All the Lonely People

Apartment. Ephram’s on the phone with Kyle, assuring him that hot dogs from Gray’s Papaya are not actually made from papaya. Hee. He asks when Kyle’s mother will be arriving; after a few beats, he says that Kyle will be alone for a couple of days, but “that’ll be good for you, right? You’re always telling everybody to leave you alone anyway.” Ephram smirks a little and hastily adds a “just kidding, just kidding,” so it’s good to know Kyle hasn’t totally matured. Ephram, who’s been making his way around the apartment during this conversation, is now standing before the closed bathroom door. He pounds on it and yells Reid’s name, then turns back, informing Kyle that he’s running late and has to go. Before hanging up, he adds that Kyle will be fine, since he’s only auditing a class and will be home for the summer, and will look cool in the fall, as a full-time student who’s already familiar with Juilliard. Kyle suddenly hangs up, for some reason. After a moment of confusion, Ephram marches back over to the bathroom door and pounds on it again, observing that Reid’s been in there “forever,” and asking for “thirty seconds, I gotta brush my teeth, and then you can put all the hair gel in you want.” I feel sort of guilty about this, but, heh. We now hear the shower running; Ephram knocks a few more times and asks if Reid’s “kidding” him. He tries the doorknob, only to find that it’s locked. Ephram asks, sounding worried, if Reid’s all right; receiving no answer, he pounds again and calls Reid’s name. Finally, he (rather impressively) shoves the door open and finds Reid unconscious on the floor, an empty pill bottle next to him. Ephram kneels over Reid, rather unsure of what to do; noticing the bottle, he checks the label and, cell phone still in reach, calls Andy. Credits.

Hospital waiting room. Andy finishes talking with a doctor and walks over to Ephram, who asks what said doctor said, and if Reid will be all right. Andy says that he should be. Ephram worriedly checks for confirmation that he won’t have any kind of brain damage, but Andy assures him that Reid will be fine. Ephram mutters that he “can’t believe this is happening,” which is a phrase that I know I just typed somewhere in the last recap. Deja vu. Andy asks if Ephram had noticed any recent changes in Reid’s behavior, and if he had been relying heavily on the sleeping pills with which he was found. Ephram admits that he wasn’t even aware that Reid had been taking sleeping pills, or that he was depressed: “He always seemed so happy. He was always up at 6 AM, cooking or cleaning or reciting chemical formulas.” Again, that image is a tiny, tiny bit guilt-inducingly humorous. Ephram wonders if Andy is saying that he missed something. Andy quickly assures him that he’s not saying that at all, while Ephram adds, a little defensively, that Reid acted “so together.” Andy suggests that Reid may have been working hard to ensure that he appeared that way. Ephram believes that he should have been able to recognize that; Andy interjects a “No,” but Ephram insists that he should have, since he and Reid live together and occasionally talk, and thinks that Reid was probably asking for help without Ephram realizing it. Andy urges Ephram not to blame himself for Reid’s problems, reminding him that he was “there when Reid needed [him] most.” Ephram considers this, but doesn’t appear especially comforted by it.

Hey, it’s Harold and Bright! I’m...not sure how I feel about that at the moment. In any case, they’re entering a jewelry store, though Bright complains that he thought they were going out for lunch. Harold ignores him and greets ‘Winston,’ the store proprietor, asking mischievously if he might have anything with sapphires on special, which Winston says that he just might. Bright eyes Harold rather warily, then: “Oh, please tell me you’re not buying me, like, a man-bracelet or something. I really don’t see that cheering me up right now, Dad.” Eh. Though we last saw you stomping all over Hannah’s heart, you can still deliver a funny line. Hee, or something. Harold informs Bright that he’s more concerned with finding something for Rose, since “she’s been a bit blue” in the wake of the adoption fiasco. Bright muses that it seems as though everyone has the blues, and suggests that it might be “a viral thing. Like an epidermis.” Harold gives him an amused look and corrects him with “epidemic,” then, noticing Bright’s general glazed-over-ness, wonders why he even bothers. Heh. After perusing a few shelves, he returns to the counter, where Bright’s been stationed, and surmises, in confidential tones, that Bright hasn’t spoken with Hannah. Bright testily confirms this, noting that he left a message but that she hasn’t called back. Harold replies that he’s “surely” called more than once, but Bright asserts that Hannah made it “pretty clear” that she doesn’t want to talk to him. Harold, getting haughty, for some reason, wonders if Bright really thought it would be so easy. “Forgiveness is not won by crawling alone! Get up on your feet, man! Go forth! Show her that nothing can stop you!” Shut up, Harold. Bright says what I was rather thinking: “Isn’t that kind of like stalking?” Harold, amused again, calls it “courting,” and declares that the situation demands a grand gesture. Winston, who apparently keeps the sapphire pieces in the next town over, finally brings out a necklace for Harold, who oohs and aahs over it while even Bright gives it the once-over. Remember this. Harold asks Winston to wrap up the necklace and lay it away for the next day, which Winston agrees to do. Harold deems this “wonderful,” which sentiment Bright sarcastically echoes before asking if they can leave now. As they exit, Harold frowns and suggests that Bright drop the “hangdog attitude,” adding that he’s having trouble “mustering pity” for Bright given his actions. Bright rolls his eyes as Harold continues that Bright deserves to pay for his mistakes. Bright sighs that he knows this, but rolls his eyes some more as Harold, really getting into it, avers that he “won’t humor you behaving as though some great injustice has been done to you. You got yourself into this mess.” Bright, who’s already spent the last episode-and-a-half fairly aware of this fact, says again that he knows, and asks why Harold even wanted to spend time with him if he thinks he’s “such a jerk.” Oh, Bright, I've often asked myself the same thing in these post-Ada episodes. Harold, however, confesses that it was Rose’s idea. Bright replies that that was what he figured, and walks away, leaving Harold to pick up the eye-rolling slack.

Jake and Nina in bed. Not like that. Jake’s writing something, and asks Nina which sounds better: that he was “driven” or “compelled” to create a program “for people like me.” He frets that the latter sounds too similar to “compulsive,” while Nina observes that the “people like me” is a little unclear, then flirtatiously speculates that he means people who are “gorgeous." Jake smiles, and says that he wants to be motivational without actually sounding like a motivational speaker. Then might I suggest that you stop using catchphrases like “if you think you’re gonna fall, call”? Just a word of advice. Jake, however, notes that he will be delivering this speech in L.A., and so “the cheese factor could work in my favor!” Nina asks if his trip is the following week, though Jake says that it’s actually that Thursday. Nina’s a little taken aback, observing that he just returned from Phoenix [I think; it could have been “Philly,” and there’s a slight possibility that she actually said “Finland.” In which case, dang, Jake. I’m impressed]. Jake admits that it’s been “crazy,” but that there’s a lot of interest in what he’s doing. He adds, by way of explanation for his L.A. excursion, that his old partner has invited him to speak to a group of doctors about the program. Nina, who’s heard this whole story before, concludes that he has to “see where it leads,” and rather passive-aggressively remarks that she had told Andy they’d have dinner with him Friday, but will now have to reschedule. Jake, who’s clearly made some progress since the beginning of the season, encourages Nina and Sam to go without him. Sam himself now enters, furiously scratching his head. Nina asks if he shouldn’t be in bed, but Sam complains that he can’t sleep, because his head is too itchy. Jake reminds Sam to rinse his hair well when he showers, lest he have to return to taking baths. I really can’t believe neither of them is picking up on the possible import of Sam’s Itchy Head, because I had the cause of it pegged the first time this scene even aired. Clearly they haven’t watched enough old family sitcoms. Sam asks if he can get join Nina and Jake in bed; though Nina gives him a cautionary “Sammy...,” Jake invites him over and turns on the TV. Nina glares at Jake. While Sam gets a pillow and makes himself comfortable at the foot of the bed, Nina whispers to Jake that they can’t keep letting Sam do this, as it’s apparently “becoming a habit.” Jake breezily replies that Nina should have said something before Sam climbed in, ha ha! Nina smirks a little, impressed by Jake’s general obliviousness.

Apartment, where Bright and Amy are hanging out when Ephram enters. Amy asks where Ephram’s been, since he said he’d be there a half-hour earlier and she has a research paper to write. Bright adds that he has “places to go” [oh, come on, Bright. Where? Where would you be going at this hour? What, to Nina’s, to stand outside Hannah’s window, holding up a boombox with your one good hand? Which would probably result in Hannah’s throwing something heavy at you? You may as well stay home, dude]. Ephram informs them that he’s been at the hospital, but, before saying anything further, asks if Hannah’s there. Amy says that she couldn’t make it, because she “has...a class, or something.” I am so confused right now. What time of night is it if Amy thinks of using that as a lie, yet it’s already bedtime in the Jake and Nina household? In any event, Bright scoffs at Amy’s excuse; Amy explains that “it’s hard” for Hannah, though Bright rebuts that it’s hard for him, too. Ephram decides to cut the tension by announcing that Reid tried to kill himself. Amy and Bright are shocked. Ephram recounts the morning’s events, concluding that the doctor has said he’ll be okay, but that he hasn’t yet awoken. The Abbott sibs stand silently, still stunned. Ephram concedes that there’s “no possible normal way to talk about this.” Amy thinks that it “doesn’t make any sense.” Bright agrees, noting Reid’s incessant cheerfulness. Ephram, who’s already had this conversation, guesses that he wasn’t so happy after all. Amy wonders what they should do: go to the hospital right away, “or...wait, and...send flowers? Is there anything you can do that isn’t completely stupid?” Ephram suggests that the only thing they can do is to be his friend when he returns. Bright, sounding more than a little freaked, asks if Reid’s coming back “here?” Off Amy’s look, Bright continues that “it just seems...” and concludes that he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He paces a little, and asks, looking disgusted [hey! At least he doesn’t look ill], if Ephram “just found him? In that bathroom? On the ground.” Ephram confirms this, and Bright marvels that he doesn’t know how Ephram did it, and that he’s glad it wasn’t him; “I mean, I know that probably sounds sick and all, but...dude, what is up with life right now?” Amy interjects that it’s “okay,” though what she perceives to be “okay” I’m not entirely sure, as everything does sort of suck in the Everworld at the moment. And indeed, Bright continues that things are “not okay, it’s obviously not okay. Not for anybody.” He suddenly declares that he needs to “get some air” and quickly departs from the apartment. Once Bright’s soothing presence is gone, Amy asks how Ephram is. Ephram replies that he’s “good,” if a little freaked out and jittery, but that he mostly just feels guilty. Amy wonders why; Ephram explains that if anyone could have seen this coming, it should have been him. Amy asks, a bit pointedly, if that’s because “it’s up to you to save everybody?” Though, Amy’s one to talk. In any case, Ephram replies that it’s because he and Reid were friends, or, at least, they talked. Amy reminds Ephram that she, too, talked to Reid, and even dated him. Ephram takes this opening to mutter that if he hadn’t “screwed that up,” the suicide attempt would probably never have occurred. Amy, presently unaware of that whole mess from way earlier in the season, assures Ephram that he had nothing to do with the fizzling out of Amy/Reid, as Reid was just too busy with school and work. Ephram, however, adds to the list with “and because I asked him to.” Amy stares at him, and after a moment Ephram continues that it was long ago, even before the postcard love confession. He furrows his brow and mutters about how “stupid” it all seems now. Amy rather unnecessarily remarks that she never knew. Ephram sighs that it was a mistake, and one he’ll have to regret for the rest of his life. Amy glances at him and reiterates that it wasn’t his fault, particularly as Reid didn’t have to listen to Ephram. Ephram stares at her a moment, apparently astonished by this notion, as Amy continues that if Reid had really wanted to keep seeing her, he could have made the choice to do so. “And even if he did make that choice, it doesn’t mean that I could have saved him from something like this. This is bigger than one person.” Ephram, of course, disagrees, and I just realized that he’s very Andy-like in this episode. I just got this now. Two years later. Amy observes that everyone has problems, and that the trials of med school can’t be worse than what Ephram went through with the baby news, yet Ephram survived. Ephram points out that he had Amy during that crisis, though Amy thinks that she clearly wasn’t of much help. Ephram, though, insists that she was, and that he couldn’t have gotten through any of it without her. Amy takes this in, and, after a moment, Ephram continues that “it makes a big difference knowing that there’s at least one person in the world that has your back, no matter what. I mean, it doesn’t have to be the same person for your entire life, but...everybody deserves at least one someone.” Ephram concludes that he should have been that person for Reid. Amy gazes at him sadly before putting her arm around him, and the two sit quietly on the back of the couch.

Sam’s. Nina finishes a conversation with a waitress and walks up to Andy, who’s getting himself some coffee. Quite a bit of it, actually, as Nina observes. Andy explains that he spent the night at the hospital with Ephram, a statement which, of course, alarms Nina. Andy assures her that Ephram is fine, but explains the Reid situation. Nina remarks sympathetically that Ephram must have been terrified. Andy thinks he’s still in shock. Nina rather opportunistically replies that if Andy wants to cancel the next evening’s dinner plans, she would understand. Andy insists, however, that he and Delia are both looking forward to it, and that Delia’s even cooking! Oy. Nina smirks a “really,” and tells Andy to inform Delia that she’ll have one fewer person for whom to cook, as Jake will be in L.A. Andy asks if Jake wasn’t out of town the previous weekend as well; Nina replies with a tight smile. Andy offers his sympathy, but says he’s sure everything will “settle down once everything’s up and running.” Nina offers an “absolutely, definitely,” indicating her total lack of confidence in that occurring. Andy confirms their dinner plans, and adds that Delia’s making chicken cacciatore, “so, yeah. I would eat first.” Heh. Andy departs, leaving Nina to look pensive.

Hannah knocks on the Abbott door. Rose answers and, after a pleasant greeting, gently asks how she is. Hannah truthfully replies that she’s not good, and asks if Amy’s there. Amy is, in fact, still at school; Rose asks if they were supposed to meet. Hannah admits that she’s a little early, and offers to come back later, but Rose laughs and invites her in, promising cocoa and tissues. Hannah appreciates the offer of the latter. Once settled in the living room, Hannah notices a set of slides on the table and asks what they’re for. Rose, declaring that Hannah is the first to know, explains that they’re for her new job at an art museum in Colorado Springs. She concludes that there’s little pay involved, but the opportunity to spend the day looking at Cezanne “does wonders for the spirit.” Hannah smiles sadly, and observes that “it must be nice, having something to look forward to.” Man. Seriously, Depressed!Hannah sounds...exactly like I have every day since graduating from college last year. Though, Hannah sounds worse, as she concludes that she remembers what it was like to wake up, “not wanting to poke my eyes out.” Rose, concerned, settles on the couch across from Hannah and remarks that Bright “looks far worse” than Hannah does. Hannah deems this “good,” though she quickly clarifies that though it’s not actually good that Bright looks bad [yes it is], it’s better than if he looked good, which would be “awful” and “wrong.” Rose chuckles that she understands, but Hannah, interpreting this more broadly than Rose intended, declares that she doesn’t understand, “any of it,” and starts to wonder why Bright did it. She cuts herself off in the middle of this last thought, though, and apologizes. Rose suddenly asks if Hannah exercises. Hannah is appropriately flummoxed, but, after a moment, replies that she used to enjoy her Jazzercise tapes, but left them in Minnesota, and asks why Rose asked. Rose explains that she wondered if Hannah had any outlet for her emotions. Hannah laughs a “besides crying them out?” Rose was thinking more of Hannah’s anger than her sadness, and how she could “release [her] aggression,” because otherwise she might end up... Hannah, laughing bitterly, finishes Rose’s thought: “Killing Bright with my bare hands? Strangling him ‘til his eyes pop out and his tongue rolls out of his mouth like a cartoon puppy dog?” Dude. BitterlyHumorousAndHomicidal!Hannah is kind of awesome. Rose anticlimactically replies that she was going to say “developing an ulcer.” Hannah stands and starts to pace, remarking that she’s never really had to deal with anger before, nor has she ever really felt it, as she’s a “fairly mild person.” Rose: “That is why God invented decorative pillows.” Holding one, she walks over to Hannah and invites her to hit it. Hannah laughs, but gives it a solid whack; this was apparently just what she needed after all, as her expression grows fierce and she marvels “Wow.” Rose nods knowingly. Hannah gazes at the pillow a moment before giving it another punch, this time with narration: "Hi, I'm Bright. [whack] I like to eat with my mouth open." BWAH! Hannah punctuates this all-too-accurate statement with another punch. Rose, suddenly looking nervous, agrees that Bright “does get a little enthusiastic.” Hannah continues to whale on the poor pillow, declaring that Bright doesn’t care about manners “because he thinks he’s so cute, and he always. Gets. What he wants!” Rose looks truly frightened now. “And he lied to me! And he cheated on me! And he broke! My! Heart!” Well, that went from funny to devastating in about six seconds. Rose drops the pillow and embraces Hannah, who’s now sobbing. After several moments, they separate, and Rose asks if Hannah doesn’t feel better now. Hannah, still crying, admits that she does, a little, and then wonders why, if she hates Bright as much as she presently does, she isn’t happy that it’s over. Rose leads Hannah over to the sofa, and observes that it’s because she still loves Bright, as confusing as it may seem. She advises Hannah that if she wavers between getting back together with him and moving on, she has to determine if she can forgive him. Hannah asks if Rose thinks she should, but Rose asserts that it’s not her call; “If you can, you’ll find your way back. If you can’t, and you get back together just because you miss him right now, you’ll only wind up resenting him later on. And...no amount of love can conquer that.” She puts an arm around Hannah and draws her in for another hug. And in case it really needs to be said, Rose=love.

Reid’s hospital room, where Reid is sleeping. Ephram opens the door to find a middle-aged woman sitting by his bedside; upon seeing Ephram, she rises and follows him to the hallway. Ephram correctly surmises that she’s Reid’s mother, and she introduces herself as ‘Angela,’ for which I’m thankful, because it saves me the trouble of posting yet another recap that refers to a character as “____’sMom/Dad” or by the actor’s name, Jayne. Ephram introduces himself and asks if Reid’s woken up yet. Angela says that he was briefly awake when first brought in, but has been either asleep or “just keeping his eyes closed” for the rest of the time, probably because he’s not ready to talk. Angela, realizing that she has no idea to whom she’s disclosing this information, asks if Ephram is a classmate of Reid’s. Ephram explains that he’s a roommate; Angela accepts this, then, after a beat, realizes that he’s the one who found Reid. Ephram quietly confirms this, prompting Angela to apologize and give him a big hug, catching Ephram very much off-guard. It’s another of those sort of uncomfortably funny moments. Post-hug, Angela glumly remarks that she should have known who Ephram was, and “should have known a lot of things.” In her effort to catch up, she asks if Ephram can tell her why Reid was expelled. Ephram, in fact, did not know about the expulsion at all, and asks when it happened. All Angela knows is what Reid told her: that she won’t “have to worry about med school bills anymore.” She smiles grimly for a moment before admitting that she doesn’t know what to say to Reid when he awakens. Ephram thinks that Reid will just be happy that she’s there, which prompts Angela to embark on another personal guilt trip, asking if Ephram means “because I haven’t been here the whole rest of the time?” Ephram assures her that he didn’t mean that. Angela nods and confesses that she hasn’t slept and so isn’t sure what she’s saying anymore, but just keeps “rewinding all of the months and the years, looking for hints.” She beats herself up some more for failing to call or write or visit with any frequency. “What do moms do? They send care packages.” Ephram replies, truthfully and heartbreakingly, that he “wouldn’t know.” Angela, who is not a viewer of this show and thus can hear this without bursting into tears for Ephram, continues that she always thought Reid was “bright and driven” as well as happy; “it never occurred to me that my son could be lonely. What could be worse than that?” Ephram is deeply thoughtful for a moment – AKA “normal” – and finally tells Angela that he’s sorry. Angela tells Ephram it’s not his fault, as she’s Reid’s mother and therefore responsible for being there and knowing about his problems. Then...we cut right to commercial. Nice transition there!

Harold, accompanied by the requisite music, strides into the jewelry store and declares that he’s there for his “trinket.” Winston asks if Harold is sure he didn’t pick it up already. Harold, amused, is “fairly certain, unless I’ve been on some sort of mind-blowing bender that would prevent me from recalling my own actions, but I think we can safely say that is far from the case.” True; I’m pretty sure he hasn’t been hanging out with Bill Schmicker of late. Winston apologizes and explains that one of his employees sold the necklace that morning; Winston assumed it was to Harold, but guesses now that it wasn’t. (He “guesses”? Winston’s a little slow.) Harold appears momentarily puzzled; what could ever have become of it? Who would just happen to make that purchase so soon after Harold put the item on layaway? Who? Who could it be?

A certain doofus holds out the necklace in question. Hannah asks what it’s for; Bright replies that it’s for her. Hannah, not at all pleased, asks what he’s doing. Bright explains that he saw it and thought it was “beautiful,” and figured that since he can’t say the right thing, “even when I write it down ahead of time,” he may as well show how he feels by giving her a stolen necklace, not that he admits that last bit. This is actually more embarrassing than the "Put on a Happy Face" rap performance. Wow. Hannah walks away from him – they’re in the Nina living room, incidentally – and refuses the gift, asserting that it’s “not fair” for Bright to come by and say anything, and is “selfish” to make her see him, asking if he understands how hard it is for her. Bright protests, again, that it’s hard for him as well, though Hannah makes the reasonable point that Bright’s the responsible party. Bright says, again, that he knows this [Bright has a lot of recycled dialogue this episode, you’ll notice], but then goes on to say that he’s trying to figure out why he did it; “I know there must be a reason! No one screws up like this without a reason.” Hannah gapes for a moment before asking, slightly skeptical and slightly appalled, what the reason is. Bright stutters that he doesn’t know, but then suggests, pathetically, that he might have been scared. Hannah, wowed by the lameness of this proposal, laughs bitterly some more. Bright, however, proceeds to turn this into an actual, highly revealing explanation: “You’re perfect, Hannah.” Hannah scoffs again, as Bright continues. “I could never see you ever doing anything to ever screw us up. You know, which meant that we were just gonna keep going on the way we were going, or, I was gonna blow it. And maybe, ’cause I’m thinking about, y’know, how or when that’s gonna happen, the pressure was too much...” Hannah is clearly furious and deems this “bull,” but I...sort of think Bright’s right here. Not for trying to explain his behavior, because of course Hannah doesn’t actually want to hear that right now. But the idea that things were going too well, and that Bright feared he would screw things up, to such an extent that he eventually did? Isn’t “screwing things up and realizing that he screws things up” one of Bright’s defining traits? Combine that with his remarks in a number of episodes about not deserving Hannah, and, yeah, works for me. Hannah tries to make her way to the kitchen, but Bright cuts her off at the pass. Hannah asks why things couldn’t have stayed as they were, and why Bright had to mess them up. Bright doesn’t have an answer this time. Hannah observes that he made a choice, though Bright insists that it wasn’t a “thinking choice,” but an “impulse.” Hannah is quick to reply that she wasn’t referring to “that,” as it makes her “sick” to think about it. Just be glad you didn’t have to recap it. Bright wonders what the issue is, then. Hannah is, as it happens, more concerned with the two days they spent apart, as she had thought they both spent that time thinking: “I was thinking. About what we could do to make things better, about how I could show you that I love you. I was up in my room thinking that this was all my fault. And you were with her.” Bright is very contrite and sincerely says that he's “so, so incredibly sorry,” and adds that if there’s anything he can do... Hannah informs him, however, that there’s nothing he can do or say or buy, and, what’s more, doesn’t think “there ever will be.” Finally: “I don’t think I can forgive you, Bright.” Bright now looks worse than he has at any point in the past three episodes, though it’s nothing compared to what we’ll get in "Enjoy the Ride."

Brown Kitchen. Chicken cacciatore all over the place. Did you see three of those last four scenes, show? I am not in the mood for wacky right now. Gah. But FINE, here’s some wacky. Whatever. So Delia sets plates of said chicken in front of those assembled at the table; Nina gives a phony and fairly unconvincing “Mmmm...” while Andy simply stares at his plate. Delia admits that it doesn’t quite resemble the picture in the cookbook. Andy replies that “it looks...” Nina saves him by declaring that it looks “even better!” Andy nods enthusiastically. Sam scratches his head. Delia, retrieving the last two plates, remarks that she doesn’t know why people bother cooking, as it takes “six hours to make a chicken, but only five minutes to eat it!” Okay, I’ve been a vegetarian since the age of 11, but I also read cookbooks for fun and have been raised by people who actually know how to cook meat. Did she forget to defrost it or something? Guess no one can accuse her of undercooking a thing, at least. Andy takes a bite and chews. And chews. And chews some more. Nina, also chewing busily, chastises Sam for continuing to scratch his head. Sam insists that he can’t help it, as he’s itchy. Nina informs Andy of Sam’s supposed shower/shampoo issues. Delia: “Ew!” Hee. Andy decides to take a look at Sam’s scalp, and quickly discovers that Sam doesn’t have a “Pantene problem,” but lice. Duh. Andy rubs his fingers together, examining Sam’s little friends. Delia leaps up from the table and offers another excellent “eeew!” while Sam gleefully proclaims that he has “bug hair!” Nina frets that she “must be the worst mother in the world! I’m going to jail!” Andy assures her that anyone could have missed it; “it makes perfect sense that you simply thought your child was unclean!” Hee. Nina insists that it’s not funny, but Andy and I agree that it is. Aw, the wackiness is welcome after all. Sam excitedly asks if this means he’ll have to shave his head “like a soldier?” Nina explains that they’ll just have to wash... “Everything,” Andy finishes, as he marches Sam off to the Nina house. Nina asks about the dishes, but Andy is “sure they’ll self-destruct in a matter of seconds.” Nina follows Andy and Sam, cringing all the way.

Reid’s hospital room, again. Ephram enters; Reid, now awake, glances up and greets him. Ephram, making his way to the bedside, asks how he is. Reid likens his condition to “having a horrible hangover without any of the fun.” He adds that he heard Ephram was the one to find him, and apologizes. Ephram assures him that it’s “cool,” and that he’s glad that Reid is okay. Reid, though, wonders how okay he is. He stares up and remarks that he’s been trying to figure out how it happened, as it might seem like something one plans but that it “wasn’t like that” for him. Ephram asks what it was like, then. Reid says some things we already basically know: things seemed fine at the beginning of the school year, but, midway through, he started to fall behind and couldn’t catch up as he’d been able to do in the past; hence, he resorted to cheating, though he had no intentions of “mak[ing] a habit of it.” Then he got caught, felt like he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t imagine facing his parents, friends, or himself. Ephram reminds Reid that everyone messes up, and remarks that Andy knew guys who failed the MCATs multiple times. Reid, though, insists that he couldn’t let that happen, as his med school endeavors were about more than just him, since he was ultimately doing it to help his brother. He continues that while he’s failed before, he’s never cheated, and marvels over how easy it was to do: “And that’s what scared me. All of a sudden I didn’t even know who I was anymore. So it didn’t seem like that big of a deal to just...stop being anything.” Ephram wishes he had known about all this, but Reid replies that Ephram never would have known, because Reid would never have told him. Ephram asks why; Reid says it’s “stupid,” but that he never told anyone the truth about how he was because he didn’t want anyone to worry, and so grew used to being left alone: “And then I was. I woke up one morning and I was completely alone. That was my fault, Ephram. I put myself there. Out of pride, out of stupidity, probably both. But I did it to myself, man.” This was really foreshadowed all the way back with Reid’s first appearance, wasn’t it? When he tells Bright that, after a certain point, it’s hard to make new friends? Oh, Reid, even you now have the power to make me *sniffle*. Ephram considers this, and asks what Reid plans to do now. Reid doesn’t know, but guesses he’ll be starting over.

Bedroom of Sexy Lice-Picking. Nina, in a bathrobe, is sitting at the vanity and examining her (freshly-washed) hair. Andy enters and declares their work done, “unless you’ve got lice in your spice rack. Then you’re on your own.” Nina wearily asks what time it is; all Andy knows is that it’s “late,” and that “Delia’s probably halfway to Montana in a hazmat suit by now.” Heh. And, probably true. Nina is sorry about the ruined dinner, but Andy’s not, as it might mean Delia will be too scarred by the experience to ever cook again. Andy asks if Nina’s okay, which Nina emphatically declares she is not. Scratching her head, she moves over to the bed and says that despite washing her hair three times, she can feel “crawling.” Andy now offers to examine her scalp, and sits down behind her on the bed. After about one second, his examination turns into something more along the lines of an inappropriately romantic scalp massage; though they both enjoy this for a few more seconds, Andy stops and stutters out multiple apologies, as does Nina. Andy says that he should go, and starts to stand, but Nina takes his hand and tells him to wait. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before Nina admits that she doesn’t know what she’s saying or doing. She continues that they spent four hours washing all the linens and wrangling Sam into a bath, “and I haven’t felt better in months;” meanwhile, “the man I live with, who I’m supposedly sharing my life with, isn’t really in the picture. Or, at least, I can’t find him there.” Andy suggests that she and Jake are just going through a “rough patch,” but Nina says that she’s been telling herself that, and excusing things based on the fact that Jake’s been traveling. Andy reiterates that Jake has been traveling, which is really Nina’s point: Shutup Carl used to travel, too, so what is it about her that inspires the men in her life to leave? Andy meaningfully replies that “not all the men” do. Nina knows, and, after a few moments, continues that there’s a “distance” between she and Jake even when he’s at home, with each involved in his or her own thing like an “old married couple” who aren’t even married. Andy interjects a “yet,” but Nina wonders when that will happen. She goes on to note that Jake is supposed to be her “go-to guy,” which, she concludes, “he is – except for all the times that he’s not.” Andy lamely tells her that “relationships are hard.” Wow, really had to go deep for that one, eh, Andy? Nina wonders if they’re supposed to be “this hard,” as certain other “situations” seem easier sometimes. She gazes at Andy to underline her point. Andy asks if she still loves Jake, as that’s what will get them through the difficulties. Nina takes her sweet time in responding, but finally admits that, though she does love him, she wonders if its possible to “be in love with two people at the same time?” Andy suddenly looks hopeful, but in a slightly dour way, and replies that he’s not sure. Neither is Nina. They stare at each other and take us right into the commercials.

The next day; still Nina and Jake’s bedroom, now Andy-free. Nina is hanging up clothes while, unbeknownst to her, Jake is creeping through the open bedroom door. Good thing he didn’t decide to surprise her last night. He finally throws down his luggage and sweeps Nina into a big happy hug. Nina observes that he’s home early, and Jake explains that he just couldn’t wait to be back home with she and Sam. Nina asks how things went; everything was great, but Jake especially enjoyed having the chance to be in L.A. again, and tells Nina that she has to come with him “next time.” Nina asks if he has to take another trip soon, but Jake is actually referring to a “special trip” with Nina. Nina smiles her appreciation. Jake continues that he told his mother the previous night that he “couldn’t wait to get back home;” Nina makes a joke about airfare, but Jake insists that he couldn’t wait to return home to Nina. During the flight, he explains, he came to the realization that he was living his life “backwards,” trying to get his career on-track before anything else. He cites Nina’s marriage talk; Nina interjects that it was “too soon,” but Jake thinks that it might not be, after all, and that there might not be such a thing as a “right time.” He concludes that he doesn’t have to spend as much time as he has been on the program, as its potential failure wouldn’t be the end of the world; the potential failure of his relationship with Nina, because he hasn’t invested enough time in it, would be. Nina, in awe, thinks that it “must have been some plane ride!” They kiss; afterwards, Jake tells her he loves her. Nina sincerely returns the sentiment. She returns to the closet, this time to retrieve a coat, while Jake asks what he missed. Nina does not mention the head-caressing or the fact that she basically declared her love to Andy, but merely tells him about Sam’s lice and the fact that she [leaving Andy out of it] had to spend the evening bleaching and boiling everything. She looks down, suddenly quite pensive, prompting Jake to ask if she’s okay. Nina responds with a distracted “hmmm?” so Jake reiterates his question, adding that she seems “funny.” Nina replies, rather fakely, that she’s “great,” and just missed Jake. She kisses him again, for good measure. Jake says that he missed Nina, too, and they hug, while Nina looks guilty.

Harold is sitting on the couch in the Abbott living room, reading the paper. Bright enters the house and glances at Harold before starting to lumber off down the hallway. Harold greets him with a relatively stern “Hello, Son,” to which Bright responds with a dejected “Hello, Father.” Fun abounds in the Abbott household! Harold takes a few steps in Bright’s direction and remarks that he had an “interesting run-in at the jewelers.” Bright knows he’s caught. Harold continues that he would tell Bright all about it, except that Bright’s been avoiding him, and he suspects the two things are related. Bright admits to having the necklace, and retrieves it from his coat pocket. Harold, disappointed if unsurprised, wonders what Bright was thinking, as he knew it was Harold’s gift for Rose. Bright, looking and sounding ill again, deems himself “awful” and continues that “everybody hates me, so why don’t we just leave it at that?” He heads to the kitchen, with Harold in pursuit. Once there, Bright ogles a plate of brownies while Harold opines that he hardly thinks everyone hates Bright. For Bright, though, all that really matters is that “Hannah does.” He goes on, wearily, that he knows he has no right to be upset because it was his fault and the necklace move was lame. “Nothing against the necklace, I’m sure Mom’s going to love it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m a bad person.” Harold assures Bright that he’s not a bad person; “your impulses may not always be the best, but they’re always honest. You have a good heart, and at the end of the day, that’s all you can ask for.” Bright, unconvinced, asks if Rose told him to say all of that. Harold laughs and denies this, though admits that Rose has always understood Bright better than he has and always known what to do, “while I’ve been at a loss more times than I care to admit, because...well, the fact is I’m a little jealous of you.” Bright is now convinced that Harold is “messing with” him. Harold, however, is totally not, as he proceeds to enumerate Bright’s more admirable attributes that he himself lacks, such as Bright’s “ability to make friends at the drop of a hat” and the way he approaches life with “an ease and natural social grace.” Oh, Harold. You’ve never watched him eat, have you? Bright asks if Harold’s referring to the time he headed the Elks Club. Harold reminds him that it was the “Bighorns” and that they “passed [him] over.” Bright looks sad, though probably more for himself than for Harold’s social failures. After a few moments, Harold decides to confess something: “As difficult as I know things have been for you of late, I’ve been waiting for a moment like this between the two of us.” Bright’s like, “Really. Great.” Harold continues that he always hoped he would have something useful to say to Bright, and that Bright would need him, but thought, after the “camping debacle,” that the time for that had passed and Bright no longer needed him. Bright’s all “Dad,” but, Bright? I kind of want to hear the rest of what he has to say, so, shut up. Harold concludes that he just wanted to be able to give Bright something, “because the fact of the matter is, you have taught me a great deal.” Bright is intrigued. Harold says that Bright’s taught him to laugh and to take himself less seriously. Then, the capper: “I admire you.” Bright actually smiles, a little, but it's mingled with his general appearance of unwellness. Harold gently asks if he’s okay. Bright shakes his head and says that he doesn’t know, as “everything’s been so messed up.” Harold urges him to “come here” and takes his now-teary son into a hug. Harold pats him on the shoulder a few times and says that they’ll get through it, “I promise you,” and ruffles his hair very paternally. And I...I... Sorry, I seem to be just a little...overcome... It’s no big... Oh, heck. I LOVE YOU, HAROLD! AND I STILL LOVE YOU, TOO, BRIGHT! I HOPE I CAN STOP SHOUTING SOON! I know [oh, there we go] the show was, at its core, about Andy and Ephram’s relationship, but truly, Harold and Bright’s was always the one that really got to me. Clearly. *wipes eyes*

Apparently Andy and Ephram heard me and aren’t pleased, because here they are. Andy enters the apartment bearing empty luggage for Ephram, who is packing. Andy asks if he should be concerned that Ephram’s suddenly decided to leave town. Not unless you paid off any other knocked up ex-girlfriends, Andy. Ephram explains that he’s going to New York for a few days to see Kyle and get him acclimated to his new surroundings. Andy remarks that Kyle will only be there for a few weeks, but Ephram wants to ensure that he isn’t too overwhelmed by Juilliard. Andy appears a little dubious about all this, and observes that though he knows everything with Reid “must have had a profound effect” on him... Ephram cuts in that it did, and that Andy is right. Andy notes that he hasn’t actually said anything yet, but Ephram knows just what he’s thinking: “You were gonna say that because of what happened with Reid, that’s why I suddenly want to go and make sure Kyle’s okay. You know what? You’re probably right.” Andy’s all, “Okay...” as Ephram continues that Reid was not his responsibility, but he feels that Kyle is, in a way: “I think about him out there, all by himself, probably crawling back into that shell that I tried so hard to break him out of.” Ephram concludes that he just wants to make sure Kyle’s all right without Kyle having to ask. (Psst, Ephram – you do know that my love for you is in no way diminished by my affection for Harold and Bright, right? Wouldn’t want you to think otherwise.) Andy nods a bit, accepting this, and asks if Ephram’s set with classes, which Ephram is, as he’s even packing his textbooks. (Seriously, Ephram, just for that: I LOVE YOU.) Andy asks when Ephram will be back; Ephram points him towards a piece of paper that contains all his travel info, and further informs him that he’ll be staying with the grandparents, will be visiting his friend Vince, whose number Ephram’s already left for Andy, and will leave his cellphone on at all times, in case of emergency. Andy, pouting a little, asks if Ephram won’t call just to say hi. Ephram: “Yeah, I know you get withdrawals, but you’re gonna be okay, all right?” Andy smiles a bit and says that he’ll just call Ephram. Ephram smiles, too. Aw. You guys get to me, too, you know.

And it’s at emotionally-charged times like this that things tend to get a little musical. Deb Talan’s “Comfort” starts up, and here we go: Reid in his hospital bed; he awakens to notice his mother asleep at his bedside, her hand on his arm, which he then holds [her hand, not his own arm]. Jake gives Sam a fedora that he apparently bought him as a souvenir; Sam and Jake and Nina are all very happy. Andy settles down on the Brown living room couch with a big bowl of popcorn; Delia joins him on the couch, and they wage a very civil battle with the remote, in which Delia is ultimately victorious. In the Abbott kitchen, Rose and Harold are plying Bright with an ice cream sundae and brownies. Hannah lies on her bed, concluding a phone conversation with Amy. She checks her watch and makes another call, this time to her mother; though she initially claims to be okay, she quickly admits that she isn’t and asks if they can talk. Finally, Amy drops Ephram off at the bus depot; halfway through the parking lot, he turns back and waves goodbye, which Amy reciprocates, adding a “call me” gesture. Ephram, mildly surprised, returns the gesture, and then positively beams. He resumes his walk toward the bus, which pulls out just about the second he gets on. The bus drives along, Amy watching.

Whew. I would just like to emulate virtually every single character and extend my own apology, to this episode. I saw it first-run, and again in syndication, and in both cases considered it one of the weaker of this last batch of generally brilliant episodes. But watching it again? It’s lovely and resonates so much more deeply than “Truth,” which I’m always claiming as a favorite. So, “All the Lonely People”? I am so, so incredibly sorry.

Next time: Justin Kirk guest stars as the saddest (but in the best possible way) MEoW ever; Amy, Reid, Hannah, and an Australian version of Bright go bowling, with expectedly dreadful results; and American Bright reaches new levels of heart-wrenching pathetic...ness. In other words: Damn you, Mimoun.*

*(Just thought it was time to give a little credit where showrunning credit is due.)

Truth

Huh. Two months after all. Though, it might be worth noting that this is, officially, my longest recap -- 16 pages in Word! Have fun! Set aside an entire day or so!

Previously on Everwood: Harold lied about Rose’s cancer on the adoption papers! Reid cheated on a test! Bright slept with YarnHo! (Didn’t actually need to see that and hear her “sexual peak” line again, “Previously On” clips!)

Presently on Everwood: Bright and Hannah are sitting at a table at Sam’s. Bright, for some peculiar reason, really, really wants to get out of Everwood for a weekend. Hannah thinks the suggestion sounds “crazy,” but Bright says it would be fun: they could go to the mountains, or New Mexico, or Italy! Apparently on Bright, remorse looks something akin to ADD. Hannah is rather dubious about that last idea, though Bright notes that it would work if they robbed a bank or stole a car or plane. Hannah is amused, but also asks if Bright’s okay, as he’s “acting a little weirder than usual.” Bright’s all “Noooo!” but then realizes that Hannah actually asked a question, and replies that he’s okay, just goofing around. Ephram strides over to the table with what he describes as a “very rare” white chocolate chip muffin, the acquisition of which almost necessitated his doing bodily harm to an old lady. Hannah laughs at this. Enjoy the mirth while you can, Han. Bright suddenly asks if she’s ever been to “Peak Falls,” which she has not; he describes it as a “beautiful” two-mile hike. Hannah, growing enthusiastic about the idea, says that she could pack a picnic, which idea Bright loves, probably because it offers the promise of sandwiches. Ephram is feeling a little ignored and asks what the “occasion” is. Bright gets particularly cheesy, because that is evidently another way in which his remorse manifests itself, and asks if he needs “some kind of occasion to hang out with my giirrrl?” which cheesiness he and Hannah cap off with a kiss. Ephram astutely observes that he doesn’t, “but you need a special occasion to use the term ‘my girl.’ I don’t think this is it.” Hannah, sounding quite sincere, actually invites Ephram along on the Peak Falls excursion. Ephram: “No! That’s okay. I think the thought of me picnicking with you guys takes the whole ‘third wheel’ thing to a new level I’m not comfortable with.” Heh. Though, awkward as that scene would be, I might consider bearing its children. Hannah declares that they need to find someone for Ephram, and asks if Bright knows of anyone. Bright thinks about this, when who should walk in but -- Ada! Crazy! Ephram: “That was fast.” Hannah, noticing her, remarks that she was thinking more along the lines of “someone smarter, sweeter.” Meow. As Ada distributes flyers to different tables, Ephram realizes that he and Bright know her, and asks what her name is. Bright, naturally, denies any knowledge. Ephram insists that Bright does know, because he’s the one who took Ephram to get the fake ID from her in the first place. Bright shakes his head, while Ephram finally remembers the name, and greets her. Ada glances over and, upon spotting Bright, says hi and eagerly strolls over. Bright quickly stands and introduces himself, as well as "my girlfriend, Hannah." Ada looks slightly chagrined, but shakes hands with Hannah, who keeps the cattiness in check. Ephram stands and dorkily introduces himself, adding “you probably remember me as Gus Wahlberg.” Ada, who, in a line I neglected to include in the previous recap, once claimed that she never forgets a customer, looks confused. Ephram says that it’s okay, then: “Muffin?” Ada happily, if somewhat puzzledly, accepts his white chocolate-laden offering. Hannah notices Ada's flyers and asks about Stitch and Bitch. Ada, apparently always eager to drum up business no matter how uncomfortable the situation, defines it as a knitting circle, and invites Hannah to come by sometime. Hannah replies that it sounds like fun, while Bright glares at Ada intensely. Ephram sees this, as well as Ada’s expression that seems to say ‘Hey, I’m, uh, making an effort...because inviting your girlfriend to join my knitting group totally makes up for the yarn seduction,' and begins to look suspicious. Ada finally decides it’s time to find a slightly less awkward pool of potential customers, tells Hannah that it was nice to meet her, and thanks Ephram for the muffin. After she departs – during which time, I might add, she shoots a parting glance at Bright – Hannah calls herself a “horrible person” for making snap judgments about Ada, as she seems nice “and she knits!” which is, for Hannah, truly an indication that one is pure of heart. She suddenly becomes very excited by the idea of knitting Bright a scarf. Bright vehemently replies that he hates scarves, and proceeds to ramble at length about how they’re “suffocating” and “they kind of strangle you,” which seems curiously violent language to apply to a few feet of yarn. Ephram, not unreasonably, asks why Bright is being so weird. Bright again protests that he’s fine, but needs water, and leaves to get some. Hannah is all smiles. Ephram is all suspicion. Credits!

Ephram and Bright enter the apartment. Ephram asks if Bright’s okay, noting that he [unsurprisingly] looks ill. Bright, acting Totally!Normal!, throws off his jacket and complains that the apartment feels like a sauna. Ephram rebuts that it’s actually freezing, and asks when Bright is going to tell him what the look between he and Ada meant. Bright lamely asks “Who?” Ephram finds this as irritating a dodge as I do, and insists that Bright knows who Ada is, as he was “in love with her for all of high school.” Bright, using his good arm to carry a pizza box and a few dirty dishes into the kitchen, protests that he wasn’t in love with Ada, and adds that it’s not cool to discuss other girls in front of one’s girlfriend. Yeah, that would be crossing the line. Ephram, however, doesn’t think it counts if the girl in question is someone like Ada, whom he likens to Heidi Klum. Ephram suddenly notices more peculiar behavior from Bright: “Are you cleaning right now?” He is! He’s doing the dishes! Oh, good gad, he’s taking this all even worse than we thought. Bright affirms that he is cleaning, and defensively asks why all the questions: “I can’t clean? I can’t have a clean place to live?” Well...no. A look of smirky realization dawns over Ephram, who proceeds to ask if Bright "hook[ed] up" with Ada. Bright, of course, fiercely denies this, saying “no” three times, which is not at all suspicious. Ephram, in turn, smirks some more and insists that he did, and deems it “awesome!” and asks why Bright never told him. Bright pleads with him to drop the whole subject, but Ephram refuses and asks again why Bright is being weird. Bright denies this for the third time, which marks the first time that Bright has ever done anything to remind me of an apostle. Ephram's kind of ignoring him now, and wonders when it all happened, asking if it occurred the summer between S2 and 3. Or, “that summer after we got my ID,” but the alternative way of phrasing it is clearly more concise. Bright, now looking defeated in addition to ill, leans back against the counter and admits that it was “last week.” Ephram: “Oh. That I did not expect.” Bright continues, sounding like he looks, that “it was a terrible mistake,” one he will “never, ever, ever” make again. Ephram asks how it happened. Bright recounts the sordid story, starting off with the table incident, AKA Bad Decision #1, and concluding that, while talking in her store, “it just happened.” Ephram, eyebrows raised, repeats “It?” and asks if Bright slept with Ada. I sort of thought that was implied by Ephram’s earlier use of “hooking up,” but, for various reasons, I’ve never had a particularly good handle on the proper usage of that phrase. Anyway, Bright responds to Ephram’s query with a barely-perceptible nod. Ephram unnecessarily observes that it's "bad.” Bright nods more overtly this time, and replies that he knows this. Ephram asks what he’s going to say to Hannah. This was not, actually, in Bright’s plans at all. Ephram wonders if he’s just going to pretend that it never happened. Bright: “Pretty much, yeah.” Ephram, having already, as we well know, noticed the utter weirdness emanating from Bright, questions whether he’s “sure that [he] can live with that.” Bright shrugs that he guesses he’s going to have to. They stare at one another for a moment, Ephram looking slightly accusatory, Bright looking...oh, you already know. But he’s also a bit splotchy, for what it’s worth, because guilt is evidently hard on the complexion.

Irv is on his book tour, at a book signing, in some bookstore in some city, reading one of the few passages from A Mountain Town that doesn’t insult Andy. When he ends, all those in attendance applaud, including a beaming Edna. As Irv sits, preparing to commence the actual ‘signing’ part of the whole affair, Edna notices Nia Long standing nearby, clutching a copy of the book and hanging back from the rest of the crowd. Edna urges her not to be shy, assuring her that Irv is a nice guy, and asks if she’d like to have her book signed. Nia Long is rather non-committal, but Edna volunteers to take the book up herself, adding that she’s Irv’s wife. She asks to whom he should make out the inscription. Nia Long has opted to go for the dramatic reveal, and suggests “How about ‘to his daughter’?” Edna is stunned. Irv suddenly spots Nia and hurries over to greet ‘Cassie.’ Irv and Cassie hug happily, while Edna continues to be stunned.

Office of Doctors. Louise informs Andy, who’s seeing off a patient, that one ‘Lee Kelsey’ from the adoption agency called to ask a few questions about Harold. As she says this, the camera pulls out to reveal a worried-looking Harold standing in the foreground. Andy chuckles that he guesses this means he finally gets a chance to dish some dirt on his colleague, and heads for his office. Harold, however, has some genuine reasons to be afraid, and asks for a moment of Andy’s time. Once safely in the office, Harold begins with an “about the interview...” Andy assures him that he will neither mention the Great Gum Heist of “So Long, Farewell” nor tell any inappropriate jokes. Harold smiles a bit, but explains that the issue is actually something that he has done, “in haste,” the result being that he now finds himself “in somewhat of a pickle.” Andy takes this as typical Haroldian hyperbole, and replies, jokingly, that it must be serious if it’s a “pickle.” Harold glares at him a little, prompting Andy to apologize and ask what the problem is. Harold proceeds to inform Andy of that little adoption application LIE, saying that he “omitted” to mention Rose’s cancer, although he did rather more than that, given the “NO” in big letters next to the question about cancer. Andy leans back in his chair and observes that it’s a “pretty big omission.” Aw, like father, like son, squared: both Ephram and Andy are spending their day stating the obvious to the Abbott men. While Harold perambulates a bit in consternation, Andy suggests that Harold just call and explain that he made a mistake. Harold, though, thinks that informing the agency of both Rose’s medical history and of the fact that he’s a big lying liar might hurt their odds of adoption, just a little. He pauses before Andy’s desk and admits that he wishes he could undo his action, but that it’s too late for that now, and he’s left to hope for a “miracle.” Unfortunately for Andy, Harold’s rather positioning him in the role of Annie Sullivan. While Andy fixes him with a fairly inscrutable gaze, Harold continues that he only needs to keep the secret kept for a few more months, “just until Rose and I get our child.” Nice attempt to tug at the heartstrings there, Harold. Andy’s untuggable, though, and replies that it’s more than just a few months, that this very big secret could come out at any time, including after placement. Harold decides to really go for the jugular, and reminds Andy that he’s “kept bigger secrets” for him. Andy grants this, and adds that he would be willing to LIE for Harold regardless of Madibabygate; there seems to be a “but” coming, but Harold cuts in before we ever get to hear it, assuring Andy that the whole mess is wholly on Harold’s shoulders. This seems to be as good an assurance as any to Andy, who now appears to be seriously contemplating renewing his long-expired membership to the Liars' Club.

Exterior of...the bookstore? Or some shop somewhere. They’re not giving me much to go on. Irv and Cassie hug goodbye, while Edna stands off to the side, smiling broadly and fakely. As Cassie gets in her car and starts to drive off, Edna sighs that it’s “good to see she still hates my white ass.” Irv chuckles a bit, and the two begin to walk along a sidewalk not far from the ocean, and a quick visit to IMDB reminds me that they're supposed to be in San Diego, which explains that. So, Edna rather bitterly observes that Irv and Cassie were getting on like “gangbusters,” adding that she didn’t realize the two were so close. Irv notes that it’s been a long time since he and Cassie have talked, so there’s a lot to cover. Edna grumps that Irv should have dinner with Cassie and family – an arrangement made off-screen – sans Edna. Irv insists that he wants Edna there, and that everything will be fine if she just gives Cassie time to “warm up” to her. Edna, however, doesn’t think time has anything to do with it, as it’s already been five years. She continues that Cassie didn’t come to the wedding, nor has she ever visited, all because Irv married a white woman. Irv reminds Edna that the Abbotts, and Everwood in general, weren’t too thrilled about the match, either. Edna rebuts that the source of the familial conflict was the fact that Hal Senior had died only two months earlier, but concedes his point about the townspeople, though she adds that they eventually got over it. Irv declares that Cassie will get over it, too, and will love her. They hug on this for a moment, then resume their walk.

Apartment. While Ephram reads on the couch, Bright walks around, talking on the phone with Hannah: “So you want to see Pride and Prejudice. What is that, about racism?” Okay, Bright. Looks like it’s time to lift the moratorium: hee! After a few moments, during which time Hannah is presumably setting him straight, Bright assents to the plans and declares that “we’ll do whatever you want, darlin’,” and, RED ALERT, Hannah! Ephram, for his part, takes this as a cue to get up and grab his coat. Bright ends the call and, somewhat unnecessarily, informs Ephram that Hannah is coming over. Ephram doesn’t respond, as he’s currently too busy fleeing. Before his escape attempt can actually succeed, however, Bright asks, a little pointedly, where he’s going. Ephram has big plans: “Uh I’m just gonna go out maybe go to the library or something.” Bright, even more pointedly, tells Ephram that he doesn’t have to go anywhere, as he and Hannah will only be there for a couple of minutes. That’s still a couple of minutes too many for Ephram, though, who says it’s “cool.” Bright now decides that it’s a grand time for a heart-to-heart, asking Ephram what’s up and exhorting him to “speak [his] mind.” Ephram assures him that “it’s none of my business: I just don’t want to be here when Hannah’s here. It’s, uh, no big deal.” Yes, because that new habit wouldn’t get kind of awkward over time. And Bright notes this, remarking that it will become a big deal if it keeps up. Ephram manages to say quite a bit in a single reply, though that might just be me reading too much into things: “Look, I don’t want to tell you what you can or can’t do, I just don’t want to be here when you do it.” Bright rather fiercely asks “What? Do what?” Ephram takes Bright’s challenge and puts it right out there: “Lie to her, and stuff.” I’m not entirely clear on what the “stuff” comprises, but I do find Ephram’s pretty strong reaction to the betrayal of someone with whom he’s not terribly close interesting. How much, if at all, is his perspective colored by his knowledge of Julia’s infidelity and how it’s affected Andy, and by his having witnessed Andy’s little S3 Hechian hi-jinks? Hmm. No time for tangents, though: there’s a four-star episode to recap! So, there’s apparently really nothing the already-remorseful Bright enjoys more than being reminded of his guilt by his best friend, as he reverts (or converts) to the previous episode's asshattery: “Damn. Must be easy living in your world, huh? Never do anything wrong, never make any mistakes...” Ephram is quick to interject that he never said that. Bright continues that it’s “crap,” given the number of times he’s supported Ephram, such as “the time you were totally screwing my sister over.” Yeah, because...that’s the same. Ephram very vehemently replies that he never cheated on Amy, “and if I did you would’ve kicked my ass, and I would’ve deserved it.” Bright wonders if Ephram “ever get[s] tired of being this judgmental.” Ephram apologizes, though this is sort of negated when he continues, in the same breath, that what Bright did to Hannah “sucks” and that he feels bad for her, and that he thinks... He stops himself with a “never mind,” but Bright is rather interested to hear Ephram’s further thoughts on the matter. Ephram says something that might be true, but that is also not remotely helpful: he declares that the whole mess could have been avoided had Bright just “trusted [his] gut” and broken up with Hannah back in “Connect Four.” Bright rebuts that Ephram was the one who told him to break up with her [really? You might want to check out the recap for that ep, Bright] and that Ephram never thought he and Hannah would work out. “So you know what? Screw you! Because you’re the one who put this in my head! And it’s probably because it was you, my friend, that’s – that’s why it stuck!” Man. How is it possible to want to kick him, hard, and yet also kind of want to hug him for being so pathetic? Stupid complex characters. Ephram sarcastically asks if it’s all his fault, then; Bright takes this quite seriously and exclaims that Ephram knows it’s his fault. Just as Ephram is about to inform Bright that’s he’s “so full of” something, Hannah throws open the door and asks what’s going on, noting that she could hear the yelling from the hall. Ephram and Bright exchange a parting glance before Ephram mutters “excuse me” to Hannah and lurches past her, out the door. Hannah, clearly concerned, asks if Bright’s okay, and what happened. Bright, of course, merely replies that it was “nothing,” and claims that he needs to go get his jacket. Hannah reiterates her question, a little more insistently this time, but Bright just continues his mad jacket pursuit, all the while denying things some more. Poor Hannah is near tears.

Poor Hannah’s now sitting at a table in some restaurant, through the doors of which Amy enters. Hannah spots her and thanks her for agreeing to meet, in spite of her busy schedule. Amy joins Hannah at the table and assures her it’s no problem. They sit a little awkwardly for about five seconds, before Amy asks how life is. Hannah claims that it’s “good, good, fine,” which we know is a lie because in this episode, at least, anything said three times in succession is patently untrue. Hannah asks the same question of Amy, who replies that she’s taking a great class on international relations, and is considering learning Mandarin. (Hee. That’s such a great 'college student' touch, like how I spent my sophomore year studying Hebrew because I thought it would be cool, and had a friend who also spent that year taking Hebrew, in addition to Biblical Greek, German, French, and, for at least a semester, advanced Spanish.) Hannah, however, has not yet reached the 'frivolous language study' phase of her life, and makes a couple of great slightly impressed/slightly baffled faces as she observes that it “sounds...harder than Spanish, but, uh, probably way more important.” Then: “Are there a lot of Mandarin people in Everwood?” Oh wow. And, also, I’ve just decided that Hannah can’t break up with Bright soon enough. Amy’s reply: “Um...” Hannah, perhaps fearful of embarrassing herself further, finally declares that she has something she needs to talk about, and asks if they can’t just “skip the fake nice stuff and push straight on through the weird?” Amy gratefully agrees, then asks what happened. Hannah admits that “nothing actually happened, it’s just...” Amy finishes Hannah’s thought with a “Bright?” Hannah affirms this, and continues: “I feel like there’s this huge wall between us that you can’t see, but I can totally feel, and that everything is just...off.” As support for this, she notes the fact that he’s now fighting with Ephram, which Amy finds very puzzling indeed. Hannah wonders if she’s just being paranoid, but concludes that Bright seems to be “pulling away from everyone” for reasons she can’t determine. She asks if he’s talked to Amy. Amy, however, says that she hasn’t had any communication with him since the Abbott Dinner of Awesomeness, as she thinks he’s still angry. She does, though, offer to talk to Ephram about the situation. Hannah, who now has far bigger concerns than reuniting Amy and Ephram, insists that she doesn’t want to make Amy do anything that would be “too weird.” Amy’s cool with it, though – actually, she says she’d be “happy” to do it – and adds that it's probably something minor and that Hannah shouldn’t worry, since it is Bright, the guy who broke his hand during an ill-fated attempt at a karate chop. Hannah laughs, and remarks that she “probably shouldn’t let him watch those Bruce Lee movies any more.” Amy very cutely shakes her head and quietly replies “no,” and the two laugh together, and it's nice to have this Amy again instead of the one who lectures people or stalks Reid...

...who, as it happens, is currently sitting in Jake’s office. Jake enters and greets Reid, who thanks Jake effusively for taking the time to meet with him. Jake sits at his desk and picks up what appears to be a stapler, though it’s apparently some type of surgeon’s exercise equipment, as Jake squeezes it a few times and remarks that he has to keep his hands strong. Jake resumes his work out and asks what he can do for Reid. As Reid explains that he’s a student at A&M and is looking for an office at which to intern, wacky reed (ha!) music begins to play, making me wonder for a moment if Harold is going to randomly wander through the scene. Jake eagerly asks if Reid is interested in plastic sur...doo-doo-DOO-doo, doo-doo-DEE-doo-doo. I’m sorry; this music is incredibly distracting. So, er, Reid admits that he isn’t, really, and only came by because he knows Jake works alone and is always busy. [Shut UP, soundtrack. Gah.] What’s more, Jake is “the coolest doctor in town.” [There was a flourish! The song must be over!] Jake nods a little and concedes that he is. Heh. [Is that – noooo! It’s back. Urgh.] We then get a close-up on Jake's hand and the stapler-looking thing. Reid continues – glancing repeatedly at the stapler-thing – that he’s looking for something to give him an “edge–when I–apply–to residencies – Can I try that?” Jake tosses the stapler-thing over to him and retrieves a second from his drawer. Reid regards it fondly, while Jake asks if Reid has any clinical experience. Reid, enjoying the stapler-thing but returning his mental energies to the matter at hand [and oh wow that pun was genuinely unintentional, I swear], says that he does, noting that he’s worked at the clinic on campus, was an EMT for two years, and, of course, spent the previous summer volunteering at the hospital. Jake observes that Reid’s “really on the ball.” He also observes that Reid has “shockingly strong hands.” As Reid continues to demonstrate this with the stapler-thing, Jake declares that he could use Reid’s help there, “if for no other reason than I think you could probably lift really heavy stuff.” Reid asks if he really means it [about the offer, I mean], which Jake confirms that he does. Reid is very excited, and promises Jake that he won’t regret it. And then Reid’s cell phone rings. Noticing the caller ID, he explains that it’s his advisor and asks if Jake minds, which Jake does not. Reid greets Dr. Franco; after a few beats, he asks if Dr. Franco could tell him “what this is about.” Reid will find out soon enough, as he concludes that he can meet Dr. Franco the next day. After ending the call, Reid stares at his phone a moment, a little puzzled, though he really shouldn’t be this confused. I’m fairly certain that wasn’t his evil twin taking that exam for him. Jake asks if everything’s all right; Reid, sounding less than sure, says it is, and that it’s just “med school. Professors are always on you about something.” Yes, they do tend to be that way where acts of, you know, academic dishonesty are concerned. Jake replies that he remembers it well, and stands to leave, explaining that he has a patient to see. He adds that he’ll have Edna call Reid, and the two men shake hands as Reid thanks – holy cow, Justin Baldoni towers over Scott Wolf. Now I want to go back and rewatch that scene between Jake and Bright in “The Next Step,” because somehow I failed to notice back then that Scott Wolf probably only came up to Chris Pratt’s shoulders. I’m easily amused. Anyway, Jake hurries out and Reid stares after him for a moment, looking quite pleased to have gotten himself back on track. Oh, dear, naive Reid. No one told you that you were on Everwood, did they. In an episode called “Truth,” no less. Ah, rookies.

Dinner at Cassie’s. Cassie asks what inspired Irv to write a novel. As Irv explains that it was something he had always wanted to do, but didn’t have time to until he lost his job, the camera pans around the table, moving from Cassie to Irv to Edna to...Cassie’s very white husband. Heh. Cassie’s husband, Dave, smiles at Edna, who, in turn, stares at him dejectedly. Irv concludes by mentioning the office Edna had built for him, which prompts Cassie to glare at Edna. So, a good time is being had by all! Edna tries to cut the tension by breezily remarking that he “had no more excuses!” and chuckles a little. Dave chuckles as well, while Cassie’s baby daughter, apparently her mother’s child, whimpers at the sound of Edna's voice. Dave whisks the baby away, while Cassie explains that she’s usually asleep by then. Cassie glances at Irv, who smiles a bit, and Edna, who looks uncomfortable. The baby lets out a few more wails, providing Cassie with a convenient excuse to escape. Once she’s out of the room, Edna poses a valid question: “Is my vision failing, or does that guy look white to you?” Heh. Irv laughs and admits that he’s surprised, concluding that it kills Edna’s “racism” theory. Edna wonders that if Cassie’s “so down with Whitey,” then, what’s her problem with Edna? Whitey returns to the room, remarking that Cassie still doesn’t quite trust him with 'Olivia' on account of his lack of swaddling skills. He joins the other two at the table, but grows rather uneasy upon noticing the intense gaze Edna’s directing at him. Edna asks how he and Cassie met. Dave replies, uncomfortably, that it was through friends. Edna seems to find this answer unsatisfactory.

The adoption agency lady is interrogating Andy in his unusually dark office. Andy is gushing about Harold, calling him an “extraordinary father” and someone from whom Andy frequently seeks parenting advice. He also compares him to Dr. Phil. Adoption Agency Lady glances up from her notes and asks what Andy means by that. Andy nervously explains that he simply means that Harold gives great advice, “just like Dr. Phil. Although I’ve never actually seen the show. I’m more of an Oprah man, myself. What about that book club, am I right?” Hee. Adoption Agency Lady doesn’t really care, and turns their discussion to the topic of the “Abbotts’ greatest weakness as potential adoptive parents.” Andy sighs that it’s a tough question, and finally notes that Harold might be “a little too organized.” AAL asks if this could be a problem with having a young child. Andy is very quick to reply that the Abbotts have already raised two children, “and I’m sure their house was very chaotic...” AAL nods and jots something down in her notes. Andy: “Um, I don’t mean more chaotic than normal! Just, normal chaos! Funny chaos! Like a Neil Simon play. You go to the theater much?” Heeee. AAL, in the understatement of the century, observes that Andy seems “nervous.” Andy: “Me? No, no, no. [Rule of threes!] I’m just a little fidgety. I probably just...have to pee.” Why AAL doesn’t approve Harold and Rose right then and there, I’ve no idea! AAL stares at Andy a moment before returning to her notes, mentioning that Andy hasn’t said much about Rose, and asking if there’s any reason he’s avoided discussing her. Andy explains that he works closely with Harold every day, and so has more to say about his character than Rose’s. He adds that if AAL would like to know anything about Rose specifically, she’s free to ask. Andy’s saved by the bell, though, as AAL’s phone rings. She notes that it’s her boss, meaning that she has to go, but does have one last question. Andy: “Oh, good...I mean, what?” AAL asks if Andy thinks there’s anything that makes the Abbotts “less than ideal candidates,” or anything else that Andy thinks the agency should know. After a moment’s thought, Andy decides that there is: “I can’t think of two people on this earth who would make better parents than Harold and Rose Abbott.” AAL is satisfied with this. Andy ushers her out of his office and asks how things look for Harold and Rose. AAL says that she can’t comment on that, as it mainly depends on the foreign orphanages and their governments. She thanks Andy for his time, and leaves. After her departure, Harold appears in the doorway of his office. Andy nods to indicate his complicity in the LIE. Harold looks grimly resigned, as he's been wont to do these past few episodes.

Cassie’s kitchen. While Cassie loads the dishwasher, Edna enters and offers to help, which offer Cassie rejects. Edna begins to walk back out, but then decides it’s time to finally get to the bottom of things. She says that she knows Cassie doesn’t like her, but always thought it was because she was against interracial relationships. Cassie, of course, laughs about this and snarks that “of course” Edna would think that. Edna continues that she and Cassie don’t need to become best friends, but should try to get along for Irv’s sake. This hits a nerve in Cassie, who noisily sets down a platter and asks “For my father’s sake? I don’t hear so much as ‘boo’ from you all this time and you’re telling me you care about me and my dad?” Edna insists that “of course” she cares, though she knows Irv and Cassie don’t see each other very often. Cassie interjects that “we all know whose fault that is.” Cassie seems a little bitter. Cassie turns back to the counter and mutters that Edna is worse than Cassie's mother, which provokes Edna to respond with an indignant “excuse me?” Cassie declares that Edna must be “high maintenance,” as she hasn’t seen Irv once in the five years since he and Edna married, and snarks, for good measure, that she was beginning to suspect Edna “had him ball-gagged in the closet somewhere.” Edna refutes Cassie’s linking of Edna with Irv’s lack of contact, but Cassie rebuts that it has “everything” to do with her. She asks if Edna was aware that Cassie and Irv had planned a trip to South America. Edna, as it happens, was not. Cassie continues that everything was set, but the night before they were to leave, Irv called to inform her that he wouldn’t be able to make the trip after all, because he was marrying Edna. Edna’s at a bit of a loss for words, though she does say that this is the first time she’s heard about it. The real source of Cassie’s pain finally emerges, as she remarks that Irv’s “always been a bit of a wanderer,” which her mother, who basically tried to domesticate Irv, could never understand. “Yet somehow, you’ve managed to do just that, huh?” Cassie concludes all this with a defiant declaration that she’s not going to become friends with the woman who’s keeping her from her father, and marches out of the kitchen. Edna appears very unsettled.

Brown kitchen. Andy and Delia are at the counter, rolling out dough, when Amy casually enters through the unlocked – because this is Everwood – back door. Amy greets them both quite peppily; Andy returns the greeting, while Delia asks if Amy got shorter. Amy suggests that Delia might have gotten taller. As Delia smiles widely about this, Andy smiles, too, and observes that it “feels like old times.” He invites Amy to stay for a dinner of homemade pizza, but Amy declines the invitation and merely asks if Ephram is in the living room. Andy affirms that he is, and off Amy goes.

Close-up on the piano, which Ephram is playing very intensely and very prettily. Amy takes a few steps into the room before asking when Ephram will start playing songs with which she can sing along. Heh. Ephram stops, and, standing, remarks that “if you can’t sing along to Rachmaninov, I don’t think I can help you.” And as perfectly lovely as it would be to just have a cute, banter-y scene, Amy realizes that this particular episode is a little too bleak for that, and asks if Ephram’s at home only to practice, or if there’s some other reason. Ephram casually (by which I mean, “obviously lying, and doing so badly”) asks what Amy means. What Amy means is that she already knows Ephram is avoiding the apartment, as, per Hannah, he and Bright seem to be fighting. Ephram’s all “yeah, yeah, it’s nothing, it’ll blow over.” Amy smiles at this, for some reason, and somewhat teasingly asks what happened. Ephram informs Amy that he can’t discuss it with her; Amy takes this to mean that it’s about her. Ephram disabuses her of this notion, so Amy asks who it is about, then, because for Amy, not discussing it = playing Twenty Questions. Here are two hints: the problem is animal, and bigger than a breadbox. Metaphorically speaking, I mean. Ephram is silent for a couple of moments, and finally replies that Amy really doesn’t want to know; “trust me, it’s bad. I wish I didn’t.” Amy gives him a gentle, and slightly hurt, “Hey,” reminding him that their previous efforts at keeping things from each other haven’t worked: “You wind up in Europe, I wind up a Women’s Studies major...” Hee! Ephram: “You’re right. That’s bad.” Double hee. Amy concludes that she’s Ephram’s friend and is there for him if he’s struggling with anything, and suggests that she might be able to help. This is all the persuasion Ephram needs; after looking thoughtful for a moment, he confesses that Bright cheated on Hannah. Amy responds with her own pensive moment, before asking if he “actually...” Ephram curtly confirms this. Amy sits down, and asks how Ephram found out: “Did you walk in on them?” Oh, ack, Amy! Dude. I am now so very glad that Ephram didn’t have some pressing yarn emergency that fateful night. Just...the mental image...*shudder* Ephram kind of shudders, too, but remarks that “at least now I know there would have been a worse way for it to go down, thank you for that.” Heh. Amy wonders how, then who, then finally declares that she doesn’t want to know. She stands and takes a few steps away from Ephram before turning back around and asking, again, “Who?” Ephram says that it doesn’t matter and that it was, in any case, no one she knows. Amy, very indignant on her friend’s behalf, exclaims that Hannah will “die when she finds out.” Ephram: “Yeah, well, she’snotgoingtofindouthe’snotgonnatellher.” Seriously, that’s pretty much how Gregory Smith delivers the line. Amy offers an appalled “What?” and Ephram agrees that “it sucks,” but shrugs. Amy insists that Bright has to tell her. Ephram wearily replies that Bright won’t, however, and that he’s already talked to him about it. Amy asks if Bright is “crazy” and if he really thinks he can lie to Hannah without Amy getting involved. Ephram, however, astutely points out that Amy can’t do anything about it, as, “technically,” she doesn’t know anything. Amy protests, but Ephram continues that he never would have told Amy had he known that she would tell Hannah. Amy starts to walk off, announcing that she’ll just talk to Bright, then. Now it’s Ephram’s turn to protest, but Amy whirls around and insists that they “can’t just let him do this.” Ephram emphatically reminds her that Bright already did it; “it’s not our business how he chooses to...” Amy interjects that it’s very much their business, given that Hannah is her best friend. Ephram rebuts that Bright is his. Amy interprets this as Ephram defending Bright; Ephram is quick to assert otherwise, noting that he thinks “the whole thing sucks” and that he can’t hang out in the apartment for fear of encountering Hannah, to whom he feels like he’s lying. Amy cuts in with an “Exactly!” but Ephram isn’t done yet: “But I can’t go behind Bright’s back and betray his trust and try to get him to do something he’s not ready to do yet. I’m sure he’ll tell her eventually.” Have to say, I’m squarely on Ephram’s side in this (shocking, I know), simply because Bright’s actions have nothing to do with Amy or Ephram, regardless of their roles in relation to Bright and Hannah, and regardless of the fact that I agree that Hannah does need to hear the truth – from Bright. And that, really, is the whole point of the thing for me. In any event, Amy protests that Ephram isn’t sure at all. Ephram concedes this, but says that he would like to believe it of Bright. Amy, for her part, would “like to believe that all men aren’t total pigs, but right now you all totally are!” Ephram asks, just a wee bit bitterly, for confirmation that he’s a pig now. Amy deems him “part of the pig problem,” before turning to leave AGAIN and declaring that she’s going to tell Hannah. Ephram accuses her of “totally selling [him] out,” prompting Amy to whirl around AGAIN and accuse Ephram of unfairly putting the issue on her, reminding him that he was the one to tell her in the first place. We suddenly return to Andy and Delia in the kitchen, overhearing the argument. Andy: “Yep. Just like old times.” He and Delia exchange a knowing glance and shake their heads.

Edna and Irv are enjoying breakfast in their hotel room; Irv is deriving particular enjoyment from his mimosa, prompting Edna to observe that if he drinks any more, she’ll have to do the reading for him. Irv remarks that they have a few hours and suggests that they head back to bed. Edna, however, is not in much of a “bed” mood, as she’s still “bristling” from the previous night’s exchange with Cassie. Irv’s all “that’s just Cassie, she’s got fire in her belly!” Edna argues that it’s not “fire” so much as “anger,” though heaven only knows what led her to that wacky conclusion! Irv sagely declares that Cassie’s merely reacting to the fact of having a stepmother, as stepmothers and -daughters have never ever gotten along, in the whole history of step-parenting. “They make Disney movies about it all the time.” Hee. Edna, not terribly appreciative of Irv’s attempts at family analysis, rebuts that he’s “not exactly Prince Charming in this whole deal.” Irv wonders what she means by that. Edna continues that she’s willing to “take the fall” for Irv with regard to Cassie, but that Cassie also blames her mother for the situation, and is, essentially, angry with everyone except for the one person with whom she should be: Irv. Irv attempts to cut in, but Edna stops him, asking if he isn’t the “absentee father.” Irv snits that Edna’s “just being belligerent.” Edna assures Irv that she’s not trying to attack him, but is simply pointing out that, for as much pain Cassie seems to be carrying around, Irv must have his own share. She asks why Irv hasn’t seen Cassie in five years. Irv, his defenses finally down, admits that it just seemed easier not to, as he feels guilty over missing out on much of her youth and feels as though he owes her for all the lost time. Edna replies that he does owe her; though she adds that he can’t make up for the past – “I couldn’t with Junior” – he can do something about the present. Irv fears risking the loss of what he and Cassie already have, but Edna gently suggests that what they have isn’t real. “So what are you risking?” Irv looks pained, but appears to be considering Edna’s advice.

Speaking of pain and loss, Hannah’s in her room, packing. Amy enters, after rapping on the open door, and asks if Hannah’s joining the Peace Corps. Hannah happily greets Amy, and explains that she and Bright are going camping, and that it might be just what they need! Oh, Hannah. Amy watches with a sad smile as Hannah goes on about how great it will be to get out of town and have fun. Amy observes that Hannah seems “a lot better;” Hannah agrees that she is, and attributes it to her decision to “try the whole ‘power of positive thinking’ thing.” She continues that she was probably just being paranoid that something was wrong and needed to be fixed, and that she was really the one who was “off.” So sad. Amy offers a firm “No, Hannah,” but Hannah’s only response is to sit on the bed and self-deprecatingly apologize for bothering Amy. Amy, joining Hannah on the bed, assures her that she can talk to Amy about anything, any time. Hannah, a little cautiously, asks if this means she and Amy are no longer fighting; Amy replies that they weren’t fighting, but “working through some stuff.” They laugh a little, figuring they should enjoy their last moment of lightness before the episode barrels towards its devastating but inevitable conclusion.

Dr. Franco’s Office of DOOM. The conversation here has clearly been going on a little while, as Reid insists that he didn’t cheat. An unnamed professor who looks like a cross between Helen Mirren and Meredith Baxter notes that Reid received the highest score in class, yet has spent the semester nearly failing the course. Dr. Franco adds that the school flags discrepancies of this nature. Reid protests that he just studied really, really hard this time, and finally feels like he’s “starting to get it.” Prof. Mirren-Baxter, however, informs Reid that two students came to her, separately, and reported that they had seen Reid using a crib sheet. Reid’s immediate response: “Who?!” That...doesn’t make you seem any less guilty, Reid. Dr. Franco says that Reid has two choices; Reid interjects that he’ll do whatever’s necessary in order to stay. That, however, is not one of Reid’s options, as Dr. Franco explains that the school has a zero tolerance policy regarding cheating, and that Reid will be expelled. Reid looks truly stricken now, and offers a weak “but I...,” while Dr. Franco says that Reid can either confess and apply to another school in a year or two, “or you can fight the charges and guarantee no other school will ever accept you.” Okay, leaving aside for a moment the fact that Reid did, actually, cheat – if he truly had just studied intensively and made this miraculous turn-around on his own merits, then I would feel very much compelled to say that Dr. Franco kind of sucks. Reid frantically protests that he can’t be expelled, and asks if there isn’t someone else with whom he can talk about the issue. “It can’t just be over like this.” Well, unfortunately for you, Reid, that’s essentially the theme of the episode, so, yes, it can. Dr. Franco confirms this, and tells Reid he’s sorry. Reid is pained.

Madeleine, the adoption agent from “Lost and Found,” has just arrived at the Abbott home. Uh-oh. Rose was evidently not expecting Madeleine’s visit, as she nervously asks if everything is all right, and if the consulate received their INS forms. Madeleine cheerfully assures her that all is well. Harold comes down the stairs and joins the two women; the three proceed to take seats in the living room. Madeleine explains that she just wanted to drop something off in person, and removes a folder from her bag. Harold jokes about developing carpal tunnel syndrome from signing [and LYING on] so much paperwork. Madeleine, though, has something a little more interesting than that: “We found a match.” Rose looks startled, while Harold remains placid. Madeleine shows them a picture of an adorable toddler, introducing him as “Chawe – your child.” Rose gasps a little and the two take a good look at the photo, as Madeleine continues that he’s nineteen months old. Harold looks up and beams about how “beautiful” he is. Rose, her voice full of joyful tears, says that she “can’t believe this.” Madeleine cautions that they should review his records carefully and consider whether or not they want to make the commitment. Harold and Rose, of course, committed as soon as they saw the picture, as did I, because that kid is impossibly cute. Madeleine concludes that once they’ve decided to move forward, it’s all just a matter of processing the adoption paperwork. Harold heartily thanks Madeleine, who offers her congratulations. Rose asks if they need to do anything else, which Madeleine assures her they do not. Then: “Because I did contact another oncologist, and he’s happy to be a second reference if the orphanage needs more assurance about my health.” I’m well aware of the moral inappropriateness of this immediate response, but: shut up, Rose. Madeleine, looking just a little baffled, repeats “Oncologist?” Harold offers a nervous “Rose...” to his wife, who smiles obliviously. Madeleine asks to what “medical issues” Rose is referring. Rose explains that she means her cancer – “the spinal tumor I had removed last year.” Harold, sensing that all is lost now, closes his eyes. Rose continues that everything should be in Madeleine’s files, “the medical histories that Harold sent,” and smiles again. Madeleine glares at Harold, who keeps his gaze fixed downward. Rose asks Harold for confirmation that he sent them. Madeleine finally replies that the records say nothing about Rose ever having had cancer. Rose looks to Harold, who, after a moment, simply replies that he’s “sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Rose is in disbelief, and takes – and provides the viewers with – one final, heartbreaking look at Chawe’s picture.

Irv and Cassie stroll along a walkway at “Seaport Village,” if the little banners on the lamp posts are to be believed. Cassie’s telling Irv all about her plans for Olivia’s September birthday party, which seems slightly premature for an episode that aired on May 1. Cassie continues that she knows Irv is busy, so would understand if he can’t make it, “but if you do come, I’ll make sure that Mom doesn’t.” Oh, come on. It’s bad enough that this scene is sandwiched between two utterly devastating ones, but to throw in a reference to Irv making plans months in advance? Nice work, show. In any case, Irv replies that he thinks he and Cassie’s mother can stand to be in the same room, but Cassie assures him it’s “cool,” and that she’d rather have Irv there than her mother anyway. Irv brings their stroll to a stop, and informs Cassie that he doesn’t blame her mother for leaving him, as he was a bad husband and father. Cassie insists that it’s not true, and that Irv was always her favorite. Irv admits that he loved that, but that he was never there for Cassie the way her mother was. Cassie protests that her mother never let Irv be there, as she was always too busy criticizing him. Irv pleads with Cassie to listen, and says that he and Cassie’s mom had problems before Cassie was ever born, but that after Cassie came into existence, he realized that he wasn’t ready to handle fatherhood, which Cassie’s mother sensed. Cassie takes this in, and, after a few moments, replies that she always thought Irv must have had a good reason for his absence. Irv dismisses the notion of there ever being a “good reason” for a father to leave his daughter, and adds that he doesn’t know how Cassie’s mother “protect[ed]” him, but that he didn’t deserve it. He concludes that he doesn’t want Cassie to blame her mother or anyone else for Irv’s actions. Cassie doesn’t really want to discuss any of this, but Irv goes on that he “couldn’t handle it.” Cassie, not unnecessarily, wonders why Irv is telling her all of this. Irv explains that he wants a real relationship with her, rather than losing any more time [*sniffle*] “pretending.” Cassie, however, informs him that “it’s too late for that,” and walks away.

Apartment of Self-Hatred and Penitence. Bright’s in the kitchen when someone knocks on the door; though he yells for the someone to come in, he soon regrets it, as Amy enters and declares that she needs to talk to him. Bright, picking up his backpack, says that he’s about to leave, and walks to the door to demonstrate this, but Amy – now in the kitchen – announces that he has to tell Hannah the truth. Bright walks back and flings his backpack onto the counter, hissing that Ephram is a “little son of a...” Amy is quick to reply that it’s not Ephram’s fault, as she made him tell her; what's more, Hannah herself knows that something’s wrong and even asked Amy to help her figure out what it is. Bright dismisses Amy’s points, claiming that everything will go back to normal after their camping excursion. Peak Falls must be quite a place. Amy asserts that things won’t, because if Bright doesn’t tell her, Amy will. Bright seethes that Amy has no right, though Amy attempts to justify her threat by reminding him that Hannah is her best friend. Bright finds this rather convenient, given that Amy “treated her like crap for months and, what, now all of this and you care again?” Amy retorts that she “never stopped caring” and can’t believe that Bright has. Bright does not particularly appreciate having his feelings defined by another person, and fiercely and sincerely exclaims that he loves Hannah “more than [he’s] ever loved anyone” in his entire life. Amy, with equal fervor, asks why he did it, then. This little question brings all the anger to a head; Bright knocks his backpack off the counter, launching it several feet away and sending it crashing into something off-screen. His defenses finally down and his remorse having resurfaced, he takes a few steps, sits at the counter, and attempts to justify his lying: “I made a mistake, okay? I screwed up, and it’s never gonna happen again, I know that. But if you tell her...” Amy stares at him steel...ily?, which only seems to inspire an even more heartbreaking line delivery from her brother: “God, please don’t tell her.” *attempts to remind self of Obnoxiously Argumentative Bright and the Yarn Shoppe scene* Amy’s expression softens a bit, but she remains firm as she informs Bright that as much as he wants to erase his mistake and pretend that it never happened, he knows that he can’t; furthermore, she argues that what he’s doing now might even be worse: “You are making a fool out of her, Bright.” Bright admits that he doesn’t know why he cheated, then kills me a little bit more: “This whole time I thought that I was missing out on something that I needed by being with Hannah. What I realize is, Hannah’s all I need. And now that I’ve finally figured that out, I’m gonna lose her!” Bright’s getting all teary and...*Sigh. YarnHo, table, second beer, broken hand, sexual peak, red bra...nope. It’s not working. Sniffle.* Amy, not unaffected herself, notes that Bright doesn’t know that, though Bright clearly suspects otherwise. Amy sits next to him and suggests that he tell Hannah what he just told her. Bright thinks that Hannah will never forgive him; Amy reiterates that she might, “but if you don’t tell her now, you’ll never get the chance. Keeping a secret from someone that you love, even if you think you’re doing it for all of the right reasons, is a betrayal. Trust me, I learned it the hard way last year. Don’t do what I did.” Bright plaintively says that he doesn’t “want it to be over.” Amy gently replies that she knows, and puts her arm around his shoulder, drawing him closer, in, it’s worth noting, a very sisterly way, in spite of the actors' real-life romantic history, Berlanti. But, anyway, *eyes well with more tears. Stupid Sad Bright.*

Ooh! Pretty snow-covered mountains! The camera pans down to the street of Everwood, where Ephram is loading various and sundry coffees and pastries into his car. Amy, apparently on her way to work, informs Ephram that if he’d waited five minutes, he could have had his assorted foodstuffs for free. Ephram jokes that he stole them anyway. Probably beat up an old lady in the process. After getting his coffees all settled, Ephram asks if Amy’s talked to Bright. Amy confirms that she did, and apologizes for Ephram feeling as though she sold him out, but explains that she “couldn’t let that happen to Hannah.” Ephram confesses that he probably would have done the same thing if he were Amy, which Amy knows. This being the time for apologies, Ephram offers one for yelling at Amy, though Amy assures him it’s “nothing I haven’t been subjected to before,” and adds an apology for calling him a pig. Ephram jokingly agrees that it was “really uncalled-for.” Amy smiles briefly, but gets thoughtful and muses about how unbelievable and sad it all is. Ephram wonders what Hannah’s going to do. Amy doesn’t know. Ephram asks if Amy would have forgiven him if he had ever cheated. Amy admits that she probably wouldn’t have, but makes the pertinent point that Ephram would never have cheated in the first place. Ephram: “Only because I know you would have come after me with a knife.” Heh. Amy laughs, while Ephram continues that he knows it sounds “horrible,” but that he’s surprised the relationship lasted as long as it did. “I mean, Bright and Hannah are so different. I mean, I could never see how it was gonna end, but at the same time I could never see how it would last.” But that was the lovely thing about them – it didn’t make any sense to anyone else, but they understood each other in ways that no one else did, like in “Since You’ve Been Gone” where Amy assumes Hannah's only real problem is being obsessed with Bright, and Ephram makes a semi-joking comment about Bright being "a good-looking empty shell devoid of any characteristics," but then Hannah tells Bright all sorts of serious things she never could tell Amy, and Bright somehow ends up saying exactly what Hannah wants and needs to hear, and wow, I really need to get over this. Amy concedes Ephram's point, but says that she wants to believe a relationship can work if people want it to. Ephram understands this, observing that though it seems like there are “so many people that you could work out with, in reality it’s almost impossible to find somebody that you connect with on all levels. Not just one level.” Amy agrees and, after a Significant Glance passes between the two, sighs that she should get to work. Ephram tells her not to be late, and watches her a moment before getting into his car. *gets teary AGAIN, for some reason. Thank goodness for the next episode, when all we have to deal with are things like suicide attempts and subtle references to dead mothers and raw emotional pain. Whee!*

Lobby of Edna and Irv’s hotel. Edna asks if Irv wants to try calling Cassie again, but he says sadly that he’s already left her three messages. Edna is very sorry; Irv is apparently sorry that he took Edna’s advice, as he simply replies that he’s going to see if the car is outside. As he heads for the doors, he looks up to see Cassie entering. Cassie, unemotional, informs Irv that she thought he should have a picture of his granddaughter, and hands him such. Irv smiles and thanks her. Cassie then gives him an invitation to Olivia’s birthday party, adding that the offer was Dave’s idea. Irv doesn’t really buy this last statement; Cassie glances from Irv to Edna back to Irv before declaring that she herself would like it if Irv could come. He’s not going to be able to gooooooo! *wails* She extends the invitation to Edna as well, adding that she appreciates the way Edna speaks her mind: “You’ve got fire in your belly, lady.” Edna accepts this as a compliment. Irv takes a few moments before leaning over and pulling Cassie into a hug; after they draw apart, he thanks her both for the invitation and for coming to the hotel. Cassie finally smiles, albeit a little awkwardly, and says she’ll see them then. She walks away, leaving behind a happy Irv and Edna.

Reid’s at Sam’s, lost in contemplation. Jake enters and jovially greets him with a slap on the back. Reid smiles rather sickly and says hey. Jake asks if Reid would like to begin working for him the following day, as Jake has a late afternoon. Reid weakly replies that he doesn’t think he’ll need the internship, after all, but thanks him anyway. Reid stands and begins to walk away, but Jake, concerned, asks if everything’s all right. Reid responds, with a slight quaver in his voice, “No. Not really.” This does nothing to diminish Jake’s apparent concern, though he asks no further questions as Reid makes his way towards the door.

Bedroom of Harold and Rose. Rose enters through one door and crosses paths with Harold, entering through...another. One is the hallway entrance and the other the bathroom, but as to which is which I’m completely unsure. In any event, Rose glares at her husband, who asks how much longer she intends to give him the silent treatment. Rose: “...” As she takes her pillow from the bed, Harold remarks that she “can’t keep sleeping in the guest room for the rest of our lives” though I frankly think she’s kind of entitled to sleep wherever the heck she wants to right now. Even if she and her big mouth did totally ruin Harold’s smooth plan. Rose actually speaks, though only to point out that she can [sleep elsewhere, that is], actually. Harold, exasperated, declares that he doesn’t know what else to say, tacking on a weary-sounding “I’m sorry” at the end. Rose wonders what Harold could possibly have been thinking. Harold insists that he wasn’t thinking at all, but was instead “acting purely out of emotion. The moment I saw that question on the application, I knew we were just fooling ourselves,” and that they would never have even been considered had the truth been known. Rose exclaims that Harold doesn’t know that, but Harold matter-of-factly replies that he does know, and so does Rose. Rose asks what was the point of getting this far, “of leading us down this path if you were so certain of the outcome?” Harold says that he wanted the adoption as much as Rose did, and wanted to believe that they wouldn’t be rejected. Rose optimistically replies that they might not have been. Harold reminds her that it takes five years to be truly cancer-free, and that she’s not even a year into remission; in fact, she still has another follow-up appointment and scan in a few weeks. Rose, frustrated, asks if Harold thinks she doesn’t know all of this, and flings the pillow on the bed, exclaiming that “it’s just not fair!” She sits on the edge of the bed, declaring herself “strong” and “healthy” and well-aware that she’s capable of taking care of a child. “It would be so happy with us...” Aw, who wouldn’t be? *sniffle* Harold quietly replies that he knows, and, walking towards her, continues that “the only thing I think about more than that baby are all those damn appointments. I have every one of them written down in my book...it won’t be ‘til those five years pass that I’ll feel like this is really behind us.” They pass a few silent moments before Rose clutches her pillow and sighs that “it just doesn’t end, does it?” The pain, Rose? The unrelenting pain generated by this episode and the subsequent four? No. It never does. Harold sits on the bed next to Rose; the two exchange a sad look before Rose rests her head on Harold’s shoulder and the two sigh and look sad some more. I hate this show.

Hannah’s room. Yep, it’s that time. Hannah is examining bottles of Gatorade arranged on her desk, while Tori Amos’s “A Sorta Fairytale” plays on a nearby radio. Subtle, show. Bright appears in the doorway, looking – you guessed it! He offers a morose “Hey,” which greeting Hannah returns far more perkily. She enthusiastically says that she’s almost ready, and, holding up two bottles, asks which color Gatorade he prefers. Bright starts with a “Hannah...” which she seems to take as a comment on the vast number of Gatorades [dang. Wish they’d pay me for mentioning their product three times in a single paragraph] she’s purchased, as she explains that there were just too many flavors. As she sets down the bottles, Bright repeats her name and, taking a few more steps into the room, says, in appropriately serious tones, that he has something to tell her. Hannah leans against the desk and gives him an only slightly nervous “Okay.” They stare at each other for a moment before Bright resumes: “A couple of weeks ago, when we were arguing, and, you didn’t call me back [huh. Nice way to put it on her, Bright]...uh, something happened.” Hannah, sounding genuinely concerned, asks what happened. Oh, Hannah. Bright waits a few seconds before admitting, with great remorse, that he “messed up. And I – I didn’t mean to do it, and if – if I could take it back, oh God I would, in a second...” Hannah stops him for a moment and asks what he’s saying. Bright stares at her, looking pained, as Hannah continues that he “didn’t...Did you cheat on me?” Bright’s silence is really all the answer she needs, though, if that didn’t suffice as an explanation, his apology might. Hannah is truly aghast, but Bright forges ahead, saying that it was “so stupid,” while Hannah, basically ignoring him, mutters a stunned “oh my God.” Bright strides over to her and continues that it was a “mistake” that’s not going to happen again. Hannah, however, attempts to drown out Bright’s apologies and defenses by chanting that she doesn’t want to hear it and doesn’t want to know, which, really, is such a beautifully Hannahverian initial reaction to the situation. As Hannah continues her litany of denial, Bright insists that “it was the stupidest thing” he’s ever done and adds a “she means nothing to me” for good measure. The emergence of this fairly nauseating cliche finally rouses Hannah from her trance; after another impassioned use of God’s name, she orders Bright to stop and, indicating her door, declares that she needs him “to go. You have to go. Now.” Bright says her name pleadingly, but Hannah only responds with a fierce “please.” Bright is crushed, but does as she asked. After he leaves, Hannah begins to shake, and sinks into her desk chair; once seated, she finds it even harder to hold in the sobs, and finally collapses over her desk, her head in her hand. Ugh. Sarah Drew is marvelous. And this show is pure evil.

Next time: From the show that brought you such feel-good episodes as “The Last of Summer,” “Oh, the Places You’ll Go,” and, well, the one I just recapped, comes an all-new festival of fun: “All the Lonely People”! You’ll laugh...at one or two lines! You’ll cry! Probably a lot! You’ll rue the day you ever let your tear ducts get anywhere near this show!