her lack of a kidney, and asks why he never told her. He simply replies that he “can’t believe it,” which prompts Det. Daniels to wonder what he’s not telling her, and Andy to look distinctly uncomfortable. Brian comes out with it: Det. Daniels had a twin sister, who was born without kidneys. After praying and discussing the issue with doctors, he and his wife decided to have one of Det. Daniels’ kidneys transplanted into her sister, whom they named Michelle; she lived, but for only three days. Det. Daniels takes all this news about as well as one might expect, exclaiming that it’s “crazy” and demanding to know why he never told her. Brian didn’t know what good it would have done. Det. Daniels accuses him of taking her “truth” from her. Brian admits that he was scared, and feared that she might blame herself for Michelle’s death. He adds that her mother couldn’t handle any of it, and left as a result; Det. Daniels was all he had left. Det. Daniels doesn’t care, and stomps out, but not before stopping to call out Brian for betraying her trust. Andy continues to sit silently, realizing for the first time what it’s like to be an observer of his family life.

Apartment kitchen. Ephram is having cereal out of the large glass measuring cup, of which I guess they have several. Maybe that’s what they bought a set of instead of bowls. Reid enters; finding his coffee pot in the sink, he asks what happened to his coffee, as he just made a fresh pot. Ephram lies that he thought it was old and it smelled like it was burning, so he threw it out. Reid takes this pretty well, and calls it an “honest mistake.” Ephram: “Hey, let me ask you a question. I mean, no offense, but how does somebody go from an Ivy undergrad to Colorado A&M for med school? I mean, seems like kind of a huge step downward.” Now Ephram kind of sucks. Reid pretty much says it all: “You know, when you and I first met, I didn’t exactly get a warm and fuzzy, but lately, you’ve taken it up a notch. No offense, but you’re kind of being an ass.” Ephram just stares blankly, eating his cereal, which is only annoying me more because I hate watching people chew, so really, I’m all for a Reid-delivered smackdown right now. Reid continues that he already has a lot to deal with in med school, and doesn’t want his home environment to be uncomfortable, mentioning that home should be a “sanctuary.” Ephram asks if he’s going to eventually get to the point. Shut up, Ephram. Reid knows what’s actually going on, and says that he likes Amy, but has only been on three dates with her. He notes that Ephram and Amy “obviously” have a history, and says that he’s been in Ephram’s position before. Ephram gets all hormonal and snaps that Reid has no idea where Ephram’s been, and then asks what makes him think this is about Amy in the first place. Reid replies that he doesn’t have time to deal with all this. “In truth, I’m a big believer in the guy code, so if you want me to back off, I mean, if you really want me to stop dating Amy, I will.” Ephram thinks for a second, then says okay. “Stop dating Amy.” Reid is plainly not happy, but agrees. Before storming off, he suggests that Ephram tell Amy how he feels, because otherwise this whole thing is pointless. Ephram continues to chew, but more thoughtfully now.

Hannah lies on her bed, apparently lost in thought. Bright knocks and lets himself into her room, but says he can come back later if she’s “busy...with the ceiling.” Hannah says that she “didn’t want to be there;” Bright, naturally, asks where, and she says “home,” explaining that she had convinced herself that her mother sent her to Everwood, when really, she couldn’t handle her father’s illness. “‘Cause it was easier for me.” Bright sits down on the bed, and says that might be the case, or maybe she left because that was what was supposed to happen. “It’s like the hole-puncher.” Hannah: “Okay, normally I speak ‘Bright’ fluently, but you’re gonna have to elaborate.” Hee. Bright explains that it comes from the Intro to Philosophy course he’s taking; his professor once told a story about the hole-puncher, saying that there might be some who claim that it was invented and then people figured out what to do with it, while others might say that it was invented in order to make it easier to punch holes. Hannah, of course, gets the metaphor right away, and sits up. “If there were no God, man would surely have created one.” Bright is slightly baffled, but Hannah says it’s the same idea, minus the hole puncher; either God exists and preceded everything else, or humanity was so freaked out by everything else that it created the concept of something greater than itself. Bright thinks that the hole puncher story is easier. Hannah asks what he believes. Bright believes that “horrible things happen, but good stuff does come out of it. Just because you might not see the reasons why doesn’t mean that they’re not there.” Hannah asks if this means that he believes in God. He tells her not to get too excited – “I’m not going to Bible camp with you, don’t even ask,” heh – but yes, he thinks “God makes stuff happen.” Hannah wonders if God wanted her in Everwood. Bright thinks so; maybe if Hannah had been in Minnesota, her mother would have been too worried about her to take care of her father, something which Hannah seems to be taking into consideration. “All I know is I’m frickin’ happy that you came here. If you hadn’t....” Hannah asks what, so he goes on: “I never would have met you. And I never would’ve known I could feel this way about someone.” Hannah is very much moved. Bright concludes with an apology for trying to feel her up, which amuses her. Now it’s Hannah’s turn to make a grand statement: “I love you, Bright.” Bright is caught off-guard, but does not follow the longstanding tradition of saying nothing or something stupid after hearing this; which is to say, he returns the sentiment. He doesn’t seem to entirely mean it yet, or at least realize that he means it, but it’s a good gesture on his part. They kiss. And I have to say: aw, that was like a S3 conversation! Which is not surprising, because this episode? Was written by the same person who also wrote this scene. Good times.

Upbeat music plays while Amy cleans up the landfill that used to be the Abbott living room. She picks up and examines some mysterious object. Ephram suddenly manifests and readily IDs it: “Hairball mixed with carpet fuzz with remnants of what used to be a Dorito.” Heh. Amy finds both the object and Ephram’s quick identification of it scary. Ephram reminds her that he lives with Bright. He observes that the front door was wide open, which Amy explains was done in order to air out the smell. “It took my parents leaving for ten days for me to realize that I am actually a closet slob.” Ephram replies that he already knew. “Every time you left my garage last year, it was like Pig Pen had just been there. Sometimes when I think about you, I envision this, like, dust cloud over your head.” Hee! Amy retorts that this makes Ephram the “obsessive Peanut who’s always banging away at his piano.” Ephram remarks that “chicks love Schroeder.” Rats. I forgot that this is one of those scenes that makes me like the idea of E/A. Looks like the recap’s gonna be longer than I thought. Ephram half-heartedly pitches in, carrying the trashcan closer to Amy, before starting in with his actual reason for being there. He says that he wants to talk to her about something, to which Amy replies that she knows. Ephram is surprised. Amy continues, nonsensically: “Except I still don’t know how.” Ephram wonders if she means how she knows, but Amy actually means how he knows. Ephram and Amy: “I’m confused.” Hee. Amy speaks first, commenting that Ephram knows about Reid. Ephram confirms this, explaining that he saw them the other night in the apartment. Amy is more than a little mortified and apologizes. Ephram waves it away as no big deal, but Amy adds that she thought he and Bright were asleep, and that she had planned to tell Ephram if it turned serious. She concludes that she should have told Ephram about her feelings back when he first moved into the apartment. Ephram is plainly hurt to learn that Amy and Reid’s history predates his own moving in. Amy notes that she’s actually kind of the reason Reid’s even living there. She relates the whole sordid history of her crush and Reid’s seeming homosexuality. Ephram is still stuck on the idea that they even knew each other prior to Ephram’s return, but Amy presses on, apologizing some more for her handling of the situation. Ephram reiterates that it’s no big deal, and that whoever she chooses to date or hang out with has nothing to do with him. They’re just friends, and “should be able to talk about this stuff, or–or, also not have to talk about this stuff, or...huh, y’know, whatever we want!” Well, that sure sounds like a plan. Amy asks if that was what Ephram wanted to talk about. Ephram gives her a weak smile and says that it was; he wanted to make sure she didn’t feel weird about things. Amy thanks him. Ephram says he’ll see her around, and walks off, dejectedly...

...through the Brown back door! What a weird cut, because it would appear that it’s connected to the Abbott front door! Whatever! So Ephram tells Andy that he needs to eat dinner there tonight, “and possibly for the next twenty nights in a row, if that’s okay with you.” Andy is chopping something intently, and only answers with a “Hmm.” Ephram continues that he did something he shouldn’t have, “but I thought I would at least do the right thing to make up for that wrong thing, except I didn’t even do the thing I was going to do.” Andy makes another mm-hmm noise. Ephram: “So I’m moving to Alaska. I’m gonna work on a fishing boat. It’s dangerous, but the pay is good.” Andy: “Oh, that’s great!” Hee. After a couple of seconds, he finally looks up from his produce and asks “What?” before apologizing for his distraction. Ephram asks if it’s because of a patient, which Andy confirms that it is. Ephram assumes that the patient is dying, but Andy claims that the situation might be worse than that, but that he has no way of helping. He says that it’s a “long story,” however, and turns the conversation back over to Ephram. Ephram would rather hear Andy’s story. Andy neatly summarizes it as involving a father who kept something from his daughter and the potential destruction of their relationship. Ephram: “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Andy smiles, and it’s awfully nice how they can make quips about Madibabygate now. Ephram assumes that Det. Daniels will still have time to repair her relationship with Brian, provided he makes it through surgery, but Andy is concerned about Brian’s will to live through that surgery in the first place, and doubts that he’ll survive if his daughter isn’t there. Ephram thinks that Andy can convince her to be there, but Andy says that his involvement would feel somewhat hypocritical. “How can I ask this girl to forgive her father when I’ve barely begun to forgive myself for what I did to you?” The two stare at each other for a moment before Ephram remarks that he forgave Andy “a long time ago.” Andy smiles again, and, in an indication of their newly-harmonious relationship, chop produce together.

Jayne sits on Nina’s porch. Hannah comes out of the house, apparently having just talked with Amy on the phone. She explains that Harold and Rose are back and have invited she and Jayne to “some dessert thing,” which Hannah hastily assures her they don’t have to attend. Jayne, however, would very much like to go, particularly so she can meet “the legendary Dr. Abbott.” He is at that, Jayne. He is at that. Hannah stands awkwardly for a few moments, then apologizes for “everything” and joins her mother on the bench. Jayne offers her own apology. She then moves into an explanation for why Hannah’s father chose cremation over a funeral; he wanted to be remembered for his spirit rather than his disease. Hannah gets it, and Jayne continues that the memories his family and loved ones have of him are different, but when they put them together they make up who he was and...huh. It suddenly occurs to me that I might care more about this scene if I had some conception of who Hannah’s father actually was. Like, a name would be nice. Just sayin’. Jayne announces that she has something for Hannah, and the two walk into the house, where Hannah is presented with a small urn. Jayne explains that she divided his ashes into three, so each family member could “say goodbye in their own way, or never say goodbye at all.” Hannah hugs the urn and thanks her mother, adding that she really missed her. Jayne missed Hannah, too. And they hug. It's just that kind of an episode.

Sam’s. Andy and Det. Daniels sit at a table; Andy thanks her for agreeing to meet him, she says it’s on her way home from work and she’s a big fan of the Hazelnut Toffee Mochas, she knows that Andy wants her at Brian’s surgery. Andy tells her it's scheduled for Friday at 9, and adds that he’ll reschedule it if the time doesn’t work for her. Det. Daniels refuses to go, however, even though she knows Andy must think she’s a terrible person. Andy admits that he’s made too many mistakes to pass judgment on anyone else. Det. Daniels asks why she’s there, then. Andy says that he thought it might be better for her to talk with someone who could relate to what she’s going through. Det. Daniels appreciates his effort, but insists that talking about it won’t change what happened. Andy: “The damage is already done, that’s the past. But what I’m trying to do is to protect your future. And I’m telling you that even though you don’t think you can forgive your father, it is possible.” Det. Daniels wonders how he can say that. Andy smiles and confesses that he, as a father, has done the unforgivable and was forgiven. He stands and introduces Ephram, who’s sitting at an adjacent table. Ephram takes over Andy’s seat, and the scene ends there, though I would really, really love to hear that particular conversation. “Uh, yeah, so when I was 16 I got my 21-year-old girlfriend pregnant, but she told my dad first and then he paid her to go off somewhere else, and I didn’t find out about the kid until I randomly ran into that ex in New York, and she told me he’d been adopted by some couple in Marin County. And then I blew off my Juilliard audition, sold a bunch of piano equipment my dad had bought out of guilt, and bummed around Europe for a few months. You?”

Haroldesque music plays, this time with some kind of whimsical “jungle” twist, while slides of various animals are displayed. Harold, in reference to a slide showing an open-mouthed hippopotamus, makes a joke about tongue depressors. It’s not worth quoting. Most of those gathered in the Abbott living room laugh lamely, while Bright leans over to assure Hannah that it should only take “about ten more hours.” Which is only about twice as long as this episode is starting to feel. Harold notes that the man standing with him in the next slide is Masai [dreams do come true, Harold!]. Edna asks who the “moron in the George of the Jungle outfit” is. Heh. Everyone laughs more genuinely at this. Irv tells a charming story about Masai circumcision customs. Harold tells Irv that he’s just “full of fascinating tidbits,” while Edna explains that he’s researching his next book. [That he’ll never finish! Aw.] Rose enters, carrying a tray of something, and tells Amy how “fantastic” the house looks. Amy: “Oh, well, when you clean as you go, it’s not so hard.” Bright rolls his eyes a little. Harold points out the next slide to Rose, which shows her surrounded by children. She mentions that Linda took them to some village where they met lots of orphans. Hannah and Bright exchange some look that seems meaningful, though I’ve no idea why, actually, unless they’ve just realized what Harold and Rose’s next story arc is going to be. Harold informs Jayne who Linda is, but Jayne, a little coldly, says that Hannah already told her. Harold remarks that Jayne probably knows more about the Abbotts than he does, and Jayne replies that she thinks it “goes both ways.” Okay, then: Harold, can you tell me what Hannah’s father’s name was? Jayne procedes to thank him for everything. Harold declares that thanks are unnecessary, and that Hannah is both a “joy” and a “virtual Abbott.” Amy offers a rather sarcastic “lucky her,” so apparently she’s hormonal now, too. Jayne observes how loved Hannah seems to be by all of them. “You really have become another family for her...which is why this is so difficult to say.” Amy, quite reasonably, asks what Jayne means. Jayne continues to speak for her daughter, who’s in tears and looking fairly unwell; she says that she and Hannah have talked about it, and Hannah’s decided to leave with Jayne the next week. Bright asks if they’re going on another cruise. Jayne, in an awfully patronizing tone, explains that Hannah’s returning to Minnesota. Hannah sadly and reluctantly turns to Bright and Amy. Bright looks betrayed. Amy, suddenly on the verge of tears herself, asks “What?” Hannah takes a deep breath and finally speaks. “It’s just that my mom has had so much to deal with by herself over the last two years...and...well, now there’s really no reason for me to stay.” Ah...we’ve come almost full circle. Because right now? Hannah kind of sucks. The first reaction shot is Harold’s, but that’s probably only because spending too much time on Bright’s would only result in hearts breaking everywhere. There’s that saying about how someone looks as though his dog just got shot? We’re talking puppies, people. Litters and litters. Kittens, too. Even Temporarily Sucky Hannah is moved, as she hastily apologizes and says that it came out wrong. “It’s just...I think it’s time for me to go home.” Then they cut to Bright again, because they’re evil.

Andy, meanwhile, is at home enjoying a college basketball game. Ephram enters, and Andy asks how his talk with Det. Daniels went. Ephram doesn’t know what she’s decided, but mentions that she seemed “pretty cool” about it. “It’s amazing though – all this time I thought you were the worst dad in the world; turns out, not so much.” Andy: “Gee, I’m touched. Thank you.” Hee. Ephram says he enjoyed having the opportunity to help someone out, though he doesn’t know if it made a difference. Andy is glad that he was at least willing to try. Ephram notes that for the first time, he could understand why people become doctors. “It’s not just about saving people’s lives; sometimes it’s about helping them save their own lives.” Andy says that’s true of good days, at least. Then he reveals Ephram’s reward for doing a good deed: a big platter of chips and salsa. Which would seem to complement the game nicely, but then Andy turns off the television [which, I have to wonder what kind of a basketball fan he is to do that, but whatever] and reminds Ephram that he had wanted to tell Andy something. Andy assumes it’s about Amy, but Ephram says he can’t remember. “Let’s just leave it at: I’m a loser.” Andy: “Yeah, well, unfortunately, you get that from my side of the family. But hey! Your mom’s genes could kick in any day now.” Ephram thanks Andy for the “inspiring” thought. Andy, more seriously, guesses that he didn’t tell Amy about his feelings. “I suppose a ‘don’t be so hard on yourself’ would be wasted here?” Ephram requests something less “generic.” Andy draws on his own “recent” experience with Nina to suggest that sometimes, telling someone how you feel doesn’t change anything. Aw, Andy. You really ought to start offering motivational seminars. Oh, but wait! Clearly Ephram is still ignorant of the Andy/Nina antics, because he asks about Andy’s “recent someone.” Andy begins to recount the tragic tale, while we pull out to view Ephram and Andy through the window, in a shot somewhat reminiscent of the closing scene of the Pilot. It’s nice to at least end the episode on a good note.

Next time: Hannah gets her own A-storyline, but is bedeviled by mediocre writing; Andy and Harold consider jumping out of a plane to their deaths; and Jake’s friend Cliff discovers that names really are destiny.

Free Fall

Brown kitchen. The camera pans over a counter littered with dirty bakeware and entirely too few cookies for the mess that’s been made. Andy stands idly by, sipping some coffee. Ephram comes in through the kitchen back door, carrying a huge trash bag and resembling a slum-based Santa Claus. “Whoa. Looks like you and Mrs. Fields hooked up and threw a rager.” Andy explains that he and Delia were up until midnight baking for her school’s bake sale. He adds that he’s been standing there for twenty minutes attempting to devise a strategy to tackle the mess. Ephram suggests hosing the place down. Andy concurs. Spotting Ephram’s gigantic garbage bag and sounding hopeful, he asks if Ephram’s moving back home. Ephram mutters that he’s just there to do laundry. But Andy goes on, happily observing that they see Ephram more often now than when he lived there. Ephram says that it’s only because the Laundromat is so expensive. “And seriously, who can amass that many quarters?” As everything’s going so swimmingly, Andy decides it’s time to interfere in Ephram’s love life. He announces that he “thinks” he has something to tell him. Ephram asks what it is. “Well, I think I should tell you. I mean, I don’t know for sure. It kind of falls into that awkward gray area that you might consider meddling.” Ephram, fearing that his father has become possessed by one of the show’s young female characters, cuts him off. Andy gets to the point: “I think Amy’s dating someone.” Ephram is in disbelief. Andy explains how he overheard her telling Hannah about kissing some guy. Ephram remains in disbelief, exclaiming that he just talked to Amy “the other day” [meaning, four episodes ago, judging from what he says next] and that Andy must have misheard. Andy concedes that this is possible, while Ephram continues to flip out. “I mean, ‘cause when I was talking to her, I asked her if ‘you’re dating anybody’ and she said no, she’s not dating anybody, so it’s...” Andy, now deeply frightened, repeats that he must have heard wrong. Ephram affirms this and starts to walk away. Andy asks for confirmation that he was right to tell Ephram, which Ephram provides. Delia enters, declaring that she and Andy need to leave right away. Andy notes that it’s only 7:50, but Delia explains that they have to be there early if they want to sell before school. “Kids like to get hopped up on sugar before class. Come on!” They leave, while Ephram, who...I thought left already, actually, smiles and then looks pensive. Which is to say, he has a facial expression. From now on, whenever he appears to be contemplating something, I’m just going to say: Ephram looks normal.

So Andy and Delia walk out of the house at, wouldn’t you know, the very same moment that Nina, Jake, and Sam are leaving their house. Jake is helping Sam into the SUV when he spots Andy and mutters “Great.” Nina implores him to “be nice,” and greets Andy, who responds in kind. He also asks Jake how he is. Jake is hiding behind the car door and does not respond at all, which is probably better, at least, than Jake extending one finger above the car door. Delia tells Nina about the baking of the rocky road cookies, including how they managed to get the recipe to taste just like hers. Delia also mentions that she wanted to invite Nina over to help, but that Andy insisted they go it alone. He excuses this as being a way to “conquer [his] deep-seated fear of baking.” Nina assures Delia that the cookies look perfect, and Delia beams at this, and all is well until Jake notices that all is well, and yells that they’re going to be late. Andy replies that they also have to go, and he and Delia head to their SUV. Nina gazes at them a little mournfully before getting into the car.

Apartment of Multiple Health Code Violations. Amy and Hannah are hanging out in the living room. Bright appears and asks if anyone has seen his basketball shoes. Hannah accurately observes that there’s no way of knowing if they’re out there. While he returns to his bedroom to look, Hannah starts picking things up and tossing them into an empty box that is either just conveniently there, or that she smuggled in without anyone’s knowledge. I’m kind of leaning towards the latter, because it’s weirder. Amy admonishes her not to clean up after the guys. Hannah: “I can’t help it! I know as soon as I finish, the room will go right back to looking like it’s just been robbed, but I can’t stand by and do nothing!” Hannah’s such a mom. Amy wonders what the weird smell is. “I think you just dislodged something.” Hannah replies that it’s been like that since they got there. Bright reemerges, having presumably located his footwear, and says the game should be over at 4 and he’ll call Hannah then. Then he kisses her on the forehead and grabs from her hands an old, open bag of chips. Hannah gazes at him in disgust, while oblivious Amy observes that “that’s the beauty of having a boyfriend. You know where he is, you know he’s going to call, unlike me, who Reid kissed, over a week ago, and who knows nothing!” Hannah shoots Amy a hilarious look that I’m pretty sure I’ve worn during many of these little Amy attacks. Amy continues to moan about how Reid’s never at Sam’s or A&M or even his own apartment. On that last note, Hannah declares that Amy has “taken stalking to a whole new level” as she is “lying in wait inside of his house.” She wonders what Amy will say if he actually walks through the door. Amy breezily replies that she doesn’t know. Off Hannah’s challenging look, Amy says that she just wants to see how he acts around her, to determine if he’s glad to see her or not. Hannah gives her another excellently stern look, so Amy insists that she’ll only wait five more minutes. Hannah: “So this is what a psychotic break looks like.” Amy restates her mission, which is to get some sense of what’s going on. “Has Bright even seen Reid? What if he’s dead, or in the hospital or something?” Hannah laughs at this, momentarily forgetting that they’re on Everwood, where this kind of tragic twist actually happens fairly routinely. Amy protests, insisting that sometimes there must be legitimate life-and-death reasons that a guy doesn’t call. Hannah makes the wacky suggestion that Amy just call Reid and ask him out. Amy draws herself up and looks...rather baffled, and shocked, maybe a little scandalized. “I’ve never asked a guy out.” She adds that it would be humiliating if he said no. Hannah insists that he won’t say no, given that he kissed her and thus “clearly, obviously, already likes” her. Hannah stops cleaning and sits next to her on the couch. Amy: “It could’ve been a pity kiss. Or like, a momentary surge of hormones. Who knows? I certainly don’t, because there’s been no follow-up.” Hannah thinks there’s only one way to find out, and it’s not “by hiding under his couch waiting for him to come home.” Besides which, something else is apparently hiding under the couch already, as Hannah shifts uncomfortably and reaches under the cushion, from which she retrieves a plate holding an antique slice of pizza. Which she sniffs, for some reason, because there was a possibility that it wasn’t the source of the mysterious odor? Hannah has her own equivalent of an Amy freak-out. “Ew, ew, ew. Okay, it is time to go. We’re going right now. Right now. Time to go.” She has to drag a reluctant Amy out the door, because for Amy, love conquers exposure to hazardous materials.

Piano lesson. Kyle is showing off some embellishments he’s been considering for that one song he knows. Ephram has his back turned to Kyle, and is paying no attention. Kyle worries that the embellishments might be “too much,” and Ephram suddenly remembers where he is, turns around, and says no. Kyle continues that he finally listened to the Thelonious Monk CD that Ephram’s “been bugging [him] about” [he’s making him listen to recordings of great jazz pianists! He’s being all Will Cleveland-y! Eeeee!] and admits that he liked how Monk was both “chill” and “crazy.” Ephram: “Yeah, he’s like that.” Heh. Kyle asks what’s wrong with Ephram, since he’s typically “so rah-rah.” Ephram replies that he left his pom-poms at home. Kyle notes that Ephram hasn’t even reacted to the fact that Kyle actually listened to one of his recommended CDs. Ephram replies that he’s more surprised by the fact that Kyle is smiling, as “that’s got to be one of the four signs [sic] of the apocalypse.” Kyle gets up suddenly to retrieve a paper from his backpack. He hands it to Ephram, declaring “Juilliard application: done,” while sitting back down on the bench. As he goes on about attending “the best music school in the world” in a few months’ time, Ephram scans the application, unimpressed. Kyle asks what’s wrong. Ephram says, with a good dose of skepticism, that Kyle’s filled out an application before. Kyle phonily replies that he has. “So you know that you can’t send it in in pencil, right?” Hee. Kyle angrily tears it from Ephram’s hands and says that it’s only a rough draft and he’ll go over it later in pen. He also decides that Ephram is just jealous because he’ll be stuck “teaching a bunch of losers” while Kyle’s living it up in New York. Ephram tries to set his student straight, explaining that while they’re both doing everything they can to get him into Juilliard, his, or anyone’s, chances of being accepted are very slim. “I don’t want you getting to a place where your entire life revolves around getting into Juilliard. Just trust me, I’ve been there. It’s not pretty.” Apparently someone’s suddenly feeling a little cranky again, because: “Well, maybe you didn’t get in, but I think we can agree I’m a genius.” Ha! How Ephram gets through a lesson without decking him/regularly bursting into laughter is astounding. Ephram puts sheet music in front of the “genius” and tells him to show him what he has. What Kyle has is...one song. Oooh.

Sam’s. Andy is paying for something when Nina walks up and asks if he’s tried the Southwestern Salad. Andy confesses he hasn’t, as he’s no fan of jicama, which he always thought “tasted like wet Styrofoam.” Then: “Maybe I’ll get one for Harold.” Hee. As he walks over to do this, Nina jumps in front of him, insisting that they need to talk about something. She indicates an empty table, and, as they sit, adds that she’s been meaning to say something for awhile. She begins by admitting that she hasn’t taken Andy up on his offer of friendship from a few episodes ago, because she doesn’t know how to do it. “I mean, I know how, I mean, we’ve obviously been friends for a long time, I mean, we are friends, it’s just I...I didn’t know how to around Jake. I mean, I mean, not that he couldn’t handle it...” Nina realizes that this isn’t going well. It’s not your fault, Nina. Amyspeak is catching this week. Andy, remembering his own earlier issues, jokes that it’s nice to not be the only one who can’t finish a sentence. Nina thinks all the tension is too high school, like her new boyfriend can’t get along with her friend. She wants the three of them to be able to be friends again, and she wants to be able to be involved in Delia’s life, without hurting Jake in the process. Nina suggests that Andy try apologizing to Jake. Andy rebuts that he did apologize, with the result being that Jake “practically tore [his] head off at the post office.” Nina hopefully thinks that perhaps the “second time’s a charm.” Andy points out the very pertinent fact that Jake can’t bear being in the same room with him, and says something he’ll be regretting pretty soon: “It would take a mediator to get us to sit down together.” Nina refuses to see the situation as hopeless; Andy asserts that it’s not hopeless, but it’s not hopeful, either. He now makes his second mistake, claiming that he’s willing to do “whatever it takes.” Nina is feeling confident now, and says she’ll work on Jake and get back to Andy later. Andy: “You know where to find me: avoiding the jicama.”

Rose is dusting the living room drapes and asks Harold, who has just walked in, if they seem faded to him. Harold, examining the credit card bill, ignores her in order to declare that someone has “purloined” their identity. He indicates the $11,000 charge to “Free Horizon,” failing to notice Rose’s "uhhh...." expression. He speculates about what they offer. “Probably something degenerate. Some species of pornography or video blackjack. Which means it’s probably Bright! Rose, what is the boy’s number?” Man, doesn’t say much for the state of that father-son relationship, but...ha! Rose admits that she’s the one who made the purchase. Harold: “You were buying pornography?” And now, hee. Rose says that no, when they were awaiting the PET scan results, she booked a trip to Africa, but cancelled it soon after. Harold wonders why the interest in Africa. Rose thought that, in case the cancer returned, they should have one last family vacation. Harold is a little surprised to learn that she genuinely thought she was going to die. Rose confesses that a part of her thought that. When Harold notes that she never said that, Rose replies that there were probably a lot of things that neither of them wanted to say at the time. Harold insists that they talk now. “You’re alive, you’re healthy, the world is yours for the taking. Have you thought about what it is that you want to do now?” Rose isn’t sure, actually, particularly as she wasn’t expecting to lose her job. Harold dismisses any concerns about that, as “anyone who can run this town the way you did without resorting to strangling each and every one of its whining citizens can do anything.” Rose thanks him for this, and announces that in the meantime, she’ll take the opportunity to try out all those fancy dinner recipes she hasn’t had time to try over the last ten years. She kisses Harold and heads for the kitchen, while...oh, whatever. I’ll just say it for all the characters. He looks normal.

Either they eat a little early in Nina’s house, or we’ve had a time lapse of about an hour, because Nina, Jake, Sam, and Hannah are gathered at the table eating dinner. Jake is talking about his day, which was filled with patients coming in for what he refers to as "treatments," including four who came in from Denver for collagen injections. Hannah, who is currently attempting to suppress her seething hatred for Jake, lightly asks if they don’t have doctors in Denver. Nina says that as Jake is from LA, potential patients expect him to make them look like Jessica Simpson. Jake tells Nina that was “sweet” of her, while Sam, out of the blue, remarks that he prefers Lindsay Lohan. Sometimes I love recapping things from two years ago. Hannah, for her part, tells Sam that it “disturbs me that you even know who either of them are.” Nina decides it’s a safe time to broach the subject – well, propose it outright, actually – of having the Browns over for a barbecue. Hannah’s so enthusiastic about the idea that I wonder if Nina paid her off, but Jake says they should “wait and see.” Nina presses a little harder, saying that they need to pick a date so they can ask if the Browns are free. Jake, unsurprisingly, would prefer they “hold off for now.” Nina, ever persistent, asks why, as their schedules are open and she’d take care of the preparations. Hannah looks back and forth at the two during this exchange, and issues her own challenge to Jake: “Yeah, why can’t we do it?” Judging from the glare she’s shooting him, I’m thinking the seething hatred isn’t so much being suppressed anymore. Sam echoes her question. Everything gets quiet and awkward when the other three realize that continued exposure to this conversation is only going to mean about $10,000 more for Sam's future psychiatrist. Hannah quickly tells Sam that she has to show him something, and it will “be really fun. Maybe we can play with magic!” Or possibly "matches," but if that's the case, then Nina should probably find a new babysitter. Once they’re out of the room, Jake thanks Nina for the “ambush.” Nina apologizes but says that she didn’t know how else to get them talking about Andy. She brings up his morning rudeness, which Jake takes to mean he’s the “bad guy,” but Nina protests that there shouldn’t be a bad guy; they should all be friends! Yay! Jake is sane, and confesses that he doesn’t see that happening anytime soon. But Nina does, and not just with Andy, but with the whole family! So...what, Ephram’s part of this, too? “Whole family” implies more than just Andy and Delia, but I really don’t see him just hanging with Nina, Jake, or Sam in the near future or...ever. Anyway, Jake is still not having this and points out that Nina and Andy’s history is intense, and asks how she would feel if the situation were reversed. Nina admits that she would find it difficult, but would deal with it if it meant so much to Jake. Jake angrily asks why it means so much to her, and if it’s because she still has feelings for Andy. Nina, practically tearing up at this point, says that that’s not it; she misses seeing the family. “I used to watch Delia almost every day after school. She was over here constantly playing with Sam. And I liked being able to just drop by next door and have a cup of coffee.” Jake, finally realizing the depth of her distress, relents and says he’ll give the friendly thing a try. Nina brings up Andy’s earlier reference to communicating through a mediator, and turns this into a suggestion that he and Jake see a counselor. Wacky, Haroldesque music starts up, so we can sense how well this is going to go. Jake is dubious, to say the least, but Nina thinks that it could really help. Jake refuses to go into therapy with Andy, but Nina insists that it isn’t therapy, it’s “just having a mediator to mediate” between them. Jake huffs that he can talk to Andy himself, but Nina, who’s seen the last few episodes, says that they’ll just talk for five minutes and nothing will change. She uses a little psychology of her own, noting that Andy’s on board but if Jake’s uncomfortable... He laughs this aside, reminding her that he’s from LA, where everyone “starts therapy at the age of six.” Nina is more serious, and reminds Jake that he and Andy were friends once. Jake astutely observes that this was before Andy kissed her. Nina asks him just to talk to Andy. Jake states that he must love her a lot, because he agrees to do it. They hug. Nina is happy. Jake is pained and lets out a long, melodramatic sigh to make sure we know it.

Sam’s, the restaurant, not the increasingly confused young boy. (I added a word, but mostly TM AB Chao. That line totally just popped into my head when the scene started. This is what I remember instead of College Algebra). Reid is there, studying. Amy is, of course, waitressing, because we haven't yet reached the part of the season where they care much about her academic storyline, so right now this is pretty much all she does. She sees her beloved and, naturally, starts looking for some way to escape. Reid spots her, too, though, and calls her name. Having been caught, she walks up to his table and mentions that she hasn’t seen him around much. He explains that he’s been “drowning in work lately,” and adds that he’s reconsidering his childhood dream of becoming a game show host. Okay, I’ll give you this one, Reid: hee. Also, he’s totally got the teeth for the gig. He mentions the 200 pages of reading he has for the next day’s Cell Bio. Amy wonders if he can’t just skim it, but Reid doesn’t think his future patients would appreciate that. Reid, I’m going to need you to stop being mildly entertaining, because it’s making me feel weird. Amy assumes that given the homework load, he’s busy every night, but Reid coyly replies that he’s free Friday. Uncoyly, he asks if Amy would like to do something then. Amy has a minor stroke, then casually replies “Sure.” Reid tells her about a reading on campus that night by some David Sedaris-type and asks if she’d like to check it out with him. Amy doesn’t appear to have ever heard of David Sedaris, but does heart Reid, and so, says that it would be “awesome.” She walks away, all smiles, and proceeds to run into Ephram, who’s standing at the counter and, it’s worth noting, having a really bad hair day. Noticing her weirdness, Ephram asks if she just stole something. Heh, though after that muffin incident a few episodes ago, one would think his first thought would be that she had just polished off a customer’s quiche. Amy denies this, while still acting weird and giggly. Ephram says that he’s actually glad he ran into her, and develops his own case of Amyspeak as it takes him almost twice as long as it should to ask if Bright told her about The Killers concert that Friday. Amy is a little dismayed at the unfortunate confluence of dates. Ephram adds that he’s about to pick up tickets, and asks if she’d like to go with him. Amy reluctantly admits that she can’t. Ephram, in a tone that indicates he already knows the answer, but really doesn't want to believe it, asks if she has a “date or something.” Amy nods almost imperceptibly, and Ephram’s expression rapidly transforms from merry to mildly suicidal. Amy apologizes and suggests that maybe they shouldn’t be discussing this kind of thing, but Ephram says it’s great, it’s no big deal, it’s awesome. Amy utters a meek “thanks.” Hee. Ephram offers to “do the band thing” with her some other time. Amy replies with a noncommittal and awfully uncomfortable “totally.” Ephram suddenly flashes a big, dorky grin, which is Amy’s cue to get back to work. Ephram watches her, looking normal.

The following morning. Rose is in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee, when Harold enters and hands her a list of 52 potential careers and activities to pursue. He further describes it as a “lavish buffet of choices,” including “meaningful social service” and jobs that promise fun and “a disgusting amount of remuneration.” Rose notes, amusedly, that he’s listed “corporate lawyer” as one option. Harold thinks it’s time for her to get a fresh start. “Now is time to think outside the proverbial box and reach for the stars.” Now is apparently also the time to mix one’s metaphors, though I think this is as bad an idea as beating a dead horse midstream in order to make it drink. Rose understates that she wasn’t expecting “this,” which Harold takes to mean that she’s fretting about the future. He promises that, as a good husband, he’ll support and advise her. “I am not going to let you drown in middle age.” Rose reacts to this about as well as she should, and rather testily observes that she wasn’t aware she was drowning. Harold is incapable of reading a room, and continues down the same cheery path. “A woman at your stage of life, with a newly-empty nest [somewhere, Amy is suddenly feeling neglected without even knowing why], already highly susceptible to depression...add to that losing a job.” He concludes that it’s a proven medical fact that employed women have better health and less anxiety than unemployed. Rose wryly remarks that she thought she was “flying high after beating cancer.” Harold assures her that she is, but that he doesn’t want her to “stall and lose altitude.” Rose is still unconvinced, but lets it go as Harold beams at her hopefully just before departing.

Andy’s office. A very happy Nina knocks on his open door and then strides in, announcing her terrific news: Andy’s coming over the next day for a pow-wow with Jake. She calls herself a “genius,” then tells Andy that he’ll love “Leslie.” Andy, quite reasonably, asks who Leslie is, so Nina identifies her as a “friend of a friend” who usually only does couples counseling but has graciously agreed to serve as a mediator for Andy and Jake. Andy: “You hired a marriage counselor?” Much like someone who emphasizes the wrong syl-la-ble, Nina totally picks up on the least important part of Andy’s statement, explaining that Leslie agreed to do it as a favor. Andy is not having this, but Nina starts to get pouty and says that she thought he was willing to do whatever was necessary. Andy: “Yeah, but I didn’t think that included couples counseling with your boyfriend. Who, by the way, is not my boyfriend.” True; Andy and Harold seem to be going pretty strong. Nina stresses how important this is to her. Andy wonders if he and Jake are supposed to discuss her while Leslie the Therapist sits by, and comments on how weird this would be. Nina insists that it needn’t be weird as, after all, “it’s not like there’s anything romantic going on between us.” This is evidently news to Andy, who momentarily looks like a man who’s just been stabbed. He recovers, and replies that he wasn’t suggesting that there was. Nina adds that “the whole thing’s been blown out of proportion” and gives him a somewhat inappropriately-flirty smile, so Andy agrees to the meeting. She proceeds to kiss him on the neck and tell him he’s “the best,” and seriously, Nina’s gotten to be as oblivious as Jake was back in the season premiere. She strides out as triumphantly as she strode in, giving Andy more flirty smiles as she leaves. Once she’s gone, Andy drops his own smile and mutters, “Oh, God.”

Piano lesson. Kyle is playing...a classical piece! Yay, Kyle! After a few seconds, Ephram informs Kyle, who’s already playing way below his usual tempo, that he’s rushing through the section; Kyle replies that if he plays any slower, he’ll be unconscious. Ephram calls for a break. As Kyle shuffles through his sheet music, Ephram asks why his scowl’s returned, to which Kyle replies with a “Bite me.” Ephram humorously, if a little non-sequiturly, replies that “I would, except that I know Juilliard only takes happy people, so...” Kyle snaps that he’s not going to Juilliard. Ephram: “Since when? Couldn’t find a pen for your application?” Yeah, that was awfully snotty coming from a teacher, but then, I’m pretty sure I’ve said snottier things to a few of my more unpleasant students just over the past week. Uh. So, um, this remark, in any case, brings out a forceful “screw you” from Kyle, which brings out a better line from his teacher: “You know, one of these days you’re going to run out of fake profanity and you’re going to have to start using real profanity, where you won’t want to mess with me, ‘cause I’m from New York. We pretty much invented it.” He concludes that it would be easier if Kyle just told him what was wrong. Kyle admits that he can’t afford the $100 application fee. Ephram is a little taken aback, but perhaps not enough so, as he suggests that Kyle will have no problem finding that kind of money. Oh, Ephram. Kyle asks what Ephram’s father does for a living; Ephram, who acts a little like he expects Kyle to already know, says matter-of-factly that he’s a surgeon. Kyle replies that he “knew” Andy had to be either a doctor or a lawyer. Heh. Ephram totally rocks that world-weary-privileged-youth-trying-to-make-it-on-his-own attitude, doesn’t he? Ephram is also totally rocking that Not Getting It, At All attitude, as his response to Kyle’s impending meltdown about the unfairness of income distribution and the class structure is a mildly bemused “okay.” Kyle decries the entitlement of rich people and their assumptions that other people have as much expendable wealth as they do. Ephram is quick to assert that he “didn’t say that,” because apparently his remark about the relative ease with which Kyle could raise $100 was intended to be ironic or something. Kyle continues that his mother makes $5.15 an hour and he doesn’t even get an allowance, and she’d laugh at him if he asked for $100. Ephram, still Not Getting It, At All, offers to pay the fee. Kyle refuses his “charity,” even though Ephram insists that it’s a “loan.” Kyle insists that it’s not, especially as Ephram’s already giving him free lessons. “I can’t pay for them, and I can’t pay for this, either. It’s pathetic.” As Ephram starts to look normal, Kyle wonders how, even if he got a scholarship to Juilliard, he would manage to pay for plane tickets or books. Ephram assures him they can think about all that “when the time comes,” but Kyle replies that it doesn’t matter. Ephram watches as he gets ready to leave, and right before exiting, Kyle offers a few last words. “If I’m not going to Juilliard, what’s the point of doing this anymore? Thanks for whatever.” Ephram begins to Get It.

Amy and Reid, post-date. As they discuss the funniness of Not!DavidSedaris’ reading, some guy, whom Reid identifies as a classmate from Embryology, greets them. This encounter seems to toggle Reid’s “med student” switch. Amy suggests that they get something to eat, but Reid begs out, as he got “reamed in lab” that day and so has a lot of studying to do for the practicum in next day’s lab. Amy is disappointed, but says okay. And...they walk, for approximately 6 minutes, in silence, lost in normality.

Ephram approaches a large, if ramshackle, house, and knocks on the door. Unsurprisingly, Kyle answers, and demands to know why Ephram is there. Ephram offers a sarcastic and, if I may say, uninspired, “Nice to see you, too.” Kyle reminds Ephram that he quit, meaning that Ephram is fired, but Ephram rebuts that you can’t actually fire someone you’re not paying. I don’t think he’s quite right about that, but whatever. Kyle doesn’t want to play piano anymore, but Ephram assures him he won’t be, and demands that he come with him. Kyle: “You really have nothing going on in your life, do you?” Heh. And, nope. But neither does Kyle, apparently, as he gets his coat and follows.

Casa Nina, where someone is ringing the doorbell. It’s Andy, whom Nina ushers into the living room, where Jake and Leslie the Therapist lie in wait. Greetings all around. It’s all very civil. Sam bounds down the stairs, because his trip to the movies with Nina is her excuse to be out of the house for this whole little session. She hopes that the men “have fun.” Andy: “Nothing says fun like therapy with another man!” Hee. Leslie the Therapist finds his sarcasm “interesting.” Andy panics. “I didn’t know this part counted.” Jake intensely replies that “it all counts.” Nina and Sam are still there, incidentally, probably because they’ve realized that this will be far more entertaining than whatever lame kids’ movies were out in late 2005. Andy worries that now he’ll have points deducted. Jake: “Too late. You’re minus two. You keep screeching like that, I’ll have won this thing before we hit the couch.” The best part about this is that Jake isn’t even trying to mess with Andy’s head by encouraging his concerns about therapy. He’s Dead. Serious. Leslie the Therapist insists that it’s not about winning, so Andy suggests that she take two points off of Jake’s score for trying to make it so, hee. Nina decides that it’s probably better not to lose any more respect than she already has for either of the men, so wishes Leslie good luck and hustles Sam out. Leslie decides to introduce some levity by remarking on how her first question is usually about a couple’s sexual problems, “but clearly that’s not going to work here!” Andy and Jake exchange a rather disturbing glance.

Apartment. Bright is washing dishes (!) while Amy is blathering on about how early the date ended and if it even constituted a date if there was no dinner. Bright: “Not unless there was beer or skinny-dipping.” Cut to Hannah sitting at the counter, who chastises him with a “Bright!” Hee, which isn’t diminished by Bright’s replying with a cute little smile to show he’s joking. Amy blathers on some more, then notices that Bright has only washed one glass, which he is currently using; he replies that that was all he needed. Hannah suggests that Reid might just be playing hard-to-get, because I guess she thinks Reid is a girl. Amy overdramatizes that it’s over. Bright wonders if it was ever really started. Amy insists that it WAS, and now it’s OVER, and blathers on some more while Hannah and Bright share a series of awesome, “wow, she’s loony, but we love her anyway” looks. They’ve got a whole silent conversation going on, completely unbeknownst to Amy. Amy goes on about how they never even talked on their one, sad little date, and then panics that she may have laughed at the wrong moments. And, okay, I cannot recap this scene impartially, because I’ve already mentioned my usual reaction to Amy’s relationship fugue states. So I continue to find it awesome when Bright mouths "my God" and makes this simultaneously weary/mocking face, and Hannah kind of has to stop herself from doing the same thing, because she’s the ‘supportive best friend’ and not the ‘obnoxious older brother.’ Hannah assures her that she has a “perfect instinct for knowing when to laugh.” Amy thanks her, but thinks it doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s over it and over him. Until, of course, he walks in. Bright, in an aside to Hannah, reiterates that Amy is over him, then the two prepare to leave for...wherever. Maybe they’re going to go watch Andy and Jake’s therapy session. Hannah coldly tells Reid goodbye, while Bright looks more like he’s offering him his sympathies. Reid asks Amy what’s up, and she’s all cool, announcing that she’s going to the library. He tells her to “have a good one” and heads to his room while Amy heads for the door. After a moment, she stops and turns, and demands to know if Reid likes her. Reid replies that he does, but Amy wants to know if he likes her likes her, because she’s very confused that they went from him kissing her to him not contacting her to them going out on a “clearly lame” date. Reid says that he had a nice time, which surprises Amy, who asks why Reid cut the date short. Reid reminds Amy that he had several hours of lab homework to finish. Then he earns my respect: “Do you know what percent of med students drop out their first year? Or get kicked out? I really like you, but I have wanted to be a doctor for my entire life, and so far I haven’t figured out how to do that yet and get more than four hours of sleep a night, you know, much less have a girlfriend.” Amy casually replies that she’s “not looking for a boyfriend.” Snort. Reid thinks this is good, as he doesn’t have time for anything more than a casual relationship. Amy is okay with casual, but doesn’t exactly know what it means, since all of her previous relationships started off serious. Reid says it was the same way for him, then goes off on this tangent about how in high school, couples are automatically serious, but in college people are more into “hooking up.” At this last phrase, Amy, who’s getting something from the fridge, whirls around, startled. Hee. Reid hastily insists that he’s not suggesting they do that. Amy goes off on her own tangent, saying something that comes as no surprise whatsoever: “I guess it’s just scary, you know, the thought of being totally single.” Admitting you have a problem is the first step. Reid insists that being single can be cool, as it allows you the “head space” to think about things you didn’t have time to before. He asks Amy what she wants to get out of college. She basically wants a degree, but hasn’t yet chosen a major. She adds, however, that she knows she doesn’t want to be like Rose. Reid is intrigued. Amy explains that while she thinks her mother’s “amazing,” she doesn’t want to lead a similarly “small, safe life.” Okay, while Girlfriend!Amy drives me up a wall, I really like this little scene. It’s nice to see some awareness that she needs to figure out who she really is as a person, and it provides a nice set-up for her subsequent storyline. It’s also kind of interesting to compare this sentiment – “I don’t want to be my mom” – with Bright’s declaration a couple of episodes ago that Rose is amazing because she’s his mom. The family dynamics on this show are so brilliantly...normal. I don’t know. They’re just realistic and fascinating in ways not often depicted on television. Getting off my own tangent and returning to the show, Reid suggests that Amy can choose how big her life will be. After this inspirational, if cheesy, pronouncement, he says that he has to go study, but promises to call her later in the week. Amy gives him a small smile, but doesn’t look terribly convinced.

Ephram and Kyle are riding a chairlift. For real. It's one of those beautiful, strangely summer-like November days you see so often in the Rocky Mountains. Kyle wonders if he’s supposed to be “losing [him]self in nature and forgetting [his] troubles.” Ephram thinks it’s worth a shot, but Kyle would prefer to be napping. Ephram exclaims that “you can sleep when you're sixty” and declares “Look at this! How often do you get a chance to see something like this?” A few beats, then: “My God, I just turned into my father.” Had to happen sometime, Eph. Just glad we got to witness it. A little time clearly passes, as the scene dissolves into the two of them walking. Ephram asks how old Kyle was when he began playing the piano. Kyle laughs in the face of Ephram’s bonding attempts, until Ephram threatens that Kyle can “work with” him, or Ephram can give him the “longest day of [his] very young life.” Kyle responds that when he was six, his father bought him a Casio. “For some reason, he loved when I played that thing. Not enough to stick around, but...” He turns the question over to Ephram, who explains that his mother bought him a piano – a baby grand, which Kyle finds utterly unsurprising – when he was four. “I had the same one ‘til she died and we moved from New York.” This actually is news to Kyle, and it just occurred to me (yeah, two years after the fact) that for both of them, the piano is a way to connect to an absent parent. Kyle is genuinely affected by this information, and is even moreso when he learns that Ephram was the same age Kyle is now when Julia died. He asks if Ephram grew up in New York. “Yeah, we just moved here a few years ago.” He realizes that “it wouldn’t be ‘just,’ but...it feels like it.” I know what you mean. Sometimes it still feels like this show was just cancelled, Ostroff. Kyle admits that New York is his primary reason for wanting to go to Juilliard. “There’s millions of people there. I could go and do whatever I want. No one will care, no one will get in your business.” Ephram asks who, exactly, gets in Kyle’s business, and what kind of business he could possibly even have. Um...wait a few more episodes. Ephram indicates a large bicycle rack and heavily implies that he and Kyle are about to rent a couple of bikes and ride them down the mountain trail. Kyle strongly doubts that Ephram has ever done this before, as it’s about 2,000 feet down. Though Ephram is about to protest, the director agrees with Kyle, as we cut to a lovely panoramic shot of the very long, very steep mountain trail. Ephram: “Whoa.” Heh. Kyle adamantly states that neither he nor Ephram is going to throw himself off the side of a mountain. Well, now, hold on a minute there, Kyle. This episode is called “Free Fall,” so...actually, good call. Ephram appreciates Kyle’s concern, though Kyle’s main concern is that Ephram is his ride home. The two look towards the chairlift for their return trip down.

Abbott living room. Harold is playing chess with himself. Rose enters, and Harold cheerily asks if she talked to the museum about a docent position. Rose did not, which compels Harold to chide her for “tarrying” in her quest for employment. This, in turn, compels Rose to accuse Harold of treating her like a “project, or one of the children who needs help with her homework.” Rose asides that their children are no longer children. Harold rather densely asks if everything is all right. Rose: “You scared the hell out of me yesterday!” Hee. She’s not a fan of the drowning in middle age imagery, or the notion that a volunteer job will be her salvation. Harold gets kind of obnoxiously dismissive, saying that he knows the prospect of re-entering the workforce, and in a new arena, is “daunting” but that he’s there to help. Rose points out how ridiculous it is to think that she can just pick any item off his list and do it. “Harold, I just beat cancer, and I haven’t the slightest idea what I want to do.” Aw! She’s her daughter! This is so cute! Now I’m being Harold. Rose admits that she feels “lost. I feel like I have just scaled Mt. Everest, only to find there’s a cliff on the other side.” Hmm. The “free fall” thing is suddenly starting to seem anvilicious, after not making much sense for the first 40 minutes of the episode. Harold interjects with a “Well, yes...” which doesn’t seem all that helpful, while Rose continues that Harold has his work, but she has no job and has already raised a family, “which, frankly, was the center of my life.” She doubts that volunteering at a museum or becoming a lawyer will make up for what she’s lost. Harold, somewhat frustrated, asks what will. Rose doesn’t know, which she says is the point. “I don’t know what I want. And your constant prodding doesn’t help, it just makes things worse.” She shakes her head a little and marches up the stairs. Harold considers her comments.

Ephram and Kyle walk into the lodge at the ski place that’s currently serving as a chairlift/bike trail place, despite the fact that this episode is set in November in Colorado. Ephram has apparently just told his student at least part of his sordid S3 story, as Kyle disbelievingly asks if Ephram really bailed on his Juilliard audition for a girl. Ephram admits that it was “a little more complicated than that, but essentially, yeah.” Kyle asks if this is the same girl who’s currently “ruining your life.” Now Kyle’s turned into Amy. It’s officially an epidemic. Ephram corrects him, saying that it’s two different girls, and the second one isn’t ruining his life, but merely “affecting” it. Kyle: “This is why I’m never gonna have a girlfriend. Just adds stress.” Yeah. That’s why you’re never going to have a girlfriend. Kyle concludes that it’s hard enough to figure out your own stuff without bringing someone else into it. Ephram suggests that sometimes another person can actually help with that, though Kyle fiercely protests. Ephram does this thing he did earlier, where he goes right into a discussion of the resort’s amenities in the exact same tone that he just used to discuss Kyle’s problems. It’s kind of a weird acting or directing choice, but whatever. So Ephram observes how “sweet” the ski place is, and notes that it’s even better in winter, when there’s snow. Ooh, wait, is this the place they went in “Snow Job”? That would be cool. Kyle's suddenly distracted by the sight of a piano. Ephram casually asks if they should “hit it.” Kyle worries that there might be “some tuxedoed guy” who's supposed to play there, but Ephram leads him over anyway. Kyle sits and plays a jazz piece that I actually do not recognize, not to say that it’s not just a different movement from the one he’s usually playing. But anyway, he’s clearly enjoying himself, if rather nervously, and looks up when someone drops some cash into the tip jar. Well, it’s Ephram, but he tells Kyle to keep playing.

Impromptu Therapist’s Office. Andy’s pouring his heart out to Leslie about his “mistake” and how he eventually recognized the inappropriate kiss as such after much thought. Jake, who is walking about the room, is outraged that Andy considers his act of betrayal a simple mistake. Andy reminds Jake that he was friends with Nina before he was friends with Jake. Jake asks if he thinks that gave him the right to kiss her. Andy rather condescendingly replies that he just told Jake it was a mistake. You probably shouldn’t smile so much when you’re saying that, Andy. But he apologizes and says he would take it back if he could. Jake thinks that, given the opportunity, Andy would do exactly the same thing, all over again. Andy turns to Leslie and exclaims that he just doesn’t know how to respond to such an accusation, as he just said he wouldn’t do it again! Silly, untrusting Jake! Leslie has Jake sit down across from Andy. Andy directly addresses Jake now, all “Why are you here if you don’t want us to get along? Why? Why? You don’t trust me! Accept my apology! Now!” Jake: “You are such an ass.” Ha! We’re close enough to S3 in the timeline that I can appreciate that sentiment. Andy turns into a kindergartener, asking Leslie if she heard that and if she’s going to “yell at him or punish him” for it. “That was not constructive!” Hee. Leslie remains silent, but does appear to be developing a serious hate-on for Andy. Jake accuses Andy of trying to spin the story like he’s the “nice, reasonable one,” but says this is untrue. “You kissing Nina wasn’t a mistake, it’s just you!” Andy gapes at Jake. Jake goes on that Andy thinks he can just “reach out and take” whatever he wants, and projects more than a little of his own insecurity when he bets that Andy figures Jake would never have had a shot with Nina if she’d known about Andy’s feelings. Still insecure, he then runs through a list of Andy’s myriad professional accomplishments; when he reaches Andy’s recent return to neurosurgery, Andy eloquently declares “Screw you” and emphasizes how much work those accomplishments entailed. “I sacrificed everything – my family, my relationship with my wife.” Jake mutters “fine,” but Andy wants to know why this has even become a point of discussion, as the focus was supposed to be on the Nina issue. Jake forcefully asserts that it has nothing to do with Nina. Andy, not unreasonably, wants to know what it does have to do with, then. Jake doesn’t know. He considers for a few moments. “I was going to say it’s about you, but it isn’t. I guess it’s what you represent – what you have that I don’t.” It’s the beard, isn’t it? Andy reassures Jake that he’s doing everything right, balancing work and life in ways that Andy never could, “so that you won’t be stuck ten years from now trying to figure out why you’re alone and kissing women you shouldn’t be kissing.” Though the message is positive, Jake’s face falls through to the subfloor. He looks up again when Andy insists that “it’s all good,” but Jake clearly doesn’t think so.

Ephram and Kyle’s Day O’Fun and Nature has come to an end, as it’s now nighttime and they’ve returned to Kyle’s house. Ephram asks why, if the lodge didn’t want them to play piano, they would have a perfectly good Steinway just sitting there? Kyle: “So an old lady could hit on you.” Hee! Ephram replies that she was about 102 and “sitting way too close.” This had better be a deleted scene on the S4 DVDs that will never be released. Ephram asks how much money Kyle made; he says about $50, and Ephram notes that he’d have made $100 if they hadn’t been kicked out. Ephram makes up the difference; Kyle is a little reluctant, but accepts when Ephram tells him to add it to the “big fat check” he’s going to owe him. Kyle thanks him, and Ephram muses about the fact that he’s actually paying Kyle for his lessons. Realizing the degree to which he and his teacher have bonded, Kyle wonders: “We’re not going to hug, are we?” Ephram is quick to assure him that they’re “not the hugging type.” He does say, though, that he’ll see him on Tuesday. Kyle nods a little. Very little, but it’s there. Ephram starts to walk away, but turns back to once again look upon his protege, then resumes walking and grins.

Sam’s, again. Andy’s hanging out in one of the comfy chairs with a big mug of coffee. Nina walks over rather trepidatiously and says that Jake told her the session went well, but asks for confirmation of this from Andy, which he provides. He, in fact, proclaims it “a rousing success.” Nina is ecstatic. She notes that Jake “acted like it wasn’t a big deal,” but says that she knows it must have been hard for him to get over his issues with the Andy/Nina friendship in only one session. Andy looks deeply, deeply normal, realizing how little she knows of Jake’s real issues. He simply replies that “it was pretty rough on him, but that’s because he cares for you so deeply. Everything’s going to be fine.” Nina thanks him, but admits that she rather enjoyed having two men fight over her. Well, given that her previous romantic involvement was with Shutup Carl, can’t say as I blame her for that. Andy wistfully wonders “who wouldn’t fight over” her, which inspires Nina to get mildly inappropriate again and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Or possibly temple or forehead; tough to tell from this angle. She walks away, leaving Andy to stew in his solitude.

Abbott kitchen. Harold drops a small stack of papers on the counter. Rose: “If that’s another one of your lists, I’m going to light it on fire.” Harold replies that it’s actually an itinerary, for the African safari that she booked and unbooked, and that he has just rebooked for just the two of them. Dude. “Booked” is one weird word if you hear, type, or read it too many times. Especially if you do all three in less than a minute’s time. Rose is happily startled. Harold declares, with no prompting of any sort, that he “want[s] to meet a Masai warrior,” confessing that it’s been a lifelong ambition of his. “National Geographic left an indelible impression on me.” Rose asks what happened to figuring out her future. Harold concedes that they can’t force the process. “Let’s blow it off, as the youngsters say. Play hooky for once in our lives. Delay and deny, like everyone else we know.” Rose points out that everything will be the same when they return. Harold suggests that a change of perspective might make things easier. “Hopefully, inspiration will follow, but if not...at least we’ll have had a smashing time.” He adds that if Rose wanted to take the trip when she thought she was going to die, they ought to take it now to celebrate her living. Rose decides that Harold’s already helped her change her perspective; she’s discovered that the best part of beating cancer is “having more time with you.” They embrace happily.

Oh, man, it’s a bad idea to watch something else right in the middle of recapping, but – the Mad Men finale! Crazy show! Love. Need to refocus on the show at hand.

It helps that this next and final scene takes place in the apartment and starts off with Bright tossing pizza dough into the air. He instructs Hannah and Amy, also there, on the proper way to do this, while Amy marvels over this skill. He refers to it as “the only useful thing I ever picked up from working,” though he'd do well to remember that he also learned how to marry the ketchup, which is a skill that played its part in helping him get the girlfriend he has now, so, yeah. Hannah asks Amy how things went with Reid and if they're actually together now. Amy hesitantly replies that they are, and Hannah thinks that’s great, because it means Amy will complain less. Well, actually, Hannah just thinks it’s great because Reid is “so hot” [Hannah. Really?], a sentiment to which Bright takes great exception. Hannah assures him that she means “hot for Amy,” which she doesn’t mean in the way that it looks when written. She asks when Amy and Reid will be going out again. Amy replies that she might see him that weekend or attend the Take Back the Night March, so I think we can see where Amy's midseason storyline is officially born. She concludes that she’ll be playing it by ear. Bright asks if Amy even knows what the expression means, inspiring fits of laughter in Hannah and a good-natured protest from Amy herself, who also acknowledges the torture she's recently put them through. It’s all very jovial, so Ephram chooses that moment to enter the apartment and potentially make things weird, though he actually doesn't. Bright greets him, while Amy looks slightly alarmed. Ephram reminds them that there's such a thing as pizza delivery, but Hannah declares that Bright is teaching them “how to throw dough.” Bright: “It’s called ‘toss a pie.’ Learn the lingo, darlin’.” Amy tentatively invites Ephram to join them in pizza-making, which he does. As he exuberantly ladles on sauce, she observes that he seems to be in a good mood. He very happily responds that he “had a good day yesterday. Rode up and down a mountain on a ski-lift.” Amy notes that he’s starting to sound old. Ephram: “Yeah, I think hanging out with a 15-year-old has that effect on you. Makes you feel all wise, like you’re making a difference in somebody’s life.” Bright drops his pizza dough on the counter and triumphantly proclaims that it’s done. And then they all start throwing pizza toppings at each other. I don’t know.

Next time: Hannah’s mom Jayne Brook comes to town, Detective Daniels from The Closer is the daugher of Andy's patient Keith David, and...well, those are the only two storylines that involve special guest stars.