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!