Lost and Found

Ephram and Bright are sitting in a classroom while a fellow student returns papers. Bright crows about the B+ he received on his and holds the paper out for Ephram’s admiration. He proclaims it a “career high,” and Ephram offers a subdued congratulations. Bright then asks a question that needs to be on a T-shirt, like, two years ago: “Who puts the ‘stud’ in American Studies?” He concludes that he should “do this professionally.” Ephram: “You want to be a historian?” Bright makes a face. “You know what that would make me? Oh, God, never mind.” BWAH! Just for that comment, in my fantasy S5, Bright totally does become a history major, which is not out of the realm of possibility, because he reminds me an awful lot of this genuinely smart, but seemingly doofy guy with whom I had several classes over the three years that I majored in history. Could you not just picture Bright finding out, a day or so before graduation paperwork was due, that he had never officially declared his major, because he thought all you had to do was announce to the provost's secretary what your major was? Let me tell you, there was never a dull moment in those classes. Sometimes I wonder what that guy’s up to these da... Oh. Yeah. There’s still a show going on. So, uh, Bright asks what Ephram got, and Ephram reveals his D. Bright notes that the professor also included a “See me” comment, and observes that that’s never good, “especially all capitalized like that.” Guess someone never told Professor Anonymous that it’s impolite to shout orthographically. Um, exclamations like "bwah" excluded. Ephram kvetches a little that he thought the whole point of the Constitution was that it’s open to interpretation. Bright, all smug in his academic victory, adds “Not the wrong interpretation.” Ephram admits that he’s been a little “scattered” of late. Bright surmises that it’s because of Amy, and Ephram continues that it was too early to tell her how he felt, and now they can’t have a conversation unless she brings it up. Bright helpfully replies that she won’t, and Ephram thanks him for the reminder. He declares that he has “no idea what [he’s] doing” in Everwood. “I’m living in a crawl space, I’m going to community college, I’m getting worse grades than you are–” Bright indignantly tells him not to be a “hater. I got a B+. Anything higher than that is basically an A.” Dang. He knows his history and his alphabet. Bright is so giving Ephram a run for his money in the academic hotness department this week. Ephram goes on, saying that he used to have something to work towards, “like Juilliard or Amy,” but now has nothing. Bright asks him to consider what makes him happy. “And don’t say ‘Amy’ and don’t say ‘piano.’ If [now-relatively dated reference alert!] Jennifer can get over Brad, you can get over my sister. As far as piano goes, we’ve been down that road. Like, mix it up a little.” Ephram muses that he could go to Europe again, as he has $2000 saved up, but even that doesn’t much interest him. Bright is surprised to hear about Ephram’s massive savings. Ephram unnecessarily explains that it’s from the piano lessons, which Bright finds astounding. Ephram further explains that his rent is “practically nothing” [which I certainly hope Bright already knows], he eats at the Brown house [and also, if Reid can be trusted, eats nothing but pasta in the apartment], and doesn’t have a girlfriend on whom to lavish his small fortune. Bright says that once they use the $2000 for a hot tub, he will have a girlfriend. Ephram supports this plan about as much as you would expect him to, but Bright comes up with another idea, suggesting that they get a pool instead. Ephram, wearing a delightful expression of mild amusement crossed with mild disdain: “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not a big swimmer.” Bright says it doesn’t matter. “Bottom line, I’m gonna help you out, Ephram Brown, and you’re gonna find your happy.” He leaves for biology, leaving Ephram to ponder the question of how Bright actually managed to interpret the Constitution in seven-grades-better a way than he did.

Amy and Professor Laurie are walking around campus. To the latter’s delight, Amy is ranting about birth control not receiving insurance coverage. Prof. Laurie remarks on how unusual Amy is for taking such a personal interest in her class; “most kids just want to get an A and go home and watch Laguna Beach,” which she adds is “scarily instructive about gender roles.” She concludes that college is supposed to be for “waking you up, for getting you involved.” Amy says that Prof. Laurie’s class does just that for her, and now she’s interested in all sorts of organizations, like the Women’s Action Coalition and the Political Union. She wonders what she did with her time before all this. In a very rare moment, Prof. Laurie and I actually have the same response, which is that she was in a relationship, which, for Amy, has tended to be something like holding a full-time job. Even Amy concedes that it’s “time-suckage.” Prof. Laurie kind of crosses some weird boundaries here, as she asks how things are with Amy’s ex. Amy doesn’t quite know, and just rambles that she wants to give him space but misses him more than she expected to. “See? Suckage.” Prof. Laurie assures her that she’ll figure it out, and that she’s doing the right thing by throwing herself into her work. She informs Amy of one more possible distraction: helping to set up a new Planned Parenthood clinic. Amy thinks this sounds “awesome” and thanks her for the info. Prof. Laurie is pleased, and says she’ll see her later. Amy watches her leave and then looks around, totally in love with her professor and her new purpose in life.

Harold and Rose are in their living room with the adoption agency lady. Harold is holding a large African mask before his face and shaking a cowrie shell necklace. He sets down the mask and picks up a drum; a wider camera angle reveals that Adoption Agency Lady is holding a pot on her lap. Looks like the tourist traps in Africa saw Harold coming. Harold explains that he’s not sure from what kind of animal the drum was made, but that won’t stop him from getting down and funky. Adoption Agency Lady smiles tensely and begins to speak when he comes to a stop; unfortunately for her, he’s just found his rhythm, and it’s another several beats before he stops and guesses that it might be water buffalo. Rose reminds him that ‘Madeleine’ would probably like to ask them some questions. He sets down the drum and promises to get to the Tanzanian artifacts and ostrich eggs later. Madeleine begins by telling them how impressed she is by their application. Rose says they’ve given it a lot of thought, and Harold adds that they plan to study Amharic or Swahili immediately. Madeleine is pleased by their interest in the child’s culture, since the cultural and, particularly, racial differences can be challenging. Harold: “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem for us. In fact, I have a father who is African-American.” Hee! Madeleine is intrigued. Rose is annoyed. Catching her glare, Harold explains that it’s actually his stepfather, “but we’re very close.” Madeleine’s good with that, but informs them that another potential challenge is the child’s health, since they don’t usually know the parents’ medical history or if there’s a hereditary disease present. Often, she adds, they don’t even know the child’s true age. Harold and Rose are a bit shaken. Madeleine asks if the child’s age matters; would they be willing to adopt an older child, or one with special needs? Harold immediately says they would, but Rose confesses that they hadn’t considered any of this, assuming they’d adopt a baby. Madeleine says that the youngest children they place are around two to three years old, and even that’s unusual. Harold and Rose exchange another disturbed glance, and Rose guesses that they have a lot to discuss. Harold, however, looks too concerned for discussion.

Par-TAY! Bright is talking on his cell with someone who is pretty obviously Hannah, given that he’s saying things like “Are you kidding me? I hate this! The partying, the drinking...I’m not having fun!” Bright makes his way past drunk people and coupling couples. “I’m here for Ephram! The guy needs some cheering up. So, you know, I came here with him. That’s what friends do.” He promises to procure a sober driver, and asks if she’s sure she doesn’t want to come. Which she seems to be, since he whines a little before giving up. Just as he’s saying goodbye, he spots Ephram, puttin’ the moves on...Ms. Pac-Man. A cute blonde girl standing next to the game asks if Ephram’s a student at ECC, since she hasn’t seen him before. Ephram just now registers her presence, and says he is, before returning his attentions to his true lady-love. Bright appears deeply disappointed as he watches Cute Blonde Girl continue her pursuit, and Ephram continue his demonstration of utter apathy. Bright rushes over and asks CBG to excuse them and stay put, while he pulls Ephram aside. Ephram: “What are you doing?! I was up to ‘banana’!” Hee. Bright asks what Ephram’s doing by ignoring the “ridiculously hot girl all over” him. Ephram declares that she’s not his type. Bright's hand to Ephram's face: *slap* Hee! Best episode ever. Ephram smiles, for some reason. Bright points to CBG, who left her appointed station somewhere around “banana,” and asks “You want to find your joy? She’s right there.” He pushes him a little, urging him to “Go!” Ephram drunkenly swaggers up to her and greets her with a “Hey” before swallowing her face. They pull apart after several seconds, and Ephram gives her this hilarious raised-eyebrow look, all, “Look how awesome and assertive and not at all desperately in love with anyone else I am!” The only words out of his mouth, though, are “What’s your name?” CBG identifies herself as Sandy. Ephram repeats this in the tone of a slimy, has-been rock star coming on to a fresh-faced, disturbingly naive groupie.

Edna is seeing much less excitement, as she’s presently at home alone, watching the news while eating a frozen dinner. She sighs a bit, and gets up to take her tray into the kitchen, but suddenly falls backward and clutches her chest. She sits for a moment, struggling to breathe, and finally calls for an ambulance.

Next day. A young-looking female doctor strides into Edna’s room at the hospital and informs her that she did not have a heart attack. Andy, at Edna’s bedside, is glad of it. Dr. ‘Parsons,’ if IMDB is to be believed, runs down the list of Edna’s symptoms – “rapid heart rate, trembling, sweating, inability to catch your breath” – and attributes them to a panic attack. Edna repeats this, sounding appalled. Dr. Parsons quickly mentions that she can’t be sure, since there’s no medical definition for a panic attack. Edna exclaims that she was “shelled in ‘Nam and didn’t even break a sweat!” Andy suggests that she let the doctor finish. Dr. Parsons asks if she’s been under any stress. Edna snarks, “Besides having tubes stuffed up my nose and being stuck here all night?” Dr. Parsons smiles tightly and says yes, besides that. Edna denies being under any stress. Dr. Parsons wants her to return the following morning for an exercise-stress test, but Edna refuses. Andy, though, thinks it’s a good idea. Edna doesn’t care what he thinks, because she’s fine, fine, fine. Ignoring Edna entirely, Andy tells the doctor that he’ll look after her, and will call if anything changes. Dr. Parsons departs. Edna mutters that she looked fifteen. Andy asks if Edna’s called Irv; she has not, as she sees no reason to tell him about her “indigestion.” Andy thinks Irv would like to know that his wife spent the night in the ER. Edna reminds him that Irv’s on his book tour, and doesn’t need to worry about her. “His blood pressure’s already higher than mine.” *sad sigh* Andy’s about to speak, but Edna cuts him off. “And don’t even think about calling him, and Junior and Dimples [TWoP shoutout!]. Those two hovering around, I will have an attack.” Andy says fine, but orders her to have dinner with the Browns the following night. Edna insists that she doesn’t need a babysitter. Andy threatens to hire a nurse. Edna grumbles that she hates him. Andy: “Perfect. You’ll fit right in with Delia.” He leaves to talk with the doctor, while Edna’s left alone with her crankiness.

Close-up of Ephram’s sleeping, hungover face. Video game music plays in the background. Ephram suddenly wakes, confused as to the source of the noise. He gets up and looks down from his crawl space, where he spots Reid in the living room, playing Ms. Pac-Man. Ephram: “It followed me home?” Hee. Reid doesn’t know how or why it’s there, and remarks that as he’s in med school [which seems to be pretty much his entire identity at this point], he doesn’t need any more distractions. Ephram asks if he can turn down the volume. Reid asks if he had a “rough night,” and Ephram replies that he “tried to find salvation in the bottom of a keg” but it “failed miserably.” Reid says he’s looked there a couple of times, too. As Ephram retrieves a bottle of milk from the fridge, Reid asks from whence Ms. Pac-Man came. Ephram holds the bottle to his head and says that he and Bright went to a party. “I vaguely remember...writing a check...” Ephram lowers the milk bottle, looking mildly horrified. “Oh, my God. I think I paid $2000 for that.” Reid is stunned, and asks if there’s any way Ephram can return it. Oh, wow! Ephram just poured cereal into a bowl! So long, giant glass measuring cup. We had some good times. Getting back to the matter at hand, Ephram doesn’t even remember the identity of the seller. He hands Reid the cereal box and sits down to enjoy his breakfast. Reid observes that Ephram is “all kinds of messed up,” though Ephram denies this, not really wanting to engage in conversation with Reid. Reid senses this, and remarks that while they got off on the wrong foot, “I figured me not seeing Amy [sic] would have at least scored me some points. Like one.” Ephram apologizes for the “Amy drama” and admits that his request was uncool. Reid says it’s okay, especially since he thought he could really fall for Amy and he doesn’t need that, as he’s on the verge of failing. Ephram remarks that Andy always likened med school to “the fifth ring of Hell. Or maybe it was the seventh. I can’t remember, I always tuned him out anyway.” Reid says he’d pay for any words of wisdom on how to make it through. Having poured himself a bowl, he tosses the cereal box back to Ephram, who asks why Reid wants to be a doctor. Reid attributes it to his bipolar brother Danny, who saw several psychiatrists before finding one who really helped him. “I just couldn’t believe that one person could make that much of a difference. And when Dr. Lewan retired a few years ago, I realized that I want to be that doctor for Danny someday.” Ephram has been shamed out of snarkiness. Reid asks what Ephram wants to do. Ephram doesn’t know, which is his whole problem. Reid asks about the piano, but Ephram adamantly declares that it’s no longer his thing. Reid seems unconvinced, despite not having even been around back in the piano-crazy days. Ephram goes into a little more detail, though: “There’s this whole saga, and the only part that’s really important is the end. Basically, the last time I played piano, I felt physically ill. It was weird, I’d never felt that way before, and so I haven’t played since.” Reid understands that, but Ephram’s not finished. “But it’s more than that. It’s like...if I don’t play, it’s like I can pretend piano’s the one thing that really makes me happy. But, if I do play, and I’m wrong? I couldn’t deal with that. I’d have nothing.” The door opens, indicating that serious conversation time is over, as Bright enters and greets Ms. Pac-Man with an “I missed you!” and a big hug. Reid is amused. Bright asks for quarters, though, I have to say, it doesn't really seem fair to have to pay to play your own bloody game.

Hey everybody! Hannah’s got a new car! And she and Amy are really excited to tell us all about its great features! But I am not, actually, being compensated in any way by Mercury, so I think I’ll just be leaving all that out. After all the gushing, Amy says that she has to tell Hannah what Prof. Laurie told her. Hannah appears weary. Amy continues about how cool and life-changing the class is. Hannah agrees that Amy seems excited about it, and rolls her eyes to the side while Amy’s looking away. Amy starts talking about the harsh laws regarding adultery and rape in Pakistan. Hannah breezily asks Amy to remind her not to take a class like that when she gets to college. This is clearly the Wrong Thing to Say, as Amy mournfully asks if Hannah doesn’t care about what’s happening in the world. Hannah does, and agrees that the situation is horrible, but “horrible things happen every day,” citing the war in Iraq and the plight of the homeless as two examples. Amy realizes all this, and wants to do her part to help, which is why she’s going to volunteer at Planned Parenthood. Hannah gapes at Amy and asks, a little disappointedly, “You are?” Amy is completely oblivious to this reaction, and proceeds to suggest that Hannah join her. Hannah laughs and says “I don’t know” in a skeptical tone that really suggests “Have we met? Like, ever?” Amy thinks it would be fun, and only fitting, since Hannah's the one who “inspired all of this.” Hannah wonders how, and silently wonders if she can undo whatever it was she did. Amy explains that it’s because Hannah encouraged her to get involved in college instead of just worrying about boys and such. Hannah looks ill, but seizes on Amy’s mention of Ephram, asking if she’s thought any more about getting back together with him. Amy says she purposely hasn’t, but that Laurie and the class have been a real help with that, and also, that Laurie has been “so supportive.” Hannah thinks it's weird that Amy told her professor about her relationship woes. Thank you, Hannah. Amy explains that Laurie is more of a mentor than a teacher, and relates what she had said about throwing oneself into one’s work. Hannah suggests that maybe Amy shouldn’t be getting over Ephram. Amy sharply asks “What?” Hannah notes that Amy’s the one who decided not to see him, yet also has to keep herself occupied in order to get over him. “Maybe you shouldn’t be over it. Maybe this means you guys should get back together.” Amy doubts this, so Hannah plays the “asked me to stay for you” card again, and insists upon how much Ephram cares for Amy, and that she knows Amy still has feelings for him. Amy icily replies that she never denied having feelings for him. Hannah is a little taken aback by the tone, and tells her to think about it.”Ephram’s a good guy, and he really loves you. What’s so wrong about that?” Amy gives Hannah a short, tense smile, before looking ahead again. The tension is so thick that poor Hannah must resort to shilling for Mercury again in a desperate effort to cut it, though Amy doesn’t join her in examining the delightful cupholders.

Dinner at the Brown house. Edna asks about Delia’s bat mitzvah, and Delia cheerfully replies that she really likes her rabbi because he assigns so little homework. Andy asks Edna about work, and she merrily requests that he “lay off” and stop making her nervous. Everyone’s happy! Nothing’s wrong! All is right with the world! So Delia assumes it’s a keen time to tell Andy that Brittany’s family invited her on a spring break ski trip! Andy says this is “nice” and that they’ll discuss it later. Delia snottily asks “Why?” Andy doesn’t think they should be boring Edna with all the ski trip details. Edna, strangely failing to pick up on Andy’s delay tactics, says she’s heard worse, such as “Junior whimpering about the outlook for petunia season.” Delia exclaims that she already told Brittany she’d contact her about it after dinner. Andy thinks Brittany can wait a day. Delia insists that Brittany’s parents need to know that night. Edna gets up, saying she’ll “give [them] a minute.” Delia goes on that Brittany needs to know now or she’ll invite someone else and Delia will die and stop being popular and everyone will laugh!!! I mean, she doesn’t actually say those last three things, but they're heavily implied. Andy replies that if Delia needs an answer now, she’ll get one: no. Ha ha! Delia demands to know why not. Andy explains that he hasn’t spent time with Brittany’s parents, knows nothing about where they’ll be staying, and is not a fan of the influence Brittany’s been having over her. Delia doesn’t care if Andy hates her friends, because at least she has friends! Delia. Remember when you used to be friends with Bright? Not that that friendship would make much sense at this juncture, but at one point you managed to hang out with people who don't suck. Try that again. Andy retorts that what he hates is Delia’s attitude. Edna comes back over and urges them to “simmer down.” Andy also dislikes Delia’s timing in asking in front of a guest, and says that he used to pull the same stunt. Delia shouts that Andy doesn’t know anything and she hates him and he’s ruining her life! and storms off. Andy sighs and apologizes to Edna, remarking that it must have been great for her blood pressure. Edna prepares to “beat a hasty retreat before Round 2 starts” but suddenly pauses halfway to the door and clutches her chest. Oh, way to go, Delia and Andy. You’re always ruining everything! I hate you! Andy asks if she’s okay, and Edna sits down and asks for some water. Andy informs her that she’s spending the night with them. Edna is very distressed, though whether this is due to the panic attack or the prospect of living with Delia for a day is difficult to judge.

Ephram’s in the apartment, on the phone. He tells “Cindy” that he got all of her messages. “Sorry. Sandy.” After a few beats, he says that he “really can’t” as he’s trying to focus on work. Another moment, then: “I had a bitching time as well,” said in as Ephram a way as possible. He offers to call her, and hangs up. He goes back to writing something, when the phone rings again. He initially assumes it’s Sandy, and starts to let her down again, but then realizes it’s someone else; he receives the unfortunate news that someone has died.

Ephram, Hannah, and Bright are walking to the memorial service of that someone. Bright asks when it was that Ephram last talked to Will [Cleveland, that is], solving that mystery for...well, whoever’s reading this who hasn’t seen S4. Hey there! Sorry for the occasional spoiler-y allusions. Ephram says it was a few months earlier, and he seemed fine. Hannah asks if he knows how it happened. Ephram doesn’t, but mentions that Will’s son said he died in his sleep. They reach the house, but stop for a moment. Hannah asks if Ephram’s okay. Ephram’s fine, but thoughtful. “I mean, this guy changed my life, not just the way I play piano, but, uh, the way I thought about it.” They start to head up the steps to the house, while Ephram continues. “I wish you guys could’ve seen the look on his face when he was listening to a piece that he loved. It’s like he was in a completely different world. I’ve never seen anybody that could be so happy just by putting on a record.” Hannah gives Ephram a long, rather intrigued, sidelong glance. (Oh, lost friendship opportunities of Season 5! Curse you, Ostroff.) The trio stops at the door. Bright asks if Ephram’s sure he wants to go in, and that the family would understand if he wasn’t ready. Ephram’s sure, since he wants to say goodbye to Will, but adds that the man had few friends, so they’ll probably just go in to pay their respects and then leave. Bright and Hannah both encourage him to take his time. Hannah adds that they’re there for him. They go in, and discover a veritable Mardi Gras celebration. Jazz music plays in the background; dozens of people talk and laugh and dance. Ephram looks confused. Hannah and Bright realize that they’re going to be there longer than they thought.

Brown kitchen. Edna thanks Andy for letting her stay. Andy was happy to oblige, and offers her a cup of coffee, which she gladly accepts. Andy brings up the previous night, saying that he’s still trying to determine what brought on her– Edna tells him not to say “panic attack.” Andy takes a moment to find a new phrasing. “Okay, what might have brought on that period of time when you got really dizzy and almost passed out in my living room.” Edna’s okay with this one, and says that it all just came out of nowhere. Andy asks what she was thinking about before it happened. Edna turns the tables on him, responding that she was thinking about his screwed-up relationship with Delia. Andy pointedly asks “After that,” and says that whatever’s causing her..."episodes, periods, whatever; they’re going to keep happening until we figure out what’s triggering them. And if it’s not physiological...” Edna tells him not to say “psychological.” Andy suggests that she give him a list of words to avoid, and insists that he’s really worried about her. “And you can’t control my worry, lady. I own my worry.” He sits next to her at the counter and asks her to “give it up.” Edna replies that she wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, beyond the prospect of going home to an empty, Irv-less house. Andy observes that she misses him. Edna does, of course, but declares that “people don’t get rushed to a hospital because they miss someone.” Andy thinks she shouldn’t “underestimate the power of an empty house,” noting that with Ephram living elsewhere and Delia spending more time with friends, he often feels like he lives alone. Edna asserts that she did live alone, when she and Irv were separated, and it was awful but nothing like what she’s experiencing now. Andy asks how it was different. Edna explains that she at least knew that Irv was suffering, too. “But now, when he’s having the time of his life...everytime I talk to him on the phone, he’s so damn happy I want to break his neck.” Andy asks if it’s because Irv’s happy, but Edna says it’s not that; it’s because she’s not a part of it. “Maybe he doesn’t need me as much as I thought he did. Maybe he’s not even planning to come back.” Andy thinks this is “crazy” and that she needs to talk to him. Edna insists that she can’t, because if she did, he’d end the tour just to make her happy, which wouldn’t be fair. “I just have to wait out this book hullabaloo and see what happens to us.” A car horn honks, suddenly, and Delia enters. Andy says good morning and tells her to wait while he makes lunch, but she says she’ll just buy it, and hurriedly exits. Andy turns back to Edna, and sadly observes that if he’s “not losing one, it’s the other.” But hey! That means someone will also be found, if the episode title is to be believed! Edna gently suggests that he “loosen the reins a little, let her grow up. You wouldn’t want her not to. She’ll come back to you.” Andy says that he’ll hold Edna to that. Edna chuckles and Andy smiles, and happiness has been restored, probably because Delia’s demonic specter is currently hanging out in someone’s car.

Planned Parenthood. Prof. Laurie’s giving Amy the grand tour of the office, exam rooms, and clinician’s station. Amy remarks that she wished she had known about it back when she went on birth control, instead of having to see Andy about it. Prof. Laurie explains that most of the patients come in for things like routine exams and birth control, and only rarely for abortions, which is news to Amy. Amy suddenly looks wistful, prompting Prof. Laurie to ask if she’s all right. Amy lies that she is, but Prof. Laurie urges her to tell her what’s going on. Amy admits that she had been trying to find ways to keep her mind off Ephram, “but this is so real.” Prof. Laurie says that if working at Planned Parenthood doesn’t feel right, there are other places she could volunteer. Amy continues to look wistful.

Will’s wake. Hannah and Bright are sitting on a couch. Hannah is sad. Bright is eating. Bright, observing her expression, tells her that she doesn’t have to act sad, since she didn’t even know Will. Hannah, amused, says that she’s not pretending to mourn. “Who does that?” Bright: “I don’t know. Polite people?” Hannah gives him a look, then explains that the source of her distress is Amy, that things feel “off” and they’re no longer spending much time together. Bright says that they saw each other the day before, but Hannah thinks it was “weird,” though maybe that was because you both suddenly felt compelled to shout the praises of a particular make and model of car. But, actually, Hannah feels like she’s losing Amy. Bright, again in the relationship guru mode we saw last episode, says that if she feels like she and Amy haven’t talked, then Hannah should start the talking. “You never let me get off the hook when I’m spacing out on us, you shouldn’t let her do it, either.” Hannah gives him a pathetic look and remarks that “You think I’m a ball buster, huh?” Bright: “If you can’t even say ‘ball buster’ without blushing, then you’re probably not, but you are very, very cute.” They kiss, because, heck, it’s already the world’s happiest wake, so why not.

In another part of the room, Will’s son, whom someone calls 'James,' is telling Ephram a story about Will’s disgust with his playing the guitar. Ephram jokes that he’s surprised Will didn’t disown him. James laughs, and remembers that he has something to give Ephram. He hands him a stack of Art Tatum records. “He said they’d mean something to you.” Ephram is visibly moved, and thanks him. Ephram says he has to leave, but James isn’t letting him go until he plays something for them. “All my dad ever said about you is what a genius you are, how you, uh...well, how you play like an angel come down to earth.” Ephram hastily replies that he doesn’t play anymore, but James interprets this as false modesty, and announces to the whole room that Ephram Brown, his “dad’s prized pupil,” needs some convincing to play. Everyone applauds, including Hannah and Bright, who cheers him on. Ephram kind of looks like he wants to kill them. But, he doesn’t have much choice, and says that he’ll play something of Will’s: “Bella Ray.” He sits at the piano and starts to play. Bright and Hannah stand. James looks thoughtful. Ephram is intense. Bright and Hannah are particularly enjoying the performance, Hannah especially, and I’m wondering if she’s heard him play before? I mean, she was there for S3, but I don’t remember him ever really performing around anyone but Amy. We return to Ephram, who is just about the happiest he’s been all season. It is absolutely lovely. I’m actually tearing up, which is a rare event indeed. The sheer joy he’s evincing here is what makes Ephram/piano possibly my favorite long-term storyline. I’m always attracted to the theme of “finding/pursuing one’s calling,” but this show really did it exceptionally well. Love, love, love.

Several hours seem to have passed, at it’s now bedtime for Harold and Rose. Rose observes that he was quiet at dinner, and asks if he has anything he wants to talk about now, or later. Harold says that “it’s a lot to take in.” Rose agrees, remarking on how much Madeleine surprised her. Harold thinks that’s an understatement. Rose continues that they’ve been a bit naive about things like the medical issues, even though they knew it could be a concern. Harold’s surprised, however, by the extent of it. “Not knowing any of the child’s medical history, even how old he or she is? How would we handle such a thing? I haven’t the faintest idea.” Neither does Rose, who keeps remembering how much they knew of Amy and Bright’s personalities, let alone medical records, when they were less than a year old. Harold agrees that the first two years are critical. Rose notes that they could just wait for the right child, a toddler rather than a six-year-old. Harold doesn’t know what he was thinking, “fantasizing about holding a newborn, trying out new swaddling techniques. It just seems so absurd now.” Rose suspects that he’s “rewriting history,” and asks, “Remember how many times we said we wished Amy had arrived already 1?” So Amy was a high-maintenance infant. I’m remarkably unsurprised. Harold remembers. “I spent all these years boasting about my parenting skills, brimming with hubris, and now it finally dawns on me: what credentials do I think that I have that any father of two doesn’t have?” Rose assures him that he doesn’t need any credentials beyond being a wonderful father. But Harold is unconvinced; he doesn’t want to disappoint Rose, but doesn’t think he can go through with it. Rose is upset.

Apartment; close-up on an extension cord, attached to nothing. Ephram and Reid are studying. Bright enters and realizes, with horror, that “She’s gone.” Reid asks who; Bright, of course, means Ms. Pac-Man, and asks what happened. “Was there a break-in? Do you want me to call 911?” Ephram casually replies that he sold it. Bright looks utterly betrayed and asks how Ephram could do that. I think Bright would actually be less upset if someone sold Hannah. Ephram, not looking up from his philosophy textbook, shrugs that he needed the money. Bright wonders why he couldn’t have just donated some blood. Reid, for one, is thrilled, as the evil temptress was “killing [his] GPA.” Ephram nods in agreement. Bright cannot fathom what could possibly be more important than Ms. Pac-Man. Ephram says that there was “just something I needed.” Bright gapes at him for another few moments, then grimly shakes his head. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” Ephram announces that he’s going to the library to work on his Constitution paper, and Reid decides to join him, leaving Bright to grieve alone. He sadly observes that he never even had a chance to say goodbye.

Edna and Irv’s kitchen. Edna’s peeling the plastic from another frozen dinner. Irv suddenly walks through the backdoor and declares that “something smells awful.” Edna is stunned, as she wasn’t expecting to see Irv for another two weeks. Irv says she wasn’t going to, originally. Edna asks why “they” cut the tour short. Irv explains that they didn’t; he did. Edna wonders why he would do something like that. Irv, as it happens, missed her too much. Edna is pleased. Irv continues that the publishers were angry, but he just couldn’t get comfortable in the hotel beds. “I missed my spoon.” Edna admits that she missed him, too, and they happily embrace. “Got so bad I had to go to Andy’s for dinner. Boy, that place is a nuthouse.” Truer words were never spoken. They pull apart, and Irv says there’s just one thing; he has to spend six days next week in Chicago. Edna’s okay with that, but Irv adds that she’ll be going with him, and he doesn’t want any excuses. Edna offers none, and they hug again.

Amy and Hannah on the Everwood sidewalk. Amy’s talking about seeing some troubled girl at Planned Parenthood; Hannah remarks that it must have been “horrible” but Amy says it was actually “eye-opening.” Hannah thinks it’s good that Amy tried it, at least, because now she knows working there would make her uncomfortable. Amy, however, plans to work through the discomfort, because it’s “interesting and important” and “helps so many people,” and again pushes Hannah to join her. Amy’s awfully dense. Hannah finally snaps, replying that “I'm not going to work in an organization that I don’t even fully support, Amy.” And she really does say Amy’s name just like that! Amy actually asks “Seriously?” because Amy evidently assumes that everyone shares her value system. Hannah doesn’t like their endorsement of birth control, mentioning that abstinence is an option. Amy says they teach that, too, but Hannah remarks that they’d still be willing to give a 14-year-old girl birth control if she wanted it. Amy condescendingly replies that “obviously” she agrees 14 is young, but that the girl should be protected if she’s going to have sex anyway. Hannah thinks it’s a mixed message, basically encouraging kids to have sex. “And then if they do get pregnant, well, they can just fix that too.” Whoa! I’m thinking Hannah didn’t plan to go there, but looks like Amy’s touched a nerve. Amy asks if Hannah means what she thinks she means by “fix that,” but Hannah wants to end the conversation that she never wanted to have in the first place. Amy’s not letting this go, though, and asks if Hannah’s saying that she’s pro-... Okay, I’m sorry, but I am astonished that this never occurred to Amy before. Seriously, has she ever met Hannah? Hannah forcefully declares that she wants to drop the subject, now. They walk in silence for a few seconds before Amy mutters “Wow,” also condescendingly. More silence, then Hannah suggests they talk about something else. Unfortunately, Hannah’s idea of a fun new topic is whether or not Amy’s talked to Ephram recently. Good call, Han. Amy, sick of the subject, has not; Hannah persists, asking if they’re not talking anymore. Amy reminds Hannah that since she told him she didn’t want to get back together, he probably doesn’t want to see her. Hannah says “But eventually...” which also is not what Amy wants to hear. Hannah wonders again if reuniting with Ephram would be a bad thing, since Amy’s always been happier with him than without. Amy’s turn to snap: “Ephram and I are not getting back together, I know we’re not going to have a double wedding with you and Bright, and guess what? Maybe you and Bright won’t even get married.” Hannah would prefer that Amy not attack her relationship with Bright just because she’s unhappy. Amy insists that that’s not what she’s doing, and that she’s not unhappy just because she’s not with Ephram. Hannah notes that “happy people aren’t usually this defensive.” Amy slowly, sadly shakes her head, muttering “Oh my God.” Then: “Hannah. It’s like you have this idea that you and Bright and Ephram and I are the Four Musketeers or something, but the world is a little bit bigger than that, and you meet new people, experience new things.” Hannah somehow manages not to deck Amy, but only reminds her, testily, that she’s the one who told Amy all that in the first place. Amy says that what’s really making her “unhappy” is “this,” so she’ll just call Hannah later. She stalks off, leaving Hannah angry and alone.

Harold is sitting before the fireplace, pondering something. Rose enters and asks if she may join him, which she may. She announces that during an internet search, she came across a profile of a child with difficulties, and thought they should look it over together to determine if they could handle it. Harold gives her the go-ahead. Rose begins: “So this girl has a history of mental illness on her mother’s side of the family, and the girl herself was eventually diagnosed with depression and became a runaway. She wound up taking drugs and has shown signs of borderline obsessive-compulsive disorder [*snerk*].” Harold thinks Rose has just proven his point, and that he wouldn’t know how to handle any of that, but Rose points out what many viewers have probably already figured out: he already has handled it, because the girl is Amy. Harold calls Rose a “clever little wench,” but notes that she exaggerated some details, such as Amy’s one foray into narcotics and her stint living with Edna and Irv. Rose admits that she took some poetic license, but says that they also dealt with thinking Bright was dyslexic back in elementary school. Harold remembers. “We were searching desperately for any excuse for his grades. Never did find one.” Hey! He made a B+ in American Studies! That’s practically an A! Rose recalls some of his other high points, remarking that “he grew up to be an underage drunk driver...sued for sexual harrassment.” Harold argues that she’s making things sound worse than they were, and I frankly have to agree, but Rose says that it’s all true. “If we had to list all our children’s problems on paper, no one would want them.” Harold, looking over the paper again, thinks that’s “abundantly clear.” Rose promises that she’s not trying to pressure him, and she’ll understand if he decides he doesn’t want to do it. Harold is relieved, and Rose continues that she wants him to be happy, and that’s what the point of the adoption was in the first place; “I just feel that we can do anything as long as we’re together.” Harold doesn’t know what he did to deserve Rose. Rose thinks he’s lucky that they promised “‘til death do us part,” so he’s got her for life.

Oh, good, Delia again. She’s in her room, at work on her computer. Andy comes in. Delia brusquely says she can’t talk to him right now; Andy says she doesn’t have to. He admits that he’s been “crowding” her, but also says that her silent treatment doesn’t help him figure out what’s wrong. She remains silent. He announces that he’s letting her go on the ski trip, but Delia says it’s too late, because Brittany already invited Thalia. Andy is sorry, and asks if there’s anything he can do. No response. So he asks how many times he has to apologize for reading her email. But Delia’s no longer upset about that, nor does she care about the ski trip, since she can’t ski and Brittany would have made fun of her for that. Andy is sure that’s not true, but Delia shakes her head and says he doesn’t know Brittany. Andy begins to make the reasonable point that maybe Delia shouldn’t be friends with people who would do that, but Delia cuts him off, saying that “it’s not that,” either. Andy goes on about how Brittany’s not a bad person, but it’s hard to hang out with a new group of friends, especially if they’re popular. Delia tries to interrupt again, but he continues, telling her to just be herself. Delia asks him to stop. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but you’re not helping. You just don’t get it, and I can’t explain it to you. I just want to be alone right now. I’m not mad at you, I just want to be alone.” Andy leaves, humbled by his inability to deal with the social struggles of an 11-year-old girl. Delia starts to cry, a little.

Amy’s filing things at Planned Parenthood. Prof. Laurie pops in to ask how everything’s going; Amy says it’s fine, but it would be easier if patients’ records were computerized. Prof. Laurie reminds her that it’s a non-profit. “Low-tech and even lower pay.” They both laugh, and Prof. Laurie tells her to yell if she has any questions. Amy picks up a box filled with files; one folder falls off the top and Amy stoops to retrieve it. As she’s doing so, she glances down at the patient consent form inside, describing an abortion D&C performed by one Harold Abbott, Jr. This is going to be good.

Andy enters the...wait, huh? Where did he go after his talk with Delia? Okay, well, he’s returning to the house and is greeted by the surprising sounds of someone playing a piano in the living room. Ephram stops, and says that he hopes Andy doesn’t mind; there was just no room for it in the crawl space. Andy thinks it looks good. “Saves me from buying a ficus or something.” He asks where Ephram got it. Ephram explains that he “had some extra cash lying around and figured I should get something that made me happy.” *sniffle* Andy smiles a little, but didn't think that Ephram was still playing. Ephram says he wasn’t, and doesn’t offer much more until Andy smiles at him for a few more seconds. He then brings up Will’s death and his visit to his family’s house. Andy is sorry, since he knew how much Will meant to Ephram. Ephram thinks “it’s funny. Even though he’s gone, he’s still bringing me back to the piano. I swear to God, that guy is relentless.” Switching subjects a little, Ephram says that he’s taking requests. Andy would like to hear more of the song Ephram had been playing [Chopin’s “Raindrop Prelude”]. Ephram starts to turn back around, but stops to asks if it’s “cool if I’ll be around a little bit more? I need to sort of brush up on my piano. Gettin’ a little rusty.” Andy says he can come over anytime he wants. See, Andy? Lose a Delia, find an Ephram. It all works out in the end. Ephram resumes playing, with Andy listening and watching intently, and once again, the camera pulls back into a shot reminiscent of the Pilot, with Andy and a piano-playing Ephram framed by a window. *sob of joy*

Next time: Harold and Amy participate in a showdown of terrific acting; Ephram realizes the true reason for his over-investment in Kyle; and some stuff happens with Jake's recovery.