Land of Confusion

Yeah...it's been awhile. And it will probably be a little while (though not 2 months!) before "Truth...", since my usual schedule of teaching and writing classes will be resuming shortly. But isn't Spring Break a grand thing?

Andy is setting up chairs in the living room, and tells Ephram that if they need more, he can get a few from Nina’s garage. All this is going on because Ephram’s students are having a recital! In the Brown living room! Aw! Ephram hands him the program he’s just printed. Andy looks it over and asks if “Symphony of Destruction” was composed by Stravinsky. Ephram: “Megadeth. Don’t ask.” Hee. Andy asks what Ephram will be playing, as it’s customary for the teacher to close out a recital. Ephram, however, will be sitting this one out, as “it’s about the students, it’s not about me.” He’s grown so much! Already, with the teariness. This should be a fun recap. Andy, though, points out that the parents will want to “know what they’re paying for.” Ephram doesn’t really care, but is reminded by this to inform Andy, casual as you please, that he needs a check for $2500. Andy is understandably taken aback, and illustrates this with a rather comical raised eyebrows/shoulder shrug move. Ephram says that it’s for next year’s tuition deposit for A&M. He turns to leave, but Andy wants to discuss Ephram’s plan to transfer, which comes as news to him. Ephram explains that he can’t spend another year at ECC – “I think I’ve actually gotten dumber” – so he contacted Chris Templeman, the A&M guy who recruited him way back in S3's “Shoot the Moon.” He adds that Amy told him (at some point in time though I’ve no idea when, as Amy tends to lie about how often she talks with Ephram) they have a great liberal arts department. Picking up on the possible import of this, Andy asks if Amy has any plans to return the following year. Ephram, all blase, says he doesn’t know. Andy needles Ephram about this a little, but Ephram protests that Amy is not his only reason for staying; he also has friends, students, and an apartment there, as well as access to free food from the Brown house. “I may have to see your sorry face every once in a while, but I guess no plan’s perfect.” Heh. Andy declares that he’s happy if Ephram is, and prepares to get his checkbook. Kyle suddenly enters, cheerfully asking if anyone’s home and observing that the door was open. Open like, "unlocked," or like, “come on in, wild animals and occasionally-snotty teens in denial about their sexuality”? In any case, Ephram shows Kyle the program and informs him that he’s got the last slot, performing Rhapsody in Blue. Kyle announces that he won’t be able to make it, as he has another gig. Ephram doesn’t buy it, but Kyle adds that it’s in New York: he got the Juilliard audition! I never even liked the kid that much, but he’s so happy! Aw! Ephram is stunned. Andy offers him a hearty congratulations. Ephram is now in disbelief, stuttering that it seems like “just yesterday” that they sent in his tape. Andy invites Kyle to stay for a steak dinner, but Kyle has to go home with his mother to pack. He asks for some last words of wisdom from Ephram. Ephram: “Yeah. Don’t suck.” Kyle jovially responds with a “like you did?” Ephram denies that he sucked, but, perhaps wisely, doesn’t go into any further explanation. Instead, he advises Kyle not to rush through the adagio, and wishes him good luck. Kyle thanks him, and waves a peppy goodbye to Andy, before departing. Ephram calls the whole thing “incredible,” and is in awe of the fact that he got a student a Juilliard audition, adding, half-jokingly, that he can charge more for lessons now. He suddenly looks a little glum, and announces that he’s going to get more chairs. Andy is concerned.

Jake’s leading a support group meeting. He’s saying all sorts of inspirational things about “falling down” but getting up again and “finding your balance.” What he says doesn’t really matter, as the main point of this scene is to show that the other members really appreciate his work, as indicated by their applause for him. Also worth noting is Nina’s presence in the back of the room, separate from the actual group. Jake hands out call sheets, reminding everyone that each person is a “strand in a net” and that “if you think you’re gonna fall, call.” I tried to think of a snarky remark to make here, but it's pretty much impossible to top what's just been said onscreen. He concludes with a “be careful out there,” before confessing that he’s always wanted a chance to say that. Heh. The members begin to disperse; a woman named Mary spots Nina and tells her that Jake is “saving her life.” Nina says the same is true for her. Mary urges Nina to “hold onto him,” and walks away. Nina smiles at the sight of Jake with all his disciples. Jake smiles at Nina. Everyone’s happy, la di da.

Meanwhile, over at the Apartment of Discord and Resentment, Hannah is tending to the newly broken-handed Bright, who’s sitting at the counter. She’s kind of hovering, asking if he needs a pillow to prop up his arm, and wondering if ibuprofen should be taken every four or six hours. Bright replies that he’s been taking them every twenty minutes. Hannah looks terrified, but he then tells her he’s kidding. Yeah, you’re a laugh riot, Bright. Mock the girl who just wants to take care of you! Sorry. Preemptive hostility. I mean, Bright is basically tied with Ephram as my favorite character on the show, and he's way up there on my list of favorite TV characters, period. But for the first forty or so minutes of this episode? No. Anyhoo, he assures her that broken hands happen and he’s fine, and thanks her. Hannah wonders, in a somewhat dubious tone, why he thought it was a good idea to karate-chop a board in the first place. Hee. Bright snaps that had he succeeded, it would’ve “been really cool, and I’d have won twenty bucks.” Keep aiming high, Bright. Hannah doesn’t appreciate being yelled at, though Bright insists he didn’t yell. He heads for the couch, while Hannah rebuts that he did yell, and the fact that he didn’t realize it is an indication that he’s still angry with her. Bright insists that he’s not mad, and Hannah tells him he is, and that he has every right to be since she wasn’t honest with him about the party thing. Bright, sounding sincere this time, assures her that that’s not it. Hannah wonders what it is, then. Bright begins by saying that he doesn’t care that she talked about her problems with Amy instead of him; what’s actually bothering him is the possibility that “there’s more stuff. Like, maybe you don’t like the fact that I play video games, or, or, maybe you, you know, you don’t want to make me sandwiches...” Hannah emphatically interjects that she doesn’t mind the sandwiches. Hee! This exchange is such a callback to “The Next Step.” Bright continues that he thinks there has to be more, but that “we just don’t want to say anything about it because we don’t want to upset each other.” Note the repeated use of the personal pronoun. Hannah certainly does, and questions it. Bright quickly replies that he didn’t say “we. I said ‘ye.’ Like pirates talk.” I’ll give you this one, Bright: heeee. But that’s all you’re getting for the rest of the episode. Hannah scoffs at his excuse, and marches over to the couch, declaring that she wants to know if he hasn’t been honest with her about something. “Something that I do that you don’t like? Or something that you want me to do that I don’t?” Yeah...pretty sure it’s that one. And sure enough, Bright jumps in at just this point to deny that he has any problems, and then gets all unpleasant again, accusing Hannah of making the whole thing “specific” and putting it on Bright, when she was the one who lied. Hannah defensively replies that she was just trying to compromise, since he cares so much about parties, and that she only “pretended” because she loved him. Bright wonders if that isn’t their whole problem. Hannah questions this, but Bright actually makes a not-unreasonable point here: “You feel like you have to pretend for me. You know, maybe we’re more different than we thought. But because we love each other so much, we’ve been trying to, y’know, be more the same. And...that’s probably why something is missing here.” As much truth as there might be to this statement, it’s not exactly welcome to Hannah, who pitifully asks “what’s missing?” Bright shrugs that he doesn’t know. Hannah, angrily this time, asks how he can know something’s missing, then. Bright replies, in a casually obnoxious way, thus sort of negating for me the reasonable claim he just made, that he doesn’t “know,” but can “just feel it.” Hannah’s had enough, and storms towards the door, while Bright issues a half-hearted apology, claiming not to know what he’s saying. Hannah retorts that she doesn’t know what he’s saying, either; “all I know is that you’re making me feel horrible, so, goodbye.” Two confrontations in as many episodes! She’s on a roll! Hannah makes her exit, leaving Bright alone with his jackassery.

Brown House Revisited. Nina’s there now, setting up flower arrangements for some reason or other, and gushing about how “empathetic and perceptive” Jake is and how happy he is helping others. Andy’s only response is to remark that he thought she wasn’t going to attend the meeting; Nina admits that she wasn’t, initially, but Andy made her realize how unsupportive that would be. She also realized that she didn’t want to be one of the stone-throwing townspeople she feared, though the meeting made her see that everyone actually adores Jake and his grand plan. Andy is glad things have worked out. Nina, who, for some reason, still thinks it’s a terrific idea to discuss this relationship with the third party who happens to be in love with her, declares that she’s also realized how very lucky she is. Andy: “Yep. You are two lucky people.” It’s really all in the flat delivery, which merits a nice hee! Andy notices the floral arrangements covering every spare surface of the living room and asks if it “look[s] like a florist threw up in here?” (Yes.) Nina’s too lost in Jake-induced dreaminess to be of any design help to Andy, though, as she muses that they are lucky, and that she “never thought [she’d] find [her]self here again.” Andy wonders where “here” is; Nina is referring to being in a place where she imagines having a future with someone. Andy guesses that she means “weddings, honeymoons, babies.” Nina laughs that she hadn’t even thought of babies, but sure, that too! I have to give Andy massive credit here, because we have come a long, long way from S3 and the premiere. You now have the patience of a saint, dude. Andy seemingly concludes his list of future things with the non-sequitur “...and candles,” though he clarifies matters by announcing that there are too many of those, besides flowers, in the room. Nina asks what she’s waiting for, since she and Jake aren’t getting any younger and should get started on the kid thing ASAP. In fact, she and Jake should get married! Andy, mildly alarmed, glances up from the chairs he’s arranging and replies that maybe they will, someday. Nina, however, thinks they should just “do it now.” Andy reminds her that she should probably wait for the proposal first, but Nina wonders why she can’t just do the proposing herself, as it is 2006 and all. (Hee hee. It’s a testament to how tired I am that I’m still totally amused by the date discrepancies that arise when recapping a long-canceled show.) Nina doesn’t add as support the fact that Lorelai Gilmore set that proposal precedent just a year earlier, perhaps because Nina read spoilers about how disastrously that engagement was going to turn out. She sits, as does Andy, who observes that she’s serious about this and remarks that Jake must have given “one hell of a speech.” Nina says that it’s not just the meeting, but all the things he’s been doing to improve himself – cutting back his office hours, helping her at Sam’s, and spending time with the human Sam. Nina concludes that Jake is “trying to appreciate his life more.” Andy, staring at the floor, weakly replies that it’s “great,” but that it all seems a little soon since they “just got back on track.” Nina protests the “just,” but Andy continues that they should “live with it for awhile, enjoy the view.” Nina says that she’s so happy, moreso than she’s been in years, and that it may be a “leap of faith, but what marriage isn’t?” Andy concedes this point. Nina asks if he can think of any real reason for her not to take that leap. Andy looks her in the eyes and...does not do what he would’ve done 14 or 15 episodes earlier, which is to say that he merely sighs a little, and jovially declares that he won’t help her pick out a ring. Nina stands and laughs, giving Andy a peck on the cheek as she bounces out of the room. Andy, meanwhile, remains seated, looking very, very sad.

Apartment again, this time occupied by characters who are actually presently likeable. The phone rings, waking Ephram, who comes down from his crawl space and calls for Bright to get it. Andy enters at that moment and informs Ephram that he just passed Bright and Reid in the hall. And at just that moment, Bright leaves Ephram a message declaring a “Code red: Your dad is coming upstairs right now! Code red!” Heh. Ephram picks up the phone and, grimacing, thanks him for the heads-up. Andy amusedly remarks on the system they’ve set up. Ephram changes the subject, asking “to what do I owe this housecall, before my morning cereal, no less?” Andy casually replies that he just wanted to finally check out the apartment; in the process of doing so, he espies a suspiciously-familiar toaster oven and asks if it’s his. Ephram is quick to deny this, and asks what’s up. Andy takes a few moments before confessing that he’s been thinking about Kyle and Juilliard. Ephram: “You need hobbies, Dad.” There’s always flower arranging. Andy, though, wants to make his point, which is this: while he knows Ephram is happy for Kyle, he also knows that the news “messed with [his] head a little.” Ephram admits that it might have. Andy asks if he wants to talk about it, which Ephram decidedly does not: “What’s the point? I blew my audition. It’s not like I’m gonna get a third chance. I think it’s safe to say that ship has officially sailed.” Andy, continuing the cliched metaphor, proposes that he just take another ship instead, like Yale or Peabody or Indiana. Ephram, though, reminds Andy that he’s already “set things in motion” with A&M. Andy, however, insists that nothing’s set in stone, and that he doesn’t want to see Ephram there just because of Amy. Ephram asserts that it’s not “just” because of Amy, though, he admits, it is “mainly” because of her. Andy urges Ephram not to base his major life decisions on “a girl who may or may not be there for you at the end of the day,” and mentions how hard it would be to have to witness her ending up with someone else. Ephram turns it right back on Andy, adding “Especially if she’s my neighbor.” Andy heartily agrees with this. Ephram sits down with Andy at the counter and says that even if he did want to attend a conservatory, which he’s not saying he does, it would be too late to audition for that year. “That puts me twelve months behind. Piano time is like dog years: compared to Kyle, I’m already like 70.” Andy asks Ephram to let him help, since he has a few “connections” that Ephram has never let him use before. This is because Ephram wants to earn his achievements, but Andy assures him that he’ll still have to; Andy can simply “open a few doors” for him. Ephram accepts the offer, though under one condition: “I keep the toaster.” Hee. Andy asks if Ephram would really “sell [his] soul for a toaster.” Apparently yes, as Ephram declares it a “kick-ass toaster.” Good times! And then...

Oh, yay, Bright and Reid at Sam’s. Bright is on his cellphone, apparently checking his messages, which, according to Reid, he just did five minutes earlier. Bright explains that he left Hannah a message to apologize, but she hasn’t returned his call. He notes that it’s the longest they’ve ever gone without talking, and flings an empty coffee cup in Reid’s general direction. Reid, picking up on the ire, asks what happened. Bright says that they’re just “in a bad place” and he doesn’t know how to get past it without admitting the truth, which he can’t do as it would mean that he had been lying and thus can’t be mad at Hannah for lying. “Which, honestly, I’m not even really mad about. It’s just...it makes me think about my lying and...we’re just in a bad place.” Dang, all the space that dialogue just took up, and that was with my having paraphrased a good portion of it. He’s been spending entirely too much time around Hannah. Reid says that it’s “the sex thing, right?” Bright glances around and asks if Reid doesn’t have some kind of mental “secret decoder ring.” Reid, however, simply asks if Bright really thinks he’s that fond of the gym, and announces that he himself hasn’t had sex in eight months. Wow, Reid, I can’t believe you’ve lived to tell the tale. Bright points out, though, that Reid doesn’t have a girlfriend who will do “other stuff” but not “the stuff,” which constantly reminds him of what he doesn’t get to do, and I’m sure the many other patrons of Sam’s standing nearby are finding this conversation quite entertaining. Bright finally compares the situation to having an ice cream cone that he can never actually finish licking. On Hannah’s behalf, ew. Reid notes that Bright never has to finish the Ice Cream Cone of Hannah's Love, and that he and Hannah seemed to be “great,” so why is it an issue now? Bright confesses that he’s worried that they’re ignoring everything that’s not working. “I was completely fine when it was just me pretending, but now that I know she’s pretending, too, it makes me wonder if our whole relationship is false. If we can’t be who we really are, then who are we, really?” Someone still remembers his philosophy course! Reid brings up Occam’s Razor. Bright’s all “of course, Achmed’s Razor...” Maybe not. Reid explains, and suggests that the simplest solution to Bright’s problem would simply be to talk to Hannah about it. Bright, however, protests that he already knows that Hannah will just say that she doesn’t believe in premarital sex, and that won’t change; neither, however, will the fact that Bright wants it. Reid concedes this, and says that Bright and Hannah might just have to break up, but at least they would do so in complete honesty, and that if Bright really loves Hannah, he owes her that much. Bright glumly observes that he “can’t believe this. I feel like I’m right back on that rock with Ephram.” The now-confused Reid jokes that his “decoder ring just broke,” and then leaves for the library. Bright checks his messages again.

Nina, her hands covering Jake’s eyes, leads him into the dining room and guides him to a chair at the table. She uncovers his eyes, and he is shocked and astounded to see in front of him...a laptop computer. “It’s...my laptop?” Nina rolls her eyes a little and directs the “boy genius” to look at the screen. Jake observes that it’s the “Vail Mountain Inn” site, and Nina announces that she just booked a room for them there this weekend, and goes on about all the great skiing, in-room massages, and dinner they can enjoy. She also adds that there will be an “extra-special surprise” after all that, so I guess she found a ring. Jake, however, says that he can’t go, as he already has plans to go to his old rehab center in Carbondale. Nina, sounding very disappointed, remarks that she had checked his appointment book the day before, but Jake explains that it was all very sudden; he met an addictions counselor at the meeting, who said that Jake’s program would be perfect for “isolated small towns” and encouraged Jake to attend this weekend’s state counseling convention in an effort to get state funding. Jake concludes that if all goes well, his program could eventually go national. Nina happily calls this “amazing,” and Jake concurs. She asks how it would work, exactly, like if he would run the whole program and, if so, if it would work on a part-time basis for him. Jake doesn’t know yet, but does suggest that if he enjoys it enough, he might just give up his practice. Nina is happy for him, and reaches for the computer in order to reschedule their reservation. Jake, though, proposes that Nina just come to Carbondale with him, instead, since Sam’s already spending the weekend with Shutup Carl. Nina is dubious, but Jake talks up the Carbondale Holiday Inn’s luxurious amenities, including vending machine food, cable movies, and an in-room massage by Jake. He concludes that after all that, Nina can give him her surprise. Nina accepts his invitation.

Bright exits a building on the ECC campus, with phone in hand, and heads for the parking lot, where he spots the peculiar juxtaposition of a blonde chick, a table, and a small car. Insert your own joke. As he walks past the trio, he remarks to the human member of it that she can keep staring, but the table’s not going to fit. The woman greets Bright as “Tony Tigarillo” and Bright is happily surprised to realize that it’s Ada, last seen producing a fake ID for Ephram back in S2's “Unspoken Truths.” She has some convenient timing, this one. Ada Ex Machina calls Bright the “big man on campus;” Bright, kind of flustered, goes along with this, and asks if Ada’s also an ECC student. Ada sarcastically asks if she looks like a sorority girl; considering that she kind of does, albeit one who’s about five to ten years older than the others, this necessitates her actually coming right out and saying that she’s not a student. She explains that she just bought the table off of craigslist for her new shop, as her yarn store actually sells yarn now. Bright deems this a “bold concept.” Ada continues that “stitch and bitch” is very in right now, but that her only problem is that she can’t figure out how to fit the table into the trunk of her car. Bright observes that it’s a bit of a square peg-round hole issue, and asks if she measured first. Ada says “yeah, right,” and explains that she doesn’t measure things, because she’s a girl. Shut up, YarnHo. She’s all, “I thought I could just mush it in, hee hee!” More importantly, she declares that her “trunk is too tight,” a line which essentially leads Bright to pursue a slightly less simple solution to his problem, though one that will have the same basic outcome as Reid’s suggestion. He makes Bad Decision #1, as he offers to put Ada’s table in his truck and deliver it to the shop. Ada notes that the table is heavy and Bright is currently one-handed; Bright replies that Ada has “no idea what [he] can do with just one good hand.” Ada laughs, and Bright, realizing how it sounded, hastily explains that he didn’t mean it that way, ho ho! Ada volunteers to help carry the table, and they each pick up an end and make their way to the truck.

Random Concert Hall. Andy asks Ephram what he thought of the performance; Ephram’s all adorably giddy and goes on about how the guy they just heard is “the greatest pianist in America” and that he played the mazurka even faster than Chopin could have. Andy guesses that Ephram liked it, then. Ephram confirms that it was, indeed, “awesome,” but that he’s not sure how it will help him figure out his future. Andy casually suggests that Ephram just ask the pianist, and calls out a “Hey, Andre!” Ephram notes that Andy said that as though he knows the guy, which Andy informs him he does, as he operated on his father a few years earlier. Andre comes over and greets Andy as “Doc,” before turning to Ephram and remarking that Andy’s told Andre a lot about him. Ephram apologizes [hee] and says he’s a big fan. Andre replies that he’s a big fan of Andy’s, and adds that his father says hi. Andy suddenly announces that he’s going to go get something to drink, and leaves the two pianists alone. Andre remarks that Andy’s told him Ephram plays, which Ephram confirms he does, though nothing like Andre does. Andre assures him that he didn’t always play like that, either; nodding in the direction of backstage, he offers Ephram some coffee. Ephram accepts, and follows Andre. Upon reaching the stage, Ephram takes a moment to look around and, presumably, to imagine his piano-playing future, before heading backstage.

Yarn Shop of Gahhh. Bright is seated at a table, while Ada saunters over to offer him “another” beer. Bright lamely replies that he should probably be leaving, but, making Bad Decision #2, declares that he’s “not one to waste good beer,” and so accepts her offer. Ada sits, while Bright asks what “stitch and bitch” is, exactly. Ada defines it as a bunch of women sitting around, drinking wine, knitting and discussing their boyfriends. Bright thinks it sounds “dangerous.” Ada suggests that it’s good to “get things off your chest sometimes.” Is every line she says meant to sound like a double entendre? Apparently so, as Bright’s only response is to take a big swig of beer. Ada decides she’d be more comfortable perched atop the table, and parks herself there in front of Bright while innocently asking if he needs to get anything off his chest. Bright says that he doesn’t, though he confesses that he sometimes likes to karate-chop blocks of wood. Yeah, you know, Bright, that bit of information was only cute the first time. When your girlfriend mentioned it. He continues that he’s just taking classes right now and figuring out what he wants to do. Ada asks what it is that he wants to do. Bright shrugs that he doesn’t know, though Ada insists that “some part of” him must know. Bright claims that it’s “all very confusing.” Randomly, Ada decides that this means there’s a girl involved. Because that’s generally how conversations about figuring out one’s career future go. With Bad Decision #3, Bright admits that there is a girl involved, but that things are “very weird” at the moment. Ada, ever subtle, surmises that there are “problems in the boudoir.” Stupid Bright is like “How did you...” before quickly asking why she would think that. In a friendly gesture, Ada decides to rest her feet in Bright’s lap, and observes that people say “if the sex is good, it’s only 5 percent of the relationship, but if the sex is bad...” She takes a moment to lean in close to Bright, perhaps because she fears he won’t hear her in the ‘sultry’ voice she’s decided to adopt. “...It’s 95 percent.” Stupid, stupid Bright asks what they say “if there’s no sex at all?” Ada, puzzled, asks if it’s “the hand-thing,” but Bright grimly replies that it’s “pre-hand.” Ada plays footsie with Bright’s beslinged arm, and asks if that means he can “still do stuff,” even with a cast. Bright eyes her a little warily, but replies that he doesn’t know, because he hasn’t tried. Ada, in the interests of scientific discovery, eases off the table and into Bright’s lap, declaring it a “shame,” since Bright’s “at [his] sexual peak and all” and oh kill me now. Ada then says something I can’t understand about possibly his “wrist” and “beer,” but enunciation doesn’t seem to be Kelly Carlson’s strong suit, so whatever, and kisses him. Bright – Bad Decision #4 time! – is totally cool with all this. Ada proceeds to remove her shirt, revealing her (naturally) bright-red lace bra. They begin to make out in earnest, and Bright moves the proceedings to the tabletop and...Bright! No! YOU STOP THAT RIGHT NOW! But he's just a little too preoccupied making Bad Decision #5 to pay any heed.

Backstage. Andre is regaling Ephram with a story about performing at Warsaw’s Grand Concert Hall; it was cold and no one else spoke English, but his performance of Someone’s Third Sonata was so exceptional that he went from being a “nobody” to a “god” with record deals and such. Way to keep yourself humble there, Andre. Ephram appears kind of overwhelmed. Andre asks what Ephram’s story is, and remarks that Andy had told him he “missed out” on the Juilliard audition. Ephram adds that it was almost a year before, and Andre correctly surmises that Ephram’s afraid he’s missed his chance. Ephram responds by hanging his head down and looking morose. Though, that’s how he’s looked for pretty much this whole scene. Andre assures Ephram that he hasn’t missed out on anything, and optimistically offers himself as an example, explaining that he just adhered to a plan of school, practice, and competitions, and is now, as a result, “living the dream.” Ephram rather skeptically asks if “a plan” was really all that was necessary. Andre informs him that it’s ultimately less about talent, and more about “who wants it the most.” Ephram guesses that that’s the problem, as he’s never quite known what he’s wanted. Andre asks if, during the concert, Ephram imagined himself performing on-stage. Ephram, of course, did, “until you started the mazurka, in which case I came crashing back down to earth.” Andre declares that Ephram has his answer, then, as “a performer wants to play.” Well, that’s...goofy advice. Sometimes I like to imagine myself performing in concerts, too, but I have no illusions about actually becoming a handbell-flute-and-violin-playing singer-pianist. Though that’s largely because I never actually got past the beginning levels in the first four of those things, so...never mind. Um, so Andre reminds Ephram that he is a PERFORMER, and exhorts him to make his plan and to work and – that universally useful gem – to “go for it!” Andre’s phone starts to ring, though he doesn’t answer. After several rings, Ephram asks if it’s his girlfriend; Andre smirks a little and says it’s his manager, adding that he hasn’t had a girlfriend since high school, given how difficult his schedule makes it to meet people. Ephram replies that his family, at least, must attend some of his shows. Andre remarks that they used to, but “the thrill is gone” and he doesn’t see them very often, though he tries to visit every other Christmas or so. Ephram smiles sardonically and guesses that “it’s true what they say: it’s lonely at the top.” Andre, however, is a little less sentimental than Ephram, and smirks that “the view is great.” Ephram smiles sardonically some more, while Andre’s phone rings again; this time it’s his ride, ready to take him to the airport. Ephram thanks Andre for his time. Andre isn’t quite done yet, though; he says that he went to the Yale School of Music, and will call them right away and set up an audition for Ephram for the following week. Ephram’s just a little stunned by the whole “next week” thing (and how well would that go, anyway? He’s been playing again since “Lost and Found,” but he hasn’t really been in audition-mode the way he was throughout Season 3). Andre doesn’t put any additional pressure on at all when he continues that as long as Ephram doesn’t “screw it up – which you won't – you’ll start fall semester.” He adds that he’ll call Andy about the details. Ephram nods a little, and they shake hands, with Andre wishing him a final good luck before departing.

Jake and Nina asleep in bed. The phone rings, waking Jake, who picks up after several rings. After the caller says something at length, Jake assures her [lame spoiler! It was that or use “he/she/it” the rest of the phone convo] that he’ll be there right away, and that she should just stay where she is. Jake starts to get up, and Nina finally awakens. Jake urges her to go back to sleep, but she observes that he seems to be getting ready to go out. Jake explains that the previously-seen Mary is currently standing outside the Sportsman’s Lodge and it’s his duty to make sure she doesn’t go inside. Nina notes that it’s after midnight, but Jake equates it to being on-call for a hospital. Nina, however, sees a bit of a difference between that and being on-call for a bar. Jake, though, says it’s “where the sick person is,” and kisses Nina goodbye, telling her not to worry and, again, to go back to sleep. Nina looks a little too unsettled for that, however.

Camera pans over yarn and Ada’s discarded bra while, off to the side of the frame, Bright puts on his shirt, which I suppose is to compensate for having to watch Ada reveal said bra in their last scene. Except now Ada emerges from some back room wrapped in just an afghan. She holds out a glass of water and asks if Bright would like some. Bright, looking ill, refuses but thanks her for the offer. He gathers up his coat and sling, while Ada, sounding rather wistful, asks if he has to go. Bright claims to have this “thing” the next day, but leans in a little closer to say that he “had fun” and it was “nice seeing you again.” Ada agrees. Bright leaves, and Ada stares after him, wearing a somewhat creepy smile that makes it seem as though she’s soon going to stalk him, and perhaps boil Reid or something.

Bright, meanwhile, is now sitting in his truck and looking pretty much like death warmed over, and this is about the point where I can drop the hostility.

Next day. Ephram’s Pianopalooza! A punk-y girl is finishing up “Symphony of Destruction.” The parents in attendance are underwhelmed, but Ephram, standing in the doorway, starts up the applause and tells “Penny” it was “fantastic.” He makes his way to the front of the room (which, right now, is ‘the place where the piano is’) and announces a 15-minute intermission and urges everyone to enjoy the bundt cake. He turns to Penny and tells her she did a great job, though she thinks “the ending sucked.” And it sort of did, but Ephram assures her that she made “me and Megadeth very proud.” Penny perks up and Ephram smiles at this and it’s just all so cute and this episode is wrecking me on so many levels, I swear. Ephram glances up and spots a worried-looking Kyle standing in the doorway. Ephram, concerned, asks what’s going on, since he’s supposed to be in New York. Kyle says that they came home a day early, and they go outside to discuss things further. Ephram, of course, has assumed the worst, and asks if Kyle froze up. Kyle, however, smiles and announces that the audition was great; he’s received a callback and met with financial aid – they’re offering him a scholarship! Aw, Kyle! *sniffle* Ephram is genuinely, happily shocked and deems this “incredible,” but wonders, then, why Kyle looks less than ecstatic. Kyle confesses that he told his mother. Ephram asks what that means; Kyle makes a bit of a “duh” face, and Ephram finally Gets It. Kyle explains that they were walking through Times Square and, evidently, all its bustle and energy prompted him to just say it. Ephram asks how he feels; Kyle feels “overwhelmed, but good,” and notes that his mother took it well and even said that she already knew. He concludes that he and his mom will both be moving to New York, if he’s accepted. Ephram amends Kyle’s “if” to a very definite “when,” though the once-arrogant Kyle responds with a “we’ll see.” Even he’s grown! Oh, the Brown men and the surrogate son. It’s all so lovely! Ephram says that he’s proud that Kyle “did it.” Kyle: “Because of you. All of it, really.” *sniffle sniffle* He continues that he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to thank Ephram for changing his whole life. Ephram assures him he doesn’t have to, though Kyle, slightly nonsensically, replies that he “think[s] [he] just did.” They laugh a little, and Kyle observes that Ephram should probably go back inside. Ephram pauses a moment before asking if Kyle would like to play. Kyle asks if he gets the finale. Ephram says that, actually, he’ll be taking the finale after all, “but you can warm them up for me.” Kyle laughs and follows Ephram inside. *recapper continues to dab at tears*

Jake and Nina in the kitchen, preparing for the Carbondale excursion. Nina is looking over a document that informs her that it is, in fact, actually possible to be “addicted to love,” and the scene would be entirely more entertaining if Jake then broke into song to elaborate on this. But all he does is take the booklet from her and add that it’s just one of many addictions, like “booze and drugs and sex” and a whole passel of other things. He asks Nina if she’d mind driving, since he needs to review his abstracts in preparation for everything. Nina is a bit taken aback by all this, given that she thought he only had to give a presentation, but he explains that he’s actually expected to “do the full-court press...like one-stop shopping for the entire addiction community.” He holds up a tie and asks if he should go with or without, the latter of which he cites as the “Tony Robbins” look, which doesn’t seem like a ringing endorsement for the tie-less approach. Nina wonders when she’ll get to see Jake. Jake confesses that he’s not sure, since it’s all turned out to be more work than he initially expected. Nina rather tensely notes that she can see, and, sounding slightly chagrined, he apologizes. Nina decides to take things in a new direction and, taking a seat at the table, says that while she’s no expert, she wonders if there isn’t maybe a “pattern.” Jake, tying his tie, has no idea what she means, so she elaborates: he finally cut back on his office hours, only to begin going “100 miles an hour” with his support group work. Jake defensively replies that it’s just “who I am: I work hard, I play hard,” and as long as it’s in the service of helping others and staying sober, isn’t it really all to the good? Nina tentatively suggests that it’s not a problem, but that it seems as though it might make it difficult for him to put their relationship first. Jake very heartily denies this, actually uttering the words “I can have it all!” Wow. He exclaims that he can totally handle work and a relationship and the meetings “and everything can come first!” Again, wow. Nina laughs that that may be true at the moment, but wouldn’t be so with kids involved, since “babies trump everything.” Jake doesn’t at all realize what she’s getting at, dismissing her concerns by observing that Sam is not a baby. Nina gazes at him intently, eventually leading him to realize what she’s actually saying. He returns her slightly hopeful gaze with one of awkward terror. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Jake flatly states that Nina wants to have a baby. Nina admits that she does, “eventually,” and asks if it hasn’t crossed Jake’s mind. Jake sighs and smiles a little, before confessing that it hasn’t, actually. Nina is disappointed. Jake sits down, and the two share another, even longer and more uncomfortable silence, before he gently reminds her that he’s only been sober for two months, and needs to take life one day at a time. He assures her he loves her, but he’s “just not thinking about the future in that way.” He adds that he “thought [Nina] understood that.” This really, really seems like a conversation they should have had a very long time ago, but then, the whole narcotics addiction revelation put a bit of a wrench in matters, I suppose. Nina, as we well know, did not 'understand that,' but she just smiles wryly and remarks that she must have jumped the gun. Jake looks a bit sad, and, after a few more silent moments, says that he’s sorry. Nina is sorry that Jake’s not ready for the future, too, though she doesn’t say it in so many words.

Bachelor Pad of Remorse. The phone rings; Reid picks up and perkily greets the caller – Hannah, of course, the mention of whose name prompts Bright, who’s slump-sitting on the floor next to his bed, to look up in dread. Reid tells Hannah to hang on, but Bright gives Reid the “I’m not here” gesture. Reid mouths a “seriously?,” but goes along with this and lies to Hannah that Bright just left and that Reid will tell him she called. Bright continues to look deeply rueful.

Brown kitchen. Ephram appears to be putting the food from the recital away when Andy walks past and invites him to come watch the recital video. Ephram thought that he and Andy had an “agreement,” which Andy confirms that they did: he said that he wouldn’t tape the proceedings, and he didn’t – Penny’s father did. Ephram is appalled that Andy would “bribe” the other man, though I’m not sure what evidence Ephram has for Andy having done this. But he did, apparently, since he replies that he only did it so they’d have Ephram’s performance of Chopin to give to Andre as part of the whole Yale plan. Ephram announces, however, that he will not be going to Yale. Andy breezily asks if it’s too far, and suggests he try Indiana, instead: “You could be a Hoosier!” I think Treat is doing 'fun delivery' overtime to make up for this episode’s Tom Amandes deficiency. Andy starts the tape, providing a very nice soundtrack for the next few seconds. Ephram declares that he’ll be attending Colorado A&M, and has already spoken with Chris Templeman, who will have him enrolled in the Music Education program for the following fall. Andy, puzzled, turns off the tape and asks if Ephram wants to teach. He does, in fact: “Right now I want to do that more than anything else.” What is wrong with my tear ducts and this storyline? He thanks Andy, who replies that he didn’t do anything. Ephram thinks that he did, though, by setting up the get-together with Andre, since otherwise Ephram would have wondered what he might have missed out on by not pursuing that course. Andy wonders what changed Ephram’s mind. Ephram: “I did. After Mom died, I mean...even before, I used music to hide. I would lock myself in my room, not deal with anything, including myself. I’m done with that, I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I’m sick and tired of being the ‘genius-loner-piano prodigy.’ Music connects me to the world. I love seeing Penny get better, or, or seeing the lightbulb go off as Kyle finally gets a piece. I can help change these kids, I could show them who they are, who they could be...just like the Army.” Andy is clearly quite proud of his son, and observes that Ephram has figured out more before the age of 21 than Andy has in 52 years: “I guess you are a prodigy!” Ephram disputes this, noting that it took him this entire year to come to terms with the events of S3, meaning that he’s actually rather slow. But, he continues, at least he can now put everything behind him, “except for one thing: Madison.” Andy responds with a knowing “Ah,” and Ephram says regretfully that he was a “jerk” to her. Andy thinks that she probably understands, but Ephram still wishes he could somehow go back in time to the coffee shop debacle and handle things better than he did. Andy says that’s “simple.” Ephram dryly asks if Andy knows how to time travel, and man would that make an awesome spin-off, but only as long as he took Harold along for the ride. Andy, though, merely suggests that Ephram call Madison, though Ephram scoffs that he wishes it were that easy. Andy replies that it’s not easy, but it does work, and offers one of his grins. Ephram stares at him, for several moments, and...end scene. Slightly anti-climactic conclusion there, but excellent overall.

Sam’s. Nina’s at a table going over paperwork. Andy, who’s suddenly there now (because he does time travel! This is actually happening at the same time as the previous scene! It’s a big crazy paradox! For real!), spots her and asks if she isn’t supposed to be in Vail. Nina glumly explains that Jake had “a sobriety thingy in Carbondale.” Andy realizes the import of this change in plans, and asks if Nina’s okay. She says that she is, and is a little embarrassed about having gotten carried away, especially in front of Andy. Andy takes a seat and sarcastically remarks that he’s certainly never done anything “stupid” in front of her! “Hey, you want to play the shame game? You have got miles to go to catch me, girlfriend.” Hee! Ah, feels good to genuinely like Andy again. Nina laughs, but sighs that she doesn’t “know what [she’s] doing anymore.” Andy thinks that she’s just trying to be happy, which is “harder than it looks.” He asks if Sam’s still away, and Nina says he is, so “‘til Monday, it’s just me.” Wait – wait. Hold on. There is still a fourth person living in that house, yes? Are we back to that pesky alternate dimensions thing that’s cropped up before? I blame Time Travelin’ Andy’s paradox for this. Andy invites Totally Alone Nina to have dinner with he and Delia, trying to lure her with the promise of “awesome leftovers from the recital.” Nina begs off, claiming paperwork, but Andy argues that if Nina really feels bad, she shouldn’t be “alone,” but should instead come over and be an “honorary Brown.” Nina finally accepts and thanks him, and says she’ll see him later, before standing and sashaying to her office. Andy watches her sashay, but he’s behaving well, so it’s okay.

Ephram is...I’m not entirely sure where he is, actually. The crawl space? But if so, then the next scene must take place quite a bit later than this one, because Ephram’s elsewhere by then. I’ve really lost all sense of time and space here, so let’s just say that he’s somewhere with a phone and bedroom furniture. He, and we, hear Madison’s answering machine message, and after the beep, Ephram begins. He expresses surprise that the number still works, thus explaining how he knows where to call, and then refers to himself as “me,” but further explains that it’s “Ephram,” since he assumes she’s moved on to other “it’s me”s. He finally starts to make his point, which is that he’s been thinking about her, and everything, quite a bit recently, and – he closes the door, so is he in the Brown house, I guess? His old room? – after stuttering and hemming and hawing a bit, which works onscreen but doesn’t translate well to recappage, he apologizes for his behavior in the coffee shop. He now realizes how painful it must have been for her to tell the truth, and admits that he didn’t handle it well and wishes he could have responded better. He hopes that she’s well, and happy, “at least as happy as we can be, right?” Realizing how long this message is getting to be, he promises to hang up shortly, but apologizes once more, and thanks her “for everything.” He hangs up. Wow, that scene lost something in recap-translation.

Apartment. Bright is in the kitchen when he hears a knocking at the door, accompanied by Hannah first asking if he’s there, and then observing that she knows he’s there, anyway, since his truck is outside. Bright grimaces, and walks very, very slowly to the door. Once there, he leans his head against it for a moment, until Hannah knocks again and he has little choice but to let her in. She begins by saying that she’s spent the last two days thinking, “like, non-stop thinking,” which, judging from the tempo here, seems to have been accompanied by non-stop caffeine consumption. But I made it through seven seasons of Gilmore Girls and a lifetime of hearing myself speak; I can brave the 120-mile-a-minute monologue about to come. She continues that the constant thinking gave her a headache, and at this point Bright makes his first attempt to speak, but is cut off, as Hannah explains that she came to the realization that Bright was right. Bright shakes his head and fervently denies this, but Hannah insists that he was, that he was “just being honest and trying to figure it out,” which she herself was not doing. Bright sits at the counter and looks ill, again. Hannah continues that she thought all along that the party pretending was a compromise, “like, I had the whole thing rationalized in my brain: ‘compromises make relationships, blah blah blah blah blah.’” Did the voice saying that sound like Amy? Because she’s been known to offer relationship platitudes before. In any event, Hannah admits that that wasn’t what she was doing at all. Bright, noticing that the room’s suddenly grown eerily quiet, fills the void with a weak “It wasn’t?” Hannah, getting very enthusiastic, replies that “the truth is, I just didn’t want you to think I was that same dorky girl you became friends with last year. I thought that if you thought that, we never would have gotten this far. So I deliberately changed who I was, a little, to be someone who I thought you wanted, until I couldn’t remember, like, which was me, and which was faking...” – Bright actually smiles a little at her endearingly melodramatic delivery of this last part – “...Which is so ironic, since the only thing you ever wanted is for me to be myself!” She’s finally got it right, everything she got wrong in those first few eps of the season, and it’s too late. Stupid, brilliant show. Bright interjects, sounding as bad as he looks, that he “made a mistake,” but Hannah won’t let him go any further, as she exclaims that she, too, made a mistake. She says that she “freaked out” and left and tried to punish him by not returning his calls, but that she’s very sorry for all that, “because the only thing I know for sure in my life is that I love you. And I don’t ever want to lose you.” And this is where Bright’s initial plans fly right off the rails. He sincerely replies that he doesn’t want that, either, and Hannah insists they can make the relationship work, as long as they’re “totally honest with each other from now on, about everything.” Um. Hannah concludes that the two days she spent not talking to Bright were the worst of her life, and all she wants is to “pretend it never happened.” This is a sentiment with which Bright can most certainly agree, and as they hug, he offers a couple of “Me, too”s and...well, continues to look ill. You may as well get used to this, because it’s sort of de rigeur for the rest of the series, unless he’s looking pathetic.

Next time: Everwood is the universe’s right-hand of fate, and accounts are comin’ due for Harold, Reid, and Bright.