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.)