An Ounce of Prevention

Hey, it’s two people and a place we didn’t see last week: Bright and Hannah in the apartment, playing cards and listening to Belle and Sebastian's "For the Price of a Cup of Tea." Wherever they were during the last episode, they must have spent the entire time together, as Bright’s habit of drumming his fingers against his cards is driving Hannah up the wall. He says he’s thinking; she snappishly asks if he has to “think with [his] fingers.” After a good deal of thinking, Bright finally selects a card to discard, which Hannah immediately picks up. He calls her a “jacks whore.” I missed him so. She protests that it’s only the third one she’s taken. “Learn the game, buddy.” Ephram comes down from his crawl space, and Hannah asks if the music was too loud. Ephram says that no, actually, he’s up and late for something. Bright warns Hannah not to put down any sevens. “I am all over the sevens, chica.” Hannah looks bored, though I’d rather watch five hours of this than an episode that focused exclusively on Jake and Nina discussing his recovery. Ephram asks if anyone’s seen his sheet music, as he has two new students. Reid suddenly appears. Bright suggests that Ephram check the coffee table, and adds that, if said sheet music is there, Bright may have left a sandwich on top of it. Reid, sounding panicked, asks if anyone has hair gel. In an indication of the newfound harmony in their relationship, Ephram says he has some. Reid is very thankful and literally runs to the crawl space. Ephram discovers his sheet music precisely where Bright suggested it might be, and it is, indeed, directly underneath a sandwich, because apparently when they sprang for that new set of bowls, they couldn’t afford plates or napkins. Meanwhile, Bright reminds Hannah that he told her not to play the seven, which Hannah sing-songs is exactly why she played it. Because the apartment isn’t crowded enough yet, Amy enters, calling out to Reid that she’s been honking the car horn for the last ten minutes. Ephram retrieves his sheet music – not even touching the sandwich itself in the process, heh – which is now covered in what appears to be grape jelly. Reid, from the crawl space, informs Amy that he’s “having some hair issues,” which he demonstrates by running his hands through and pulling at his hair in a way that looks kind of painful. Amy: “It’s a good thing we didn’t date for real, because I cannot be with a man who spends more time on his hair than I do.” She notices Hannah, and asks what she’s doing there on a school day. Hannah explains that it’s a teacher’s day, and adds that Bright’s taken the day off from school to hang out with her. She seems less than thrilled about this. Bright, however, says that’s the “great thing about college: no one to mark your absence, no readmit slip.” Heh, he would've received a lot of calls from professors if he'd attended my old, tiny university. Amy: “There is no way you’re gonna graduate in less than seven years.” Hannah asks Amy when her last class ends, and suggests that they all do something together. Amy looks tense. Hannah goes on to ask Ephram (of course) what his plans are, and says that maybe they could all make pizza again. Ephram can’t, as he has to pick up Kyle, while Amy has several sections and lectures and lunch, oh my! She also mentions that Bill O’Reilly is speaking at A&M, and invites anyone interested to a demonstration. Hannah actually finds it necessary to ask “what kind of demonstration,” though maybe she’s just wondering on what other points she and Amy might disagree. Amy says it’s a protest, because he’s “a total warmonger.” Hannah and Bright decline the invitation. Reid is now playing with his hair while using the toaster as a mirror, and Amy wonders if he’d rather have good hair or save lives. Apparently the former, since he goes on to complain about the front part of his hair while continuing to hold the toaster before him. While all this is happening, Ephram takes two Pop-Tarts from said toaster. Reid finally sets down his impromptu mirror and leaves with Amy. Ephram follows soon after and, on his way out, tells Bright that they’re out of milk and that he might want to pick some up [time for a trip to the Abbott house, I guess!]. Bright and Hannah are alone again. Hannah comments on how busy everyone else seems to be. Bright, with his mouth full of food of some sort, thinks that they’re busy, too. Hannah refutes this, calling what they’re doing “the art of time wasting.” Bright: “At least you admit that it’s an art.” It’s not really the time for quips, judging from Hannah’s look of exasperation. Bright asks what’s wrong. Hannah, being Hannah, replies that it’s “nothing,” and adds that it’s his turn. She stares at him for a moment as he continues chewing enthusiastically, and then looks away despairingly. It’s okay; Bright’s eating habits have that effect on many.

A preppy-looking teenage girl is sitting in Andy’s office, showing him a very well-organized binder which includes her complete medical history, a report from a genetic counselor, and a consent form. She also mentions that she just turned 18, which is why she can have as much say in all this as she has here. Andy is very impressed, though adds, “I don’t know many high school seniors who consider a blood test much of a birthday present.” His patient replies that she just wants “peace of mind.” Andy gives her a name, addressing her as 'Ellie,' and tells her that screening for the breast cancer gene is a big deal for anyone, let alone a teenager. Ellie replies that she knows this, but has already talked to lots of people and researched all the risks and benefits, and is “confident” about her decision. Andy then asks why she wants to have the screening. Ellie has a few decent reasons: her mother died from breast cancer when Ellie was ten; her older sister was diagnosed with it at the age of 28, and had to go through chemo and a double mastectomy; and there’s even a history of it on her father’s side. Andy decides that he “understand[s] the ‘why’ now.” He asks if she’s discussed it with her father. Ellie cryptically replies that her father “hasn’t been the same” since her mother’s death, and that her sister Ruthie was essentially the one who raised her. “She is so amazing. Like, the definition of a survivor.” Ellie hopes that, if she does develop cancer, she copes with as much “grace and strength” as her sister did. Andy asks if she knows about it, which Ellie confirms that she does; she also says that ‘Mitchell’ was supposed to come to the appointment with her, but practice for some sport interfered. Off Andy’s question, she clarifies that Mitchell is her “very supportive” boyfriend, and has been since sophomore year, and that they even both plan to attend UNC the following year. Ellie notes that the scholarship application process was actually what “cemented things” for her. “It’s all about organization and planning, and it made me realize how unprepared my mother and sister were for cancer.” Andy considers this, as Ellie concludes that she doesn’t want the same thing to happen to her. “If I have the gene, I want to know now, so I can be ready. Mitchell says the best defense is a good offense.” Andy smiles, while Ellie points in the direction of the exam room and asks if she’s supposed to go there. Andy confirms this. While he gets the nurse, Ellie sits on the exam table and rolls up her sleeves, still completely prepared for anything and everything.

Ephram is trudging through snow to get to Kyle’s school. SNOW! So much of it! So pretty! Sorry, I currently live in a snow-free climate. Gosh, this show made some gorgeous use of filming almost on location. Anyway, Ephram enters the building and spots Kyle talking to a girl who’s flirtatiously playing with her hair. Ephram smiles a little, then looks a bit concerned as he notices Kyle’s discomfort at being touched by Twirly-Hair Girl. Kyle sees Ephram and makes a quick getaway. As they begin their walk to Ephram’s car, Kyle orders him not to look, but Ephram ignores this and asks if the girl just invited Kyle to the upcoming school dance. Kyle bars him from talking, too, but this doesn’t stop Ephram from observing that “the hair-pulling thing was a little OCD, but she’s pretty cute.” He asks who she is, and Kyle says she’s “Kelly Morgan: Drama Club, girls’ lacrosse, and locker stalker.” Ephram thinks it’s “nice” that she was inviting Kyle, but Kyle says he won’t be saying yes, as “dances are lame.” Ephram doesn’t think this is the case if you’re going with someone like Kelly, but Kyle insists that he’s not interested in her and doesn’t want to go, as “it’s a total waste of time.” Ephram goes for either the empathy or reverse psychology angle – hard to say which – as he remarks that “I sometimes think dances were created just to make people like you and me miserable, plus they’ll probably have some lame DJ...” Kyle concludes that “I’ll end up standing around talking to people I hate anyway.” He declares that he can’t wait to finish high school so he never has to deal with another prom. Ephram: “Ah, just so you know, New Year’s Eve is pretty much prom for adults. It never really goes away.” Heh. Kyle thinks this is just wonderful, and Ephram continues that a person should never have to go to any of these events that require a date, unless there’s someone one is “dying to ask.” Kyle, for his part, is “dying for [Ephram] to drop it.” Ephram is puzzled by Kyle’s genuine anger regarding this subject, and merely gets in the car.

Exterior shot of what appears to be a burger place called ‘Ab’s.’ Inside, Bright and Hannah are playing cards, again. They might consider looking into board games. Bright is yawning. Hannah watches him and asks, somewhat tensely, if he’s bored. He denies this, claiming that he didn’t get much sleep as “Reid was up ‘til 3 in the morning doing crunches.” Aerobic!Reid is so much more amusing than MedStudent!Reid. Hannah suddenly announces that the previous week marked their seven-month anniversary. Bright worries that this means he was supposed to get her something. Hannah says he wasn't, and that she was thinking more about the number. “Seven. As in, the seven-year itch?” Bright smirks knowingly at first, but they soon both shake their heads and he admits he has no idea what she means. “Sounds like a long time to be scratching" [foreshadowing!]. Hannah says that she thinks they’re in a rut. “Like we’ve reached this plateau, we’ve been through all of the bumps and hard stuff in our relationship. And now the only thing left to do is to break up or get married.” Bright, fully awake now, gives her an “Oh, dude!” Hee. Hannah hastens to assure him that she’s not saying one of those things will happen that day, but that she’s worried, and notes that they’re there “doing the same thing [they] always do.” Bright insists, kind of sadly, that they “like playing cards.” Hannah concedes this, but wonders when was the last time they “did something new and exciting.” Bright protests that they do things all the time, like go to the movies, watch TV, and play cards. Hannah makes a face that indicates Bright's just proven her point, while he continues that he doesn’t know she wants him to do. “It’s not like I can afford to buy a jet and fly us to Paris.” Hannah wonders what would be new, but affordable. Bright suggests deer-hunting. Whoo! Hannah looks at him like he’s crazy, which he basically is, and says she’ll try to come up with something better than that. Bright, who has just taken a big bite of hamburger, sarcastically says (in a truly repulsive way, because I never, ever want to see that much partially-chewed hamburger again, and not just because I’m a vegetarian), “Good luck.” They seal their agreement with a frankly adorable fist-bump, in which Hannah apparently participates a little too enthusiastically, as Bright seems to be in pain afterwards.

Reid’s playing Mad Scientist in the apartment kitchen. Ephram enters, and, upon noticing Reid’s experimentation, remarks that he’ll pass on dinner. Reid explains that he’s reviewing basic lab procedure, and shows us, in a close-up, onion DNA. Everwood: entertainment and education! Ephram doesn’t care, however, and says as much. Reid remembers that someone left Ephram a message; the someone, unsurprisingly, is Kyle, saying that he wants to move his next lesson up by a half-hour. Ephram muses on what a “funny kid” he is. “He’s scared of his own shadow, but you get the feeling that if you said the wrong thing, he’d gut you like a fish.” Reid asks Ephram if he thinks he’ll get into Juilliard; Ephram doesn’t know, but does mention that all Kyle does is practice. Reid asks if that isn’t what Ephram was like, but Ephram says it was only because he had no other option. “I was a dork by necessity.” Reid thinks this is “true of all dorks,” but Ephram has his doubts now, after having witnessed Kyle’s dismissal of Kelly. Reid finds this a little strange, and asks if she was “cute.” Ephram confirms that she was, and that he himself would have “killed to have a girl like that” into him when he was Kyle’s age. Ephram concludes that Kyle must just not be interested in girls yet. Oh, Ephram. Reid finds this strange, too, given Kyle’s age and the accompanying raging hormones. But Ephram insists it’s true, because Kyle’s never talked about girls in the whole time they’ve known each other. Realization dawns upon Reid, who suggests that Kyle might not have crushes on girls. Ephram asks, skeptically, if Reid really thinks Kyle’s gay. Reid thinks it’s possible. Ephram vehemently denies this, as Kyle’s “too young to be gay.” Reid brings up the possibility of sexuality being encoded in one’s DNA, as well as the fact that “kids are figuring themselves out a lot younger these days.” Ephram is increasingly defensive, and retorts that Kyle’s never even kissed a girl, and, given that, how does he know he wouldn’t like it? Reid: “Why? Did you have to kiss a guy to figure out you were straight?” Ephram is silent, and Reid quickly adds that it was “just a thought” and he could be wrong. Ephram says emphatically that he is. As he gets up from the counter to head to his crawl space, he turns and declares that he’s not homophobic. “When you were gay? No big deal.” Hee! Reid wonders when he was gay. Ephram doesn’t tell him, but only continues that Kyle is “young, he’s socially inept, and–and he just doesn’t know how to handle himself in the dating scene yet.” Ephram decides that he needs to help Kyle through all this, since he doesn’t have anyone else, and that “pretty soon people like [Reid] are going to be spreading rumors saying that he’s gay just because he’s shy.” Reid seems mildly frightened by this point, but only replies that “you obviously know him a lot better than I do.” Ephram retorts that he does, and stomps off to his room. Reid shakes his head a bit.

Andy’s office. Ellie, accompanied this time by her sister, has just learned that she does, indeed, have the gene. Though Andy apologizes for having to deliver bad news, Ellie says it’s okay, and asks for a copy of the report, because “it’s important to keep good records.” Ruth looks at Andy a little pleadingly. Andy explains that carrying the gene doesn’t necessarily mean she will develop breast cancer, but that her chances of developing it are greater. Ellie, of course, has done all the research, and says that she has a 40-85% chance of becoming ill before age 40, and is also at greater risk for developing ovarian cancer. Ruth mutters that she shouldn’t have let Ellie take the test, and that she doesn’t want her to go through the same thing she did. Ellie doesn’t want that, either, which is why she was tested in the first place, since this way she can take preventative measures. Andy offers a few suggestions, such as diet and exercise, as well as a monthly self-examination. Ellie asks about tamoxifen, inspiring Ruth to give Andy another desperate look. Andy explains that it would never be prescribed to someone Ellie’s age. Ruth seems to appreciate this answer, and looks at Ellie again, who wonders if “that’s it? Seems like a lot of waiting around for something bad to happen.” Though, you’d think she might have realized this before having the test done. Ellie asks if Andy’s sure there are no other options, and, given all the research she had done prior to this, I sort of wonder if she was waiting for him to make the suggestion that he does. It’s a doozy: a preventative mastectomy, which will lower her chances of developing cancer to about ten percent. Ruth interjects a sharp, “I’m sorry?”, but Andy continues that by removing the breasts and underlying tissue, the cancer will have no place to grow. He further adds that it’s “radical,” but Ellie likes the sound of “ten percent,” and wonders how soon she can have the surgery. Ruth tries to slow her down, but Ellie insists that she wants something “aggressive” and doesn’t need breasts, “especially if they’re going to kill me!” Andy reminds her that death isn’t a sure thing, and Ruth agrees with this, but chastises Andy for getting them to the point of discussing radical surgery. She tells Ellie that she “won’t let [her] do that,” before thanking Andy and standing, expecting Ellie to follow. Ellie, however, remains seated, and forcefully says that she’s the patient and it’s her body, and she has the right to hear about this option. Ruth: “Well, I don’t have to hear about it.” She leaves. Andy seems to be lost in thought, but is roused from his reverie when Ellie asks how soon she can meet with an oncologist.

Andy and Harold are at Sam’s, going through patient files. Harold waxes rhapsodic about Blue Cross. Andy suddenly remembers to mention that he received a call from one Madeleine Barry, saying that Andy had been listed as a reference for the adoption process. Harold is ecstatic that she’s already contacted Andy. Andy is amused by Harold, observing that he’s “just bursting with baby glee.” Harold picks up Andy’s file on Ellie and asks if she’s a new patient. Andy explains that she came in for blood tests, and Harold notes the reference to the breast cancer gene, calling it a “shame” and asking how Ellie’s handling it. Andy casually replies that she’s considering a mastectomy. Harold finds this “rather extreme. Most girls her age are thinking about movie star break-ups and senior prom, not elective surgery.” Andy says that she’s different from most girls, given her high levels of maturity and intelligence. Except that when he says it, it doesn’t sound horribly sexist like it did when I just paraphrased it. Sorry about that. Harold thinks that Andy should advise her against the surgery, particularly given that she’s not sick. Andy argues that the surgery could prevent her from the strong likelihood of becoming sick. Harold, however, proposes another possibility: “she could remain perfectly healthy and be permanently scarred in the process.” Although, were that the case, she would probably attribute her health to the surgery, so would that even be an issue, really? I get what he means here, but it’s not as though she’d ever know what would have happened otherwise. Andy insists that all he did was present Ellie with all the options, and that it’s not his place to tell her what or what not to do. Harold wonders when he adopted this policy. “One minute you’re traipsing across town in the snow, convincing an 80-year-old man to have a brain operation. Now you’ve got an 18-year-old girl in front of you, who is making a rash decision based on fear. You won’t advise her against it? Makes no sense.” Especially not after the lesson Andy received from Cute Rabbi in the last episode! Andy merely orders Harold to move on to the next patient.

Ephram’s very heterosexual student is practicing on the piano in the Brown living room. Ephram is staring at the back of Kyle’s head, which Kyle can obviously sense, as he turns around and asks why Ephram is doing so. Ephram announces that he gave Kyle some bad advice, and declares that he should go to the dance, after all. Kyle asks why. Ephram, playing wise mentor figure again, says that it will be better than he thinks it will, and that if he doesn’t go he’ll build it up into something awful. Kyle assures him that he’s not afraid of dancing, but simply rejects it. Ephram: “Okay, well, are you sure you’re rejecting it, or you’re not afraid of it just rejecting you?” Uh. Kyle stares for a moment, and Ephram admits it was a “bad analogy.” He simplifies things, saying that he had fun at the few he went to in high school, and that Kyle would probably enjoy it, too. Kyle doesn’t consider Ephram’s experience particularly relevant, and wonders why Ephram suddenly cares so much. Ephram, who’s starting to sound like he’s working for the dance organization committee, says it could be a “life-changing experience,” and that if Kyle goes with Kelly, he could suddenly be popular and life would never be hard again! Kyle thinks it’s cooler to have turned her down. Ephram gets a little more serious in tone now, asking if there’s something Kyle’s not telling him. Kyle makes his big announcement: he hates hip-hop music. Ephram: “Okay, so, uh, don’t dance. Most people don’t. Just go and smoke cloves and stand in the corner. And talk to Kelly.” Kyle adds that his mother works then, so wouldn’t be available for transportation. Which is, of course, totally the wrong excuse to use with the person who’s been playing chauffeur for however many weeks by this point. Kyle further adds that Kelly probably has a date already. Ephram declares that “there’s only one way to find out,” and tosses Kyle the phone, and dude, lay off the kid already! Seriously. Kyle gapes at Ephram, who stares back at him, looking dead serious.

Harold and Rose are exuberantly working on adoption forms, of which there are very, very many. Harold refers to the massive folders as “daunting,” but Rose has worked out a system, and hands him a pile of green folders that contain the international forms. Harold suggests that it might cost less to hand-deliver the forms to Kenya themselves. Rose argues that a few hours of paperwork is preferable to ten months of pregnancy. Harold: “For you, maybe.” Heh. Rose hands him a stack of red folders, which have been designated for the medical histories, and asks him to fill them out since he has the records. Harold grimly says he’ll handle it, since Rose has already done so much. Rose admits that the process isn’t much fun, but will be worth it when they have a baby. Harold, however, is not thinking about all the paperwork ahead of him, but about Ellie, though he’s not sure why. Rose thinks that her case is sad, though she admires Ellie’s decision, and calls her “a very brave girl.” Harold is surprised that Rose agrees with her. Yeah, Harold, get into this argument with the woman who just survived cancer. Good call. Rose tells Harold to put himself in Ellie’s place, as she’s already seen her mother die and her sister endure surgery and countless treatments. “Now she’s going to sit around waiting for the same thing to happen to her?” Harold argues that it’s not “preordained. Because there are odds against her, that also means there are odds in her favor.” Rose, however, points out that those odds “are never the ones that come to mind when you’re the potential statistic.” Harold considers this, while Rose suddenly announces that she’s going to the store, and leaves. Harold reads over the top medical form and carefully examines the first question: “Does the patient have any history of cancer or heart disease?” Harold thinks for a second before writing, in big, bold letters, “No.” More LIES! He’s full of them lately! Oh, Harold. No good will come of this. Well, for the characters, I mean. In terms of the show itself, this sort of thing is fantastic. He sighs and closes the folder, probably contemplating how many episodes he has before everything goes horribly, inevitably wrong as a result of this.

Hannah and Bright are having a luau on the roof of the snow-covered apartment building, because Hannah has lost her freaking mind. Bright expresses his sarcastic pleasure that Hannah made mahi-mahi in the middle of winter, and suggests that they maybe eat dessert inside. Hannah insists that they can’t eat inside, since that’s “where the rut lives.” Bright counters that “outside is where hypothermia lives.” Hannah, who, it should be noted, is appropriately attired for the festivities: “I think I’d look a little stupid walking around the apartment with a pineapple on my head!” Pineapple! Okay, I resisted saying anything before, but between this and the fist-bump...the creators of Psych totally must've been Bright and Hannah fans. Bright says something that is true, but also completely wrong, if he knows what’s good for him: “Really? I’d think you’d feel a little stupid walking around with a pineapple on your head no matter where you were!” Hannah gives him a “thanks,” and Bright replies that he’s just kidding. He asks if she’s really not cold. She insists that she’s quite warm, actually, and suggests that he stand with her in front of the hibachi. He does so, and hugs her in a desperate attempt to generate warmth; in the process, he observes that her heart is racing. She pushes him aside in order to take off her coat and start fanning herself. Bright notes that she’s looking flushed, “or, actually...make that splotchy?” Hannah is indeed splotchy, and is horrified to hear it, especially when he says it’s on her face, too. She admits that she had been feeling “gross” for a while, “but we were having so much fun...” Bright: “Yeah, wouldn’t want to tear us away from this.” Hannah says that she’s feeling “a little dizzy” and demonstrates this by collapsing a bit. Bright catches her and asks if he should call Harold. Hannah is firm in her declaration that he should not, and says she just needs to sit, though once she does so, she suddenly looks ill and covers her mouth. Bright: “You know what, I’m going to go ahead and call this one, because you look like you’re about to explode all over the hibachi.” He tells her they’re going inside, but Hannah, now scratching like mad, yells that they “do NOT have to go inside right now!” She then notices that Bright – who has also been scratching – is looking splotchy himself. Bright deems this “awesome.” Hannah looks sick again, and Bright finally manages to get her moving.

Doctors’ office. Andy is preparing to leave for the night, when Ruth appears, and tells him that she hopes he’s proud of himself, because Ellie and her boyfriend fought and broke up after she scheduled the mastectomy, leaving her to spend the day crying in her room. Andy asserts that it was his obligation as a doctor to inform Ellie of all her options. Ruth, however, “doesn’t give a crap about [Andy’s] obligation,” as doctors never seem to consider the long-term implications for their patients. “They swoop in, deliver their words of wisdom, and leave us to deal with the fallout.” Andy admits that she’s right, and that he erred in not advising Ellie against the procedure. Ruth wonders, then, why he even raised it as a possibility in the first place. Evidently, just about every Brown-related storyline this season can be traced back to Babygate: “Because the last time a young woman came to me for help, I screwed things up by trying to control the situation. I withheld information, and tried to manipulate the outcome to get what I wanted.” He tried to do the exact opposite this time, by telling Ellie everything and not “inserting [him]self into the process.” Ruth asks, however, if he isn’t paid to do just that. Andy concedes that he is, but didn’t feel qualified to do so in this case, so intimidated was he by Ellie’s mad maturity and organizational skillz. Ruth: “Welcome to my life. I’ve been scared of her since she was in seventh grade.” Andy’s a little surprised to hear this, given how much Ellie seems to idolize Ruth. Ruth rolls her eyes at this, sardonically referring to herself as “the great cancer survivor,” whose scars Ellie views as a “badge of honor,” though Ruth herself sees them as an ever-present nightmare. “I actually thought about getting implants last year, but I knew Ellie thought it would be a betrayal to the cause. Luckily, I couldn’t afford them, so I didn’t have to disappoint her with my breast treason.” Andy guesses that it must be difficult to be put on a pedestal like that. Ruth’s main concern, though, is that she doesn’t want Ellie to have her life, to have to experience all the physical pain and social discomfort she’s had to endure. “I want her to be a kid, just a little while longer. To go to college, maybe get married someday. To be able to nurse her baby, if she has one. But you can’t stop cancer, can you?” Andy agrees that you can’t. “Not any more than you can stop Ellie.” They both smile a little, though uneasily.

The luau disease fun has moved inside, and Harold’s joined the party. He notes that Hannah’s heart rate is still elevated, and examines the splotches on her arm, observing that they’re not raised, which may eliminate hives as a possibility. Hannah complains about the itching, so Bright offers a can of powder. Harold dismisses this treatment as “it’s not a diaper rash,” and takes a thermometer from Bright’s mouth. He takes note of his 101 degree temperature and starts walking around the living room, puzzled by what it all means. “Of course, three college-aged boys, in close quarters...could be any number of environmental irritants in here. This entire apartment is a biohazard.” He reaches the kitchen, and asks how long ago they ate. Hannah says it’s been an hour, but insists that it can’t be the food, as she’s a very good cook. While Harold holds up a piece of fish for inspection, Bright sarcastically suggests that maybe mahi-mahi isn’t supposed to be prepared “in the winter, on a roof. I don’t know.” Hannah indignantly replies that she was trying to save their relationship. Bright: “By getting us both sick! There’s a new plateau: dying! Huh, we can either break up, get married, or die? What do you think?” Hannah: “I think you should shut your pie-hole, Bright Abbott, or I’m gonna come over there and shut it for you.” This is a thing of beauty. Harold sits on the couch next to Hannah and peers at the laptop on the coffee table. Bright challenges “Splotchy” to “bring it on.” Hannah declares that he doesn’t care about their relationship, and would be content to just go on making her do all the work while he plays cards. Bright asks if she means “drag on. You mean draaag on, with me being normal and you creating problems that don’t exist–” Hannah interrupts him with an “Oh, whatever!” Bright starts making the universal “talking” hand gesture and continues that she talks, “and you talk, and talk, and talk, and talk. And you yammer! And yammer, yammer, yammer...” I just...I can’t even...I’m just not sure how many other characters and/or actors could make this much petty bickering so oddly charming. It’s a special kind of skill. Hannah exclaims that this is “very, very productive, Bright. So glad we’re having this conversation. I’m really glad that you’re such a mature human being!” while he continues to yell about her yammering. Harold finally shushes them and reads off a list of symptoms: “Flushing. Palpitations. Hives.” He pats Hannah’s leg and repeats that they are hives. He asks if they’re experiencing a burning sensation in the mouth, which both confirm they are. Harold’s getting very excited, and asks if there’s also cramping, which there is. Harold triumphantly declares that they have “an extremely rare food borne illness called scombroid.” Hannah raises an eyebrow at this. Harold manages to define it a little more disgustingly than the link does, describing it as being caused by “bacteria that grow in the rotted dark meat flesh—” He cruelly holds up the fish-laden fork to Hannah “—of improperly-stored fish.” Hannah makes a mad dash for the bathroom. Harold: “Yes. Yes, yes, yes! That would be the short-term nausea! And you can also expect diarrhea, sweetheart!” Harold turns back to the computer and marvels over how “thrilling” this all is for him. “Reminds me of my ER rotation – the immediacy, the improvisation.” Bright gives him a crazed look and throws his hands out in exasperation, presumably wondering if there’s a point to any of this. Which there is, and that point is to increase the awesomeness of the scene. Work with us here, Bright. Harold cheerfully continues that the symptoms should clear up in about 8-10 hours, “thanks to my timely diagnosis!” Bright asks if this really means he’ll be sick all night. Harold confirms this, and notes that they should call Nina, since Hannah can’t really go anywhere. He suddenly emits a very serious-sounding “Oh,” which is followed by: “I wonder if JAMA would find this interesting? Perhaps a few photographs.” He picks up a camera that's lying next to the computer, forces Bright to hold up the fork, directs him to “look ill,” and finally takes a picture of patient and bacteria-riddled fish. Now Bright’s sick, and makes his own trip to the bathroom. Harold surmises that his “work there is done.” He puts the camera in his bag and declares “To the pharmacy, Batman!” And off he goes...with his arms outstretched, in some mildly bizarre but very Haroldian attempt to resemble Batman, I guess. A more delightful capper to the scene, I can’t imagine.

Ephram pulls into the PCH parking lot, ready to pick up Kyle, who’s waiting outside the building. Kyle complains that he called Ephram an hour before; Ephram explains that he was at the movies, and adds that he wasn’t expecting to have to pick up Kyle until 11. He asks what happened and where Kelly is. Kyle dismissively replies that she’s inside, and insists that they just go. Ephram considers it more than a little inappropriate to leave without the date he brought, but Kyle declares that any of her “obnoxious friends” are perfectly capable of providing her a ride home. They reach the car, and Ephram again asks what happened. Kyle snits that fine, he’ll just walk home instead, and he marches off, with Ephram, still demanding to know what happened, in pursuit. Kyle lashes out at Ephram for making him go to the dance in the first place, and adds that it was even worse than he thought it would be. Ephram wants to know why. “Did she ditch you? Was she mean to you?” For Kyle, what actually transpired was far worse than that: “She got all drunk and wouldn’t stop grabbing at me. And then all her friends started laughing.” Ephram makes this a story about underage drinking, saying he relates to the difficulty of being the “only sober person at the party.” Kyle, though, would just really like Ephram to stop with the empathy already, because he doesn’t “get” Kyle. Ephram asks what it is that he doesn’t get. Kyle refuses to answer, and pleads for Ephram to take him home. Ephram finally relents, but realizes that there’s really no way around the issue now.

Ephram’s hanging out in the mall. Amy runs up to him, saying that she came as fast as she could and hopes everything’s okay. Ephram apologizes for dragging her away from her friends, but Amy doesn’t seem to mind too much, and asks what happened, noting that Ephram looks “awful.” He doesn’t, actually, because Gregory Smith and Emily Vancamp both look kind of fantastic in this scene. Nice work, hair and makeup people. But anyway, Ephram insists that he is “awful. I’m an awful person on the inside.” Amy assures him that he’s not, and asks again what’s going on. He admits that he thinks Kyle is gay. Amy’s not sure what the issue is, but adds that he seems “a little young.” Ephram agrees, and explains that he initially assumed Kyle was just “shy,” so he made him go to the dance. Amy guesses that he didn’t have much fun. Ephram thinks it’s “more like ‘emotionally scarred for life,’ thanks to me.” Amy is “sure [Ephram] didn’t force him,” but Ephram’s expression disabuses her of this notion. Amy asks, then, why Ephram was so interested in Kyle’s going. Ephram, a little defensively, replies that he doesn’t know, but guesses that he thought Kyle attending the dance would “make him more straight.” Ephram realizes how it sounds, and questions why he felt that way. “I’m from New York. I voted for Kerry.” Amy assures him that he’s not homophobic, but Ephram wonders if he maybe is. Amy suggests, as an alternative, that Ephram knew being gay would just make Kyle’s life more difficult, especially at County. Ephram ponders this, noting that “high school’s gonna be ten times harder” for him. Amy thinks it’s just hard to be different, in general, and that Ephram probably just wanted to “prevent him from going through anything harder than he had to.” Ephram agrees with this, adding that it’s “not fair” for Kyle to have one more thing that sets him apart. Amy says that it may not be fair, but there’s nothing Ephram can do about it. “You can’t prevent him from experiencing heartache or pain. He is who he is, and the more you try to turn him into something he’s not...” Ephram knows this, but wishes Kyle could talk about it, at least. Amy asks if he hasn’t come out, which Ephram confirms he hasn’t, and probably not even to himself. Ephram admits that he doesn’t know what to do. Amy urges him to “make it better,” to show Kyle that he’s there for him. “That’s the great thing about you, Ephram. You’re a good listener.” Ephram wonders how he’s supposed to listen if Kyle doesn’t want to talk. Amy rather unhelpfully tells him that he’ll “figure it out,” as he always does. Ephram stares back at her.

Andy walks through the pretty, pretty snow to a house and knocks on the door. Ruth answers and asks why he’s there. Andy informs her that he spoke with Jake, who agreed to waive his fee for a reconstructive surgery. Ruth wonders how he managed that; Andy explains that Harold is Jake’s landlord. Ruth thanks him, and asks if he’d like to talk with Ellie. Andy would, and follows her to Ellie’s room. Ellie is sitting on her bed, listening to what is probably depressing music on her iPod. She and Andy greet each other, and Andy asks how she is. Ellie: “My boyfriend broke up with me, I missed a test in AP English, and I’m probably going to have cancer, so, not great.” Andy says he’d like to talk with her for a minute, and explains that when he gave her the information the other day, he neglected to offer his opinion. Ellie assumes that he doesn’t think she should have the surgery. He doesn't, and is about to elaborate on why not, when she interjects that she's already decided against it. Andy: “You know, you’re kind of stealing my thunder here, Ellie.” Ellie doesn’t respond to his light tone, so he adds that it’s all right if she’s scared, since cancer is terrible. Ellie points out that she doesn’t have cancer, yet. Andy knows this, but Ellie continues that her break-up with Mitchell is the source of her distress. Andy wonders if they should bring Ruth in for this. Ellie laughs a little at his apparent discomfort. “No. Look, the fact that I’m upset over my stupid boyfriend breaking up with me over my stupid boobs is insane. I know this, don’t get me wrong.” Andy gives her a mildly puzzled “Okay. Good.” She goes on that “the fact that this is what I have been crying about for the past two days kind of made me realize that I can’t prevent crying. And that’s what I was trying to do by having the surgery. Prevent everyone from getting hurt. Not just me, but my dad, and my sister. I wanted the worst to be over with now, so we wouldn’t have to deal with it later.” Andy observes that you can neither prevent nor control pain and tragedy. “But the good news is, happiness can be just as unpredictable. Might even be right around the corner.” Ellie says that something that is right around the corner is Mitchell’s car, and asks if Andy wants to key it with her. Andy smiles mischievously and nods.

Bright and Hannah, both clad in T-shirts, are resting in Bright’s bed. Hannah wakes up and wonders what time it is, fretting that Nina’s probably worried. Bright, already awake, reminds her that they called Nina last night, as Hannah “couldn’t make it ten feet without...” Hannah groans that he shouldn’t remind her, and pulls the covers over her head. Bright tells her, with mild disappointment, that "if you're checking to see if you're nudie-rudie, you're not.” Hannah notes, in a very cute way, that, what with all the illness going on, she forgot to tell him that she’s “in-cred-ibly sorry.” Bright says it’s okay, since Reid’s probably already cleaned the bathroom. Heh. Hannah explains that she’s sorry for her craziness and for all the things she said. “I just don’t want you to get bored with me.” Bright apologizes for his part in contributing to her craziness, and adds that she’s probably right. Hannah takes this to mean that he is bored with her, and wonders where the Pepto-Bismol is. Bright assures her that he just agrees that it sometimes can get boring, and he was trying to pretend that it wasn’t. “You trying to do stuff to make it better, that’s the stuff I should be doing. ‘Cause, you know, we’re bound to get sick of each other from time to time, and I totally think that that’s normal. It’s probably why grown-ups have jobs.” Hee. Hannah smiles and agrees that it’s “possible.” Bright continues that the events of the previous night “prove that we can take it to many new levels without having to break up or get married.” Hannah doesn’t think that scombroid counts as a level. Bright, however, suggests that sleeping in the same bed does. “God, never know what’s gonna pull you out of a rut, but if you go around thinking that it’s only gonna be break-ups and weddings and babies...” Hee! Hannah is very quick to point out that she never said anything about babies. Bright says he’s “just making sure.” Sure, Bright. Hannah asks if she should get the cards. Bright thinks it can wait a little while. “This is kind of nice.” They snuggle in a little closer, though Bright reminds her to “watch the stomach.” And I really hate to say it, but this is pretty much the last time we’ll ever see cute from these two. *sniffle*

Ephram enters Kyle’s room, where Kyle is currently lying on the bed. He remarks that Kyle skipped that day’s lesson; Kyle says he already sent in the audition tape, so the lessons are no longer necessary. Ephram declares that they need to talk, though Kyle insists that they don’t. Ephram ignores him, though, and asks if he should just say it, or if Kyle wants to. Kyle doesn’t want to talk at all, though. “I mean, I know what you think I am, but I’m not. I don’t have to be if I don’t want to be, and I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be anything.” Ephram gently asks why he doesn’t “want to be.” Kyle says it’s for the same reasons that he thinks Ephram doesn’t want him to be: “Because it’s awful.” Ephram emphatically replies that it’s not, and that “there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being–” Kyle interjects a weak “Don’t,” but Ephram concludes: “Gay.” Kyle looks stricken. Ephram continues that he’s sorry for making Kyle feel bad, but Kyle assures him that he already felt that way about his feelings. Ephram insists that he should never feel like that. “You’re an amazing person, Kyle. You just gotta realize it.” Kyle wonders why he has to be something he doesn’t want to be, and asks what would happen if he never acknowledged it. Ephram thinks that he would be lying to himself. “And you’d be denying yourself an entire life that you deserve. And for what?” Kyle doesn’t seem all that pacified, but Ephram’s not finished yet. He continues that the sooner Kyle accepts who he is, the better he’ll feel. Kyle retorts that Ephram doesn’t know that. Ephram concedes that he doesn’t know how difficult it must be for Kyle, but that he does know something about keeping things “bottled up inside [...] I’ve kept secrets because I was afraid of what would happen when they came out, and when they did...” He allows that this isn’t anywhere near the level of what Kyle’s dealing with, but offers the example of coming back from Europe because of his love for Amy. “I didn’t want to tell her, because I thought I could love her from afar, and that would be enough, but it wasn’t. Wasn’t even close. Keeping those feelings just bottled up inside just killed me.” Kyle notes that Amy rejected him when he did finally tell her. Ephram, however, says he’s better off for it. “Now it’s done, it’s over.” Kyle points out, though, that once he comes out, it won’t be “over. It’ll just be more real, and I won’t be able to unsay it.” Ephram wonders why he would want to. Kyle thinks that he doesn’t “need any more reasons to make people hate” him. Ephram promises that no one hates Kyle; “right now, the only person that hates you is you.”

Ben Folds’ “The Luckiest” starts up, indicating that it’s Montage Time! Kyle begins to cry, and Ephram puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Hannah and Bright sit up in bed, eating soup and watching TV. Ellie sits with Ruth at the kitchen table and pours them both some iced tea. I’m not really sure what that scene was supposed to signify. Harold looks over the medical forms again and drops the red folder of LIES into the mailing envelope Rose is holding out. Rose giddily departs for the mailbox, while Harold is filled with consternation.

Andy’s asleep on the couch, an open book on his chest. The song is still playing, but there’s really too much dialogue here for it to count as part of the montage. Ephram comes in, and the sound of the door awakens Andy, who greets his son and observes that he “look[s] like hell.” Ephram says he feels like it, too, and sits in the chair next to the couch. He remarks that it must have been “weird” for Andy when Madison came to see him two years earlier. Andy finds it weird that Ephram’s bringing up Madison. Ephram concedes that he’s “all over the place,” and asks if Andy’s “ever had one of those days where something happens, and you just have, like, a flood of memories?” Andy has. Ephram says that, though he forgave Andy some time before, he finally understands why he did it: “You were trying to protect me from getting hurt.” Andy confirms this. Ephram continues that Andy couldn’t, though, which Andy also confirms. Ephram sees now “how you could be so scared, so scared about how the truth would affect somebody else’s future that you would actually do the wrong thing just to keep them safe. And then, in a little while, you realize that you’re actually just making it worse.” He apologizes to Andy, though Andy deems this unnecessary. But Ephram is still thinking about everything Andy went through with Madison, then with Ephram himself, only to end up losing Ephram. Andy: “But I didn’t.” Ephram considers this a moment, then says that he’s tired, and asks if he can stay there for the night (though I wonder how much of this actually has to do with the possibility that Reid hasn’t cleaned the bathroom yet). Andy smiles. “It’s the Brown house. All Browns stay for free.” We conclude on another window-framed shot of the Brown men.

Next time: Reid's a cheat; Hannah and Amy's friends meet; and Jake disagrees with...Treat.