Ghosts

A note: There's been a bit of a delay with the "Getting to Know You" recap, so I thought I may as well just go ahead with "Ghosts." I will, however, publish "Getting to Know You" ASAP.

Sam’s. We open on a table piled with copies of Irv’s freshly-published book. Edna is proffering free copies to customers. An old guy who I’m pretty sure has been in a number of other episodes, but whom I can’t readily name, helpfully tells Irv that he just spotted “another mistake” regarding Irv’s identification of some person as a judge. Irv reminds Mr. Jensen [thanks, Irv!] of the concept of “artistic license,” but thanks him for his interest. Mr. Jensen walks away, leaving Edna and Irv to shake their heads and hug. Andy appears, offering congratulations and advice, suggesting that Irv might want to charge his customers in future. Edna astutely notes “Look who’s talking!” and defends their use of “guerrilla marketing,” as offering free copies will help create buzz. Andy acknowledges this, and adds that he’s looking forward to reading it, and wonders if he might be in it, somewhere? Irv gives the whole “any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author” spiel, but admits that yep, Andy’s there.

Meanwhile, Bright and Hannah enter the coffeeshop, signifying the imminent onset of the HARDEST SCENE EVER TO RECAP. So, Hannah’s just returned home from Minnesota, and she and Bright agree that the separation felt like a year or two. Bright: “You’re never allowed to go home again. I don’t care how much your mom wants to celebrate Jesus with you.” Hannah replies that they’ll have to talk about that again at Easter. They sit on a couch and Hannah lists various things they could do that day, such as going for a bike ride or having a picnic. Then her phone rings, spelling my doom as a recapper. It’s Amy, who asks if Hannah’s sitting down. While Hannah says that she is, and asks why, Bright’s phone rings, too. Bright declares that “the boy is back in town” and asks Ephram how New York was. It was fine, but Ephram has to ask him something. Hannah asks Amy what’s wrong. Ephram poses a hypothetical to Bright, with a “Say you ran into an old girlfriend...” Amy asks if Hannah’s sure she’s sitting down. Bright assumes that Ephram ran into Madison. Hannah covers her phone and whisper-asks Bright if Ephram saw Madison. Ephram replies that it wasn’t Madison, and Bright shakes his head in response to Hannah’s question. Amy explains that she went over to Ephram’s the week before. Ephram resumes his hypothetical, with “you weren’t planning on anything happening...” Amy’s voice continues that they were only planning to study, while Ephram’s voice goes on that things heated up a bit. Amy adds that there was no one else there; Ephram stutters that “something, kinda...” and Amy finally announces that they had sex. Hannah excitedly repeats the information, causing Bright to turn to her in horror and whisper-shout “What? No way!” Ephram’s voice asks what Bright’s talking about. Amy says she’s been meaning to tell Hannah. As Bright continues to stare at Hannah and her phone, Ephram asks if Bright’s still there. Amy goes on that “it’s just all so weird!” Bright disgustedly asks Ephram if he and Amy are back together. Amy doesn’t know what it means yet. Ephram wonders who told Bright that. Hannah happily says that she can’t believe it. Bright angrily tells Ephram that he can’t believe him. Hannah declares “This is so great!” Simultaneously, Bright declares “This is so bad!” This scene loses a lot in the recapping process, I’m thinking. Hannah and Bright turn to each other again. Ephram’s voice asks if Amy’s talked to Bright. Amy’s voice continues that Ephram told her he was still in love with her. Ephram asks if Amy said they were getting back together. Amy says that she and Ephram haven’t spoken since. Hannah tells Amy to come get her. Bright tells Ephram to stay where he is. Hannah says they have to celebrate; Bright thinks it’s time for some “serious damage control.” Amy doesn’t think it’s time for celebration, while Ephram doesn’t think he needs damage control. Amy’s voice says she’ll be there in ten minutes; Ephram’s voice tells Bright to bring breakfast. Both calls, mercifully, end. Bright and Hannah sit for a moment, Bright in dismay and Hannah in near-rapture. Hannah guesses that the bike ride will have to wait, and they quickly kiss before heading off for their interventions/celebrations.

Bright, now in the apartment, berates Ephram for taking his advice to “get out of the friend zone” too far. He wonders what Ephram was thinking. Ephram admits that he wasn’t, actually, and that “it just sort of happened.” Bright sarcastically asks if they “just fell on top of each other,” and I get really squicked out as my head cold-addled mind gradually remembers that he’s actually talking about his sister here. Ephram says that it did pretty much happen that way, and recaps the postcard story, concluding that “it was a wacky night.” Bright asks if this means he and Amy are together again. Ephram calmly replies he doesn’t know, as he hasn’t seen Amy since that night. Bright doesn’t get Ephram’s “zen” attitude. “You don’t get it – you’re exposed. You’re like a wide receiver going over the middle for a high pass. Pain. I’m talking serious pain.” Ephram starts getting defensive and claims that he only confessed to Bright because he thought Hannah might say something that could be of use to Ephram. Bright informs him that Hannah also just found out. Ephram frowns (moreso than usual, I mean) and is a bit surprised to hear this, but shrugs “Okay,” and sits down. But Boyfriend!Bright just can’t let things go, asking if “okay” is really all Ephram has to say, and if he thinks it’s good or bad that Amy waited to tell Hannah. Ephram’s response is to fold laundry. Bright gets even more hilarious, pleading with Ephram to “focus” with him. “If you want to know what my sister’s feeling, you’re gonna have to ask her. Relationships are based on communication, honesty, trust. You play these games, no one’s gonna win.” Ephram snarks that “somebody’s been drinking the Kool-Aid.” Bright attributes his new outlook to “six months and counting in a Hannah-healthy relationship. I think I get a pin soon.” Heh. He concludes that the longer Ephram waits to do something, the worse things will get. Ephram insists that he’s already done something; he’s told Amy his feelings, and now the ball’s in her court. He lobs a baseball cap at Bright and bitterly wishes him a merry Christmas, before marching off with his laundry in tow. Which is a perfectly appropriate thing to say now, as well as in the context of the episode itself, but was kind of hilarious when the WB put the show on hiatus for three months, and this aired on March 27. Hee! I’m so easily amused when I’m sick.

Nina’s organizing things in her closet. Andy, from a far-off place, calls out a greeting, and Nina replies that she’s upstairs. Andy appears, holding two cups of coffee. Nina welcomes him back from his trip to New York and asks how it was. Andy says they had a lot of food and saw a lot of family, and also a naked man on the subway, which they told Delia was “performance art.” Though I doubt this lie was necessary, given how much Nina’s already corrupted the kid. Andy, watching Nina sort through her closet, actually asks what she’s doing. She’s rearranging things, which means she has more closet space but has now, rather ironically, realized that she hates all of the clothes for which she’s made space. While Nina mutters her disgust with turtlenecks, Andy figures the time is right to broach the delicate subject of Jake. Nina says that the last time she saw him was when he came by to pack his bag for the rehab center in Carbondale, which, she notes, was the same one he spent time in prior to his move to Everwood, “not that he ever told me.” Andy dopily replies that “that’s probably a good thing,” then realizes what he just said and quickly adds that he’s referring to Jake’s going to rehab, and not to his failure to tell Nina about his history of addiction. Andy unnecessarily announces that he’s “not so sure what to say here.” Nina claims that she isn’t, either, but continues talking anyway. “It’s, uh, it’s just so weird. It’s like everything we had, everything he was, was a total lie, and I still can’t help but feel sad.” Andy thinks this is only natural, given how long she and Jake have been together. Nina feels like it’s more than that, though, “like this terrible deja vu.” She compares it to her break-up with Shutup Carl, which was awful and felt like a betrayal, but “was a gay man coming out. It’s not like I could blame him for that. And now with Jake, it is the same thing.” Andy disagrees, though this is cold comfort to Nina, who berates herself for kicking out a sick man who needs help, then crying about it to Andy, for which she apologizes. Andy smiles and shakes his head a little, which action Nina questions. Andy explains that she amazes him sometimes; “you actually feel guilty about being angry?” Nina admits that she does, a little, but Andy assures her that she has every right to be angry. Nina knows this. “Believe me, I have no desire to go through this again. I am so tired of being the helping hand to other people’s bigger problems,” Andy. Though I added that last word there, you can tell it’s what she really means. She continues that she has concerns, too, like Sam’s and its namesake. This suddenly puts her back on the Jake track, though, as she realizes how awful it would be for Sam if she broke up with Jake. Andy understands this, but insists that she can’t base her decision upon what Sam wants. “Because ultimately, what’s best for you is what’s best for your son.” Nina knows this, but wishes she could just crawl off somewhere and have the whole problem disappear. Andy promises to support her, but urges her to deal with it sooner rather than later. Nina: “You think I shouldn’t take him back.” Andy doesn’t confirm this, but simply suggests that she visit and talk with him. “Then you’ll know what to do.” Nina smiles a little, perhaps as pleased as I am with the progress Andy’s made since the season premiere. Yay for personal growth!

Amy and Hannah stroll down Everwood’s sidewalk. Hannah is calling out Amy for waiting a week to tell her about the Ephram sex. Amy defensively replies that Hannah was in Minnesota. Hannah sarcastically asks if Amy’s aware that they have phones in Minnesota. Well, maybe she caught wind of that “no TV” thing and assumed your family was Amish. Amy apologizes and explains that she hoped to figure things out on her own, but ultimately couldn’t. Hannah wants more info, and asks what happened afterwards, like what Amy said. Amy confesses that she said nothing, as she was too shocked by the “relapse sex” and, particularly, by the discovery of the postcards and Ephram’s “I love you.” Hannah asks if Amy really didn’t know that Ephram still loved her. Amy: “No. Why would I?” Because you have a functioning brain? Hannah casually replies that she knew, which is one more shock for Amy, who asks “What? When? How?” Hannah tells her how Ephram asked her to stay in town for Amy’s sake, and that “it was all very adorable.” Amy asks why Hannah failed to tell her about the adorableness sooner. Hannah assumed that Ephram would tell Amy himself, or that she’d figure it out herself. “I’m not a meddler.” Amy accuses her of meddling “all the time,” and that her “middle name is meddle” and I think Amy might be confusing Hannah with herself here. Hannah retorts that her middle name is Katherine, “with a ‘K’, in case you ever want to buy me something with a monogram.” Amy’s still upset and basically blames Hannah for everything that just happened with Ephram. Hannah thinks that the only thing that matters is: “was it meaningful?” It was, of course; “it was Ephram.” Hannah the romantic smiles at this, until Amy sighs that “this is bad.” They sit on a bench. Hannah asks if the situation has to be bad. Amy doesn’t know, and asks for Hannah’s opinion. Hannah reminds her that she's not a meddler. Amy asks how things are with Bright. Hannah replies that they showered together. Amy is the most shocked she’s been in this whole scene, and asks if they... Hannah quickly exclaims “No, no, no, of course not!” Of course not! Because why would the two things ever be connected? It’s perfectly normal for someone with Hannah’s beliefs and level of experience to just suddenly take a shower with her boyfriend! Who hasn’t told that story? Aren’t you glad someone else is recapping “Getting to Know You”? Heh. Anyhoo, she continues that they’re “very clean.” The two girls peppily resume their journey down the sidewalk.

Brown Cucina. Ephram is on a computer, fiddling around with Kyle’s Juilliard audition CD, while Kyle browses through the cupboard in search of Ding-Dongs. Ephram ignores his snack cake-related queries and tells him how he's arranged the three songs. Kyle has some issue with putting the ballad at the end, but all-knowing Ephram explains that it’s best to lead off with something up-tempo. Andy enters, carrying a copy of Irv's novel; Kyle says hi and informs him that he’s out of Ding-Dongs. Andy: “Thank you, Kyle. I’ll try not to panic.” He drops the book on the counter and advises them against buying it, as “it’s all crap.” Kyle doesn’t even know who Irv is, and Andy doesn’t bother telling him. Andy glances up again and asks if Delia knows Ephram’s using her computer. Heh. (Which has the weirdest logo, by the way. It’s like an Apple, but...not. Guess Mac wasn’t a sponsor.) Ephram doesn’t really care, but Andy thinks “you would if you’d seen her lately. She’d kick your skinny white ass.” Andy asks what they’re doing, and Kyle, with a mouth full of something or other, explains. Andy begins reminiscing about doing the same thing the year before. “Except that I was him, and you [pointing to Kyle] were...him too. Wait, is that right? No, no. You were him and I was me – no, I was me and you were – well, whatever it was, it was a great memory.” Hee! It’s not that hard a comparison to work out, but I do adore how flustered these characters can get. Sometimes Everwood is like a workshop in writing characters who converse like real people. Ephram asks if Andy shouldn’t be at work right now. Andy asks if Ephram and Kyle, especially, shouldn’t be at school. Kyle explains that he’s allowed to leave early three times a week for piano practice. Ephram reminds Andy that he made the same arrangement during his crazy Juilliard-prepping year. Andy: “Yes, and now you go to community college.” Burn! Ephram asks Kyle to “see what I have to deal with?” Kyle doesn’t get caught up in the wacky father-son banter, but instead expresses his approval of Ephram’s choice of fonts. Ephram notices a paper and asks if it’s Kyle’s essay; Kyle admits that it is, but that it sucks and isn’t ready to be read by Ephram. Ephram replies that his own essay went through about ten drafts, and starts looking over Kyle’s. Andy, sitting at the table behind them and sorting through mail, smiles at Ephram’s transformation into Andy. Or into himself. Whatever.

The exterior shot heavily implies that we’re now at Colorado A&M, a suspicion borne out by the fact that Amy’s taking notes in a class. A professor is lecturing about a guy who said “the system itself is flawed,” and asks what the students think, calling specifically on Amy. Amy has apparently just been woken from some Ephram-reverie, and asks Professor Feminist to repeat the question. Prof. Fem amusedly replies that she thinks she’s had enough of herself already, so we know she’s a funny, approachable professor. She proposes that they conclude early, adding that she has a Pilates class to get to, ha ha ha! The students dutifully laugh. Prof. Fem walks up to Amy, who apologizes for spacing out. Prof. Fem missed Amy, since she can usually turn a lecture ino a discussion. Amy starts to explain, but Prof. Fem cuts her off. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. Some guy did something that’s got you all gobbledygook, and now you can’t concentrate on anything else.” Note the use of the hip lingo the students are using today, like “gobbledygook.” Amy admits that it’s “blasphemy, I know, daydreaming about a boy in my Intro to Feminist Theory class.” Prof. Fem non-sequiturs that Amy’s going to do great things, and in ten years become the first female president. Amy nerds that that’s not possible, as she would be younger than is required by the Constitution. Prof. Fem changes the subject to something more immediate, asking if Amy’s heard about the “mess” involving the search for a new provost. Amy has; there are no female candidates. Prof. Fem adds that they’ve never hired a woman. She explains that she’s meeting with a few grad students to brainstorm ways to get the message through to the search committee, and invites Amy to join them. Amy is flattered, but wonders if it matters that she’s only an undergrad. Prof. Fem likes this about her, actually, as her grad students are “getting a little jaded.” Amy thinks it sounds like fun, and asks about time. Prof. Fem says “sevenish,” and promises to email her the address. Amy smiles the smile of the professor's pet.

Bookstore. Irv is having a book-signing. An angry Andy cuts in front of the line, infuriating Thurmond, and tells Irv he has “a bone to pick” with him. “The doctor dies alone?” Irv asks “excuse me?” so Andy clarifies by reading directly from the book. “Some people said it was old age.” He hrumphs an “old age, huh?” at this. “Others thought it was the harsh winter. But as I stood there watching the coffin lowered into the grave, his son and daughter the only family he had left in this hard world, I knew: the doctor died of a distraught heart. He never escaped from his grief, and it finally killed him.” Andy slams the book shut. So it’s an upper of a story, then. Irv lamely replies that it’s fiction, but Andy is convinced that Irv truly believes that Andy’s life will end that way. Irv tries to usher Andy out, but Andy won’t go until he answers the question. Irv replies that when Andy first came to Everwood, he was “a broken man, torn-up and grieving, barely able to make it through the day.” Andy insists that he’s gotten better since then. Irv agrees that much has improved; “you got your family back, you got your medicine back, you got your surgery back. But one thing hasn’t changed: you’ve still got this sadness about you, behind the eyes.” Andy exclaims that he lost his wife. Irv points out that it happened years before. Andy continues that even though he misses Julia, it doesn’t mean he’ll die alone, as he’s dated a number of women since coming to Everwood. Irv, refusing to lose this argument, notes that he couldn’t have shared a life with any of the women. It continues to be quite the quotable episode for Andy, who shouts a defense: “Let me tell you something: lots of men go after women who are unavailable. Most men go after unavailable women because most men are emotionally unavailable! That’s why they hate us!” Irv is finally humbled – or, more likely, tired of having this conversation and well-aware of the dent this hold-up is making in his profit margin – and concedes that Andy’s probably right, and that he’s just trying to sell a book. He tells Andy he’ll see him later, leaving the doctor to stew in his righteous indignation.

Amy, in her waitressing attire, is studying in Nina’s office. A very chipper-seeming (well, for him) Ephram knocks on the open door, remarking that he thought he might find her “there,” meaning in the general vicinity of Sam’s. Amy apologizes for not calling, and they have a back-and-forth about how it’s okay, no it’s not and I’m really not avoiding you, I know, we need to talk, no pressure, and so on. Amy confesses that the situation is really confusing, and that, though she thought about him the whole time he was in New York, and talked with Hannah, Nina, and Prof. Feminist, things are becoming even less clear to her. Ephram understands this; “it’s like the more time that passes, the more it seems like it didn’t actually happen.” Amy says that’s it, exactly, and observes that Ephram’s the only one who understands, yet she can’t talk to him. Ephram wonders why not. Amy thinks it’s “against the rules,” but Ephram proposes they make their own rules, and suggests they go out for dinner the next night in order to discuss things. Amy likes this idea, but remembers her commitment to Prof. Fem, and asks if they can go out the night after, instead. Ephram, of course, will take anything, and admits to being “pathetically free.” It’s all well and good, but then Ephram decides that the only suitable exit, really, is to get Amy all flustered by giving her a chaste goodbye kiss. Yes, it’s best not to show your hand too soon there, Ephram.

Brown Kitchen of Preteen Bitchiness. Delia’s on the phone when Andy asks her to hang up and set the table. Delia ignores him, so he reiterates his request more forcefully. Delia rolls her eyes and whinily complies, referring to Andy as what sounds like a “turdball” in the process. Andy expresses his lack of appreciation for her attitude, language, and excessive phone usage. Delia thinks this wouldn’t be an issue if he bought her a cellphone, just like her friends Brittany, Courtney, and Thalia have. Andy reminds her that she just got a new laptop, and wonders if she has any friends besides the aforementioned trio. Delia does not, in fact, and doesn’t feel she needs any others. Dopey Andy asks about “the Banks girl, I think her name is Emma.” Suspicious, Delia asks how he knows her name. Andy claims to know of all her classmates, so Delia challenges him to name them. Caught, Andy admits to having read Delia’s email. Delia is aghast. Andy barrels on, informing her that he’s fully aware of “Operation Fat Cow.” Dude! Delia’s suddenly a horrible person! Andy thinks so, too, pulling the “ashamed of yourself” card. Delia argues that he’s the one who should be ashamed of himself for reading her private email. Andy asserts his rights as her father and as the one who’s paying for her internet account. Then he really goes for the guilt: “Frankly, Delia, I’ve never been so disappointed in you. I didn’t raise you this way, and neither did your mother.” Delia retorts that Julia would never have read her email, because she trusted her. Andy doesn’t see this as an issue of trust, but Delia insists that it is. “You just don’t get it because nobody ever trusts you.” She’d do well to take note of the lethal expression on Andy’s face, but she goes right on, declaring that “I already know Ephram doesn’t–” this earns her a “Watch it, now” from Andy “–and neither did Mom! You lied to her all the time and said you were coming home, but you never did! Maybe that’s why she stopped making dinner!” Preparing to leave anyway, she goes for broke: “No wonder she hated you.” Andy orders Delia to her room. Delia points out that she’s going there anyway. Andy: “Well, go faster!”

Nina arrives at the Carbondale place. Cut to she and Jake sitting next to a fake lake, in front of a campfire. Nina observes that if one has to go to rehab, there are worse places to do it. Jake jokes that it’s where all the “high-class addicts” come. Awkward chit-chat about the nice rooms, through which we learn that Jake’s staying in a motel and only going to the center for meetings. Nina notes that Jake had her on the visitor’s list, and wonders how he knew she was coming. Jake didn’t know, and is, in fact, surprised to see her. Nina asks if he thought she’d never talk to him again. Jake, feeling all honest, admits “Maybe.” After a moment of silence, he continues, swearing that he never meant to hurt her or Sam, and wishes he could take everything back. Nina, in turn, assures him that she’s not mad, or, at least, isn’t anymore. She repeats what she said to Andy, about no longer being able to “pick up the pieces of other people’s lives.” Jake knows this, but Nina has more. “I don’t think that you’re a bad person, but you’re not who I thought you were, either. And every time I think to myself ‘Okay, we can just wipe the slate clean and try to move on,’ I just...I can’t see it happening. I have this life that I’ve worked really hard for, and I can’t get lost in yours.” She apologizes, but Jake tells her not to be sorry, because she’s right; she deserves to be happy and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that. “I don’t want to be a burden anymore.” Nina replies that he never was, but Jake asserts that he would be if he hung around. He insists that he’ll get through it on his own, though he doesn’t know how. Nina tearfully says goodbye, before leaving him to brood before the fire, alone.

Ephram’s strolling along what I think is the ECC campus, talking on his cell with someone who quickly identifies herself as Kyle’sMom, i.e. 'Jessica Hunter.' She tells him that the high school just called to say that Kyle was absent, and she wondered if Ephram would know his whereabouts. Ephram does not, and asks if everything’s okay. Jessica doesn’t know, since “usually when he stays home from school, he at least answers the phone.” The plot thickens! Ephram asks what she means by “usually,” and she explains that this is his fourth absence of the last two weeks. Ephram doesn’t respond, which Jessica seems to interpret as lack of concern, since she hastily apologizes for bothering him about it and says that Kyle’s probably just off practicing somewhere. She says she’ll see Ephram tomorrow, and hangs up.

Ephram is concerned, however, and discovers Kyle playing a jazzy little number in their usual practice room. Ephram asks why he’s not in fifth period. Kyle refers to his American Government class as “a total joke,” since football players skip it all the time. Ephram points out that Kyle isn’t a football player. Kyle sarcastically and teenagerly asks if Ephram’s his dad. Ephram: “No, but you obviously need one.” Kyle is so stunned by the serious response that he simply resumes playing. Ephram’s far from done, however. He asks if Kyle thinks it’s all a game, “you think you’re so much better than everybody else that you can just [slamming the piano shut to emphasize his point] skip school whenever you feel like it?” Kyle declares that he doesn’t care about school, since he’ll be gone in a year anyway. He reopens the piano. Ephram reminds him that he doesn’t even have an audition yet. Kyle retorts that he’ll get one. Ephram: “And what if you don’t? You’re fifteen years old! You keep this up, you’re gonna get kicked out of County. Then what? What if you don’t get into Juilliard? You’re nothing but a high school dropout. I’m not going to let that happen.” Kyle, who’s apparently something of a slow learner, snots that Ephram needs to get over himself. Ephram quietly asks Kyle to listen, which he refuses to do. “Look, don’t try to be my friend one day and my dad the next. Either pick one, or stay away from me. Guess what: I can live without both.” Kyle storms out.

Brown/Abbott office. Edna, standing behind Harold’s desk, is trying to convince Andy to mount a TV on the wall, which Andy refuses to do. He then expositionally asks how much longer she’ll be using their offices. She replies that she’ll be there until Jake’s back, “which can’t be soon enough.” As she sorts through mail, she notices an envelope from “American Adoption Solutions” and wonders what Harold would want with that. On cue, the man himself enters, reading aloud from A Mountain Town. “Dapper, genial, and more urbane than any small-town doctor had a right to be, Howard Allen was something of a hometown hero.” Howard Allen? Nice work, Merv. I can see now why Arnie Breen is so convinced the book’s about him. “Schooled at the hand of his legendary father, Howard enjoyed a certain reputation for exactitude–” Andy tells him to “can it,” calling the novel a “joke.” Harold innocently asks if he feels that way because “I am ‘genial’ and ‘urbane,’ while you are, how is it put, ‘a talented but complicated man burdened with an insatiable ego the size of which the people in Evergreen–'” Ha! Irv really does hate Andy. Also, Irv is the worst namer ever. Yikes. Andy is genuinely upset, and orders Harold to stop, adding that he should “sue that moron for libel.” He remembers Edna’s in the room, and throws a limp “no offense” at her. Edna: “No...how could that be offensive?” Hee. Andy retreats to his private office, and, after a silent exchange with Edna, Harold follows. He reminds Andy that it’s just a book, which really isn’t what Andy wants to hear. Andy announces that he’s sick of being judged by everyone, of being thought of as an egomaniac and a bad father and husband. “I was not a bad husband. I loved my wife more than anything on this earth and I worked my ass off to make her happy. And now I’m the bad guy? I’m the one who can’t be trusted? She’s the one who cheated on me.” Harold’s a few years behind the viewing audience in receiving this particular revelation and is duly surprised, repeating it as a question. He quickly apologizes for his interest and says it’s none of his business. Andy’s willing to talk, however. He tells him how he found out: at a fundraiser, the other man offered to go to the bar and get drinks for anyone who wanted. “I know she didn’t hear him, much less answer. But when he came back, he had her drink in his hand. Whiskey sour with a twist of lemon. And the way she took it from him, without even looking...there was something just so familiar about it. That’s when I knew.” He continues that Julia and the guy were on the board together at Ephram’s school. Harold asks if he ever talked to her about it. Andy explains that the couple of times he tried, it devolved into a fight. Then he stayed in a hotel until she ended things, and for the four months before her death, they pretended it had never happened. Harold is sincerely sorry, and remarks on how hard it must be for Andy to have to carry around all that anger. Andy says he doesn’t, actually, because he can’t, since Julia’s gone. Harold thinks that’s just it, though; Andy never got a chance to finish, or even start, the argument. “It’s as though you both went to bed angry.” Andy: “Except she never woke up.”

Nina morosely eats Chinese food. Hannah enters, having successfully put Sam to bed, and asks how Nina is. Nina not-at-all-convincingly mumbles that she’s okay. Noting this, Hannah offers her services as a sounding board. So Nina opens up a little, remarking that she’s never been the one to do the breaking up before, and it’s not as easy as she thought it would be. “But you never liked him anyway, so you probably think it’s for the best, huh?” Hannah, as it turns out, does not. “I mean, I admit the whole ‘recovering addict’ part’s a little disturbing, plus the fact that he lied about it...” Nina wonders if this is supposed to make her feel better. Hannah says that Nina and Jake have already been through the worst part, and she now knows exactly who he is. “It just seems so unfair that it’s over.” Nina thinks breaking up would be the smart move, putting an end to her “bad habit of always coming to the rescue.” Hannah can’t believe that Nina would consider this a bad habit, and has an interesting perspective that had to have been influenced at least a little by her parents’ situation: “I mean, if you can come to someone’s rescue, it means that you’re the strong one, doesn’t it? You can handle whatever’s thrown at you and still save a free hand to help all the other people who are drowning.” Nina supposes that’s one way of looking at it. Hannah continues that she doesn’t see the problem with taking care of loved ones as long as you’re taking care of yourself. She asks if Nina loves Jake, which she confirms she does. Hannah begins to come across as a Nina/Jake fangirl, except that I suspect it’s really more about her own issues: “So wouldn’t it be kind of great if you could be the one to help him through this? I mean, boy, Nina, he’s really gonna need it, don’t you think?” Nina considers this and smiles.

Prof. Fem’s get-together. Some curly-haired girl approaches Amy and introduces herself as ‘Beth.’ Amy recalls first meeting her at the dorm party of two episodes ago. Beth is glad Amy’s there and remarks that ‘Laurie’ doesn’t usually invite freshman, so apparently Amy’s made an impression. Unfortunately, it seems Jo, Meg, and Marmee March have made less of a splash. Amy hopes she has – made a good impression, that is – because Laurie’s just so “cool.” Beth concurs, and offers Laurie’s sponsorship of her independent study as an example. Wow, I guess that means that 75% of the professors I knew were cool! Beth continues that Laurie’s a great resource if Amy’s interested in politics, since she used to work on “the Hill.” Amy didn’t know this, nor did she know that there are actually people who refer to it as “the Hill.” Beth suddenly asks about Amy’s “boyfriend.” Amy’s all, “who what huh?” Beth is referring to “that guy you were with at the party,” so Amy realizes she means Ephram. She explains that he used to be her boyfriend, but it’s “complicated.” Beth nods knowingly. She mentions that “everybody thought he was so funny,” so all those in attendance at the party have just risen quite a bit in my estimation. But Beth’s interested in a little more than Ephram’s dry wit, as she adds that “if he ever does go on the market...” Amy is horrified, until Beth laughs that she was just kidding. Amy laughs nervously along with her. There was actually a method to Beth’s madness, though, as she observes that “that look pretty much answers the ‘is he your boyfriend’ question.” Amy looks a little sick to realize this.

Peak County High. Ephram is walking through— Oh, no. I can’t – I cannot go on without addressing it. The hair. The hat. It’s...it is utterly indescribable. It makes me want to weep, and then die [TM Psych].

So, in any event, Ephram walks about halfway down the hall before falling prey to a sudden attack of the 360 degree slow-motion camera turn. The vertigo this shot is inducing isn’t sitting well with the fashion tragedy, frankly. He turns, and walks back down the hallway, still in slow-mo. Time resumes its normal pace as he walks towards, and stops at, a classroom door; peeking inside, he sees Kyle at his desk, looking deeply pained. Ephram and his head accoutrements appear to identify.

Lunchtime, still at PCH. Kyle and his tray bump into an athlete, then some other guy, who turns and shoots him a look of disgust. Kyle finally spots Ephram perched upon a table, and asks, annoyed, if he’s checking up on him. Ephram admits that it was the plan, until he got there and walked past his old locker. "I got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. You know, when you get it on Sunday nights when you have to back to school in a couple of hours. I forgot about that feeling.” Kyle unnecessarily confesses that he feels that way every night. Ephram, of course, knows this. He reiterates the stupidity of cutting class, but apologizes for his outburst, since he’s not Kyle’s father. Kyle: “Fine. I forgive you, or whatever.” Ephram says that he is, however, Kyle's friend, and as such, wants to tell him something a little embarrassing. “You see that girl over there in the red?” Ephram points to a blonde girl surrounded by friends. “She’s the one that’s been ruining my life lately.” The symbolism is rather lost on Kyle, who exclaims “You’re dating Kimber Powell?!” Hee! Ephram: “It’s a metaphor, dumbass. She’s a total alpha chick. Amy Abbott, all the way. You see that guy, over there?” He indicates a jock, chugging something while rooted on by jock friends. “That’s my roommate/best friend.” Kyle calls the guy a jerk. Ephram, feeling the wisdom of his advanced years, says he just seems like one on the surface. Kyle: “No, I’m pretty sure he’s on parole.” Dang! Kyle’s about to get heed again. Good work, young man. Ephram needs to make his point, so asks him not to “fight the hypothetical.” He says that if someone had told him his freshman year that he would be friends with people like this, “I would have laughed in their face. But it happened.” Contrarian Kyle whines that he doesn’t want to be friends with these people, then adds, for good measure, that he’ll be gone in a year anyway. Ephram replies that moving away won’t change what’s going on inside. “You’ve still gotta go through all the misery of being a teenager. It sucks, but trust me, nobody’s figured out a way around it yet.” Going to Juilliard could even make things worse; “be all by yourself in a city where you’re five years younger than everybody else?” Kyle seems to take this into serious consideration. Ephram takes this as a cue to move on to the inspirational portion of his lecture, promising him that either way, he’ll survive. “You’re smart, weirdly funny, and you got a lot more going on for you than you realize.” All this positive reinforcement makes Kyle uncomfortable, so he sarcastically remarks that he’s totally going to run for student body president now, and thanks Ephram. But Ephram just smirks about this and says “All right,” and Kyle laughs a little, and progress is clearly being made on the mentor/protege front.

Irv’s office. A knock on the door is followed by Andy letting himself in. Noticing the small suitcase on Irv’s desk, he asks if the locals have run him out of town. Irv chuckles about this, and explains that he’s packing for his book tour; “if you’re here to yell at me again, you can save it ‘til I get back.” Instead, Andy apologizes, though in the process, he adds that unlike his literary counterpart, he would never drive a station wagon, and neurologists, not neurosurgeons, perform EEGs. Irv is unimpressed by this attempt at an apology. Andy admits that Irv was right about Andy’s sadness. He attributes this to his Julia baggage, but doesn’t think there’s much he can do it about now. He does thank Irv, though, for helping him to “identify the issues.” Irv summarizes the problem: “You’re still mad at your dead wife.” Andy says he is, strange as it sounds. Irv smiles a bit and retrieves something from a desk drawer: a framed copy of Time, bearing a cover photo of the Iranian hostages. He hands it to Andy, who asks what it is. Irv explains that he was reading it on November 19, 1979, when his then-wife came in and told him the marriage was over. “Fifteen years of marriage and all she could say was she didn’t love me anymore. It was like having my heart ripped out in slow-motion.” Andy is sorry, but Irv continues that he carried the magazine – and his anger – around for more than twenty years before finally just calling his ex and letting loose; he forgave her and met Edna six months later. Andy thinks this is very nice, but notes the difficulty involved in calling Julia, “unless we bust out the Ouija board.” Irv urges him to be creative. Andy jokingly proposes flying to New York to “scream at her headstone,” but Irv gives him a better idea when he mentions his own favorite method: writing. Andy seems to approve of this suggestion.

Jake’s in his room, packing, when he hears someone beginning to open the door. He calls for “five more minutes,” before turning to see Nina standing in the doorway. What kind of freaky locks are they using in Carbondale hotels and/or rehab centers? Did they give her a keycard at the desk just because she was on the visitor’s list? Whatever. Jake is very surprised to see her, though only says that he thought she was housekeeping. Nina asks if he’s going somewhere. He says that he’s returning to Everwood for a few days, just to see to things with his practice, and then thinks he might head to Arizona. Nina repeats “Arizona?” a little skeptically; Jake says he'd like to try warm weather for a change, so I hope he’s not looking into Flagstaff or Prescott or anything. Nina replies that he’s just going to start over from scratch. Jake confirms this, adding that he can’t exactly stay in Everwood, now, can he? He assures Nina that he’ll have movers come by on Thursday to get his things, and he’ll stop in then too, to say goodbye to Sam. He’s also talked to someone named ‘Brian’ about having the restaurant deed put in Nina’s name only. Finally having enough of this, Nina grabs clothing out of Jake’s hands and tells him this is crazy. “You are not going anywhere except home with me.” Jake is a little flummoxed. Nina says that she thought it was over, but has decided she doesn’t want to give up on him. Jake is still flummoxed and reminds her of what she originally said. Nina remembers, and won’t take it back, but is instead giving their relationship a second chance. She thinks that they both messed up; her mistake was to assume Jake was essentially perfect. Jake confesses that he wanted to believe it, as did Nina. Now, however, she just wants to know the real Jake. Jake sits down next to her on the bed, and admits that the real him “isn’t always pretty,” and I bet Edna would have a good quip for that one. He asks if Nina thinks she can deal with the unprettiness. Nina replies that she can deal with a lot. Jake says that he’s not good at asking for help; according to Nina, he won’t have to ask. A moment passes, then Jake tearfully asks why Nina’s “being so amazing” to him. Nina does not say that it’s because a seventeen-year-old girl told her to, but because she’s “in love with you, stupid!” That’s reason enough for Jake, and the two kiss us into the final commercial break.

Ephram and Amy’s Dinner O’Fun and Self-Discovery. Wisely, Ephram has removed things from his head. They’re apparently in a campus-based restaurant, as Ephram remarks that all they have at ECC are vending machines. Amy agrees that the place is great, and, preparatory to the Season 5 that will never come, says she’s considering staying at A&M instead of transferring to Princeton. Ephram’s clearly trying to be cool, but asks “Oh yeah?” just a little too eagerly. Amy responds with an equally pseudo-blase “Yeah.” Then: “Cool!” “Yeah.” Heh. Amy looks around and sighs before looking back at Ephram, who gives her a dorky little laugh. Finally, Amy begins, telling him that the other night was “amazing” and the confession of love even moreso. Ephram is very earnest, and promises that he didn’t tell her that because of the sex, but had actually been trying to tell her for a long time. Amy knows this, and had been thinking about it too. Ephram is heartened by this, and puts himself right out there: “I mean, you were right last year. Why can’t you meet the person you’re supposed to be with at 17? It happens all the time. I was an idiot for fighting you on it, I get that now.” Amy gazes at him, her expression inscrutable. He goes on: “I mean, think about it. You’re supposed to be in Princeton, I’m supposed to be in New York. But, here we are. It’s like fate.” Amy says she “used to feel the same way.” Ephram nervously chuckles about this “used to.” Amy reminds him that he left. “You spent time in Europe, traveling and having adventures. When I read all your postcards, Ephram, it’s like I saw you grow, right before my eyes. I want that. I want my Europe.” I am going to give Amy props here for finally showing a real interest in being independent and figuring out who she is, but I can’t say I’ll be particularly charitable with regard to some of the ways she demonstrates that newfound drive in the next batch of episodes. But still, as I’ve already said in a different context: yay for personal growth! Ephram can sense things slipping away, and insists that he and Amy could go to Europe together. Amy laughs, a little, that that’s not what she meant, at all; she thinks that her Europe might be right there, in all the new people she’s met and causes in which she’s become involved. Ephram is happy for her and is sure he could be a part of it with her. Oh, Ephram. Amy thinks maybe he could, and maybe they could get back together and it would work. “But if it didn’t, we would be so broken, Ephram, and we’d never get another chance. And I want us to have another chance, because somewhere in my heart...I still think you’re my person.” Ephram, looking truly pathetic now, clings to this and asks “You do?” Amy does, but thinks it’s just not the right time for her, since she needs to figure out who she is before getting back into the relationship. Ephram is very, very sad, but Amy asks if he’s “mad.” He’s not; “it’s not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I understand. You go off and have your Europe, I’ll be here when you get back. Probably still waiting for a menu.” Amy smiles, relieved that she hasn’t broken his snark along with his heart.

A sleepy-looking Delia – clad in pajamas and robe, no less – hearing someone typing, wanders from her room to the office, where, behind a previously-closed door, Andy is working at a typewriter. She sarcastically asks if he’s ever heard of a computer; he asks if she’s ever heard of a knock. So things are still good. Delia cautiously asks if she’s still grounded. She is. Delia sighs that she’ll be in her room, not talking to anyone. Andy: “Have fun with that.” Delia peeks in one more time before heading back. Andy keeps typing and balling up drafts and tossing them to the floor (have people ever actually done that, with the rolling and throwing on the floor?) and we soon see that he’s writing a letter to Julia, though what he writes after that is left to our imaginations.

Next time: General awesomeness reigns, as Ephram gets his piano groove back, Harold and Rose begin adoption proceedings, and Amy discovers a new way to lose friends and alienate people. All this and more, brought to you by Mercury Milan!