The Next Step

We pick up right after the reception. Edna and Ephram chat a bit, and I love how the show keeps putting unexpected characters in scenes together. Edna is disappointed that he has no tattoo to show for his travels (not the kind of “putting unexpected characters together” that I meant, Edna); Ephram mentions that he did have a goatee for awhile, since the French have a thing for body hair. And let’s all just take a moment to give thanks that this show is set in Colorado. Harold, carrying his still-chirping centerpiece, and Amy walk just ahead of the two E’s. Ephram gets up the nerve to join them and addresses Harold first, who hopes that Ephram acquired a new language or two; he says that he learned the meaning of “cornucopia” on a “really weird day,” but that was about it. Random, but intriguing. Harold leaves Ephram and Amy alone, and after they awkwardly greet each other, Amy says that she didn’t know he was coming home. Neither did he; it just happened. They awkwardly discuss the state of Rose’s health, and it’s all very awkward. Amy wonders if he’s just stopping over in Everwood or is there to stay. Ephram’s thinking of staying, unless there’s a restraining order against him; Amy smiles at this bit of humor and says she’ll see him around. Andy catches up to his son and asks if he’s ready to go, which leads us directly to:

The three Browns in the kitchen. Delia leaves to go to bed, but not before playfully shoving Ephram and saying how glad she is he’s back. Andy tells Ephram that he always wanted to backpack through Europe, and asks if it was everything Ephram thought it would be. Ephram remarks that all he really wanted was to get out of Everwood. He says that it was hard, especially since he forgot how much Americans are hated there. Andy reminds him that “You’re supposed to say you’re Canadian.” Hee! Nice in-joking, Andy. Ephram says that fear and language barriers prevented him from talking to anyone at first, but eventually he sucked it up, and met cool people and did things he would never have done on his own. “Yes, I know, I’m one step away from saying I found the meaning of life in a Tuscan villa. Shoot me now.” Andy thinks it may have been just what Ephram needed. Before retiring for the night, Ephram remembers that he has a gift for Andy: grappa, which he assures his father he didn’t try for himself. Andy sincerely thanks Ephram, and gazes at the bottle and then off into the distance, deeply moved. Nothing says family unity like 140-proof liquor.

The grand opening and ribbon-cutting ceremony of Sam’s. Jake more or less calls the people of Everwood a bunch of slack-jawed hillbillies who feast on Slim Jims and Hostess Snowballs. Mercifully, Jake has come from a far-off land to bring culture to the primitive palates of Everwood, a mission which he will accomplish through this strange new establishment that will feature odd, foreign-sounding things like "pomegranate juice" and "fancy sandwiches." Jake thanks everyone for joining he and Nina on their “beautiful journey.” He also declares that those gathered are about to walk into a “culinary orgasm.” As the scandalized townspeople gasp, Nina quickly cuts the ribbon and ushers everyone into the restaurant. Ephram and Bright are among the crowd, and Bright tells Ephram that he can’t believe he came back just to see Edna and Irv renew their vows (and thank you for calling it that, Bright). “Dude, I almost didn’t go because of a Smurfs marathon.” They grab a table as Ephram explains that he ran out of cash and had no marketable skills, so he really had no choice. Bright wishes Ephram had contacted him sooner, before he got a roommate who’s “all gay and stuff.” Ephram asks if he has a problem with gay people, and Bright says no, but that he feels like he has to vacuum all the time. Ephram could still move in, though, since there’s a crawl space, which lacks doors but probably has enough room for a bed. Ephram declines the invitation and says he’d rather find something on his own, once he discusses the financial situation with Andy. Bright asks how things are going between them; Ephram says pretty well, and that they just needed some space. Bright changes topics, asking if he learned any good pick-up lines in France; he thought he might use one on his date with Hannah that night. Ephram assumes the date will involve pizza, but Bright says that he’s actually taking her to a real restaurant, where they have reservations and people who call him “Mr.” Ephram observes that he hasn’t seen Bright plan like this, ever. Bright admits that he’s growing. Why, upon being told by Nina that Sam's will not be offering Pigs-in-a-Blanket, he even accepts a Portobello Mushroom Something and enjoys it! Behold the civilizing power of the portobello!

Cute cut to Harold at the office, enjoying some cookies sent to Andy by one “Marian Williams.” Marian is a patient of Andy's whom Harold's never met or heard of. And...that's actually about all there is to this scene.

Bright and Hannah’s date. Bright is telling a story about his imaginary childhood best friend, Simon, when the waitress comes over. Noticing Bright, she gives him her best variation on the “Hello, Newman.” He greets her as “Candace,” which she corrects to “Meredith.” She continues to glare at Bright, who asks if they have any specials; she tells him they’re out, and drops the menus on the table before storming off. Hannah seems to find this just a tad jarring and asks what "that" was all about. Bright explains that “Candace” is a “freak show;” Hannah interrupts to correct him on the name, and Bright goes on to discuss Candith's anger issues, best exemplified by her screaming at a small child for talking during a movie. Hannah asks how long they dated. Bright tells her they went out only twice, and adds that it was “short even by my standards. I’m typically three dates and out.” Hannah stares at him aghast, while Bright peruses the menu and asks if she wants to split an appetizer. Bright is a moron.

Brown family dinner. Andy asks about Ephram’s plans. Ephram is thinking of taking a few classes at ECC, though he’s not sure yet what kind of degree he wants to pursue. Andy tells him to enjoy being a student and having a decent excuse not to enter the workforce. Noticing how well the conversation is going, Ephram announces his intentions to rent an apartment, since he obviously can’t live at home. Andy is amused that Ephram assumes he’ll pay for an apartment, and Ephram asks if he can’t afford that on top of school. Andy reminds Ephram that he has no idea what he wants to do with his life, and while he’s thrilled to support his academic pursuits, he doesn’t think Ephram’s adult enough to live on his own. Poor Delia tries to break up the argument by offering Ephram a serving of some green vegetable. Ephram ignores her generosity, annoyed that backpacking around Europe for three months still doesn’t make him adult enough to own his own fridge. Well, Ephram, let’s review: you ran away to Europe in order to escape from, rather than confront, your problems, and while I actually understood your actions, they didn’t necessarily show the highest level of mature decision-making. And while you may have supported yourself there, you only did so with the money you made by selling a gift from your father. And now you want to do all these "adult" things on Andy’s dime. I really, really hate to say it, Ephram, but I’m actually on Andy’s side here. Andy argues that if Ephram wants his own place, he has to find a way to pay for it on his own. Ephram snots that that’s what he’s used to doing, anyway. Yes, we just went over this: on money that indirectly came from your father. Ephram is a moron. The Brown men stalk off in opposite directions, leaving Poor Delia all alone to pick at her green vegetables.

Amy’s in her room, getting ready for her new waitressing job at Sam's, when Hannah stomps in and demands to know what “three dates and out” means. Amy doesn’t know what Hannah is talking about, or, for that matter, what anyone is talking about before 8 AM. Hannah clarifies that she’s referring to Bright. Amy can’t believe that he told her about that, and Hannah can’t believe that Amy never told her. Amy: "Did you really need me to tell you that my brother is an idiot? I mean, were you here for last year’s Sexual Harrassment Expo?” Hee! Though I’m still not sure why references to that make me laugh. Hannah mopes that tonight is their third date, so the relationship is over. Amy is actually the voice of reason (I know!), ascribing the “three and out” rule to “last year’s Bright,” and telling Hannah that she’s far better than any of the other girls Bright has dated. Hannah wonders if it’s possible for one person to change another, and Amy warns her not to expect any Beauty and the Beast-like transformations. In an amusing moment of Feminist!Amy foreshadowing, she briefly ponders the danger that film poses to the female psyche, though she did enjoy the teapot. Getting back on-topic, Amy explains that it's inevitable for two people who spend time together to influence each other. She starts to use herself and Ephram as an example, which prompts Hannah to ask if it was weird seeing him again. Amy says it was hard and she was sad, but now she’s all well and good, and if she can change, anyone can. Hannah points out that Amy’s change involved getting over Ephram, just as Bright is already over her. She flops back on Amy’s bed as Amy just shakes her head at her overdramatic friend.

Harold sends home a patient, advising him to check the date on the chili next time. He asks Louise what other boring ailments he’ll be dealing with that morning, and Louise tells him he’s free for the next two hours. She suggests he return to his “domino project,” but Harold says it’s at a very “sensitive juncture.” Noticing the quiet, he asks if Andy’s in his office, and Louise tells him he’s out until three; Harold checks the appointment book and sees that Andy’s blocked out 10:00 - 3:00 every Monday of that month. He marches into his office to consider the possible explanations, being careful to step over his impressive domino line-up in the process. Also impressive is the fact that he can do this without once looking down. He bites into a cookie, presumably another gift to Andy, and wonders again what a person might be doing for five hours each Monday.

Ephram and Delia at Sam’s. Delia is telling Ephram all about the Mexican vacation, and puts into the minds of the viewers the image of Andy in a Speedo. Thank you for that, Delia. Some customer named Wally complains to Nina about having to wait in line to be served, rather than being waited on at a table, and also complains about the new gourmet coffee. Nina tells him waiting in line is faster, and condescendingly asks if he’s actually tried the new coffee. He has, and didn’t like it; Nina replies that that’s because he’s an idiot. Oh, the burden of bringing civilization to the ungrateful masses. Ephram and Delia grab a table. Delia asks if he’s eating dinner at home that night, but Ephram says no and swiftly changes the subject, asking her to tell him about camp – which, she says, she already told him all about in her daily e-mails – or school, from which, she reminds him, she’s currently playing hooky. Ephram assures her that she won’t miss anything important and that he needs to see her sometime, given that he won’t be having dinner at home. Delia tries again, asking him if he doesn’t miss his own bed, but he says that he spent all summer sleeping on the ground anyway. Really? What, in parks, or something? Were there no youth hostels? This is all rather sad. Does explain how he stretched out that money, though. Ephram tells Delia not to worry about him. So she decides to be a noodge instead, calling Waitress!Amy over to join them. Delia starts things off, saying that she didn’t know Amy was working there, and Amy replies that it’s her first day. And I like that those two are still interacting, though there’s not much more of it to be had in the rest of the season. Ephram tells Amy that she looks very “official” in her uniform, and says that he can’t believe her father made her get a job, since his father’s on his case about it, too. Amy informs him that it was actually her idea, so she could have a little extra cash without having to borrow it from anyone. Amy leaves, probably pondering the dopiness of her ex, and Delia asks if she and Ephram aren’t friends anymore. Ephram says she’s just busy, and tells Delia to eat her sandwich.

Hannah is studying when she gets a call on her cellphone. Noticing it’s from Bright, she, quite literally, flails for a moment before regaining her composure and answering. Bright tells her that he’s got great plans for them that night: dinner at an Indian restaurant (which, he notes, has belly-dancers, which I find hilarious as a selling point here, because it was probably the main selling point for him), followed by a concert by a band she likes, some of the members of which wear glasses (Weezer?). He’s all happy about having been able to get tickets when the band’s only in town for one night, and then Hannah crushes his dreams. She says she can’t go, as she promised to do an extra-credit project for bio [in 12th grade? Not physics?], in which she has to stitch a rat. Ha! Hannah’s a very weird liar. Bright, disappointed, starts to ask what they should do instead; Hannah says they’ll just reschedule, and that she’ll talk to him later, and bye. After ending the call, she does another dramatic flop back onto her bed; in a nice moment of parallelism, Bright, who’s been sitting on the couch in his apartment, dramatically throws his head back. And gets a big eyeful of GratuitouslyShirtless!Reid, who walks past, brushing his teeth. Bright comments that “that was weird,” by which he means the phone call and not Reid (though it’s easy to get confused initially, watching the scene). He thinks that he’s just been blown off; Reid says that’s never happened to him, and Bright says that it’s never happened to him, either, so it couldn’t be that. He starts to call Hannah again when Reid suddenly picks up one of Bright’s shirts that’s laying on the chair and throws it at him. Bright comments on Reid’s fussiness. Because he's gay and all.

Andy pops by Nina’s office at Sam’s. He tells her that the place looks great, but he misses the stools. Nina resists the urge to play the world’s smallest violin, and just says that everyone has an opinion. Andy is about to leave, noting that she looks busy, but Nina asks him to stay so she has an excuse to avoid paperwork. She adds that at least as a waitress, she didn’t get papercuts on her fingers. Andy waxes philosophic about how we all think life will be better if we take a different path, but maybe we’re just kidding ourselves. Nina asks him to drop the metaphors and just talk about what he came there to talk about, because she’s too tired to process. He tells her what we already know: he and Ephram are fighting again, he came home, things were good, blah blah blah grappacakes, now it’s all fallen apart, blah blah blah onestepforwardtwostepsbackcakes. Nina thinks that Ephram’s coming home shows that he wants to be there, and mentions that he even brought Delia in earlier. This is news to Andy, who asks when. Nina replies “noonish,” which she quickly amends to “or later, probably later” when she notices Andy’s expression. Andy takes Ephram’s effrontery at pulling Delia out of school as an indication that he does want to fight with Andy, because of course everything that seemingly involves Delia is really about him, as we learned during the bedroom painting party of last season’s “Fallout.” Andy leaves, ready to do battle, but remembers to tell Nina that it was good to catch up with her. After Andy leaves, Nina mutters “damn,” knowing she’s really let Ephram in for it now.

Aw. Delia is offering to prepare a meal for Ephram. She says she can make cereal or olives, hee. Ephram gets up to leave when he hears the door slam. Andy enters the kitchen and demands to know why Ephram took Delia out of school. Ephram thinks Delia told, but Andy implicates Nina. Ephram sarcastically says that Andy’s always wanted them to spend more quality time together, which earns a “smartass” from Andy, and then continues that he’s not welcome at home anymore, so he had to find some other way to see Delia. Andy says that he’s welcome, reminding Ephram that he had offered to let him live at home, but Ephram was the one who walked out. Ephram blames Andy for creating “all of it” and not allowing him to move on. Andy says that now they’re back to Madison, and Delia asks what about Madison? Oops. Ephram wonders why Andy can’t admit that he owes this to him, and that if it weren’t for Andy he’d be at Juilliard now. Andy replies that he should be at Juilliard now. He says that Ephram came waltzing back in with his “European introspection,” but that he’s still “the same spoiled kid;” if he weren’t, he wouldn’t be doing things for the sole purpose of upsetting Andy, such as taking Delia out of school. Ephram: “Just so you know, not everything’s about you.” Thanks, Ephram! I don’t think Andy could hear me yelling the same thing at the TV set, so, much appreciated. Delia adds that she wanted to get out of school, so Andy tells her she’s grounded, and when she questions this, he asks if she wants to fight, too. Ephram wants to know if Andy’s solution to everything now is to “threaten us until we feel like a family.” It hasn’t been in the past? Ephram says that at least he wanted to change, and came back and gave things a try, which is more than Andy can say.

A new day dawns in the Bachelor Pad of General, but Not at All Surprising, Repulsiveness. Bright walks into the kitchen and takes a container of milk out of the refrigerator. He slams the door shut, and loudly tells someone – Ephram, on the couch – to get up. Ephram thanks Bright for letting him crash there, and promises that he won’t make it a regular thing, as the couch had a loose spring that’s “already taken six years off [his] life.” While Ephram’s talking, Bright is filling a large glass measuring cup with cereal and sniffing the milk to test its degree of spoilage. He tells Ephram that he should just live there, and Ephram asks if he’s talking about the closet again. Bright notes, while wiping a spoon on his shirt, that technically, it’s a loft, and that if Ephram doesn’t live there, it will just be turned into a study or something. (!!!) Bright says, around a mouthful of cereal, that they can fit a bed in there, and what else does he really need? He confirms that Ephram’s piano is gone and says good, then quickly apologizes. Ephram tells him that he makes a persuasive argument and says he will move in. I’m pretty sure that the thing that really sold him was the promise of catching this little breakfast performance each and every morning. Bright happily says they’re roommates, and also shows us how happy his partially-chewed cereal is. Ephram asks if he wants to catch a movie later, but Bright says he’s not sure; he was supposed to go out with Hannah, but she’s being weird, not returning his calls and then cancelling on him with a lame excuse. Just try that cereal thing on her, Bright, and she’ll be in your thrall forever. Ephram thinks it sounds like something Bright would do, which is what scares him: “Do you think she’s trying to phase me out?” Ephram tells him not to worry and asks what she said when he talked to her about it. Bright lamely asks if he can ask her about it, and Ephram says he’s supposed to; it’s called communication and it’s what relationships are based on. Bright is impressed by this revelation and tells Ephram that living with him [Ephram] will make him [Bright] ten times smarter. The only problem with this whole arrangement is the pronoun ambiguity it generates, because, honestly. I can only thank my lucky stars that Reid's at school or something.

Delia walks into the Brown kitchen where Andy is preparing breakfast, and, seeing him, says she’ll come back later. (Is this a weekend, or does she get up for school, like, two hours early?) He tells her not to do that, because the food will get cold and that would be tragic. Delia thought Andy was mad at her, but he says that he’s not, and that she’s not grounded, either. He apologizes for drawing her into his feud with Ephram, but she says that she’s already a part of it; she’s a sister and a daughter, she Chinatowns, and has a lot of responsibilities. She says that she feels sad for Ephram, because he doesn’t have a lot of friends, but thinks it’s cool that, for the first time, he actually wants to hang out with her. When he picked her up at school, “two of the really popular girls even thought he was hot. Isn’t that weird?” Andy: “.....uh.....” Hee! She says that “it’s not like it sucks hanging out with you, either,” to which he responds with a slightly dubious thanks. Delia suggests that if Ephram’s not coming over for dinner, she could have breakfast with him sometimes, or something. Andy says that she shouldn’t have to do this. Delia shrugs and says she doesn’t mind, but Andy says he does.

At Sam’s, Thurman takes a bottle from a beverage case and asks what “pomegranate juice” is. Nina tells him that it’s full of antioxidants; in his simple, uncultured way, he takes this to mean that it’s “medicinal,” and though Nina assures him it’s a drink, he asks if she can get him some apple juice instead. Nina flings two juice bottles to the floor and climbs on top of the counter, clinking a glass to get everyone’s attention. She announces that Mama Joy is dead; all that remains of the woman and her business is a publicity photo taken for the Pinecone. “So you can stop looking for the cheese grits, you can stop looking for the spinny stools and the sticky counters, and you can just give up on the shepherd’s pie, because we don’t do that kind of thing here anymore! Change is good, and if you just give it a try, you might even realize that sometimes, change is for the better.” While the masses stare at her blankly, with thoughts of uprising beginning to swirl through their minds, Thurman offers up a lone “right on,” deciding that he wants orange juice instead. Nina glances at him disdainfully. Ah, the upscale-coffee shop owner’s burden.

Harold sits in Andy’s office, legs crossed, flicking an eraser between his fingers. As Andy walks in, Harold greets him: “Hello, Dr. Brown. So pleasant of you to join us today.” Andy: “I’m sorry, Harold, am I late for my interrogation in a 1940s war movie?” Love. I still irrationally love that line, just as much as I did the first time I heard it. Harold replies that an interrogation is unnecessary, since he already knows what Andy’s been up to. Andy and I both think this should be good. Harold lists all the recent strange occurrences: hours taken off during the workday, “scrumptious” baked goods being sent to the office, Andy’s persistent good cheer even in the face of his “tempestuous” son’s return. Obviously, Andy is fathering a second family in Boulder. Andy: “Actually, they’re my third. My second one lives in Utah. [And again with the geographical in-joking! You just keep on keepin’ on with that, Andy.] Nice Mormon folk.” Harold is not amused. He knows Andy is up to something; if he doesn’t want to tell him what it is, fine. Andy confesses that he’s been performing surgeries at Colorado A&M, with a local surgeon serving as a proctor. In order to “get back into the game,” Andy needed to do five spinal and brain surgeries, under the proctor’s supervision, to prove that he was up-to-speed on the procedures. Andy first thought about getting back into surgery after performing Rose’s, but didn’t want to discuss it with Harold since he had so much to deal with then. He confirms that the aforementioned Marian Williams was one of his surgical patients.

Bright rings the doorbell at the House o’ Nina et al. Jake answers and wonders what Bright is doing there; Bright reminds him that he and Hannah are kind of involved. Jake looks confused, probably because he didn’t realize Hannah lived there, too, until, like, yesterday. He gradually remembers that she does live there, and that she is seeing Bright, and says that he guessed he thought he’d have a few more years before this moment. Now Bright is confused. “What, before I came to talk to Hannah?” Jake says that he means before “being the guy answering the door.” Bright is still confused, and just asks if Hannah’s there. Jake ushers him into the dining room, where Hannah’s studying, and informs her that Bright is there. Hannah: “Yeah, I got the visual.” Jake tells them he’ll be upstairs if anyone needs him, and wanders off, mumbling to himself about being “the guy.” Hannah remarks that Jake’s been talking to himself a lot since moving in. Bright asks what’s going on. Hannah asks if he wants a sandwich. Hannah’s very random in this episode. Bright’s not one to turn down an offer of free food, so they proceed into the kitchen. He says that he called her and asks if she got the message; she says she was going to call him back, but homework kept her busy. Bright replies that even if she did all the extra-credit work, which he assumes she did, she still wouldn’t be that busy. He asks again what’s up, and Hannah pauses in the sandwich-making process to remind him of “three dates and out.” Bright is confused, again, and she elaborates on its meaning; last night was going to be their third date. Bright is confused, again, but then catches on, saying that he can see how that might freak her out. “But, that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s how it’s gonna happen with us.” Oh, Bright. Sometimes words are not your friend. Hannah apparently agrees: “Necessarily?” Bright says that it’s not like he knows exactly what’s going to happen between them. *sigh* Hannah interjects that she doesn’t know, either. Bright continues, defending his telling her about the three dates policy as just his being honest about who he is as a person, and Hannah should be happy about that, blah blah blah honestyisthebestpolicycakes. Hannah wonders why she should be happy in the knowledge that Bright is going to dump her after three dates. “I’m not like some sacrificial virgin. I can’t just approach the altar with glee, pretending I’m giving my life to something greater.” Bright is confused, again. “Okay. I don’t know what you just said. All I heard was ‘virgin’...?” Heh. And, of course. Bright tells Hannah that if she avoids a third date because she’s afraid they’ll break up, they already are broken up, after only two dates. “You might as well be Candace.” Ha! Hannah: “Meredith!” Bright says that the point is, Hannah isn’t her. Waving a knife around, Hannah says fine, they should just do it. “Awesome!” Hee. Bright says great, date number 3, tomorrow night. Hannah: “Awesome!” Now she’s random and repetitive. I knew there was a reason I dug the girl. They angrily agree that they’re looking forward to it. Bright adds that it won’t be as great as the date he originally planned, which she says is fine. He sarcastically adds that he’s glad they communicated; is there anything else she’d like to share? Hannah thinks they’ve shared enough for now; “gotta save something, right?” She hands Bright the sandwich and he leaves, saying he’ll see her tomorrow. As he walks out, Hannah rolls her eyes at her dopey, hungry boyfriend.

Andy is seeing off a patient when Harold emerges from his office. Andy asks if he’d like to go to Sam’s for some fancy sandwiches. Apparently sandwiches are a thing with this episode. It’s like trying to spot the pineapple reference in each episode of Psych, but far more obvious and kind of weird on a show like this. Harold coldly replies that he’s not in the “lunching” mood, and returns to his office. Andy follows him, and notices the grand domino layout. He asks what’s going on with Harold, who says that he’s just trying to stay out of Andy’s way. “Since when?” Andy asks, carefully stepping over the dominoes, and Harold says since now; he doesn’t want to get too dependent on Andy, seeing as he has big fancy surgeries to perform and what-have-you. Harold asks if Andy really expects him to believe that he’d be content to distribute pills when he could be “rummaging around inside someone’s spinal cord.” Andy says yes; it’s why he moved to Everwood in the first place. Harold says that he moved there because he was in mourning and wanted a simpler life; now he’s “yearning for the big city and all the life-threatening diseases it holds.” Andy admits that he has missed surgery, but not because he’s bored; “it’s the one thing in my life that I do well.” He’s “lousy at love, a mediocre father,” and, according to Harold, “not even very funny.” Harold concedes that he has his moments. Andy says that he watched Ephram throw his gift away, and that he thought he might be doing the same thing, maybe out of fear of falling back into his jerky New York surgeon ways. He’s decided that he needs to find a balance, or else he won’t know if he’s changed or has just been hiding. Andy has a sudden epiphany and leaps up from the desk, careful to avoid the dominoes as he exits. Unfortunately, he slams the door, causing...a white tube thing [yes, I am an idiot who can’t identify random objects] to roll off the desk and strike one of the dominoes. It’s all very spectacular. Harold angrily mourns the ruination of “23 hours of artistry.”

Ephram is in his room at Casa Brown, going through his CD collection, when Andy appears in the doorway. Ephram tells him he’s moving in with Bright, and Andy replies that that makes sense. Which is kind of a weird reply to an announcement, but at least it doesn’t involve shouting, so whatever. Andy says he understands; he thinks Ephram wants to see if he can make things better, to apply anything he learned “out there” to make things better “here.” Okay. I know Ephram had this whole life-changing experience sleeping on the ground and attempting to communicate in other languages and being spat upon by the locals, or whatever, but with all this talk about “out there” and learning big lessons, I feel like he just came off of a two-year stint in the Peace Corps. He was in freaking France. Andy says that they’ll just see what happens to them after the move. Ephram asks if he’s seriously okay with that, and Andy says the only way they can figure this out is if something shifts. And if this conversation is not making a lot of sense, well, it flows marginally better on-screen. Ephram asks if Andy doesn’t think his moving in with Bright will shift them further apart. Andy says, “Not if we enforce a dinner policy.” Ephram is turned off by “enforce” and “policy.” Andy explains that he can’t trap Ephram at home, but he also can’t give him money just because he thinks he’s owed it. So Andy, apparently having attempted to fill the void left by Ephram’s absence with Gilmore Girls reruns, makes him an offer: $50 for every dinner at home. Ephram thinks it sounds vaguely illegal. Andy tells him to think of it as both of them getting what they need, and Delia getting what she needs without having to know the whole story. Ephram jokes that they'll need a book to keep track of the things they're not telling her. Andy writes his first check and tells him he’ll see him tonight. Ephram thanks him, not for the money, but for talking to him; his plan was basically to avoid dealing with anything that had happened. Andy thinks that in ignoring something, “pretty soon all we can remember is what it was we were trying to forget.” He again tells Ephram that he’ll see him later.

Bright and Hannah at Everwood’s eternal carnival. Is it still a carnival if it never, ever moves on? That might actually be creepier than an ordinary old carnival. Bright apologizes for hitting Hannah with a mallet, but says that Whack-a-Mole is crazy. They walk along, perfectly miserable, as Hannah tells him that it’s been really nice dating him. He protests, but she says she’s just saving him the trouble of breaking up with her. Bright denies that he’s going to break up with her, and Hannah says maybe not now, but by the end of the night. Bright: “Hannah! Please stop guessing what I’m going to do before I do it. It makes it hard to actually...do stuff.” He adds that that doesn’t mean he is going to break up with her, because he’s not. Hannah wonders why not, since they’re having a horrible time. Bright does agree with that. He says that he feels like the whole thing is his fault, but he’s not sure why, since all he did was tell the truth. Hannah insists that he hasn’t earned that yet, in this relationship. Bright is confused, again. They sit on a bench so that Hannah can unwittingly set in motion the ultimate collapse of their relationship. She starts off by saying that she loved hearing everything about him when they were friends, but it’s different now that they’re dating. She tells Bright that he needs to develop a censor; Bright thinks it’s a little late for that. “How are you supposed to un-know the stuff you know?” Hannah says she can’t, but there’s new stuff that Bright just shouldn’t tell her. Oh, Hannah. Bright thinks this means that Hannah wants him to play games with her. She says that’s not what she means, and refers back to the early days of their friendship. “We didn’t jump in and say all the really intense stuff right away,” such as about her father, because they were building something new and didn’t know if they could trust each other. Their dating relationship is new and different from the one they had before, so they need to start from the beginning. She doesn’t think they can say the really honest stuff yet because they haven’t gotten to that point yet; they need to earn it. Hannah! I could write a dissertation here on why this is just a bad idea all around, but I’ll refrain for space purposes. Suffice it to say, she’s proposing that they throw away the thing that makes them them. Poor Bright doesn’t know what he is or isn’t supposed to say. “Like, right now, there’s something pretty big in there, but I’m not sure if I should tell you, because it has to do with the whole ‘three dates and out’ thing.” Hannah doesn’t think anything could make the night worse than it already is, so he may as well go ahead. Bright: “Okay, here goes. I never wanted a fourth date before. Until now. I do. I want more. I want eighty more.” He leans in for a kiss, and they commence their second, completely warranted PDA in as many episodes.

Amy’s closing up Sam’s when Ephram comes in. She tells him they’re closing, but he ignores this. He says he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be doing, and asks if he should have e-mailed her while he was gone. So apparently he divided his time between “the ground” and “le café d'Internet.” He thought that she wanted space, but now he’s not sure that’s the right thing. He wonders if he should apologize, and Amy says that he didn’t do anything wrong. Ephram knows that something’s off, and “history shows that when something’s off, it’s usually my fault.” Well, not really in Season 2, unless you were responsible for Colin’s death or plying Eyebrows with the drugs and such. Ephram asks what he can do, and Amy says there’s nothing; she knows she should have said something sooner but hoped that there was nothing left to say. It took her a long time to get to this point, she admits; she spent the summer months basically going through a revised version of the grieving process. Oh, and also, in August she wrote him letters that she never sent. Just to keep this in mind for a few episodes down the line. Ephram asks if this means she’s over him now. Amy says no; she’s over “it. I can’t keep crying over you, Ephram.” Ephram doesn’t want her to, and then...asks if she met someone else. Interesting topical swerve there, Eph. Amy sincerely denies this, which is actually a pretty honest answer given that everyone still thinks Reid’s all gay and stuff. Amy says that she just doesn’t want Ephram to worry about the whole thing. Ephram asks why they can’t just go back to being friends. Amy, quite rightly, says that they were never friends, not really. “I mean, do you remember a time when there wasn’t something hanging over us? Something I wanted to say, but didn’t, something you wanted to say, but couldn’t. I can’t do it anymore.” Ephram asks what now; do they just not speak? Amy says that they’ll see each other around, just as they’re doing now. Amy remarks that he just had to come back, didn’t he. Ephram says that he never meant to mess things up so much, and Amy says she knows. She adds that they can still talk; they just can’t go back.

Musical montage time, set to Deb Talan’s “Forgiven.” Andy’s putting away food after dinner when he opens the refrigerator and sees Ephram’s check sitting on the shelf. Nina, still in her office, hangs up a framed copy of the original Mama Joy article from the Pinecone. Bright plucks a fake flower from a big bunch of...well, fake flowers, and offers it to Hannah in the way a cheesy romantic lead would do; she laughs at his goofiness and at the fact that he may have just committed theft and/or vandalism. It’s all very cute. Ephram sits in his car and plays creepy stalker, staring at Amy as she continues clean-up at Sam’s, except that it actually doesn’t come off as creepy at all, but kind of romantic and sad, and I say this very much as a non-shipper. He drives past the restaurant and she glances up before returning to her work.

Next time: Amy becomes a social outcast at college, Bright makes a big drunken fool of himself, and more fun with Andy, Jake, and Nina!