Reckoning

So. I suck.

Sam’s. Ephram and Amy, who is presently working at the counter, are in the midst of an argument about Bright. Ephram protests that he’s “seemed a little depressed lately,” which is rather like observing that Jake is sometimes a little manic, or that S3 Andy was a little hateful. Amy sarcastically asks if “YarnSlut isn’t returning his phone calls?” Dude, when did Amy join TWoP? And I wonder which threads she frequents? Ephram disregards this and asks if Bright shouldn’t be just a little excited about celebrating his impending twenty-first birthday. Amy explains that Harold and Rose have already made plans to take him to Applebee’s, as he enjoys receiving a free cupcake and being serenaded by bored waitstaff armed with tambourines. Ephram, however, argues that as Bright is “not ten” [debatable], the responsibility for his celebration should fall on his peers. Amy admits that she’s concerned that Hannah will think she’s okay with... “YarnSlut?” Ephram finishes. He assures Amy that everyone, Bright included, is aware that it was a bad move on his part, but that ultimately, he’s still Amy’s brother. Amy sighs that she guesses she can handle one night. Ephram says he’ll set things up, but Amy is suddenly distracted by Charles Durning’s presence at a distant table; she glares at him and exclaims, irritatedly, that she “can’t believe this!” Ephram, continuing with his self-appointed mission to state the obvious, observes that Amy seems rather “testy.” Amy explains that Charles Durning has been stationed at a particular table in her station the entire day, and has ordered nothing but coffee. Sizing up Durning, Ephram gets all cocky and declares that he can get him to move, even if he’s not a “professional waitress,” which presumably means he's retaining his amateur status for the next Olympics. Amy bets twenty dollars on this, fully anticipating Ephram’s imminent “public humiliation.” Ephram strides over to Durning’s table and asks, politely yet firmly, if he wouldn’t mind moving to the couches. Durning amusedly, yet crankily, asks if Ephram is the manager. Ephram confidently lies that he is, and that, furthermore, the tables are reserved for diners. But it’s hard to pull the wool over Durning’s eyes, as he hands Ephram the little table placard thing and challenges him to show him where it specifies that. Ephram nervously explains that the rule is “understood,” while Amy, in the background, laughs at him. Durning officially settles into the role of Cranky Old Man and asserts that he paid for his coffee, was promised free unlimited refills by the menu, and will sit at the table for as long as he wants. As Ephram gazes at him, mildly frightened, Durning drains his mug and, smirking, demands more decaf. Ephram, humbled, takes the proffered mug and retreats. Meanwhile, Andy enters and, at the sight of a hysterical Amy, asks what’s so funny. Amy cites her bet with Ephram, who, having just taken about three minutes to return to the counter, because he apparently crawled there, relays Cranky Old Man Durning’s request. Andy spots the man himself and suddenly appears stunned. Ephram greets Andy, who breaks from his reverie to ask what Durning and Ephram were discussing. Ephram, understandably confused, says that it was nothing, and asks if Andy knows him. One could say that: “He’s my father.” Amy is surprised. Ephram is bemused. Durning is cranky. Credits!

Andy ushers Durning into a room marked “PRIVATE,” presumably Nina’s office? I guess? It looks like it. Now, Durning here grumbles something about something, which I totally couldn’t understand at first, until I remembered that this is the first recap I’ve done since receiving a new TV for my birthday, which means that I now have closed captioning and a screen bigger than thirteen inches. (I recapped those first seventeen episodes with my late great-grandmother’s fifteen-year-old television. Be glad there weren’t more instances of “says something I can’t understand.”) So Durning, as it happens, remembers that he left his pills on the table, but Andy assures him not to worry, as “it’s not Penn Station.” Andy directs Durning to sit, which he does, and asks why he has a cane. Durning tersely explains that he just “had a little surgery.” Just for the heck of it! Andy wonders if he has to guess the reason for Durning’s presence, or if he’ll actually tell him. Durning helpfully informs Andy that he’s “passing through” and jokes that he plans to do some skiing. Andy glares in response. Durning, apparently chastened, remarks that he heard about Julia, and is sorry. Andy pointedly notes that it’s about four years too late for a sympathy visit, and asks if Durning will actually answer his original query. Durning now declares that he’s there to see Ephram; Andy informs him that he already did, which prompts Durning to marvel that Ephram’s grown, and seems tall for his age. Andy dismisses this, reminding Durning that Ephram is nineteen, and starts to add something about his “little sister,” which comes as a surprise to the Durnster. Andy elaborates, providing a name and age; Durning wants very much to meet her, eagerly asking what she’s like and jovially commenting that he hopes she has Julia’s looks. Andy is not playing along, however, and sternly interjects that Durning “can’t do this,” suddenly appearing after a fifteen-year absence and expecting normalcy. Andy asks if his father is sick. Durning snarkily rebuts that Andy would “like that, wouldn’t you?” Andy offers up a fairly loud “for God’s sake,” while Durning continues that he’s not dying but is merely an old man who wants to see his grandkids. After considering this for a moment, Andy informs Durning that he can stay in Ephram’s room. Though I briefly hope he means the crawl space in the apartment, because that would be weird and therefore more entertaining, Andy disabuses me of that notion by going on to add that Ephram will drive his grandfather back to the Brown house, as Andy has to return to work. Andy proceeds to do so, leaving Durning to stew in his conflicted crotchetiness.

Hannah is at school, hurriedly retrieving books from her locker. Her phone rings; after looking around a bit surreptitiously, she answers, only to be greeted by “Nick...Bennett,” because she apparently knows multiple Australian guys bearing that first name. Hannah’s unenthusiastic, but mostly confused, while Nick explains that Amy gave him the number [which is just one of a few reasons that Amy and I could never be friends] and said it would be okay to call, though he nervously asks if it’s actually not. Hannah assures him that it’s fine, while Nick rambles on that he should have asked for her email address instead. Hannah begins that “it’s not that...” which statement the schoolbell pretty decisively concludes. Hannah slams her locker shut and notes that she shouldn’t be on her cell phone, so Nick, rather than, say, offering to call back at a more appropriate time, declares that he’ll just “cut to it, then.” This involves blathering some more about how their first date was a set-up, and that Hannah’s probably thinking something or other and blah blah blah blah blah until Hannah, who’s striding purposefully down the hall, mercifully gives voice to my own frustration and asks if he can’t “cut to it a bit faster?” Nick asks if Hannah would like to “do something, some time.” Hannah, confused: “You mean with you?” Hee. Suddenly encountering one “Mr. D.,” she hastily conceals her phone and greets the teacher. Oblivious Nick, meanwhile, goes on some more about all the things they can do together, like having dinner or seeing a movie or going skating. Returning to the call, Hannah hisses that it’s not a good time. Nick takes this to be a commentary on his proposals, and quickly urges her to forget he even suggested skating. Hannah practically shouts that she has to go, so Nick pleads for just one date, promising that it will be fun. Hannah: *as bell rings in background* “Okayfinebye.” Nick: *throwing up one hand enthusiastically* “Yes!!!” Heh. Dork. Though, and I say this with some reluctance, as Nick bothers me for some unaccountable reason, but it is sort of cute how excited he is to go out with her. It’s nice that the show itself never treated Hannah like the loser she initially perceived herself to be.

Meanwhile, just a few feet away from Nick and on the opposite side of an outdoor bulletin board, Ephram has just posted a flyer advertising his piano lessons when a curly-haired girl bounces over and posts her own flyer square on top of Ephram’s. Ephram informs her of this; she apologizes and repositions her “Roommate Wanted” flyer over one promoting a food drive. Though Ephram is slightly taken aback by this, the girl breezily observes that there are already hundreds of flyers for it around campus. Ephram drily deems her a “real humanitarian,” prompting her to smile and assert that she likes his sarcasm. Heavens. I suspect we’re in the midst of a cute meet. Apparently realizing this himself, Ephram, starting to sound all banter-y, notes that she could just respond to one of the “Roommate Wanted” notices already posted on the board. Girl, however, sassily declares that she’s “the kind of girl who does the interviewing, not the other way around.” She caps this off with an equally sassy “See you later, Piano Man,” because she’s sassy, and a big fan of the Billy Joel oeuvre. She departs. Ephram, intrigued, takes a phone number tab from her flyer, showing us in the process that her name is Stephanie. Which we all already knew, of course, so I suppose I may as well have just used her name throughout this paragraph.

Nina’s in the kitchen, working on her computer, when Jake enters. Noticing her intense focus on the screen, he asks if Sam’s made a profit in the past month; Nina informs him that she’s actually shoe-shopping. Ha ha ha! This recap and I really need an Abbott man to show up soon. Jake chuckles a bit and announces his need to discuss something with Nina, blithely adding that he “feel[s] really horrible.” Nina smirks and remarks that she can “sense [his] misery.” Jake, however, insists that he means it. Nina, still smirking, turns her full attention to Jake, who proceeds to declare that his sudden announcement regarding the LA move was “bad form,” borne of his concern that the news would be upsetting to Nina. Nina interjects that she wasn’t upset, but Jake continues that, while he wants to give Nina time to think about the issue, he also wants another chance to pitch her on the idea. Nina attempts to stop him with a mild “Jake,” but he urges her to close her eyes – which she does, albeit smirkily – while he retrieves the necessary props: a child’s sand pail and shovel and various things contained therein. He finally gives Nina the go-ahead to open her eyes, and begins his pitch by referring to these props as “the four S’s: sun [using shovel as a pointer, indicates a lightbulb], sand [pail], stars [Hollywood guidebook], and shopping [Rodeo Drive brochures].” Nina is mostly preoccupied by his decision to use a lightbulb to represent the sun. Jake confesses that it was the closest thing he could find at the drugstore, before returning to the subject of the move itself, saying that his decision isn’t just about him, but about Nina and Sam, both of whom he thinks would love LA. Nina, who’s spent this entire pitch looking slightly amused, informs Jake that she agrees, which is why she thinks they should do it. Jake, startled, asks incredulously if the pitch really worked. Nina, as it happens, had already made her decision the night before, “but this was really fun to watch!” Jake wants to ensure that Nina’s sure and that he’s not forcing her into anything. Nina, however, insists that she’s ready to see the world, and that she wants to do it with Jake. Jake continues to be happily surprised, while Nina suddenly embraces him. After a moment, Jake perkily adds that this means they could “whore Sam out for cereal commercials!” Heh. Nina sarcastically dubs this a “great idea,” and they laugh and hug a bit more, though Nina suddenly looks pensive, which is seldom a good sign on this show.

Brown kitchen. Andy’s getting something from the refrigerator when Ephram walks in, and, after greeting his father with an unusually chipper “Hey!”, asks where everyone else is. Andy says that Delia’s at a sleepover and Durning’s upstairs, so he ordered a pizza for Ephram and himself. Ephram, sounding rather disappointed, remarks that he thought the assorted Browns would have dinner together, but Andy explains that as it’s Brittany’s birthday, it wouldn’t be right to keep Delia from attending the party. Andy proceeds to take a big sip of the booze that he earlier retrieved from the fridge, because it’s Eugene O’Neill Night in the Brown household. As Ephram stares at him, Andy mutters “What?” Ephram casually says it’s nothing, but that, as Delia already sees Brittany all the time, he’d think the appearance of another grandfather would matter more. Andy, slouching over to the table with glass in hand, grumbles that as Durning never informed them of his visit, they shouldn’t have to “change [their] entire lives just to accommodate him.” Ephram, pacing a bit before joining his father at the table, wonders whether or not Andy actually wants he and Delia to get to know their grandfather. Andy’s all “Sure, whatever,” which Ephram, curiously, doesn’t seem to interpret as a ringing endorsement. Actually, Ephram asks what caused the rift between Andy and Durning. Andy tries to brush it aside as a “long story,” but Ephram, continuing his season-long role as Supportive Son, says he has time. After a moment, Andy begins: his mother, with whom he was close, developed endocarditis when Ephram was only four; Andy, who had just been named chief at his hospital, urged Durning to bring his mother in to see a cardio specialist, but Durning preferred to stick with their HMO in Rhode Island rather than upset his mother with travel. Ephram rather unnecessarily asks what happened next. Andy says that they argued, neither man giving in, and in two months his mother was dead; the funeral had been the last time he saw Durning. Ephram takes this all in with a quiet “Oh,” before asking if Andy thinks his mother would have lived had she gone to New York. Andy bitterly observes that they’ll never know, then notes that Ephram’s “grandfather is a very stubborn man” [what good fortune that that character trait seems to have been recessive!] who “couldn’t fathom that I might actually be right about something.” Ephram: “Oh. At least now I know where you get it.” Aw, Ephram, you’re one of the few characters by whom I’m honored to have my jokes stolen. Andy, however, ignores all the (mild) hilarity and explains that there are many things with which he hasn’t dealt regarding his father, and his presence just makes it worse. Ephram says that he gets it, but also suggests that “fifteen years is a long time to hold on to a grudge.” Andy tries to put it in terms that Ephram would best understand: “Could you ever forgive the driver of the car that killed your mother?” Ephram admits that he probably couldn’t, but astutely notes that the driver wasn’t his father. Or was he! (Sorry. The moment just called for it.) In any event, Ephram rises from the table, while Andy remains seated, lost in thought. What neither younger Brown man has noticed is Durning standing in the living room, just outside the kitchen, eavesdropping and looking rather pensive himself. He turns and begins to make his way back upstairs.

Next day, in the Apartment of Dude, Even I’m Finding You Woefully Pathetic By This Point, But At Least You Bring the Funny. Bright is on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and watching golf on television. Yeah, this isn’t even endearingly sad any more. Ephram emerges from his crawl space and remarks that he thought Bright had class then, which Bright confirms that he does. Ephram, himself appalled by this pathetic display, turns off the television. Bright indignantly asks what Ephram is doing, but Ephram has his reasons: “It’s called an intervention.” Bright glances around a moment before making the not untrue point that it’s “kind of a weak intervention.” Not that this stops Ephram, who sits in the chair by Bright and sternly informs him that while the Hannah situation “sucks,” Bright has to accept the fact that he won’t be getting back together with her, “at least not anytime soon.” Bright, however, insists that he has a plan; “it’s in its initial stages right now, but...” Astonishingly, Ephram scoffs at this, noting that when he walked in the day before, Bright was watching Lifetime. Bright defends this action as having been “in the spirit of research;” by way of additional explanation, he deems Meredith Baxter-Birney “a total MILF.” One: if he thought this after viewing the Betty Broderick movies, then he’s really lonely, unless watching her murder Reverend Camden was a turn-on, in which case I can’t entirely fault him. Two: this MBB affection is something he could discuss at length with Psych’s Shawn and Gus, and oh, wow, I’m sorry to go off on another of my tangents, especially since I don’t know how many, if any, of you watch Psych, but for anyone who does, would your head not possibly explode from the sheer awesomeness of putting those guys and Bright and Ephram in a room together? Throw in Harold and Lassiter to compare notes on having Debra Mooney as a mom, and, whoa. Okay. Right. There’s more scene left. Yes, so, Ephram, growing a little frustrated, insists that Bright needs to “get Hannah out of [his] head” and move on with his life, especially as he has a birthday impending. Bright dismisses this with a sarcastic “big deal,” but Ephram rebuts that it actually is a big deal, and asks if Bright really wants to remember his twenty-first birthday as one he neglected to celebrate because he was “moping around over a chick”? Surely not, which is why Bright will eventually find a much cheerier way to commemorate the big occasion. Anyhoo, Ephram concludes that Bright needs to look at the big picture. Ephram’s message begins to sink in, as Bright announces that he really is sick of wallowing and wants to celebrate. Ephram outlines his plan: “We’re gonna pick out a bar, we’re gonna make some phone calls, we’re gonna blow out the big 2-1.” Bwah! Wait, was that not supposed to be funny? It’s just that it’s a little reminiscent of the notion of Ephram and Hannah showing interest in attending a party. (And, for what it’s worth, my amusement is not at all derogatory, but, quite to the contrary, derives purely from my overidentification with certain of these characters.) But Bright is amused as well, as he laughingly asks when it was that Ephram became “Johnny Social”? Ephram has also, as it happens, become a man after Bright’s own heart: “When I met a girl that I want to invite.” As Ephram heads to the kitchen, Bright asks if Ephram is really using his birthday as an excuse to ask out a girl, which question Ephram answers by dialing the phone. Bright, growing a bit misty: “Makes me kind of proud.” Sadly, Ephram misses this touching moment, preoccupied as he is with greeting Stephanie. Wow. Weak conclusion there, scene; you’d have been better served by ending on the ‘proud Bright’ note. Hmph.

Meanwhile, a new day dawns in the Brown kitchen, but not much has changed. Andy’s margarine-ing up an English muffin for himself when Nina knocks, then, without awaiting an invitation, strides through the back door, asking if Andy has a second. Andy, whispering, cautions her not to slam the door. Nina quietly apologizes, despite not having actually slammed the door, then continues, in equally quiet tones, her request to talk with him. Andy, however, shushes her and urges her to be quieter still. Nina takes this to mean that Delia is still asleep, but Andy casually explains that it’s actually his father. Nina is surprised both that Andy’s father is in the house, and that Andy has a father at all. She asks how long he plans to stay; Andy doesn’t know, of course, but does know that he wants to avoid waking him, as he’s a “bear” in the morning. As if on cue, Durning comes grumping in, carrying his coat. Andy asks about this accoutrement. Durning replies that there’s a flight at 10:30, and he’ll need a ride to the airport. Andy rather indignantly asks what Durning is talking about, as he just arrived and wanted to spend time with his grandchildren. Durning, however, snarkily rebuts that “apparently that’s not going to happen,” though Andy reminds him that Delia will be home later. Durning has no desire to wait, remarking that he feels like a “prisoner” in the Brown home, “except in prison, they actually feed you!” Well, now, hold on there, Durn. I doubt that Andy actually barred you from eating, so...shut up. Andy exclaims that Delia will be back in two hours, and wonders why Durning has “to be so...” Durning correctly supplies a “stubborn?” and sarcastically shrugs “Guess I’m just like that.” He leans in conspiratorially, adding that it’s a “shame it killed my wife, though.” Ooh! I’d momentarily forgotten the eavesdropping. Durning: 1. Andy stares at his father, stunned. Nina hustles over to Durning’s side and introduces herself. Durning not unreasonably asks if she’s Andy’s girlfriend, prompting another slightly wounded look from Andy, but Nina hastens to describe herself as merely a “friendly neighbor lady,” and adds that she didn’t catch his name. Durning, growing suddenly flirtatious, introduces himself as “Eugene Brown” [thanks!] and leers at her. Nina continues that Eugene just can’t leave yet! Eugene and Andy both wonder why. Why, it’s because Nina’s having them over for dinner that very night! And given how well previous Nina/Brown functions have gone, this should be a joy for all involved. Nina lies that she was “just telling Andy” about it, prompting Andy to gape at her a little. Eugene insists that Andy wants him to leave, leading Andy to interject that that’s not true, and that “one of these days...” Nina, playing peacemaker again, declares that she’s spent the whole morning cooking, and so won’t take no for an answer. She asks if 7:00 is good. Eugene grumps that it’s fine, as he’s “not going to be rude.” No, wouldn’t want that. Andy volunteers to bring the wine, as “we’re gonna need it.” Nina chirps that she’ll see them tonight, and exits. Andy sighs heavily. Eugene wonders what’s for breakfast. Andy glares at him, because apparently he was deliberately withholding meals.

Hey, it’s Rose, in the art gallery! Talking about Harold! Hmm, yeah, given Bright’s current state of general patheticness and all, I’m going to need Harold to actually appear on-screen. Being funny. But that ain’t happening anytime soon, so back to the show. Rose is walking and talking with a co-worker, saying something about how Harold is a “real planner” who started college funds for the children years and years ago. Rose suddenly notices a painting hanging askew and reaches up to fix it; as she does so, Co-worker Lady notices a bruise on Rose’s lower back and asks how she got it. Rose is concerned and utterly unaware of having incurred any such injury. Co-worker Lady points it out to Rose, and asks if it hurts. It does not; Rose, in turn, asks if it’s big. Co-worker Lady admits that it is, and seems surprised that Rose didn’t realize it was there. Rose dismisses the whole thing and, as a diversion tactic, points off-screen and urges the other woman to go assist an unseen man. Co-worker Lady does so, leaving Rose to look quite concerned indeed and hurry off to...somewhere else.

Edna and Irv are in their kitchen. *sniff* While Irv prepares breakfast, Edna mutters that “it’s official: Hartman is bugging out to La-La Land.” What all this means to Edna, of course, is that Harold will soon need a new tenant and Edna herself will need a job. Irv assures her that she’ll find something else, suggesting that Andy might know of something at the hospital. Edna, however, is not so sure she wants to find another job. Irv, surprised, turns to look at her, as she continues that her book tour travels with Irv showed her “how much fun it is not to be punching a clock.” Irv reminds Edna of her S3-era claims that work is what keeps her going. Edna concedes this, but says that “things have changed,” by which she mainly means that, between Irv’s book money and her IRA, they have more money, and “maybe it’s time to take it all and see the world!” As Irv marvels at this, Edna continues that her last trip out of the country was highlighted by the Tet Offensive. Irv asks if Edna’s serious, which she very much is, declaring that she’s “ready for Phase Three, if you’re still interested.” Irv very much is. They embrace enthusiastically.

Amy is playing with Legos. Also, she’s in her room with Hannah, who’s [rightfully] calling her out for giving Nick Hannah’s number. But mostly, Amy is playing with Legos. Amy is also explaining that she felt entitled to give Nick the number because he made Hannah laugh; she further justifies herself by adding that Hannah would have never said yes to the date if part of her didn’t want to go in the first place. Hannah rebuts that it was the “panicky part,” as he caught her off-guard, and she’s now “stuck.” Amy’s all “Stuck?! He’s a hot Australian guy who’s totally into you!” Well, maybe that’s not everyone’s type, Amy. And "hot" is subjective. Hannah rather reluctantly grants that it sounds good when put that way, but that it doesn’t mean she’s ready to move on yet. “I am in a mourning period, Amy. Perhaps if I wore black, he would recognize that.” Perhaps, though I suspect his actual response would be something like, “Your widow’s weeds are utterly ravishing! Please allow me to prostrate myself on this mud puddle here, lest you soil your delicate feet crossing it!” Amy shows a little more sensitivity than she previously has to her friend’s plight, and assures Hannah that she’s not saying she should be over Bright yet; rather, as this will be her first post-breakup date, Nick will be her “rebound guy,” which means there are no expectations. “So just go, have a terrible time, and get it over with.” Hannah rolls her eyes a little before consenting with an irritated “Fine.” She then notices what we all noticed at the beginning of this paragraph, to wit: Amy is playing with Legos. Amy argues her case astutely: “It’s fun.” Good enough for me!

A word: In last year’s “Free Fall” recap, I kind of broke into the proceedings in order to declare my ardent affection for Mad Men, in large part because I broke into “Free Fall” in order to watch Mad Men. So it happened again last week, when I was working on this part of the recap, but this time I had the awesome cognitive dissonance of going from Hannah to Kitty Romano. Sarah, you rock. And now for something completely on-topic!

Brown/Brown/Brown/Feeney/Hartman Dinner Festivities! Eugene is recounting the history of the Peugeot 203 and what a joke it was and none of this is terribly relevant, except that it allows Jake to remark that Eugene had earlier said that he liked working on French cars, so we have confirmation of something Andy said in a previous season about his father being an auto mechanic. Eugene affirms his fondness for French cars, citing their proclivity for breaking down, meaning good business for him. Nina suddenly asks if anyone wants pound cake. Delia and Andy do! Nina asks Delia to retrieve the plates and forks for her. Delia slumps a little and mutters that she “didn’t want it that bad,” before trudging off to the kitchen anyway. Jake, deciding to take advantage of Eugene’s car expertise, asks for some convertible-buying advice. As Eugene asks if he’s interested in foreign or domestic, Andy sighs dramatically and makes a big show of looking at his watch and basically reminds me of nothing so much as a twelve-year-old girl. Jake, meanwhile, turns to Nina and says that it’s her call, as the car’s for her, though he adds that he thinks she’d “look pretty sexy driving a ragtop down Rodeo Drive.” These last two words capture Andy’s attention, and he repeats them questioningly. Jake, totally oblivious to Andy’s tone, continues that they won’t be living in Beverly Hills, but rather Santa Monica or the Palisades because they have better schools. Andy, officially startled, asks if they’re “ moving?!” Jake trails off and looks back and forth between Andy and Nina before apologizing for springing the news on him, as he had thought Nina had told Andy that morning. Nina weakly replies that she was going to but got “sidetracked.” Andy, looking rather stricken, asks when it all happened. Nina hastily says it was “recently, very, very recently,” while Jake explains the situation that his partners in LA want to get things moving before summer, when “everybody runs off to Hawaii.” Eugene suddenly senses a re-entry point: “Ah, Hawaii. Humid son of a bitch!” Hee. Totally ignoring Andy’s Grumpy and Random Old Dad, Jake says that the house goes on the market the next day, and they should be in LA by the end of the month. Or series. Either way. Andy stutteringly asks about Nina’s plans for the restaurant, while Eugene decides that the others actually desire his advice, and starts grousing about how real-estate agents are useless and do nothing beyond putting up signs and distributing donuts and blah blah blah I’macrankyoldmancakes. Andy, however, wonders what Eugene would actually know about any of this, given that he’s lived in the same house for fifty years. Eugene thinks this is irrelevant, but, all the same, Andy orders him to stop interrupting. “You’ve been monopolizing the conversation the entire night!” And one more piece of the Andy-puzzle falls into place! (Though in this case, Ephram remains a mystery.) Nina is deeply uncomfortable and makes a lame attempt to cut in, while Andy really gets into his rant and accuses Eugene of trying to “tell these people who you barely know how to live their lives! Show some respect!” Eugene is silent, as is Andy. Nina stares at Andy a bit pleadingly. Andy finally announces that he “can’t do this right now,” and stands, thanks them for dinner, and walks out. Nina bites her lip in remorse.

Brown front porch. Andy is sitting on the bench, moping, when Nina joins him. She asks if he isn’t freezing, but he replies that it’s colder inside. Nina begins to apologize for her dinner invitation, noting that she didn’t realize how bad things were between Andy and Eugene, but Andy interrupts to ask when she’s leaving. Nina says she doesn’t know, as it depends on the house and Sam’s school schedule, but takes this opportunity to inform Andy that she didn’t want him to find out the way he did. Andy smiles and assures her that he knows this. This doesn’t dissuade Nina from dwelling on it some more, continuing that she feels “awful” and had intended to tell him when she came over earlier. Andy gently asks if “this” is what she wants. Nina sighs a bit before reminding Andy that she promised to help Jake, and “can’t just abandon him now. I mean, we’ve been living together for a year and Sam adores him and I’m in this. There’s this...momentum.” Andy astutely notes that she failed to answer his question; Nina concedes this, before concluding that she thinks moving with Jake will “be easier for everyone.” Andy, continuing his relatively recent pattern of good behavior where Nina is concerned, smiles again and nods his understanding. After this, both grow silent and glum. You know, I think what those two need is a...

Wild bar scene! Well, except that said scene involves Sad!Bright, Jealous!Amy, and Ephram, so...’wild’ may be subjective here. Bright is sitting at the bar when Ephram and Amy arrive. Wait, why is Bright already there? And why did Ephram and Amy arrive together? Eh, whatever. So Ephram says he’s going to tell the door guy they’re there, but, before departing to do so, gives Bright a credit card and assures him that “my dad would have wanted to buy you a drink.” Bright: “I knew I liked him!” Heh. Amy joins her brother at the bar and sighs, for some reason. Bright, sounding perfectly chipper, which makes it all a little sadder, observes that it’s “kind of weird, huh? I’m so used to hanging out with her.” Amy, though, declares that they should just forget about Hannah and have some fun. “Nothing says fun like hanging out in a bar when you’re the designated driver!” The bartender appears with a shot glass of something for Bright, who hands the bartender the card and urges him to “keep them coming,” as it’s his birthday. Amy glances over towards the entrance and asks who the person with Ephram is. It is, of course, Stephanie; Bright, who doesn’t really care, says it’s probably just the girl Ephram had told him about, and then raises his shot glass in a birthday toast to himself. After downing it, he spots some guy named “Brooks” and hastens over to greet him, leaving Amy alone. Meanwhile, Ephram asks Stephanie if she came with anyone. Stephanie did not, which seems like normal courtesy to me, but Ephram deems it “awesome! Cool,” before laughing dorkily. Hee. They make their way to the bar, where Amy is sipping something non-alcoholic and glaring at them with only marginally murderous intent in her eyes.

Abbott Room of Living, where Harold, Rose, Edna and Irv are gathered. Irv is telling Harold and Rose all about the RV he and Edna are planning to purchase, which Edna says they’ll first use to visit Niagara Falls. Harold examines the newspaper ad from which Irv’s just been reading and notes that the seller’s address is nearby, and proposes that he and Irv go over now to “kick some tires.” Rose thinks it’s a bit late for that, but Irv says it’s a “guy thing,” and he and Harold depart. Rose, pouring Edna some tea, confesses to being a little jealous of their adventure and muses that “there’s something very romantic about the call of the open road.” Edna deflates Rose’s Jack Kerouac-inflected fantasia a bit, joking that it’s romantic “if we don’t kill each other in the first week!” [*sniff*], citing Irv’s slow driving as one tendency that drives her crazy. Rose, however, is still taking the romantic view of things, rhapsodizing about what an “adventure” it will be, with a “whole new life ahead of” them, “no limits.” She looks down, suddenly seeming quite reflective. Edna notices this and says Rose’s name questioningly. Rose returns to the present and apologizes, explaining that she had a PET scan that morning and is still “shaky.” Edna, naturally concerned, asks if something happened, as it’s a bit too early for the results to have come in. After a moment’s pause, Rose replies that she doesn’t need the results, because she knows her cancer is back. Edna dismisses this as “crazy talk,” but Rose cites her ginormous, inexplicable lower-back bruise as evidence. Edna gently insists that that’s “nothing,” as the steroids Rose has been on can contribute to bruising more easily. Rose, however, won’t be reassured; she asserts that she knows her body and knows when something is wrong. What’s more, “God knows, too. That’s why we didn’t get the baby.” Oh, Rose. This is enough to get Edna out of her seat and over to Rose’s side. She exclaims that if Rose’s cancer has returned, they’ll just fight it as they did before. Rose mutters that she can’t; when Edna declares that she can, Rose replies that she doesn’t want to. Edna stares at her, rather taken aback; after a few moments’ silence, Edna continues, more softly, that she knows it was “awful,” but that Rose is just scared. Rose admits that she is, and further admits that she’s only telling Edna about all this because, if her fears are realized, she’ll need Edna to come back to take care of Harold. Edna shakes her head and says Rose’s name again, but Rose pleadingly asks Edna to promise that she will. Edna, though, can offer nothing more than a hug.

Brown kitchen, AGAIN. Were they running low on rooms this week? Did Dawn Ostroff make them donate part of the furniture to the 7th Heaven set? So, Andy is doing the dishes when Eugene walks in. Apparently able to discern his son’s states of mind simply by looking at the back of his head, Eugene smiles and shakes his head a bit and asks if Andy is “still all hot and bothered over a ‘neighbor lady’ leaving?” Andy, having finished the dishes and now striding towards the table, does not answer. And he does not answer very, very loudly, somehow. Treat’s just that good. Eugene, totally not reading the room, at all, teasingly observes that Andy “likes her” and that he “remembers the look.” Andy, who’s...clearing the table? Then what was he just doing at the sink? sternly informs his father that they are “not having this conversation.” Eugene snarkily wonders if there are any conversations to be had, then, or should he “just go upstairs and stare at the walls?” Andy violently ignores him again, so he continues to kvetch, remarking that if he wanted this kind of reception, he could have just stayed at a Motel 6. Andy retorts that perhaps Eugene should have done so, given that his visit has been a “disaster.” Eugene waves his hand dismissively and mutters that he “can’t take this crap,” and starts to shuffle out of the room. Andy, though, is tired of all this; he fiercely commands Eugene not to walk away from him again and orders him to the table. Eugene, looking rather sheepish, complies. Andy continues that Eugene has always walked away from difficult conversations with Andy; “You never took the time to talk to me! You never even bothered getting to know me.” And everything that’s ever happened in this series officially makes sense. Andy goes on about how Eugene never asked him about his day at school or at work, and didn’t even bother to call when Andy made the cover of Time. Eugene’s deeply useful response? “I’m a Newsweek man myself.” Andy verbally rolls his eyes at Eugene’s turning everything into a joke [hi, one of Ephram’s genes!], at which Eugene sighs a grand “Give me a break!” Andy wonders why he should, and why Eugene presumes that, after “ignoring [Andy] for forty years,” it’s okay to casually chat about Andy’s personal life? “You haven’t earned that right. Not by a long shot.” Eugene admits that Andy is right: “Nothing has changed.” Then: “You are still the pompous ass you always were.” I can’t even fathom how Eugene might have responded to S3 Andy. But Eugene goes on to say, in quite ragged tones, that if Andy can’t forgive him for the Time incident, “how can I expect you to forgive me for...” He chokes up a bit. “...For your mother’s death?” Andy, looking genuinely baffled, insists that he doesn’t blame Eugene for that. Eugene, however, says that he heard what Andy said. Andy, though, has apparently misled the viewers, and explains that he gave Ephram that excuse “because it was easier than telling the truth, because it’s a fair reason to hate you – even if it wasn’t completely true.” Eugene grouses that he doesn’t know what Andy is saying, so Andy clarifies: “What I blame you for is abandoning me when I needed you most;” that is, Eugene left following Andy’s mother’s death, while Andy was still an emotional wreck. Eugene questions Andy’s emphasis on his own pain, exclaiming that he had just lost his wife, but Andy uses this as support for the idea that they should have been there for each other. Eugene asks if he was just supposed to accept Andy “cursing [him] left and right” in the immediate aftermath. Andy thinks he was, arguing that “that’s what fathers do.” Eugene thinks an exception should be made when “their sons hate them.” But Andy knows from being hated by a son: “Especially then.” Eugene stares at him, seeming a bit chastened, and the two grow silent. And thoughtful, but that rather goes without saying as regards scene conclusions on this show.

Pathetic Bar Fun! Amy walks up to Ephram and Stephanie, who are sitting at the bar and clearly enjoying themselves, and asks if they’ve seen Bright. Ephram’s all “Oh, about [holding up hand] this tall, curly hair?” When Amy stares at him, unamused: “Sorry, I forgot you’re not drinking.” Perhaps I should be, because MildlyIntoxicated!Ephram’s sense of humor leaves something to be desired. Stephanie suddenly introduces herself, and notes that she and Amy are in the same section of “Soc 120" [I referred to exactly one class in my undergraduate career by its number, and that was only because the actual name of it was too clunky to be used in regular conversation. Are there students who actually do this, or is it totally some convention that writers made up, decades ago?], which fact she remembers because Amy possesses an “insane leather coat” that Stephanie covets, and because Amy “always say[s] really smart stuff.” Amy is appropriately flattered; Ephram, perhaps fearing the love burgeoning between his ex and the new girl, interjects that he thinks he just saw Bright in the corner, “playing one-handed pinball.” Well, that must’ve been a short game. Amy thanks him, and quickly explains to Stephanie that she’s just trying to keep track of her brother, which seems like a superfluous thing to add, except that I rather suspect she wants to ensure that Stephanie knows that Bright is family and that Ephram is the only potential object of Amy's affections. But that’s just me. Ephram asks if Amy wants him to go with her, but Amy assures him that’s unnecessary. She tells Stephanie that it was nice to meet her, which sentiment Stephanie reciprocates, and heads off in pursuit of her wayward sibling. Stephanie returns her attention to Ephram, resuming the conversation they had apparently been having prior to Amy’s appearance, which would seem to focus on the topic of what incredibly lame superpower they’d like to have: “So, I’d rather be see-through.”

Amy has located Bright outside the bar, where he’s rather drunkenly waving his cell phone around in an attempt to get reception. Amy asks what he’s doing. He is, of course, calling Hannah, or at least attempting to do so: “I can’t get any bars...outside of the bar. How classical is that?” Amy smiles but cautions him against such an action. Bright, however, shrugs that he misses Hannah and that he thinks she should be there for his birthday. Amy gently informs him that she’s on a date with Nick, being careful to include the fact that he asked Hannah out, because I guess that makes it less painful. Bright chuckles rather bitterly and observes that it’s their second date. Amy replies that it won’t “be anything,” and urges Bright to put his phone away; “you’ll thank me in the morning.” We’ll...see. Bright makes a big production of closing his phone before declaring that he’s going to have another drink. Amy gives him a “Bright...” but Bright, sauntering into the bar, reminds her and everyone else in the general vicinity that “It’s my birthday!”

Meanwhile, and rather unfortunately for Bright, that second date seems to be going quite peachily. Nick has just been talking about himself and his experiences as a member of the swim team, and changes the subject to Hannah, asking if she’s applied to all her universities. Well, Nick, this episode aired in May, so it’s a fairly safe assumption. In any event, Hannah runs down the list of schools to which she’s applied, which include [but are not limited to, as we’ll learn in “Foreverwood”] Minnesota, Duke, Stanford, Colorado A&M, and her number-one choice, Notre Dame. Nick perks up at this, wondering if Hannah’s Catholic. She replies that she’s Episcopalian, actually, and an active churchgoer. Nick excitedly exclaims that he is, as well [Christian, that is], though he’s usually afraid to talk about it lest others think he’s trying to convert them. Hannah, sounding rather surprised by this intriguing bit of news, replies that she knows just what he means. She laughs, before looking slightly put-out. Nick asks what’s wrong. It’s a timing thing: Hannah wishes she had met him three months later. Nick jokingly asks if she’s a “big fan of summer? I’ve already told you what I look like in a Speedo!” Shut up, Nick. But both laugh, and, when things settle down, Hannah confesses that she’s just coming off the break-up of her “first real relationship,” and that it’s... Nick, sounding awfully disappointed, concludes that “it’s too soon.” Hannah admits that it is. Nick considers this a moment and suggests that they just see where she is in three months. Resuming joviality, he asks if they can at least have dessert, which Hannah enthusiastically assures him they can, particularly if it involves chocolate cheesecake. And everyone’s happy and blah blah blah and fine. Fine! Nick is basically what would result if someone created Hannah’s ideal mate, and if he were a little less...enthusiastic, and were British, and of a slighter build, and didn’t have that mildly disturbing Bright/Logan Huntzberger-hybrid quality about him, then he might in some respects be mine as well. But I still can’t get behind anyone whose existence causes the actual Bright pain.

And while we’re on the subject of Bright and pain, back to the party! Amy is leaning against the bar, looking annoyed, when Ephram strides in. Amy angrily asks where he’s been; he replies that he was walking Stephanie to her car. Amy declares that they need to get Bright out of there, as she apparently heard from...someone who cared, I guess, that he’s sick in the bathroom. As the camera pans out to reveal Bright standing about ten feet away, chugging from a pitcher, Ephram spots him and remarks that he seems to be feeling better. Amy shoves Ephram in Bright’s general direction, insisting that he has to help, as Bright won’t listen to her. Ephram informs Bright that the “party bus is about to leave.” Bright: *points in another direction* Ephram: *actually looks in other direction curiously while Bright chugs some more* Me: Heeeee. Ephram quickly catches on, however, and removes the pitcher from Bright’s hand, reinforcing this message with a “No more beer for you.” Having been deprived of his primary diversion, Bright picks up a cue and makes his way to the nearby pool table, while making the sage observation that while almost all hookers strip, virtually no strippers hook. Yes, it certainly is tragic that Hannah is missing out on all of this. Bright doubts momentarily that “hook” is a word, but then triumphantly recalls Captain Hook and, seriously, at the moment I’m considering standing as a witness at Hannah and Nick’s wedding. I mean, since we’re not in an alternate universe where Hannah/Ephram would be kosher. Amy, deeply weary, tells Bright that it’s time to go, but Bright climbs on a chair and exclaims that he’s about to perform a “trick shot for all the ladies in the house!” Ephram calls him an “idiot” and reminds him of his beslinged arm-edness, but this doesn’t stop Bright, who’s now leaning precariously on the table’s edge. He makes his shot, the force of which propels his body backwards and through the large window right behind him, ultimately landing on the sidewalk with a fairly sickening thud. Ephram dashes to the scene, with Amy a few steps behind, and orders someone to call 911.

Over in the one storyline currently untouched by Big Drama, Hannah and Nick exit the restaurant. Hannah thanks him for dinner and says it was fun, which he agrees it was. Once outside his car, Nick asks if they should try a kiss, “just to see if we have anything to look forward to?” Oh, Nick, and just when I was beginning not to find you nauseating. Hannah, however, accepts his proposition. Just as the two lean in, though, Hannah’s cell phone rings; upon noticing that the call is from Amy, she asks if Nick minds if she answers. Ha! That certainly bodes well. Nick, being Nick, is totally fine with this. Hannah picks up; Amy, standing at the scene of the accident, where EMTs are loading Bright into an ambulance, shakily urges her friend not to “freak out.” Hannah, of course, finds this greeting less than reassuring, and asks what’s wrong. Amy informs her of the accident, and adds that Bright’s being taken to the hospital. Hannah, freaking out just a little, exclaims “Oh, my God!” and asks if he’s okay. Amy, now crying, admits that she doesn’t know, and explains that he hit his head and is unconscious. Hannah, sounding increasingly shaky herself, asks where Amy is and if anyone is with her. Amy mentions Ephram and the bar, as well as the fact that Ephram is not allowed to ride in the ambulance, before telling Hannah that she has to go. Hannah urges her to “go, go, go,” and says she’ll meet Amy at the hospital. Ah, well. So long, Nick, unless you’re up for starring alongside James McAvoy in some bizarro, prettily accented version of Everwood. (Which I would totally watch, by the way, if only for the Glaswegian Greg Smith.) Meanwhile, Ephram, looking as distressed as Amy does, assures her that Bright will be okay, and they hug.

This last scene dissolves into a shot of the hospital entrance, as Harold and Rose hurry in to the waiting room where Amy, Ephram, and Hannah now already are. Harold asks Amy what happened, so Amy tells the story again. As Rose tearfully embraces her, Harold asks Ephram where Bright is; Ephram’s helpful answer is “back there.” A doctor, whom Harold greets as “Scott,” appears, and informs those gathered that Bright is stable, but has a “subdural” and “increased intercranial pressure,” though they fear a possible “herniation.” Harold asks if Bright is intubated, which he is; Rose has to ask what this means, only to be informed that it means Bright can’t breathe on his own. Dr. Scott optimistically concludes that if they can’t find some way to relieve the pressure, Bright will likely bleed out and die. He adds that he should probably go back inside, and Harold urges him on. Harold and Rose both sigh; Rose wonders “Now what?” Harold replies that they “wait,” and puts his arm over Rose’s shoulder.

Of course, sometimes this show gets a little bored waiting, and decides to while away the time by queuing up the “Sad, Thoughtful Music” playlist on its iPod and assembling a possibly superfluous montage. Harold and Rose deal with the payment; Dr. Scott operates; Edna and Irv arrive; Ephram gets Amy coffee, or possibly cocoa, or noodle soup, or, most likely, some combination thereof, from a vending machine; Hannah sits in front of an aquarium and looks sad; Dr. Scott does some more operating; and, finally, Dr. Scott appears in the waiting room and says things we can’t hear, because Patty Griffin is singing too loudly. The montage concludes, oddly, with a fade-out into a blinding flash of light.

From the White Light of Misplaced Symbolism we segue to an exterior shot of the Brown house, and, from there, into Delia’s bedroom, because the set people found some furniture they'd tucked away somewhere. Eugene knocks on Delia’s open door and offers an unusually cheerful morning greeting, which Delia, who’s sitting on her bed and sorting through pictures, returns. Eugene asks where Andy is, and Delia informs him that he had to go to the hospital to see someone. I’m glad he only went in a friendly capacity, by the way; it would’ve been just a little lame from a narrative perspective if he had capped off each season by performing Important Surgery on an Important Character/A Character We’ve Never Seen Before but Who’s Important to Andy. Eugene asks if Andy makes a habit of leaving Delia alone, but Delia reminds Eugene that she’s not alone, and also adds that Andy told her Eugene makes good pancakes, though she didn’t want to wake him. Eugene asks what Delia is doing. She is, as it happens, working on something for her bat mitzvah. Eugene is all “Your what now?” Delia explains what it is, and Eugene draws back a bit, remarking that Andy isn’t Jewish. Delia, however, notes that Julia was, and that Andy is trying hard, what with finding her a coach, “except he’s called a cantor,” and...wait! What happened to Cute Rabbi? He wasn’t a cantor. Hmph. Anyway, Delia continues that Andy is letting her have a big party, though he wants to plan it all. Eugene is rather surprised to learn that Andy wants to plan a party. Delia questions Eugene’s questioning tone, but Eugene replies that he didn’t realize how involved a parent Andy is, especially as he still remembers workaholic New York Neurosurgeon Andy. Delia shrugs and remarks that as Julia’s gone, Andy doesn’t have much of a choice: “We’re very needy.” Hee. Eugene, rather charmed by his granddaughter, asks if that’s so. Delia continues that “Ephram was way worse than me,” and that while Andy and Ephram are in good shape now, “last year wasn’t pretty.” Eugene, looking over the family photos, observes that they all seem “pretty happy” to him. Delia breezily replies that they “do okay,” before making a face and telling Eugene that the pictures he’s looking at are “terrible” and that she has better ones, which she plans to use in a video slide show at the reception. Eugene rather dubiously reiterates that she’s having a slide show, but Delia declares that since she had to learn a new language for this, she deserves something. Heh.

Rose, in a hospital hallway, sips noodle mocha and looks worried. Harold approaches and sighs that he’s been looking everywhere for her. Rose morosely remarks that she “never thought [she’d] spend so much time in a hospital again. Not for this.” Harold insists that Bright’s going to be okay, but that’s not Rose’s only concern, as she wipes away a tear and says that she needs to tell Harold something, something which she thinks she should have told him sooner. Harold stops her, though, saying that he just received a phone call from Dr. Chao [closed captioning: “Chow,” because my CC, unlike Amy, is not a member of TWoP]: Rose’s report is in, and her PET scan was clean. Rose, stunned, pauses for a moment before asking “What?” Harold replies that she’s officially in remission. As Rose continues to be stunned, Harold goes on that while he knows it’s “impossible” to take everything in at the moment, it’s wonderful news. Rose shakes her head a little, and Harold asks what it was that Rose needed to tell him. Rose, of course, no longer has an answer. She’s saved from having to explain, though, by Irv, who appears in the hallway and calls their names. Harold asks if Bright is awake, which he is not; Irv is just there to inform them that he’s being moved from ICU and can have visitors. They hurry off.

Andy is hanging out in his living room, looking glum and drinking again. Eugene stands behind the couch for a moment before informing Andy that he was right about Eugene's not being entirely truthful. While Andy glowers, Eugene admits that he didn’t come just to see Ephram and Delia. Eugene interprets Andy’s “Okay...” as an invitation to enter the living room proper and take a seat. He explains that after his hip surgery two months earlier, he decided to visit Andy’s old hospital, in the hope of seeing his son; instead, he learned about Andy’s move and Julia’s death. Andy glowers some more, while Eugene confesses how sorry he was to hear about it, as Andy knows how much he loved his daughter-in-law. Andy replies that he does know this. Eugene suddenly takes a slightly weird turn and says that he thought her death “would make all this easier.” Andy, not unreasonably, wonders what constitutes “all this.” What Eugene means is the very act of seeing Andy; “I figured you’d be so miserable and lonely, you’d take whatever two-bit apology I could come up with and forgive me on the spot for every wrong thing I’d ever done. But you’re not miserable.” He seems somewhat disappointed by this, though Andy, eyes beginning to twinkle with mirth rather than loathing and resentment, assures him, “I have my days.” Eugene observes that Andy is surrounded by people who love him because he’s “worked for it,” which Eugene himself never did. Andy admits that he understands the “impulse to walk away,” as he followed it often when Julia was alive. He goes on to state the painfully obvious: “You know, you and I have a lot more in common than I care to admit.” Eugene, however, thinks they differ in one respect: “You’ve changed.” He shakes his head a bit before continuing that while he’s made many mistakes in his life, “you were never one of them.” He’s proud of Andy’s accomplishments and truly sorry for letting him down throughout the years. Andy absorbs this for a moment before asking if Eugene’s only reason for visiting was to offer this apology. Eugene: “Basically.” Andy quickly asks if Eugene isn’t dying; Eugene chuckles and remarks that Andy always had “a flair for the dramatic.” He insists that he is not dying, “but if that’s what it’ll take to get a second chance with you, I could probably run out there and catch something.” Now Andy laughs. After a moment, he muses that it might have been different if his mother had died when he was younger. Eugene thinks it might have been, but admits that he had plenty of chances to reunite with Andy and still “blew it.” Andy doubts this; “you’re sitting here now, aren’t you?” Eugene nods; growing thoughtful, he remarks that he misses Andy’s mother every day. Andy, of course, says that he knows just how Eugene feels. And then...more silence and pensiveness. It’s kind of a rule with this show.

Now, the following scene should, by all rights, be cheesy enough to reactivate my childhood lactose intolerance, but darned if these two don’t sell it. Bright’s lying in his hospital bed, still unconscious; Hannah appears in the doorway and, rather trepidatiously, approaches his bedside. Once there, she gingerly grasps his bandaged hand and arm, sits beside him on some chair that is apparently there, and tearfully whispers “Please don’t die.” After saying “please” a few more times, she lets it all out and collapses, sobbing, onto Bright’s arm. Huh. It just occurred to me that it’s almost identical to what she does at her desk at the end of “Truth,” which is...irrelevant, but interesting. To me. Hannah’s sobbing, however, is apparently interesting to at least one other individual. Bright’s eyelids begin to flutter; he glances down at Hannah, and responds to her request: “Okay.” And that is why this scene works. Hannah looks up, startled; she gasps at first, but this quickly turns into a happily surprised laughter, and she concludes the scene by gazing serenely at Bright. I do hope that Nick has alternate plans in place for the summer. And, also, I’m not sure what it says about Bright that his most charming moment of the episode came after sustaining a severe head injury. Eh, well, he’s going to be awesome again from here on out, so whatever works, I suppose.

And here we have a truly lovely exterior shot of the Harper property and home. Irv is in the kitchen, listening to Rosemary Clooney and preparing breakfast in bed for Edna. Next to the plate on the tray, he sets a key down on top of a card labeled “My sweet Edna” [I have never before used so many prepositions in a single sentence]. He tucks the newspaper under his arm, picks up the tray, and turns to leave when he suddenly gasps and lapses into slow-motion, dropping the tray, clutching his chest, and falling to the floor, where he remains, motionless, as we fade out. Oh, Irv!

Next time: Irv’s funeral! Flashbacks! People being sad! Recap being unfunny! Whoot!