Free Fall

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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