Announcement

Just thought I should let everyone know that the recap for "Free Fall" will not be posted for probably at least another week. Blame the convergence of having to write a major research paper for my "Byron, Keats, and the Shelleys" class, working on lesson plans and catching up on grading for two classes I teach, and writing a pilot script that will more than likely never come to fruition.

In any case, I do hope to get it finished and posted by sometime mid-next week, but don't be surprised if it's not up until Friday.

Connect Four

Sam’s, where Bright is studying (!). Amy comes by and dumps a boxed sandwich in his lap, announcing that there are no extra pickles, because he lied to her about Reid. Bright asks if she’s “still on that,” then corrects her, saying that he wasn’t lying, but was simply wrong. “But that happens all the time, so why are you bugging this time?” Amy overdramatizes that in this case, his error ruined her whole life. “If I had known Reid was straight, I would have put a whole different face forward. Like, one that had makeup on.” Bright blames the misunderstanding on Reid himself, saying that if he wants women [and Bright] to know that he’s straight, “he’s gotta stop dropping words like ‘partner’ and being all cut. I mean, seriously, have you ever seen a hetero guy that works out that often?” Amy says, for the benefit of the audience, that Doug was his EMT partner, and accuses Bright of being jealous of Reid’s body. And speak of the devil, Reid walks into the coffee shop. Amy has her back turned to the entrance and continues her discourse, while Bright quietly suggests that she stop; finally, he adds that Reid is right behind her. Amy whirls around while Bright greets his roommate. Reid hands over a rent check and says that he took out $60 for Bright’s share of the groceries. (They’ve purchased groceries?) Bright protests that Ephram had said it was only $20. Reid explains that it was, for Ephram. “The only thing that kid ever eats is pasta.” Ha! The image of that slays me, for some inexplicable reason. It’s just so random. Reid suddenly asks Amy if she has any plans for the weekend, which Bright takes as his cue to get out of Dodge. Amy asks if he means for Halloween, and says she doesn’t think she’s doing anything. Reid explains that he and several med school friends are volunteering at a haunted house for charity, and he figured that Amy might like to go. Amy is too stunned to provide an immediate answer, so Reid hastily adds that it’s okay if she’s not into it. Amy: “No, no, I’m totally into it! The - the kids, the - I mean, the, or scaring them, or whatever.” He’s really not that cute, Amy. Reid declares that Amy is officially on the “Scream Team,” which he is quick to assure her is what they actually call it, and is not something that he just devised. He says he’ll email her with all the info, and leaves, reminding her “Saturday night – don’t forget!” Amy sighs happily and gets all Marcia Brady-like.

Andy and Harold walk along the sidewalk of Everwood. Andy natters on about lunch options; noticing that Harold is too absorbed in studying a piece of paper to listen to him, Andy snatches it away and begins reading aloud. “Batteries, socks, [some word I still can't make out].” Harold obviouses that it’s a shopping list, and Andy reads on. “Toilet tissue, insect repellant – I love the fact that you call it ‘toilet tissue,’ by the way. It’s very dainty.” Harold explains that he’s going camping over the weekend, and further adds that after one unfortunate encounter with poison ivy, he’s learned never to forget the [product placement alert!] Charmin. Andy asks what the camping occasion is, and Harold says that it’s a tradition. “Every year the Abbott men cast off the bonds of our workaday lives and escape to the outdoors to rediscover our inner woodsmen.” You know, as a viewer, I don’t actually mind never having heard of or seen this tradition before – it probably just occurred between episodes – but he’s really never mentioned it to Andy prior to this occasion? Andy thinks it sounds like fun, and wishes he and Ephram had some kind of tradition. Harold thinks they must have something they enjoy doing together. Andy delivers the joke for me: “Yelling, maybe. Or door-slamming. We’re pretty good at those.” Harold invites the Browns along on the trip, prefacing his invitation with an admission that he’ll regret it later. Andy declines, explaining that he and Ephram are “city boys. About the only thing we do agree on is nature sucks.”

The apartment. Ephram is looking over some sheet music and mock-playing it on the counter. Bright comes in and asks what’s up; Ephram explains that he’s getting ready for a lesson. Bright notices a package on the table and, while opening it, tells Ephram how impressed he is by how seriously Ephram is taking his new job. He also, naturally, asks if any of his students are “hotties.” Ephram replies that he actually has “seven wingnuts playing ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’,” and one talented student in Kyle, on whom Ephram is spending most of his time, “which is ironic, since he’s the only one who’s not paying.” Bright finally gets the box open, and starts to remove camping supplies. He gripes about the fact that just because he “never made Eagle Scout,” Harold thinks he doesn’t know what to pack for the trip. He expositorily complains that “it’s the big father-son camp-out this weekend, which means I’m stuck in the woods for two days, sleeping on rocks and crappy tents with no cable.” Ephram mentions that he’s already heard about it, as Andy apparently accepted Harold’s invitation at some point during the opening credits, and called Ephram to invite him. Bright is thrilled, but Ephram says he’s not going. Bright wants to know why. Ephram: “I don’t know. Habit?” Bright chats up Savage Gull, with its splendid trails and exciting rock climbing and beautiful lake. Not that he uses all those adjectives, but they wouldn’t hurt. Ephram is not buying it, given Bright’s previously expressed sentiments. “That’s before I knew you were invited!” he says elatedly, providing fodder for Ephram/Bright shippers. Bright further explains that it’s not that he doesn’t want to go; it’s that the whole routine is getting old. He shows Ephram the itinerary Harold sent. Ephram: “It’s actually laminated.” And for the first time in his life, Ephram is thinking that he is thrilled to have Andy as his father. Bright says that the itinerary hasn’t changed since he was ten, and again tries to persuade Ephram to join them. He brings up the status of Ephram and Andy’s relationship. Ephram says that they’re doing better, “kinda,” and Bright asks, expectantly, “So?” He suggests that they “take it to the next level. Bond it up!” Ephram doubts that he and Andy are ready to bond in the woods. “I was thinking about maybe going to see a movie or something.” Bright insists that it’s not so bad: just hanging out, fishing, cooking over a fire. He picks up the phone, urging Ephram to call Andy back and say yes. Ephram uses the lessons he’s scheduled with Kyle as an excuse not to go. Bright “whatever”s and huffs that he guesses he won’t be whittling Ephram a letter-opener.

Jake’s office. Amy’s sister-in-law Gillian from Judging Amy is telling him all about her medical condition: she’s begun wetting her pants. After some discussion of the embarrassment its brought her, which includes a number of conversational asides showing that she and Edna are old acquaintances, Jake diagnoses her problem as “stress urinary incontinence,” which he says is common among thirty-to-forty-something women with children. He says he can perform laser surgery to correct the muscle weakness that’s causing it. While Jake is explaining how minor the procedure will be, some obnoxious-looking woman opens the door and actually says “Knock, knock,” thus confirming my suspicion that we are meant to hate her. She obnoxiously wonders how much longer she’ll have to wait. Edna reminds the woman that it’s a private office. HatefulKim sarcastically (and obnoxiously) asks if Edna is the one who does the injections. Edna: “I’ll inject you right now if you don’t get out of here.” Before Edna can actually do HatefulKim any bodily harm, Jake informs her that he is in charge of injections and apologizes for being so busy. He tells Gillian that Edna will schedule her appointment, and ushers HatefulKim to whatever special part of the building it is where he gives injections. Edna apologizes to Gillian for the disruption and adds that “those women” have been ubiquitous lately. “It’s just a good thing I’m not the one with the needle near her face.” Actually, it’s a real shame, but I’ve already developed an irrational hatred for the one we saw, so, I’m possibly biased.

Piano lesson. Kyle is playing something uptempo, but different! Yay! However, he’s playing it badly, since, as Ephram so astutely and frustratedly reminds him, it’s the adagio. Kyle declares that “no one at Juilliard wants to listen to this crap. It’s boring.” Because your performance schools and conservatories are very big with the “excitement,” I guess. Ephram pulls up a seat next to Kyle and says that he knows Kyle is frustrated with having to learn a new piece [especially after previously having only learned the one], but he just needs to focus on the hardest passage and keep working through it until he nails it. Kyle snarks that it probably happens to Ephram a lot, “passages you can’t play.” Ephram gives him a bitter ha ha, then directs him “back to the coda.” Kyle whines about having to “waste more time on this junk.” Ephram looks thoughtful. He agrees to let Kyle work on something else and cancels the lesson for that weekend. He explains that that way, Kyle can take the time to really learn the piece. Kyle: “I don’t wanna learn.” Ephram refrains from smacking him upside the head and simply tells him to find another piece, then, and learn that instead. Ephram adds that he has something else to take care of. Kyle’s interest, curiously, is peaked, and he asks if Ephram’s playing again. Ephram says that no, he’s going camping with his father. Kyle stands abruptly and reverts to the norm: “You think I give a rat’s?” Ephram rolls his eyes and asks what his problem is now. We don’t really have the time for you to be asking that question, Ephram, given that I’m just guessing it’s going to take about a third of the season to get all the answers. Kyle denies having a problem. “Have fun with your daddy. Maybe I’ll see you next week if you’re done bonding.” Ooh, snap!

Apartment of Impending Disappointment for Bright. Hannah, wearing a sleeping bag, is hopping up and down and squealing at Bright to let her out of it. Bright says that she looks like an Eskimo, and they do that Eskimo kissing thing, and I am sorry, I’m a fan of these two but still this scene is making me want to vomit. Hannah announces that her glasses are fogging up, and starts to extricate herself from the sleeping bag, but falls backwards onto the couch halfway through the process. Bright declares that now she looks like a mermaid, he loves mermaids, they settle in for the making out. Bright maneuvers his hands around the waistal area, which apparently tickles, so he stops, and oh my gosh just do the angst already, before my teeth rot completely. I don’t do so well with this degree of romantic cutesiness. To return to what’s happening on-screen, Bright realizes that he’s not going to see Hannah for three days [but he told Ephram the trip is only two days! My brain hurts!]. They commence the actual kissing, which gets very intense indeed, and I’m wondering what it was like for Tom Amandes to direct his on-screen son and, well, whatever Hannah is to Harold, here? Hannah observes that she and Bright have “never done this horizontally before.” This doesn’t mean much to Bright, and they resume, but Hannah finally gets a little uncomfortable – or maybe too comfortable, actually – and tells him to “wait.” Bright apologizes and Hannah says it’s okay, though her expression rather belies this. Bright looks at her concernedly and asks “What?” Hannah says that it’s nothing, and continues to look kind of ill. Bright asks again, and eventually Hannah comes out with it. “You know I don’t believe in premarital sex, right?” Okay. Glad as I am that Hannah finally managed to tell Bright something she knew he wouldn’t want to hear...why would he have already known that? Did she think Amy was going to take care of this whole uncomfortable conversation for them? Anyhoo, Bright, of course, did not know this, but mutters that “of course” he did. Hannah says that she just wanted to double-check. Bright replies that as she’s “religious,” he assumed she “had those beliefs.” Though her full reason for abstaining, as she explained it to Amy in “The Reflex,” is actually more complex and interesting. Gee, maybe she could have explained it to Bright in one of those discussions they never end up having about the subject. Bright, half-teasingly, half-dead-seriously, asks if she’s “full-on serious about practicing those beliefs in real life,” which earns him a “Bright!” and a little retaliatory tickling. He says that he was just kidding, and that of course she’s serious and of course he knew. Hannah says she figured he did. They kiss a bit more, and then Bright asks what she means by “sex.” Hannah, who’s never had any practical reason to give it much thought before, says she guesses anything that has the word “sex” in it. Bright says okay, then asks a now-legendary question: “What about the word ‘job’?” Yeah. I know this line was hugely popular and well-loved by many, but I kind of see Hannah’s point here when she slaps his arm aside and gets off the couch. Granted, they need to be able to discuss this, but...dude, read the room a little before you make a joke/ask a question like that. Bright says he just wants to make sure there’s no confusion when they’re “navigating around.” Hannah assures him that they “can still make out all the time,” and they agree that they strongly enjoy that part. Just before things have the chance to get rather involved again, Hannah announces that they should get back to packing. As she stands several feet behind him and starts rambling about his parka, Bright, in the foreground, begins rolling up the sleeping bag. He wears an expression of grim resignation to his sexless immediate future.

Brown Cucina. Andy is packing while Delia sits by and is probably glad that she lacks a Y chromosome. She asks why, if Ephram hates camping, he’s willing to go. Andy doesn’t much care about his motives. “The fact that he’s willing to spend time with me is huge.” On that note, Andy picks up two board games and asks if he should bring Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit. Delia dubiously asks if that’s how he intends to win back Ephram. Andy thinks she makes a good point, and picks up a deck of cards instead. “We could play poker by the campfire!” He registers the sad level of excitement he just expressed. “Or is that just too desperate?” Delia suggests that Andy just leave Ephram alone, because that will make Andy look cool and Ephram want to hang out with him. Andy thinks this isn’t such a bad idea. Delia: “Don’t be shocked. I know stuff.” Andy decides that he won’t talk to Ephram or pressure him into doing anything. “And if I do have to engage with him, I’ll just get in quick, and get out quicker!” Andy returns to the Table o’ Camping Stuff, while Delia sagely observes that “this family needs so much help.” Andy frowns and turns to look at her, and, sorry Andy, but duh.

Edna and Irv’s kitchen. Edna, making breakfast, complains about work, mainly about how she’s so backed up with files and reimbursements. Irv, seated at the table, is concentrating on something else and just responds with a non-committal “mm-hmm.” She continues that Jake just keeps adding more and more to their workload and now has them staying open later and on Saturdays. She surmises that he hasn’t spent even five minutes with a patient in the past month. Irv I-told-you-sos that he tried to whisk her off to the Greek Isles, but she wanted to continue nursing. Edna gripes that her job no longer involves nursing, or even medicine. “You ought to see the hussies waltzing in and out of there like it’s some kind of day spa up at Aspen. I mean, I tied tourniquets in ‘Nam, for God’s sake. I helped deliver half the kids in Peak County. Now it’s all skin scrubs and face peels and God knows what else. I got zero interest, let me tell you.” Irv sympathizes, then reveals how little attention he was actually paying by asking which of his authorial glamour shots she prefers. Noting his remarkably youthful appearance in each picture, Edna accuses him of being “one of them.” Irv asks what she’s talking about, and Edna replies that the pictures don’t represent him. “You’ve never looked this good!” Proving her initial point, Irv admits that the photos were touched up “a little,” but that that’s why he likes them. Edna literally throws in the (dish)towel and rhetorically asks what’s wrong with the world. “When did everybody become so obsessed with their appearance?” Welcome to the world of human existence, Edna! Irv protests that he’s not obsessed, but merely wants to look good, especially since people do judge books by their covers and he has the market research to back that up. Edna doesn’t “give a flying flip” and declares that “the man upstairs made us the way we are, and it’s fool’s work to try and change it.” Irv thinks progress is a good thing, “whether it’s medicine or Photoshop.” Angrily setting down their breakfast plates – his at the table and hers at the counter, heh – Edna declares that Irv’s a lot of things, but not vain. “You ought to be ashamed.” Irv takes this to mean that she doesn’t like either photo.

Camping time! Harold takes charge, declaring that they need to put away the groceries [...where?] so no “scavengers” will catch the scent of their food. Bright doubts that there are any bears nearby, as he and Ephram “just passed a guy watching satellite in his skivvies.” Harold moves on, mentioning with some annoyance that they’re a bit behind schedule due to Andy’s non-existent tent-pitching skillz. He begins to say that they should be able to get back on track, but his train of thought is derailed when he notices Ephram heading for the Abbott tent. Harold imperiously directs him to Andy’s pathetic tent, but Andy says that he's okay with Ephram and Bright sharing a tent if Ephram’s okay with it. Ephram responds with a casual “yeah, I don’t care, whatever,” but even I, not generally a HoYay!er, can sense his veiled excitement. Harold gets all cranky and reminds Andy of the trip’s father-son bonding purpose, but Andy assures him that he’ll be a great tentmate. “We can tell ghost stories. I do a great bit with a flashlight!” Harold refuses to waste flashlight batteries on a “bit,” then protests Andy’s having brought along a pillow, as “it’s not the Four Seasons!” Will hi-jinks ensue? I think they just might!

Hannah and Amy in some costume store we never knew existed. Hannah wraps a boa around her neck and happily says how “lucky” she feels. Amy replies that Bright is the lucky one, but Hannah waxes rhapsodic about how gentlemanly he was about the no-sex news, despite how disappointed she knew he must have been. Amy, not seeming to care all that much, mutters that it’s not a big deal. Hannah disagrees. “Can you imagine if I had made a fuss about not having fun at that stupid kegger when he’s, like, sacrificing this huge thing for me? I mean, Bright was like a *hilariously looks around and drops voice to a stage whisper* sex addict before!” Amy suggests that the word she’s looking for is “perv.” Hannah, scandalized, chastises her, but Amy insists she’s just being truthful. She continues, though, that “even Bright’s not stupid enough” to end the relationship over sex. As she tries on a supremely unflattering wig, she platitudes that it wouldn’t be a real relationship if someone wasn’t sacrificing something. Then she makes it all about her and sighs that she misses all the “sacrifice, compromise, effort.” Hannah chirps that maybe Reid will be her new boyfriend, and they can all double date! Amy thinks she needs to pick out a costume before anything further can develop. She holds up two options: “scary witch” and “naughty Pilgrim.” Hannah asks if it’s a date or a group thing. Amy acknowledges that it’s a group setting, but that Reid asked her in a “date-like way.” She says that in any event, she needs to take advantage of the situation, because he’s seen her at her sloppiest. “I mean, last time we were hanging out, I was wearing a baseball cap and sweats!” Though Hannah reassures her that she looks “cute” in sweats, Amy wants Reid to see her as “hot,” which will be difficult as he’s out of her league. “He’s a med student, I’m a freshman. He’s learning how to save people’s lives, I barely have a life.” Hannah argues that he must already like her if he asked her out for a holiday event on a Saturday night, and points out that he made the effort to find her at work to do so. What’s more, he invited her someplace where his friends will be, which clearly means he wants to show her off. Hannah concludes that it’s a date. Amy decides this means it’s time to “break out the big guns.” Naughty Pilgrim it is!

Ephram and Bright sit at the campfire. Harold and Andy lug over a telescope. Harold invites the sons for “a little pre-dinner stargazing.” Bright declines as he and Ephram are on “chef duty” and can’t leave the fire unattended. Ephram adds that it’s a two-person job. Andy, never one to take a hint, volunteers to stay behind and help, but Harold hissy-fits that he won’t stargaze alone, and leads Andy away. Ephram asks if Bright really expects him to help with the food, but Bright says no; he actually just really needed to talk to Ephram. Ephram wonders what the rush is. Bright announces that Hannah is not going to have sex with him. Ephram: “Oh. Ow.” Heh. Bright relates the events of the other day. “She drops the bomb: she’s not going to have premarital sex until she’s married.” Bwah-ha-ha! How did I forget about that line?! And Ephram’s reaction: “...That’s a...never mind.” Grammar humor rocks. Ephram asks what Hannah means by “no sex.” Bright replies that it essentially means everything but kissing, and asks if Ephram can believe it. Ephram: “It’s Hannah, so, kinda, yeah. She goes to church all the time... It’s really not that shocking, actually.” I kind of love how unsurprised Ephram is by all this. Is it that he’s more perceptive than Bright, or did Bright just never allow himself to entertain this possibility? Anyway, Bright, more annoyed than amused by Ephram’s having read Hannah better than he did, says that he knows all this. “So basically, we’re going to be like friends who kiss. I could have that if she went back to Minnesota. It would be like phone sex...without the sex.” Ephram looks deeply contemplative, as is his wont, and says, without much conviction, that it’s rough and that he’s sorry. Bright asks what Ephram would do if he were Bright. Ephram doesn’t know, so poses a question instead: “Let’s say this isn’t going to change, which it probably isn’t. Is it a dealbreaker? I mean, if this is all there is, are you okay with that?” Now it’s Bright’s turn to look contemplative and reply that he doesn’t know. You know, the first couple of times I watched this episode, I saw Ephram as focusing wholly on Bright’s concerns. But watching again, and as closely as this, that’s not really the case. Ephram is focused on Bright, because he’s his best friend and is the one who came to him for advice, but he doesn’t seem to entirely sympathize with Bright. He’s been shown to be protective of Hannah, as regards the relationship, in episodes like “Put on a Happy Face” and, much later, “Truth...”, so I almost wonder if that’s not part of what’s going on here – he doesn’t think Bright should have to make that sacrifice if he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want Hannah to get hurt. Probably in large part because she's Amy's best friend, but still.

A new day dawns at the campsite. Harold unzips the door of his and Andy’s tent. Harold, it’s worth mentioning, is clad in tomato soup red long johns. Naturally. Andy blearily asks what time it is. Harold unhelpfully replies that, according to the itinerary, it’s time to seize the day and some trout. Though Harold encourages him with an “Up and at ‘em!,” Andy decides to go back to sleep. Harold finds this “unbelievable” and asks why Andy’s even there, given that, though his professed reason was to spend time with Ephram, they’ve only spent ten minutes together. Andy rebuts that they had dinner together, too. “I told the joke about the nuns, he laughed, it was great.” Harold, unimpressed, exhorts Andy to “get up, go grab your petulant son, and start establishing some traditions!” Andy claims that they already have. “It’s called ‘not fighting for 24 hours,’ and it rocks.” Harold relents and snits that Andy can stay there, just see if he cares. “While you’re sleeping the day away, my son and I will be down at that lake, making memories to last us a lifetime. Or at least until next year, which, just so we’re clear, you are not invited to.” His efforts to make a dignified exit are somewhat hampered by his briefly catching his leg in a folding chair or rack (hard to tell when its primary function in the scene is to serve as an impediment to walking). Andy nestles more deeply into his sleeping bag and wishes Harold a “happy memory-making!” before going back to sleep.

Amy walks trepidatiously into a dry ice-induced fog. While someone on a sound effects CD cackles, a dummy suddenly drops in front of her. Oh, yeah, and she’s in the med school haunted house. Reid greets Amy and comments on how “cool” their effects are. Uh-huh. He notices the costume she’s holding and asks what it is. She replies that it’s her costume, [doofus], and though he thinks the pilgrim thing is cool, he says that they already have a costume for her. She’s going to be a scarecrow! Wow!... Maybe it’s a Naughty Scarecrow? He explains, a little superfluously, that she’ll be featured in a scary farm scene. Reid walks over to and wraps his arms around a rather skanky-looking girl dressed as a Naughty Mummy. Naughty Mummy makes a pun about Amy being a “scary-crow.” She proceeds to giggle at her own lame joke, then says that Amy must be the friend Reid had mentioned. Reid introduces Naughty Mummy as “Alice,” a classmate from his Cell Biology class. While Amy looks at him expectantly, Reid suggests that she head upstairs to the makeup and prop area to get the “good stuff” before it’s gone. Amy asks where she should meet Reid. Reid looks a little lost, so Amy amends her question to where the farm scene is. Reid realizes her misunderstanding and clarifies that he’s not in her scene; instead, he and Naughty Mummy are featured in “Shake and Bake.” NM giggles that Reid will sit in a fake electric chair and she gets to “execute” him every thirty seconds. Amy: “Ooh. How fun for you.” Heh. Amy asks if she’ll be alone, but Reid replies that there’s one other person in her scene, and that it will be fun! Amy unconvincingly says that it sounds great. Reid hands her a clipboard, and as he and Naughty Mummy walk away, he adds that they’ll meet up with Amy afterwards. Amy starts writing on whatever Reid gave her, while a 14-year-old-looking boy in glasses taps her on the shoulder. When Amy turns around, he introduces himself as “Milo,” her “dead farm boy.” Amy smiles weakly and says hi, then turns back around wearing an expression of disgust. Poor Milo Potter’s eager smile fades.

Jake’s waiting room, which is stuffed to the gills with female patients. Oh, wait, there’s a guy, too. Didn’t notice you on first viewing, dude, sorry. So, Edna’s dealing with the long line of patients, and when the next woman in line says she’s there for a microdermabrasion, Edna exasperatedly asks if anyone there has an “actual medical problem.” At this, Jake pops out of his office and demands to see Edna right away. She follows him into the office, where he asks what that was all about. She complains that it’s almost noon, and they’re already an hour behind schedule. She refers to the patients as “cackling hens” [plus a rooster, don’t forget], which earns her a quiet “stop” from Jake. When she continues that they “wouldn’t know the difference between a C-section and a tummy tuck” and gripes that she never signed up for this, Jake actually barks at her to sit down, shut up, and listen. Fearing Dimples’ wrath, she complies. Jake begins that he knows why Edna has been on her soapbox: she doesn’t know how to help on the new cosmetic procedures, and it’s “freaking [her] out.” Edna crosses her arms and, perhaps overemphatically, tells him to give her a break. Jake reiterates: “You’re feeling obsolete, and you’re taking it out on the whole entire world because you’re either too scared or too stubborn to learn something new.” Edna snidely asks why she should have to learn this “crap.” Jake reminds her that it’s kind of her job, and points out how much more efficient they could be if she would learn something as simple as a collagen injection. Edna hisses that it’s not a “factory,” and adds, for good measure, that Jake would “take a rib out of an anorexic” if it meant he’d earn more money. Jake contends that it’s a business and he won’t apologize for what he does or for doing it well. Edna basically asserts that he spends more time on cosmetic procedures than genuine medical issues, but Jake replies that it’s not his place to judge his patients, nor is it Edna’s to judge him. He calls her out on her defensiveness, then sits down and switches to a calmer tone. He tells her that she’s “missing out.” Edna asks “On what?” and Jake returns “everything.” He argues that she should be trying to learn all the new procedures she can, so they can take on more complex cases. He cites Gillian as one example, explaining that he’ll have to hire a temp nurse to assist him on her surgery, as Edna’s not even allowed in the room. This is news to Edna, who had already promised Gillian that she’d be by her side. Jake replies that she’s not qualified on the laser machine, and adds that this is why he’s been trying for months to get her to attend a laser seminar. Edna: “I thought that was just for hair removal.” Jake shakes his head sadly and says there’s much more to it than that. “There’s a greater good here: cleft palates, skin cancers.” He muses on how many people they could be helping. “But right now, I’m drowning. And you are part of the problem.” Just before leaving, he adds that he needs Edna to “step up” or “step aside.” Edna looks chagrined.

Camping! No wacky hi-jinks here, I’m afraid. A depressed-looking Bright sits on the edge of a small cliff, occasionally throwing small rocks into the vast chasm splayed before him. Ephram walks up. Bright asks if he has the “padres” with him. Ephram: “No, I can’t find them anywhere. Must be making out.” Hee! Bright observes that Andy’s really changed. Ephram asks for clarification, so Bright says that “he’s so chill now,” letting Ephram do what he wants and not treating him like a child. Ephram replies that he doesn’t let Andy treat him that way, and that if Bright wants to change things with Harold, he needs to learn to say no to him. “Trust me, he’ll respect you more because of it.” Bright gives him a dull “whatever,” and decides it doesn’t matter. “I’m not someone who deserves respect anyway.” This is not the first time, incidentally, and certainly won’t be the last, that we hear Bright saying he doesn’t deserve something or other. Ephram jokingly asks if he peed on the campfire again. Bright is serious, however, and announces that he’s breaking up with Hannah. Ephram utters a quiet “oh,” and takes a moment before sitting down next to him and asking “Really?” Bright glumly confirms. He says that he’s been running through scenarios in his head in which they continue dating and never move beyond making out. “I just can’t see that, I can’t see where it goes next.” Ephram says that it makes sense. Not that that’s much consolation to Bright, who continues that “I’m officially that jerk who breaks up with a girl because she won’t sleep with him. I’m that guy that parents warn their daughters about.” Ephram insists that he was that guy, but isn’t anymore. Except he technically is, a little. Not the “jerk” part, but...yeah, the rest of that first statement is kind of true. But Ephram goes on. “You have different expectations for a relationship. That’s fine.” Bright scoffs a little and remarks on how bad it looks. Ephram agrees that it does, but that he can’t think about that; he’s just being honest with himself about what he needs. “You’ve already had sex many...many times. It’s kind of hard to go back and erase that part of yourself. You wouldn’t ask Hannah to do the same thing, would you?” Bright appears lost in thought, so Ephram repeats the “Would you?” more emphatically. Bright explains that he didn’t catch what Ephram said, as he was too busy remembering the “many, many times.” Ephram seems to momentarily consider pushing his friend off the cliff, but thinks better of this and continues. “Look, all I’m saying is if Hannah needed something that you couldn’t give her, would you want her to stay with you, or would you want her to find somebody else who could give her what she needs?” Bright actually hears this and ponders. After a moment, he decides that he “just want[s] her to be happy.” Ephram thinks that settles it, and Bright reluctantly agrees, though he adds that he still feels like a jerk. They sit quietly for a moment before Bright hands Ephram a rock, which he hurls forward furiously.

Festivities are in full swing at the lame haunted med house. Hannah and Sam, who is dressed as Batman, walk in. Hannah is all freaked out by the various tableaux and tries to tell herself that she loves it. Sam, however, is in a snarky mood, saying “Fake!” at everything they see. Heh. Hannah: “IlovethisplaceIlovethisplaceIlovethisplace aagh!” as Amy, looking truly dorky and not at all naughty in her scarecrow costume, taps her on the shoulder. Sam recognizes her easily and says hi. Hannah isn’t sure what to make of Amy the scarecrow; Amy insists that she needs to talk to her right away, and leads Sam over to some girl dressed as a cheerleader, who’s apparently a designated kid monitor or something. Amy and Hannah return to Amy’s scene and sit behind it. Amy frantically complains about her sore feet and the itch-inducing straw. Hannah, still out of the loop, asks where Reid is. Amy explains that he’s off in some other scene “with some ridiculously hot mummy chick.” Uh-huh. Hannah is in disbelief, and Amy adds that she hasn’t even spoken to him all night. Now Hannah is indignant that he asked her on a date but is hanging out with another girl. Amy replies that it’s “not even close” to being a date. “I am such an idiot.” Hannah tries to reassure her that she’s not, but Amy asserts that she is, and misread the situation, as Reid was simply looking for volunteers. Hannah, in full-on defensive best friend mode, asks how Amy was supposed to know that. Amy Amys that she should never have taken his general niceness for romantic interest, now he knows she likes him and it’s humiliating, blah blah self-imposedmelodramacakes. Hannah calmly tells Amy to go home. Amy protests that she can’t just leave, but Hannah insists that she can; Amy can take Sam and Hannah can take Amy’s place. Amy asks “Really?” to which Hannah replies that “it’s not a real relationship unless you’re willing to make sacrifices, right?” Aw, the friendships on this show always did rock. Amy is moved, and tells Hannah that she’s her favorite person. Hannah returns the sentiment. Amy grabs Sam, while Hannah takes Amy’s ridiculous hat, which even has straw “hair” attached. She puts it on and shakes her head, muttering, “I hate this place.”

Campfire revisited! Ephram is already there, and Andy approaches, carrying a bottle of booze. Andy asks if Ephram couldn’t sleep, either. Ephram could not; as he explains, “whoever’s idea it was to serve rice and beans with Bright around ought to be shot.” Andy holds out the bottle and says that he brought something to help them pass out, or at least find things more amusing. Ephram observes that it’s the grappa. Andy notes that it seemed like a good occasion for it. Ephram asks why Andy brought him camping. Andy doesn’t have an answer, but asks why Ephram said yes to it. Ephram counters that he asked first. Andy admits that he wanted to spend time with Ephram. Ephram finds this funny, as it seemed to him like Andy had been avoiding him. Andy denies this, insisting that he only wanted to give him space. Ephram: “‘Cause you’re scared of me.” Andy says no, then: “Yes. Very much so.” While Andy takes a big swig, Ephram asks if he’s really that bad. Andy acknowledges that he is, sometimes, but not always. “But hey, here we are. We’ve got a fire, stars...a bottle of 50-proof Italian fruit wine. Tell me what’s going on in your life.” Ephram bristles at this. “Geez, Dad, get off my back, okay?” Andy is visibly taken aback. Then: “Just kidding.” Heee! It’s things like this that make me love you so hard, Ephram. Andy, for his part, gets in a good laugh (of relief, probably), while Ephram proceeds to discuss his piano lessons. He describes Kyle as a kid who “thinks he’s God’s gift. He’s good, but he’s a pain in the ass, and a complainer.” Andy snarkily replies that he can’t relate. Ephram admits that he has a lot more respect for Andy now. Andy points out that for all the times Ephram was a pain, there was usually a reason, so the same is probably true of Kyle. He says that it’s his turn now [to ask a question, that is]. Ephram wonders if he has to answer, and Andy replies that it would be nice if he did. He asks why Ephram returned to Everwood. Ephram confesses, quite plainly, that he’s still in love with Amy. Andy: “You’d better pass that grappa.” He takes another healthy swig, as Ephram says that all the twelve-hour train rides in Europe gave him time to think about things, such as how he should never have broken up with her. Andy assures him that he only did what he had to at the time. Ephram says that he told himself that, but “the truth is, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I blew it. I was pissed off at you, and I took it out on her, and now all I want to do is tell her that I’m sorry, but it’s too late for that.” The two are silent for a few seconds. Ephram adds that he is glad he came home. Andy: “Me too.” And they watch the fire.

Overhead shot of the lake at the campsite, the following morning. Harold and Bright are rowing. Also, Harold is singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning.” Naturally. Bright, finally, has enough and shouts “Dad!” This is actually the reaction Harold was hoping for, as he sarcastically observes that he thought Bright might have fallen asleep. He also asks, “Do I detect a touch of sour in your apple on this grand and glorious day?” The brilliance of so many Harold one-liners is mind-boggling. Bright, very sour indeed, sees nothing good or glorious about the day, and asks what time they’re going home. Harold says at 3:00 [everything on this show seems to happen at 3. What is that?], as always, and wonders why Bright wants to know. Bright would like to leave even earlier, as he has “something kinda important” to do. Harold can’t imagine anything being important enough to be worth missing out on their traditional breakfast at “Big Cecil’s.” We know that Bright’s not in a good way when even the promise of food doesn’t deter him from wanting to return home ASAP. Harold is growing concerned, and again asks why. Bright, for some reason, doesn’t seem to want to tell Harold that he plans to break up with Hannah over the lack of sex, so he snaps that he doesn’t want to talk about it and doesn’t want to be there anymore. “I didn’t even want to come in the first place.” Harold looks utterly wounded. Bright! You’re just bound and determined to stomp all over the hearts of all the H’s today, aren’t you? Harold quietly says that he sees. Bright tells him not to “get all offended.” Harold retorts that he’s not “all offended,” but doesn’t understand where Bright’s feelings are coming from, as Bright had always looked forward to the trip in the past. Bright: “Yeah, in the past. But now...now I’m kind of over it. I mean, we do all of the same stuff. You try to teach me things that you taught me ten years ago. I know you think I’m a slow learner, but...” Harold simply replies that he never knew Bright felt this way, then suggests that they head back to camp.

Jake’s office, meaning here the front part of the office and not his private office. Uh, anyway, Jake’s going through some files when Edna walks in and expresses her surprise at seeing someone else there. Jake apologizes for his harsh words of the other day, but Edna tells him he was right; she hadn’t been doing her part and she’s not proud of it. Jake concedes that he could have done more to keep her up-to-date, as they’re a team. Edna cuts him off to announce that she signed up for the course to get her CPSN [Certified Plastic Surgery Nurse] credential. She adds that the confirmation should have been faxed there. Jake is elated, though a little less so when he looks at the fax and notices that it costs $1200, hotel not included. Edna: “I figured four star, minimum.” Heh. Jake agrees to the deal, and says it’s worth it. Edna heads for the door, but turns back when she hears Jake produce some noise that sounds like a combination of sighing, sitting down heavily, and dropping a stack of papers. She asks if he’s okay, which he says he is, if a little overwhelmed. Edna, suddenly feeling polite, asks if he minds her saying something; he does not. She begins that he doesn’t need to take on so many patients. “What you said about not judging your patients...I disagree. A good doc is supposed to exercise discretion.” Jake just smiles a little at this. She goes on that she’s worried about him. “You’re always here, going a million miles an hour, never taking a break. If you keep it up, you’re going to stroke out from the stress.” Jake dismisses her concerns, claiming that they’ll be less busy soon enough. Edna is doubtful, and suggests that he remember why he came to Everwood in the first place. Prescription drug scandal? Edna asks when Jake last had dinner with Nina [wait, what? Now he’s bailing on dinner at home? Hypocrite.] or just relaxed at home. She reminds him that it’s Sunday and he should be playing in the park with Sam, leaving his paperwork for the next day. “Eyes on the prize, Hartman.” They exchange a smile, and she leaves for real this time. Jake...returns to his paperwork.

Close-up shot of a table covered in Sunday afternoon detritus: textbooks, a yogurt cup, a package of half-eaten mini donuts, and newspaper sections. Pan up to Amy, asleep in a chair on the porch. Rose hurries over to wake her up, saying that there’s someone there to see her – Reid, who’s standing right there! Amy doesn’t seem terribly embarrassed, but then, he’s seen her in scarecrow drag. Reid apologizes for dropping by when she’s “crashed out,” but Amy replies that she was really just doing some Contemporary Poetry homework. Reid exposits that he asked Bright where she lived [wait, what? When did the campers get home? What time is it?], because he was worried about her after the previous night’s vanishing act. He also mentions that Hannah told him she was sick. Amy: “Oh, yeah, yeah. I got, um... I think I ate too much candy corn or something like that. All that orange dye, not good for the stomach, I puke easy.” Amy suddenly looks repulsed at herself. Hee! If only she had humiliated herself like this in the first three seasons, I might’ve been able to really get on board with the character. Amy and Reid both let out little laughs, and Reid advises her to try finding him next time, since he is a doctor, or is at least trying to be. Amy passive-aggressively replies that she didn’t want to interrupt him and Naughty Mummy. Reid officially Gets It, and sits down on the table in front of Amy, explaining that Naughty Mummy had to leave early to be with her boyfriend. Amy grits her teeth and chuckles bitterly about how nice that is. Reid says she’s funny. Amy: “Not on purpose.” Reid gazes at her dreamily and adds that she’s “pretty, too.” Oh, for the love of Pete. I mean, not that I didn’t know what was going to happen here, of course, but it’s still a drag to have this great, ultra-relatable S4 Amy, who’s more awkward than usual, and then have it turn out that the guy she liked, who she initially thought was gay, and who is several years ahead of her academically, and who became Bright’s roommate partly through her own maneuverings, likes her back. Hmph. She’s no Rory, at least, but still. It’s a little annoying. So, Reid transitions into stud mode, and asks “Would you mind if I–“ as he leans in to finish the question with a kiss. After a few seconds of kissage, his phone rings; it’s from his “lab partner,” which apparently means he has to go right away. He gives her a quick peck, and, just before leaving, suggests that she avoid excessive candy corn consumption in the future. Amy watches him, full of awe and wonderment at his very Reidness, then smiles happily to herself and closes her eyes again.

Close-up on a piano. Kyle is – heavens to mergatroid, is that the jazz piece again? A little hard to tell, but it sounds like another section of it. Great work finding something new and challenging to play there, buddy. Someone knocks on the door; a second or so later a woman, whom Kyle identifies as his mother, enters and tells him they need to go. Kyle pleads for ten more minutes, but they must leave immediately, as “Uncle Clark” is making burgers and she has the hamburger buns, and there will apparently be wailing and keening and rending of clothes if the burgers have to wait. Ephram notes that Kyle’s “on fire today,” and Kyle lowers his request to five more minutes, but Kyle’sMom insists they have to leave. Kyle grumps that he has to use the bathroom first, which conveniently provides Ephram and Kyle’sMom a little time to discuss him behind his back. Ephram observes, perhaps ironically, that he’s in a good mood and must have had a decent weekend. Kyle’sMom says that his weekends are all pretty much the same: no friends, so he spends most of his time playing the piano. She asks if that’s normal. Ephram: “Well, I don’t know if that’s normal, but you just described my childhood.” KM laughs, then goes on to say that Kyle really looks forward to his lessons. Ephram can’t imagine how he’d act about something that he dreads. KM explains that Kyle’s had a tough week, since “his birthday came and went, his dad didn’t even call, not that I expected him to,” and all these hints about backstory are news to Ephram, who asks where Kyle’s father is. KM doesn’t know, but does overshare that he left her for a "diner hostess in Boulder" when Kyle was ten. Returning to the subject at hand, KM says that she knows Kyle can be a “handful,” and she feels bad about not being able to pay, so is very thankful that Ephram is giving him lessons. “When you called earlier, you really made his day.” Kyle rejoins them, mentioning that the restroom was locked so they’ll have to stop somewhere. Ephram congratulates him on having a good lesson, and asks him to work on some concerto for the next one. Kyle asks Ephram to shower before the next lesson, because he “kind of stinks.” Aw, Ephram’s very first act upon returning home was to uncancel Kyle’s lesson. Sweet, if unhygienic. KM kind of grimaces at her son’s wit, but Ephram smiles knowingly as she and Kyle depart.

Sam’s. Nina, behind the counter, asks Andy how camping went, and adds that Delia bet her $10 they’d be home a day early. Andy remarks on how glad he is to leave Delia in the care of a woman who introduced her to gambling. Nina: “Please, I’ve already introduced her to porn and vibrators. Gambling’s the least of your worries.” She asks again about the trip, and if it was everything Andy hoped it would be. He says it was, “and then some.” He suddenly overhears Amy and Hannah behind him, talking and giggling about Amy and Reid’s kiss. Amy remembers that she’s working, and as she walks away, she spots and says hi to Andy, who says hi back. I think things might just get a little Awkward! real soon.

Suddenly, it’s nighttime. Ben Folds’ “Wandering” starts up, and I have to say, this is one of my favorite uses of a song on the show. It’s hard to go wrong with Ben Folds anyway, but the marriage of lyrics and scene and overall storyline, really, is exceptional. Anyway, we start with an artsy shot of Bright’s shadow, then see Bright himself, as he walks to the front door of Casa Nina et al. He first looks in through the window, where inside Hannah is playing with Sam; part of this playing involves her putting a pair of shorts on her head, and I only mention this for future reference. Bright smiles, then remembers why he’s ostensibly there, and regains the morose expression he’s been wearing for two-thirds of the episode and rings the doorbell. Hannah opens the doors and giddily proclaims that Bright is back, and literally throws herself at him. He returns the hug, a little uneasily. She asks if he had fun, then realizes that she still has the shorts on her head and quickly flings them aside, while observing that she thought Bright would have been back hours earlier. Bright just replies that camping “was good. It was fun.” Hannah, still all squeaky with joy, says that she wants to hear “everything” [ha! Um, where to start? ‘Well, first Ephram and I had this conversation...’] and suddenly remembers that she has stories about Amy to share. Bright regards her thoughtfully, prompting Hannah to wonder if something is wrong. He waits to respond until the song reaches the line “Things you never saw in me / She’ll see” (well, I think it’s relevant) and then says simply, shaking his head a little, “Nothing.” He continues that he’s really happy to see her. She asks “Really?” and the subsequent kiss seems to be as good an answer as any. They hug again, and for about the first time in the episode, Bright appears to be at peace. Sam is not one for the romance and demands to know if they’re going to play with him. Hannah asks him to give Bright a moment to get settled. Bright: “Yeah, Sammy, give me a chance to get SETTLED!” as he picks up Sam and spins him around. Hannah closes the door, and we return to the window, through which we see the three playing together and being adorable and generally making a big old sappy girl out of me.

Next time: Andy and Jake get couples counseling, Andy has to deal with knowing too much about Amy's love life, and then more stuff happens with Ephram and Kyle.

Pieces of Me

Another week, another fair (Job Fair 2005, to be precise), another upbeat rock song. But wait! Something’s different. This scene is clever and fun. Also, not coincidentally, it features Ephram, Bright – and Delia! Cool. Delia is not as easily amused as I am, and says that she’s bored. Ephram reminds her that she wanted to spend more time with him. Bright’s on Delia’s side: “At a job fair?” Delia says that she was expecting rides, and Bright agrees. Ephram sing-songs that he could just take Delia (and possibly Bright, though that’s only implied) home, but Delia says no, she’ll just look around because she might need to find a job someday. Ephram remarks that he needs to find a job right away, because he “can’t even afford a cheeseburger.” Bright takes this to mean that they’re selling them there. Ephram ignores him and asks Delia if she’ll be all right while he looks around. Delia says yes and wishes him good luck. After he leaves, she asks Bright where he wants to go first. Bright says he doesn’t need a job; “I’ve got this sweet deal worked out with my dad where he pays for my school and my living expenses.” Delia: “Really? I have the same deal with my dad!” Hee! Bright makes an “aw, yeah” sound and they high-five, and I suddenly remember how much I loved the Bright/Delia dynamic in S1 and 2. Kind of forgot about it once his friendship with Hannah emerged, but, awesome to revisit it for at least a little while. In any case, we cut to Ephram, who is currently at the “AKI Aerospace Corporation” booth. The guy is telling Ephram all about the company: they build jets and combat systems and are involved in improving airport security. Ephram says that it sounds interesting, but doesn’t know if he would be qualified. The guy replies that they’re looking for physics or engineering majors with at least two years’ lab experience. Ephram asks what they have for people who are undeclared. Apparently, a blank stare, as that’s what he gets in response to that question. Cut to Ephram approaching a new booth. A scary, overly intense lady asks if Ephram is “interested in a career selling insurance?” Ephram: “No, thank you.” Heh. Cut to Ephram at the Army booth. Recruiter guy says there’s more opportunity for advancement than ever and they’re looking for go-getters, which is what Ephram looks like to him. Yeah, and at my high school graduation I was ambushed by a recruiter who thought I looked like a good fit for military service, and I was a 5'2", 95-pound girl in a flowery blue dress. I'm not so sure they’re picky. Ephram asks how serious they are about the head-shaving policy. Off the recruiter’s look, he replies that he might have a bumpy skull. Again, hee. Bright comes up to him and says that he just talked with a guy from the Department of Defense, who he thinks is a spy, and that they’re recruiting for the CIA! Probably Bright’s conception of the CIA involves mission after mission where you have to suspend yourself from the side of a building, and features a lot of Jennifer Garner and Rachel Nichols lookalikes. Just a hunch. Ephram’s more concerned with the fact that Delia is not with Bright. Bright looks around and realizes for himself that she’s gone. He wonders if she has a job by now, while Ephram chides him for losing her. Bright: “I’m sorry! Sometimes I forget how young she is. She’s got that Dakota Fanning thing going on – she acts forty.”

Delia, though the guys don’t know it yet, is hangin’ at a church booth. The priest there asks if she’s found anything she’s interested in; Delia replies that she’s twelve, so she’s not really interested in anything but television. That...actually has nothing to do with age, Delia. You seem pretty insightful, though; would you care to visit the message boards sometime? Father No-Name observes that she’s too young for seminary, but perhaps she’d be interested in choir. Delia replies that she’s Jewish, and Father No-Name guesses that she’s preparing for her bat mitzvah. Delia wistfully says that she’s not having one; she and Julia used to discuss it, even planning to have the party at Tavern on the Green, but “she’s gone now; things are just...different.” Father No-Name tells Delia that he’s sorry, and Delia says it’s okay, she doesn’t get the whole bat mitzvah thing anyway. Father No-Name exposits, for the benefit of Delia and any viewers who might not know, that it’s a very significant milestone marking the passage from childhood to adulthood. Delia panics that this means she’ll have to move out of the house afterwards. Hee! Father No-Name assures her it’s a spiritual passage, and adds that girls celebrate it a year earlier than boys do. Delia wonders if his “boss” knows that he knows so much about Judaism. Delia’s really on fire in this episode, isn’t she? Ephram and Bright finally locate her, with Bright saying that he knew she’d be fine and Ephram lecturing her on not wandering off. Delia apologizes, and Father No-Name introduces himself to the guys as “Father Patrick.” Ephram apologizes for Delia’s behavior and Father Patrick says it’s fine. He then starts to ask if either of them have ever considered entering the ministry, but before he can get beyond “considered,” Bright cuts him off. “Don’t waste your breath, Padre. [points to Ephram] Jewish, [points to self] lost cause.” He takes Delia’s hand and asks if she’s ready to go. Delia says goodbye to her priestly friend.

Brown kitchen. Ephram is telling Andy about the fair and mentions that a guy from the Colorado Department of Corrections told him he’d make an excellent probation officer. Andy is impressed with Ephram’s commitment to the job hunt, even if it hasn't been successful. As nothing has panned out so far, Ephram announces that he's decided to raise some money by holding a garage sale, which I guess explains why he spent the first minute of this scene holding a bird statuette. Andy offers him use of the Brown garage, and Ephram suggests that Andy donate a few items to the sale, since he himself has nothing to sell. Andy asks what Ephram was planning to sell. “Your stuff.” Heh. Andy is momentarily speechless, and Delia takes this opening to announce her desire for a bat mitzvah. Andy wonders where this suddenly came from, and Delia attributes it to her conversation with Father Patrick. Andy: “A priest? I have no idea how to respond to that.” Oh, Andy, surely at least one lame joke must come to mind. Delia adds that she’s wanted one (a bat mitzvah, that is) ever since Ephram had his bar mitzvah, and Ephram quickly denies having anything to do with Delia’s announcement. Andy says that he’ll make some calls and see what he can do about arranging a “bar” mitzvah. Delia corrects him and exasperates that he has so much to learn. Ephram, leaning on the microwave, suddenly asks Andy how much he actually uses “this.” Andy forbids him from selling the microwave, and Ephram innocently replies that he was just asking. And...credits! Best opening sequence all season. Well, of the four episodes recapped so far.

Hospital. Rose has just had her PET scan. Dr. Chao tells Rose and Harold that the results will be back in a week. Rose wonders what happens if it still shows cancerous cells; Harold doesn’t want to think about such a thing. Dr. Chao says that they can resume chemo and radiation, but it tends to be less effective if the first round was unsuccessful.

Guy Apartment. And I’m wondering if the placement of the previous scene was supposed to be the opposite of comic relief, or something, because it doesn’t fit so well with the tone of the scenes before and after it. Reid is doing push-ups, and this actually is relevant information. Ephram is typing something on his laptop and asks Bright what he thinks of the font. We see the screen at the same time Bright does, and learn that Ephram is offering his services as a piano teacher. Bright thinks the font is too “girly” since Ephram isn't teaching ballet. Ephram asks what sounds better: “Juilliard-trained or Juilliard-schooled.” Bright goes with the latter, as the former sounds “too much like a dog.” Reid, finished with his first set, remarks that he never knew Ephram went to Juilliard. Ephram explains that it was just a summer program, but Bright adds that he’d be there “permanently” if he hadn’t skipped the audition. Reid wants to know more. Ephram, kind of uncomfortable, says it’s a long story, so Bright attempts to summarize: “Let’s just say it involved a hot babysitter, a kid, a father, a son, an adoption agency–“ Ephram asks him to stop, which he does. It suddenly occurs to Bright that if Ephram is teaching piano, he’ll be around a piano again. Ephram: “You just realized this?” Bright worries that he’ll go back to being “Pianoland Ephram: ‘Lock myself in the garage, play ‘til my fingers bleed, see my friends five minutes a day because my life is all about the music’ Ephram.” Ephram assures Bright that he’s only giving lessons for the money, and Bright is glad, because “artsy Ephram is, like, a serious buzzkill.” Some might disagree. Well, probably just me, but still. Reid does a few more push-ups and then asks if Ephram and Bright want to do the next set with him. Ephram and Bright exchange a look and silently wonder where they could hide the body without incurring too much suspicion.

Renee “The Nanny's mom” Taylor and Joseph Bologna are in Andy’s office. Andy tells them that Joseph Bologna’s test results came back, revealing a mass. “Betty” is distraught, but “Max” tells her to let Andy continue. He does, explaining that Max has a dime-sized tumor that’s been causing the headaches and dizziness he’s been experiencing; Max remarks that he told Betty he wasn’t making it up, heh. Andy says that there is some good news, and my mind suddenly goes to an inappropriate Geico place. Rather than bringing up car insurance, Andy tells them that as the tumor is benign and in an accessible position, and Max is in good health, it should be easy to remove. He cautions that there are potential risks and side effects. Max assumes he’s referring to death, and, to Betty’s horrified gasp, says that it’s just a standard pre-surgery warning. Andy agrees that death is one risk, and lists some additional ones: loss of hearing and/or memory, which could be more severe immediately following the surgery. Max and Betty’s expressions darken at the mention of memory loss. Andy notices, and stops in the middle of his mini-lecture on sundown syndrome. Betty pleads with Max to let Andy finish, but Max refuses; he says they won’t be needing Andy’s services after all. He walks out, with Betty following and assuring Andy she’ll talk to her husband. Andy sits in puzzlement.

Nina is cooking dinner at home. Jake enters and merrily greets Nina and Sam, who is there and has not, from what I can tell, been recast yet. Nina stops Jake from commenting on how wonderful the food smells, saying she knows. Well. Someone certainly has a high opinion of herself. Guess that's what happens when you have two men spend at least half of their screentime in the past few episodes vying for your affections. Jake replies that actually, his pollen allergies are acting up and he can’t smell a thing. He adds that it looks good, though. Hannah, with Bright in tow, joins the kitchen crowd. Nina announces that dinner’s almost ready, prompting Bright and Hannah to exchange a look of discomfort. Jake tells Sam to move his things out of the way and help set the table, and then asks Bright if he’s staying for dinner. Bright and Hannah take another moment to shift nervously and generally act like they’re about to announce that Hannah is pregnant or something, before Hannah says that they were actually planning to go out for dinner. She apologizes and adds that she thought she already told Nina; Nina, though a wee bit put out, covers this pretty well and says that it’s okay, they’ll just have extra leftovers. Bright and Hannah turn to leave, but Jake stops them and suggests they just eat there, since Nina’s flank steak will top anything they could get at a restaurant. Quite possibly true, given what we’ve seen of the dining options in Everwood. Hannah says that Bright went to a lot of trouble to book a reservation (hopefully not at Candith’s place of work this time), but sincerely adds, as an aside, “I feel really bad, Nina.” Nina insists that it’s okay, it’s just flank steak. Bright suggests to Hannah that they just eat twice, as long as they’re done there in fifteen minutes. To Nina and Jake, he adds: “I’m a really fast eater. Actually, some people find it disgusting.” Aw. I think he read my recap for “The Next Step.” Nina laughs and tells them to go and have fun. They...continue to stand by awkwardly as Nina takes Sam to wash up. Hannah finally says goodbye to Jake, and he watches them leave, suddenly thinking to ask when they might be back. They respond by slamming the door closed. Jake points a finger gun in their general direction and says “Right.” Heh. Bet he longs for S3, when he was barely aware of Hannah’s existence.

Amy is cleaning up at Sam’s. Apparently, busing (bussing?) duties there include taking bites out of customers’ abandoned muffins. [Summer Roberts]Ew![/Summer Roberts] This is where you can really tell that she and Bright are siblings. Ephram chooses this moment to walk in: “I saw that!” Hee. Amy, just a little mortified, defends herself by explaining that it was Harold’s, “so technically it’s not as gross as it seems.” Ephram offers to accept that technicality if she lets him post one of his flyers on their bulletin board. Amy asks if he’s giving piano lessons (in that not-really-asking-but-reacting-to-new-information kind of way) and Ephram responds that he considered the WWF, but couldn’t think of a cool enough name. He asks if Amy would like a lesson; she would prefer not to enter a situation in which she pays Ephram to tell her what to do. In a more serious tone, she says that she’s glad he’s playing again. Ephram quickly corrects her, reiterating his earlier statement that it’s just a job, done only for the cash. Amy looks skeptical, and Ephram asks “What?” Amy is confused, and Ephram tells her she’s making “that face...the one where you want to tell me something but you don’t think I want to hear it.” Amy is surprised that he can tell all that from her face, but he reminds her that he knows her pretty well. She just wonders why Ephram is teaching piano if he doesn’t want to play. “Won’t that be kind of hard for you?” Ephram: “No, not really; I still know all the notes.” Ha! He says it with complete sincerity, too. He really needs to move out of that apartment. Amy clarifies that she meant emotionally hard, that it might be difficult for him to be around something he loved so much without actually being a part of it. Ephram forcefully insists that he gave it up. “That chapter of my life is over.” They stare at each other for a moment, realizing that the piano is only tangential to their conversation at this point. Amy finally replies that maybe he’s right; the piano will just be a piano, because things do change. Ephram says that he guesses they do. Amy remembers that she’s still on the clock and departs, leaving Ephram to look pensive for the two milliseconds before we cut to commercial.

The Abbott kitchen. Close-up on the uncorrected galley copy of Irv’s novel, A Mountain Town. Edna marvels over Irv having “his very own personal galley.” Way to unnecessarily exposit there, Edna. Rose is impressed, and Irv tells her to just wait until it has cover art. Amy asks if she can read the author’s blurb and Bright, who is there because I guess they had a celebratory slumber party for Irv, makes a joke about Amy not being able to read and then tells Rose that “we’re” out of orange juice. Amy reminds Bright that he doesn’t live there anymore. "I swear you just come here to steal our food." Harold walks in with the newspaper and asks if anyone’s seen it yet. Well...probably not, Harold, given that it’s morning and you’ve been wandering around for who knows how long with it in your hands. Rose asks if they “finally” published one of his letters. Harold: “No, censored again.” Hee. He holds up the paper to show a full-page ad promoting one “Patty Peyton” for mayor of Everwood. Amy helpfully informs us that Patty is Rose’s deputy. Harold is incensed that the woman whom Rose “allowed” to step in for her during her illness is repaying this generosity by backstabbing her. Edna asks Harold to “take it down a notch,” which he refuses to do. In fact, he Emerils that he’ll “take it up a notch.” Bright remarks that no one’s ever run against Rose before, and wonders why someone would do it now, when she’s been sick. “It’s because I’m sick,” Rose duhs. But it does rather fit Bright’s generally good-hearted nature to not realize that someone might take advantage of Rose’s illness, or that a lot of people might not be comfortable voting for someone in poor health. Rose goes on to say that people see her as vulnerable now, and since she doesn’t know yet if the cancer’s gone, they might not be wrong. Harold says that they’re not vulnerable; Patty is just an opportunist. Amy suggests that this could be a sign that Rose shouldn’t run again. Harold rebuts that “the only signs [he] believes in are lawn signs” and declares that they’ll “pummel” Patty Peyton.

Piano’s-eye view shot, which has to be a first. Nice work, director and camera guy. Someone is playing an uptempo jazz piece when Ephram enters the room, carrying coffee and a clipboard. Aw, he’s all teacherly already. He tells the piano player that he’s using the room for a lesson, and the piano player turns around and confirms that he is, in fact, the student. He introduces himself as, yes, Kyle. Ephram apologizes and says he was expecting an ECC student. Kyle spits out that he knows he’s young, but he lives nearby and his home piano sucks. Ephram, unfazed by Kyle’s defensiveness, asks what he’s interested in playing. Kyle asserts that they need to set some ground rules first. Ephram is not at all surprised to hear that Kyle has “ground rules” and tells him to “fire away.” Kyle snots that one, he doesn’t need Ephram to tutor him in technique. “I don’t even have to see you play to know that mine is better than yours.” Ephram’s slightly condescending smile rapidly transforms into an expression of mild loathing. Kyle continues with rule number 2, which is “I play jazz piano, so I don’t want to work on any of that boring classical crap.” Ephram smiles again, revealing barely contained amusement at his pupil’s arrogant naivete. He asks if Kyle’s done, but Kyle adds that there’s one more thing: he chose Ephram because he wants to apply to Juilliard, and intends to get in this year. Ephram laughs outright at this. Kyle wonder what’s so funny; Ephram replies that what’s funny is that Kyle only plays jazz piano yet thinks he’s going to Juilliard. “You’re living in a fantasy world." Heh. Frankly, Kyle, I would be genuinely thrilled to have the opportunity to improve my classical piano-playing abilities. And I’m not saying that to set up some comment about getting lessons from Ephram. Although... Anyway, Kyle defensively snaps that if Ephram doesn’t want to help him, he should just say it so they don’t waste any more time. Ephram insists that he would like to help, but Kyle will need to listen to him. Kyle replies that he knows it won’t be easy, but surely if Ephram could get into Juilliard, “how hard could it be to get in?” Seriously, kid, what is with the major hate-on for Ephram’s piano skills? Ephram, ignoring the snottiness, offers his first piece of advice: “You might have to learn some of that classical crap. They like that at Juilliard.” Kyle smirks and returns to his jazzing. Ephram watches him intently, probably relieved that the onus of fake piano-playing no longer falls on him.

Hannah is at her desk, presumably doing homework. And – okay, this is why I made such a point of her good taste in formalwear in the “Kiss to Build a Dream On” recap, because here she’s wearing a white sweater vest over a red button-down blouse covered in some kind of small white print. It’s not pretty. Jake appears at her door and asks if she wants anything from the store; Hannah says that she’s good. Jake decides, while he’s got her cornered, to bring up the dinner incident. He starts by using an example drawn straight from his own life: “You know how at fancy hair salons they have a 24-hour cancellation policy or else you’ll have to pay anyway?” Hannah replies that she’s never been to one, and Jake is flabbergasted by this, for some reason. He suggests she try it sometime, since “it makes you feel special.” Well, Jake’s just doing all my work for me now, isn’t he? Jake gets to his real point, which is not a bad one in and of itself: he proposes that they institute a similar policy there, as pertains to dinner. Hannah thinks this means that Jake wants her to pay for dinner. Hannah really needs to spend a little more time away from Bright. Jake explains that he’s only referring to the “24-hour notice” part of the analogy, and adds that this way, Nina won’t go out of her way making a gourmet meal for only a couple of people. Hannah assures him that Nina already said she didn’t mind. Jake replies that he’s sure she didn’t mind, “but just because Nina’s so easygoing doesn’t mean that it’s okay to take advantage of her.” RED ALERT! This conversation has just turned hostile! DANGER, JAKE HARTMAN! Hannah is appalled by Jake’s accusation, and says that he’s “hardly one to talk about taking advantage.” Jake is clearly stunned by this new side of Hannah. As is Hannah, who apologizes and tells him to forget she said anything. Jake huffily replies that he can’t forget now and is curious about what she meant. Hannah attempts to soften the blow by asking him not to take this the wrong way, then lets loose: “You and Nina aren’t even engaged, and you’re living in her house rent-free. I mean, don’t you think she wants more, and isn’t not giving her what she wants a form of advantage-taking?” We have some very interesting things going on here. 1.) Is Jake really not contributing to any of the major household expenses? Not the utilities, not the mortgage, nothing at all? Bad form, Dr. Hartman. 2.) Hannah appears to be projecting her own values a little here, which she’s really never been shown to do with regard to, say, Amy. Curious. Jake is not so interested in dissecting what Hannah just said. Rather, he’s speechless and wobbles his head a little. Hannah says that she will think about the 24-hour notice idea. Jake, not yet fearful enough of Hannah’s wrath, repeats a bit sarcastically “Think about it?,” which really sets her off. “Look! You’re not my dad. No offense, but you’re not really anything to me, so I don’t see why I should have to take your advice about stuff, do you?” And here it comes back to the situation with Hannah’s father, adding one more layer to her reaction in this scene. Jake’s only reply – not that it’s a bad one – is to walk away without another word. Hannah turns back to her homework, looking pretty genuinely angry about what just transpired.

Office of Multiple Doctors. Harold pins an “Elect Rose Abbott Everwood Mayor” button on Louise’s collar. Andy ushers a patient out of his office; while he reminds the guy that his cast comes off in two weeks, Harold reminds him to vote for Rose, by affixing a bumper sticker to said cast. Andy asks if Max and Betty have called and, upon hearing they have not, considers calling them. Harold observes that they have a big decision to make, considering the surgery’s potential side effects, and accuses Andy of pushiness. Andy stresses the fact that it’s a brain tumor, and Harold reiterates that it requires brain surgery, with all the lovely risks that could accompany it, such as memory loss. He suggests that Max and Betty might need time to weigh the pros and cons. Andy protests that he “gave them a day!” Harold gives him a look, and Andy acknowledges the pushiness. Louise remarks that she can’t imagine what it would be like to lose her memory and have to relearn everything. Harold snarks on the “days of study” that would have been wasted. That was a bit uncalled for. Louise says that she was also referring to how hard it would be to have to re-remember the people and events of her life. Andy wonders if this is Max’s concern. Harold replies that if that is his concern, Andy can’t guarantee that it won’t happen. Andy non sequiturs that he can guarantee Max will live a longer life with the surgery. Harold tries to analogize it in such a way that might lead Andy to remember that his surgical patients actually have, like, souls and emotions and stuff. He explains that he and Rose have been awaiting the results of her PET scan; while they’ll only be in limbo for a week, Andy is asking Max and Betty to live that way for the rest of their lives. “Live in the unknown. If somebody asked me to do that after this week...I don’t know that I could.” Harold departs, while Andy looks thoughtful and finally retreats to his own office.

A pair of hands not belonging to Steven R. McQueen are playing that same infernal jazz piece, again. Dude, you do need Ephram’s help, if only to diversify that repertoire a little. Ephram closely watches “Kyle”’s playing and stops him at one point, observing that his phrasing was off because he pounded the keys too hard. Kyle denies this, but Ephram advises him to “use a lighter touch; it’s a piano, not a harpsichord.” Ah, man, it is hard to find good harpsichord humor these days. Your efforts are much appreciated, Ephram. Kyle insists that it sounded good to him, but Ephram assures him that he used to do the same thing, prompting his instructor to get on his case about it. He tells Kyle to move over, sits next to him on the bench, and starts playing the passage that Kyle just screwed up. This, like everything else involving Ephram and/or the piano, annoys Kyle, who stops Ephram after about thirty seconds and insists that he doesn’t need help with his technique. “Save it for some kid you’re teaching ‘Chopsticks’ to.” As he says this last line, a haunted look appears in Ephram’s eyes. When Kyle asks him to get off the bench, Ephram angrily complies, saying that they should just “”forget it” and declaring that he doesn’t need “attitude from a kid who thinks he knows everything” and doesn’t even know why he’s doing this job. Kyle asks, in his caring way, if Ephram’s okay. “You look weird.” Ephram announces that he has to go. Kyle asks if he’s coming back and gets a flat “No” in response.

Everwood town hall meeting. Andy leads Delia in and decides that it’s exactly the right time and place to dash her dreams and inform her that she can’t have a bat mitzvah after all; it seems the nearest rabbi lives 150 miles away and doesn’t drive. Delia exclaims that Andy promised. Andy assures her that he really tried. “I think I talked to every Jewish person in Colorado. All five of them.” Andy proposes that they just have a bat mitzvah celebration instead, without the religious component. Delia wisely observes that a bat mitzvah without the ceremony is just a party. Andy: “But it would be a great party!” He adds that sometimes, there’s just nothing you can do. The Browns turn their attention to the front of the room, where stand Harold and Rose. Harold welcomes everyone and introduces Rose, who is met with a hearty round of applause. Rose starts things off by saying how nice it is to see everyone again, then gets down to business. She gives us a little backstory on her political career, mentioning that the last time she had to ask for votes was when Amy was in kindergarten. Her first act as mayor, we learn, was to steal chairs out of Harold’s waiting room and supply them to Amy’s underchaired classroom. Like a good politician, she concludes by declaring that since then, both the school system and the chairs have been much improved. Harold opens the floor up to questions. The first comes from recurring townie Martha, whose question, naturally, is “How are you feeling, Rose? Where are you with the cancer?” Harold tries to dismiss this question, but Rose says it’s okay, and responds that her surgery went well, her treatments are over, and now they’re just waiting to make sure the cancer’s gone. Some guy we’ve never seen before asks if Rose will stay on as mayor if the cancer does return. Rose is taken aback and says she never considered what would happen if it did. Harold tries to get someone to offer up a question concerning Rose’s mayoral record. Which, of course, no one does. Instead, Martha asks if there isn’t a chance of the cancer returning even if Rose goes into remission. Harold says there is. “There’s also a chance of a car speeding through a stop sign and running you over, a good chance,” and a chance that Patty Peyton’s family history of high cholesterol could get to her. Incidentally, his response to Martha is funny, but kind of weird to watch now knowing that the actress died almost a year ago. Harold insists that this is all besides the point, which is that Rose has loyally served Everwood for twelve years and has treated its people with fairness, kindness, and patience. “She has been there for all of you; now is the time to be there for her.” He leads Rose out of the meeting, and we close with a reaction shot from Andy, for some reason.

The home of Betty and Max. Someone, who turns out to be Andy, sets a teacup down on a saucer. He tells Betty what Harold suggested about the potential memory loss being of concern, and Betty agrees that it is. Andy admits that it’s a risk, but assures her that Max will very likely still remember her. Betty is surprised; Andy says that the brain stores long-term memories, but Betty replies that it's not her Max is afraid of forgetting. Max, as it turns out, is a Holocaust survivor. Growing up, their families lived only two houses apart; her family escaped, in 1942, but his wasn’t so fortunate. They reunited in America after the war, after Max had lost all of his family and friends. She concludes by mentioning that he still has nightmares. Andy wonders why Max would be willing to risk his life to hold onto something so awful. Max walks in then and says that it’s “simple.” He tells Andy to think about the most painful thing that ever happened to him. “Now, if you were able to take a magic pill that somehow would erase the memory of it, would you do it?” Andy admits that he wouldn’t, and Max says that’s because it’s part of what made him who he is today, just as living through the Holocaust shaped who Max is. Betty adds that while the memory loss is only a chance, it’s not a chance they want to take. Andy makes one more pitch for the surgery, saying that while he wouldn’t want to forget the pain, he also wouldn’t be willing to die in order to hold onto it. Thoughtful glances all around.

Jake and Nina in bed, post-cheesecake. Nina says goodnight and turns the lights out, but Jake cannot sleep, so haunted is he by the conversation with Hannah. “Are you waiting for me to propose?” Nina turns the lights back on and asks “What?” in disbelief. Jake says he was just curious if Nina was ready for them to take “the next step.” That was two episodes ago, guys. Say something about “pieces of me.” Nina thinks they just took the next step by moving in together. Jake agrees, and they decide they’re on the same page. Nina asks what prompted this, and Jake sheepishly admits it was Hannah, who, he says, “freaked me out a little.” Nina would like to know since when he and Hannah talk, and Jake says they don’t, which he sees as part of the problem. Nina says that if it concerned the dinner, then it was sweet, but unnecessary, for him to defend her. Jake insists that it wasn’t just about defending her; it was also about him having violent and traumatic flashbacks to his childhood, when his father would cane him for trying to skip dinner. It's possible that Jake says something less dramatic here. His point is that he doesn’t know when to step in and act like a father, and when to hang back as “Uncle Jake, friendly visitor who buys you cool stuff.” Nina says that he’s great with Sam, and doesn’t need to worry about Hannah, who spent the previous year taking care of herself. Jake points out that Hannah spent most of that time with the Abbotts, whereas now she and Amy are on different schedules. Also, her boyfriend then was “Tofu” (heeee!), but now it’s Bright. “Very different energy there, and when she’s not here she’s over at that apartment, where there are three guys living.” Nina adds that it’s three guys with no parental supervision. She suddenly panics that they have a teenager in the house. “A teenager with a horny boyfriend! And we let her go to a kegger!” Jake challenges the “we,” and Nina asks for confirmation that they’re in it together. Jake says they are, and that they’ll figure things out together, too. He turns over to go to sleep, while Nina begins fretting about curfews. This is so hilarious to me, because it does reveal how little they actually know the terrifying teenager living with them. Actually, of all the teens on this show, Hannah is truly the last one they’d have to worry about in this way, and she never does get herself into any actual trouble over the course of her two seasons. Which is actually one of the things I love about the character; it was just refreshing, to me, to see a young character who had fairly strait-laced ideas about what she was and wasn’t okay with and stuck to them. Maybe not a popular opinion among fans, but yeah, I dug her for it.

Harold’s office, which is apparently doing double-duty as Rose’s campaign headquarters. Edna enters, complaining that she’s already wasted three minutes of her thirty-minute lunch break walking there. Harold needs her help with the campaign; more specifically, he needs someone to help him spend the 24 hours preceding the election annoying the entire town with campaign phone calls. Edna reminds him that she actually has a job and doesn’t have the time to help. Harold demands that she make time, and lapses into Shakespeare: “Once more unto the breach, dear friends,” which rapidly segues into “Patty Peyton must be defeated!” Edna warns Harold that he’ll give himself a coronary. Harold snits that he should have known better than to expect Edna’s help. Edna, sensing that her son’s real problem is not so much election-related, gently tells him that while she’s not usually his first choice, she’s there to talk to. Harold contends that as long as they’re trailing in the polls and there are phone calls to be made, he doesn’t have time to talk. Edna replies that she’s not referring to the election, and orders him to “hang up the phone and stop avoiding the issue!” Harold forcefully says that he hasnt been avoiding it; rather, he’s been living with it every day, beating himself up for not discovering the cancer in the first place, and waking up in the middle of the night hearing Rose get sick. “If I could reach inside of her and physically remove every last cancer cell, I would, but I can’t do that! This is the only thing I can control.” While he turns back to work on something, Edna sits and makes a phone call. Harold turns back around and glances at her gratefully.

Andy’s office. Betty is there, and has apparently just proposed something involving the surgery, because Andy says he’ll call the hospital board and see what they say [sic]. He adds that he can’t guarantee “it” will be at all effective, even if the hospital okays it. Betty acknowledges that it’s unlikely, then launches into a suspiciously theme-appropriate discussion of what it means to be Jewish. This includes remembering your history, and believing. Betty says they “believe some crazy things” – Andy notes that Delia is partial to the Hanukkah story – but that you can’t always survive by being practical. “You do what you can, but you have to leave room for a miracle.” Andy smiles at this, perhaps appreciating the neat callback to his own earlier words to Delia.

Sam’s. Amy clears a table while Ephram lounges in a comfy chair, studying. Amy spots him and walks over to make small talk. She asks what class the books are for. He replies “Philosophy, Knowledge, and Reality,” and props to the writers for coming up with something that actually sounds like a real class. “It’s pretty cool, actually. By chapter 10 you figure out if God exists or not.” Amy tells him to let her know how it ends. He smiles at this bit of humor and Amy takes this as an opening to engage in a lengthier conversation. She asks how piano lessons are going. Ephram says she was right, it was a bad idea, so he quit. Amy wants to know why. Ephram is mildly annoyed that she’s not “all, ‘I told you so.’” Amy argues that she never told him not to teach, but only suggested that being around the piano again might be hard for him. He repeats that she was right, he played for a few moments and thought it was weird. Amy again asks why. Ephram explains: “Playing the piano used to take me to this place that I really liked to go, away from everything,” but playing again took him back to the previous year; revisiting those memories was “like a bad drug trip.” He doesn’t want to repeat the experience. Amy says that she understands him not wanting to relive the pain, but questions why the piano has to be wrapped up in it. She points out that he loved to play long before meeting Madison or herself. Ephram acknowledges this. Amy: “I just don’t think you should give it up just because it happened to coincide with some crappy stuff that went on last year, you know? But that’s just my opinion.” Ephram says he might just need time. Amy tells him to take it, but not to close the door on piano-playing forever, because it would be a waste of his talent. Ephram thinks it’s hard to know “when to give up and when to keep trying.” Amy suggest he just follow his instincts. While Amy resumes her duties, Ephram mulls this over.

OR. A nurse asks Andy if he’d like any particular music, but Andy replies that they won’t be using any during this surgery. Another nurse lets in Betty, who’s dressed in scrubs. Andy greets her and shows her a seat next to the operating table, on which Max lies. He tells her that she can always stop if it gets too hard, and Betty, quick with the slate gray humor, replies that she hopes that’s not Andy’s attitude. While the first nurse puts Andy’s goggles on for him, what with his being all begloved and all, Betty asks how long this kind of surgery usually takes. Andy casually answers “About eight hours, more or less,” and Betty says that she’d better start at the beginning, then. She begins reciting to Max the story of the first time they met, when he was eight and she was six, while Andy begins the procedure.

Some outdoor café we’ve never seen before. Ephram strides to a table, where Kyle is waiting. Kyle kvetches about Ephram never being on time. Ephram apologizes and asks if he wants coffee. Kyle angrily retorts that he doesn’t even like coffee ice cream. Which makes one thing he shares with Francie. Ephram apologizes again, this time for them getting off on the wrong foot, and says that he’d like to continue the lessons. “Even though you know everything there is to know, I still think there might be a few things I could teach you.” Kyle admits that he played that one jazz piece (that he apparently devoted his whole life to) the way Ephram suggested, and that it sounded “kinda good.” Ephram says that this shows that he actually knows a few things about piano. He informs Kyle that he’s not going to be his glorified page-turner, but is really going to teach him. “And you should be stoked about that, because I’m actually pretty good.” Dang, but Confident!Teacher!Ephram is hot. He continues that he can not only help Kyle get into Juilliard, but can also help him improve his ear and develop a better appreciation for music. Oh, wow, if Kyle weren’t already into jazz then it would be so cool if Ephram made him listen to Art Tatum!! Eeeee!!! Ephram/Piano fangirl 4-eva!!111!!!!!1! Uh. Ahem. So, Kyle insists that he already appreciates music, and everything’s hunky-dory between them until Kyle again Columbos that there’s one more thing: his mother can’t afford to pay for the lessons, and the check he already gave Ephram is totally worthless. He admits that he never planned to pay Ephram, but tells him he can back out if it’s a problem. Ephram simply says, “Thursday. 3:00.” before walking away, leaving Kyle in a state of befuddlement.

Abbott kitchen. Bright is there, probably because no one in the apartment felt like going to the store and Hannah threatened to break up with him if they made her do it one more time. He’s making a sandwich, while Rose talks to someone on the phone. She thanks “Bill” before hanging up. Bright asks what he said, and Rose replies that “it doesn’t look good; Patty’s ahead by 400 votes.” Neither Bright nor Rose can believe it. Bright asks if she’s okay, and she admits that she never really thought she could lose. She concludes that she doesn’t know what to do now. Bright declares that she could always run again. Rose doesn’t think it would matter; to the people of Everwood, she’s no longer “Rose Abbott: Mayor of Everwood,” but “Rose Abbott: Cancer Survivor,” and it’s a label she’ll have to get used to. “I might as well be wearing a scarlet C on my chest.” Bright indignantly says that’s crazy, and insists that she’s the same person she was before, that she can’t be reduced to her sickness. He offers Lance Armstrong as an example: he rides his bike, created a jewelry line (ha!), and is dating Sheryl Crow. Or was in 2005. Recapping 2-year-old episodes is weird. Plus, now I want to make a Matthew McConaughey joke, and it’s a year too late even for that. Anyway, Bright concludes that “cancer’s number four on this guy’s list.” Rose thinks that’s all very nice, but she’s not Lance Armstrong. Bright concurs. “You’re better. You’re my mom.” Bright! Aw. Rose is all overcome, saying it’s a label she can live with, and hugs Bright. After they separate, Bright asks if the “scarlet C thing” is “like, a book reference I didn’t get?” Bright! *sigh* Also, he did actually graduate from high school, and it’s pretty much impossible to do that without at least seeing someone carrying around a copy of The Scarlet Letter. Sometimes the “dumb Bright” gag went marginally too far. Rose shakes her head and announces that she really needs to get him a library card.

Delia’s room. Andy pops in and asks what she’s doing. She informs him that it’s social studies homework, which is “boring” and “lame.” Andy thinks it might cheer her to hear what they’ll be doing in six months. She guesses returning to Mexico, but no; Andy says she’ll be having a bat mitzvah! Delia excitedly asks if this means he found a rabbi. He did not, but assures her he will. Delia snorts derisively, and Andy says he thought she’d be happy. “I would be happy if I thought you weren’t going to change your mind again.” Andy promises he won’t. Delia asks why she should trust him, and he because-I-said-sos her. This doesn’t count for much, but Andy continues that he made a mistake; he almost robbed her of her Judaism, which should be a part of her just as much as it was a part of her mother. He wants Delia to always remember who she is and where she came from. Delia thanks him and asks why they have to wait six months. Andy explains that it’s to give her time to study. Delia doesn’t like the sound of six months of studying. Andy, producing one of his patented grins, returns that if “you want to be the Chosen People, you got to work at it.”

Harold and Rose’s bedroom. Rose sits on the bed, holding the phone and looking shaken. Harold comes in and says that based on the informal poll he just conducted, they may have grounds for a recount. He notices Rose’s look and apologizes for bringing up the election. Rose says that’s not it; Dr. Chao just called with results of the PET scan. “The cancer’s gone. Gone. All gone, Harold!” They both begin to cry in relief and embrace, ushering us out of the episode.

Next time: The Browns and Abbotts engage in some father/son camping hi-jinks, Amy embarrasses herself some more, and the Bright/Hannah romance takes another turn for the iffy.