Goodbye Love

May I just say upfront how apt Irv’s death was, particularly coming where it did in the series? Irv told Everwood’s, and more precisely Andy’s, story in A Mountain Town. When our own version of that story came to its conclusion, so did the life of that story’s own storyteller. So: horribly depressing as this episode may be, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

And yet we open with Eugene, in the Brown kitchen, pouring coffee grounds into his hand and eyeing them quizzically. Ephram, in suit and coat, walks through the back door and asks his grandfather if he needs any help. Eugene, who’s decided to return to the cranky shtick, grumbles at length about the disappearance of the “fossil fuel”-reminiscent instant coffee from the American gastronomical landscape. Ephram drily concurs that “we all miss the good old days.” Andy strides in, reminding Ephram that the service is in half an hour and asking if Eugene is sure he doesn’t mind minding Delia. Eugene’s suddenly feeling witty, and says it depends on what the going rate for babysitters currently is. Andy, playing along, thinks Eugene owes him, given that he missed Delia’s birth and all. Ephram, the one Brown man not in the mood to banter, asks if Delia really doesn’t want to attend the funeral, which is quite a good point for him to make, given that she was the major player in the scene that first introduced us to Irv way back in the Pilot. Andy, though, says that she’d prefer to stay home; “how many funerals are you supposed to attend before you’re thirteen, you know?” Ephram responds with pensiveness. Nina enters and apologizes for running late. Andy assures her she’s on time, and asks if Jake is almost ready. Turns out not, as Nina breathlessly explains that the home inspectors showed up a day early and the buyers are also on their way; while Ephram offers Eugene a prepared cup of coffee, Nina adds that Jake feels “terrible” and will try to be at the service ASAP. Andy declares that they should go, then, and as the three funeral attendants head for the door, Andy tells Eugene that he’ll call him after the service. Eugene assures him that he and Delia will be fine, and urges Andy to “go and say goodbye to your friend now.” Andy nods in response, and the group exits. Eugene, meanwhile, takes a sip of his coffee before shuffling over to the table, upon which he finds a copy of A Mountain Town. After examining the cover, he opens the book and starts reading. Credits, where Irv still lives!

Everwood’s All-Purpose Church. The minister, having presumably just concluded saying something, sort of beckons Harold to the front in order to present the eulogy. Harold walks up and takes his position at the pulpit, while the camera pans over the rows of grieving family, regular cast members, and recurring Everwoodians. He begins by saying that he would thank everyone there for attending, “but I don’t imagine there’s anyone here who didn’t come of their own accord.” He cites Irv’s integrity and warmth, and says that those who knew him could consider themselves “amongst the luckiest.” Irv, he continues, “was, above everything else, a storyteller,” and, as such, he considers it only fitting to relate his own favorite story about Irv. “It begins six years ago, and, ironically, just a few short months after the untimely death of another great man: my father...”

Flashback No. 1! Harold peppily enters his [old] office and apologizes to “Mr. Harper” for meeting him there instead of in an exam room, explaining that he’s been booked since his father’s death. “Being the sole doctor in Everwood is an exhausting distinction, I can assure you.” Oh, I do love the slightly dorky quality of flashback foreshadowing [aftshadowing?]. Harold asks why Irv is there; Irv solemnly replies that Edna thought he should come. Harold, blissfully ignorant, observes that he’s more used to Edna “frightening the patients away” than “luring them in.” Irv shifts rather uncomfortably in his chair, and begins that he doesn’t know if Harold is aware that he and Edna have become “friendly” in the two months since the death of Harold Sr. Harold glances at him, looking only slightly disgusted, as Irv adds a “my condolences on that.” Harold, in highly Haroldian tones, expresses his appreciation for the sentiments, calling Irv “Mr. Harper” in the process. Irv suggests that Harold just call him Irv, but Harold prefers to address his patients more formally: “Maintaining professional distance is paramount to the task of caring for the town’s infirm.” I truly do adore nearly every utterance that emanates from Harold’s mouth. Irv suppresses a smile and professes his own belief that “Irv” would be easier. Harold, in turn, smiles wryly upon realizing that Irv isn’t actually there for a prostate exam. Irv: “No, I think I’m here to give one.” He laughs at his own snark. Harold glares awesomely. Irv’s laughter dies down, and he sardonically wonders if Harold “laugh[s] much?” Harold does, “when I feel so inclined.” Irv wonders how frequently that is. Harold: “Not.” Irv, looking slightly ill, nods. Harold continues that while he may be a native Everwoodian, he is not, like most, “an idiot,” and is therefore perfectly aware of Edna and Irv’s relationship. He guesses that Irv is there in order to ask Harold’s permission to make things public. Irv grants this, “in a way...” Harold fails to pick up on the import of that hedging, and declares that the people of Everwood “are even more narrow-minded than they are stupid,” and thus will not appreciate Edna’s having “hurled herself into the arms of another man so soon,” especially not given that Irv is... Irv: “A black dude.” Harold thinks that their phrasing might be more “colorful,” which itself seems like a potentially questionable word choice. Irv, however, informs Harold that he’s “no stranger to racism,” and that neither he nor Edna really cares what others think. They do, however, care what Harold thinks and, to that end, Irv would like Harold’s blessing to “make an honest woman” of Edna. Harold offers us a genuine bugeyed expression and splutters “What?!” Irv, taking Harold’s outburst quite literally, jovially explains that he’s asking Edna to marry him. Harold, of course, knows what Irv meant and disbelievingly asks if Irv is “as crazy as she is?!” Irv smiles some more and offers a casual “probably.” Harold asks if Irv really didn’t hear anything that he just said. Irv did, “but I didn’t take it very seriously.” Harold: “Well, you should! So should she!! Dear GOD!!!” (It looks a little over-the-top, but I don’t know a better way to approximate Tom Amandes’ delightfully indignant delivery here.) Calming down a little, by which I mean, “turning salmon instead of beet red,” Harold continues that while it’s one thing for a grieving widow to temporarily turn to another man, marriage is another matter entirely. Oh, sorry, that should read “MARRIAGE?!” Irv calmly replies that Edna predicted Harold’s reaction. Harold chuckles bitterly about this, while Irv says that he just thought he’d try, given how much his approval would mean to both of them. Harold continues to laugh rather madly, and declares that he’ll give them something better than his approval: “I am going to pretend that this conversation never occurred.” He opens the door and Irv takes the hint, though positively beams as he prepares to exit. Before departing, however, he genially informs Harold that it was “nice chatting with you.” Harold rolls his eyes at this.

Harold and Rose...whoa! Some kind of crazy, mullet-like thing on Merrilyn Gann’s head! And suddenly I recall the downside of flashback episodes, for when will we finally learn that wigs are never the answer? In any event, Harold and Rose are at home, discussing things. Rose doesn’t see a problem, while Harold exclaims some more about “marriage. Marriage!” Rose is clearly amused by his ranting, which is now concentrated on the subject of how little Edna could know about Irv beyond his being “some vagabond that she met at a church picnic.” Rose, enjoying this, suggests that Irv could be “a homicidal maniac, preying on hungry, churchgoing women!” Hee. Harold, sounding defeated: “Don’t get my hopes up.” Hee, again. Rose finally concurs that it is rather “hasty,” but advises that if Harold just talks to Edna about his qualms, she might listen. Harold retorts that they’re not dealing with a “rational individual.” Rose, in surprisingly sharp tones, rebuts that Edna is “extremely rational.” Harold allows that this may be true as pertains to her interaction with everyone else, but not with him, and that he suspects that after the conversation he had with Irv, “I’ll be lucky to keep all of my appendages when next we meet.” And lo! Who should choose that moment to break in but Edna, wielding a newly-honed knife! Well, not so much on that last part, but you wouldn’t know it to watch Harold’s utterly panicked reaction. As Edna calls out hello, Harold, with Rose close behind, creeps cautiously towards the door, through which a perfectly pleasant Edna has just entered. Seeing Harold, she warmly exclaims “There you are!” and marches up to him, cradling his face and declaring him “the best son any woman could ask for!” She clasps his arms, continuing that Irv told her “everything;” Harold and Rose, both looking genuinely at sea, ask “he did?” in unison. Edna, outright gushing now, goes on about how “understanding” and “supportive” Irv said Harold was, much to her joyful surprise, as she expected him to react as his “usual stiff-shirted, dipwaddy self.” Harold interjects an “actually...” but Edna cuts him off, continuing that Harold knows that she loved his father, but that she feels as though Harold Sr. sent her Irv “as a way of saying, ‘Keep on living, Doll Cakes!” ...Doll Cakes? Like, this? Because that's remarkably unsettling. In any event, Edna is very glad that Harold could see that, too. Harold lamely offers another protestation, but is ignored as Edna says that she and Irv had initially planned to get married at City Hall, but have now realized that if Harold can get on board with things, why can’t the entire town? To that end, Edna’s decided to have a big ceremony, and at the Abbott house! She slaps Harold’s cheeks [on his face. Geez] a few times, as Harold throws on a painfully fake grin of acquiescence.

Abbott House. A kicky keyboard version of “Bridal March” plays and, man, the sound of that goofy little electronic pseudo-samba beat just takes me right back to the church we attended when I was 12, which temporarily had to meet in a school gymnasium due to financial and construction issues and, more to the point, at which the pastor’s wife was the keyboardist [you meet in a gym, it’s a little difficult to have a proper organ and piano set-up], and used those settings for every. single. hymn. You really haven’t lived until you’ve heard the lounge version of Martin Luther’s greatest hits. Anyway, Thurman, who is playing said keyboard, asks Harold if his plans to open with the "Wedding March" and segue into "Ave Maria" sound good. Harold, booze in hand: “Do I look as though I care, Thurman?” And he really doesn’t. Meanwhile, Edna and Irv are standing by the front window; Edna remarks, a little concernedly, that the wedding is scheduled for 3, yet no one’s arrived. Rose, whose fake hair has mercifully mellowed a bit, bustles in to inform them that she just spoke with Brenda Baxworth, whose back has apparently gone out. Edna snits that she didn’t want to invite Brenda anyway. Irv suggests that he and Edna just go ahead without an audience. Rose cheerfully agrees that they can, and calls to Bright and Amy, who are apparently upstairs, to hurry down. Harold, now seated, shakes his head. Edna asks if Irv is sure the flier said 3:00; Harold, annoyed, exclaims that it’s “absurd,” as Edna knows “perfectly well why they’re not here: it’s a boycott!” Edna repeats this last word questioningly. Harold stands and wonders if Edna really expected anyone to “endorse this ridiculous arrangement.” Rose says his name in admonishing tones, but Harold continues, declaring that “enough is enough.” Edna protests that she thought Harold supported their plans. Harold chuckles and suggests that she ask Irv how their conversation actually went. Edna, sounding a little betrayed, asks Irv if he lied to her. Harold exclaims that “of course he did!” and that, furthermore, “there’s no telling what number of things the man is lying about, because the man is a perfect stranger!” Edna wonders why Harold didn’t just tell her how he felt. Harold rebuts that he tried, but Edna was too busy acting as though she’d “just won the Publishers Clearing House!” Edna asks why, if the entire town agrees with Harold, Thurman is there? Easy: because Harold’s paying him, of course. Edna orders Thurman out, prompting poor Thurman to hastily gather up his keyboard books and make a mad escape. Rose: “Just stay upstairs, kids!” Ha! Smooth way to avoid having to cast a 13- and 15-year-old Amy and Bright, though I might have paid good money to have seen Emily VanCamp and Chris Pratt try to pull that one off. Edna hisses to Harold “You want to do this? Let’s just do it.” Harold replies with a firm, and rather smug, “By all means.” Then: Edna: “You’re upset because I like my coffee hot and black.” Hold your laughter for now, because: Harold: “First: eeew.” There we go: Heeee. Harold continues in a less hilarious vein, saying that that’s not what upsets him; what bothers him is the fact that his father’s “body isn’t even cold,” yet Edna’s “behaving like a lovesick teenager.” Harold deems this “bizarre,” “disrespectful,” and “painful to those of us who are still grieving.” Edna angrily orders him not to tell her about grieving, as she “cried [her] eyes out silly” over Harold Sr. Harold snots that it must have been “a tough month.” Edna rebuts that Harold had them return to work just a week after the death, and – whoa. I just rewound and paused my tape, and now my closed-captioning reads: EREREREREREREOWOWOWOWOWOW. I feel as though it’s trying to tell me something, albeit in slightly hysterical tones. So, Harold in turn argues that he didn’t make Edna come back, and that, in any case, his father’s death didn’t stop people from needing his services. Shoutiness is evidently contagious, as Irv suddenly comes over and wonders if “anyone in this family can get a word in edgewise?!” He urges them to “cool down” in order to let him apologize, as “all of this – and I mean all of this – is my fault.” Harold rolls his eyes, as Irv continues that marriage was his idea, as he believes it’s the honorable thing to do in a serious relationship, and explains that he lied about the outcome of his conversation with Harold because he didn’t want to break Edna’s heart, “just when I’m getting to know it.” He admits that Harold is right insofar as he and Edna can’t love each other as two people who’ve spent a lifetime together can, and that the timing is abysmal, “but it’s just the way it is.” Harold pouts some more, as Irv says that he means no disrespect to Harold Sr., and is sorry he’ll never have the chance to get to know him, “because he sure kept great company.” (Though...wouldn’t a change in those circumstances make this wedding just a wee bit awkward?) Irv turns to Rose, whom he kisses on the hand, and thanks her for opening the Abbott home to them; however, he thinks it best if he and Edna just go to City Hall. Rose nods her understanding, as Irv turns back to Edna and declares that he doesn’t want her opening her mouth again until she says ‘I do.’ They begin to leave, while Harold continues the poutfest. Edna brings their departure to a momentary halt, and asks Harold if he still thinks she’s crazy. Harold: *pouts in resignation* Edna and Irv finally exit.

Harold’s voice, which is coming from someplace other than 2001 Harold, says that he’s been wrong many times in his life; we now transition back to Irv’s funeral, as Harold continues that he was never more wrong than he was in assuming that Irv and Edna’s love for each other was “temporary.” Rather, “the love that they shared was a living example of God’s grace on this earth;” Irv himself, meanwhile, lived in Everwood for a long enough time to change them all, “but still far too short a time.” Harold concludes that they’ve come to say goodbye to him “with heavy hearts and with weary souls,” outlines Irv’s various roles – husband, father, grandfather, “friend to us all” – and finally declares that Irv will be missed. Several main characters, and random townies we haven’t seen before, cry, though Harold smiles wistfully, because he enjoys making people cry. Upon the eulogy’s conclusion, Harold returns down the aisle, pausing to squeeze Edna’s shoulder before resuming his seat, his expression now gloomy. Are we having fun yet? Whoo!

Brown living room. Delia reclines on a couch reading some teen magazine, while Eugene kicks back in an armchair, clearly enjoying the dickens out of Irv’s novel. He laughs, prompting Delia to ask what’s so funny. Eugene ascribes his mirth to the “country doctor” character: “He’s snappy!” Eugene chuckles a few more times before noticing Delia’s reading material and questioning it, remarking that he thought she was reading Little Women. She wearily replies that she was, but that she could tell Beth’s death was imminent, “and frankly, I can’t really handle it right now.” Which makes me sad for Delia, but also makes me wonder if she chose to put the book in the freezer. [Bonus points for everyone who gets that reference! Not that you’re earning any other kind of points by reading this, which I suppose thus renders the “bonus” sort of superfluous. Um.] Eugene sighs sympathetically. The phone suddenly rings from behind the pillow upon which Delia had just been resting her head; retrieving it, Delia explains that she likes to “keep it close,” and answers: “Brown residence.” The caller turns out to be Andy, who is currently transporting himself, Nina, and Ephram to the wake. He repeats her greeting and observes that it’s new. Delia wonders if it’s too formal, which Andy thinks it might be. He asks for Eugene; Delia offers the phone to her grandfather, who asks Andy how he’s “holding up.” Andy remarks that he was going to ask the same of Eugene, who responds that he and Delia are fine. Andy tells him what I already said about driving to the wake, and adds that he’ll call again when they’re on their way home, and that if Eugene needs to reach him– Eugene, his eyes still glued to the book, cuts Andy off and says that they’ll see him later, before ending the call and handing the phone back to Delia, whose eyes haven’t left her own reading material.

Back to the car, where Andy observes that his father just hung up on him. “Why am I not surprised?” Heh. Ephram suddenly espies a market and suggests they stop there to pick up something to take to Edna. Andy likes this idea, and pulls into the parking lot. Nina, meanwhile, has spent all her screentime in this scene looking rather dazed; Andy finally notices this, and asks if she’s all right. Nina, sounding like she looks, says that she can’t believe it’s real, and was waiting throughout the service for someone to say there had been a mistake. Ephram sits in the back, listening thoughtfully and generally being typically Ephramian. Andy says that he knows, while Nina continues that she sees Irv every day at Sam’s, and was used to his being a part of her life. She notes, though, that she guesses she wouldn’t have been seeing him daily any more anyway; “I won’t be seeing anyone every day any more *starts to hyperventilate*.” Andy says her name with concern; Nina apologizes and says she just got a little dizzy. Andy feels her forehead in a presumably doctorly way, except that he starts to caress it a little and I have a flashback to the Sexy Lice-Picking Session. Adding to the weirdness is Ephram’s presence, of which we are reminded when the camera focuses on him watching the frontseat proceedings. Andy hastily pulls his hand away and urges Nina to stay in the car with Ephram, while he gets her something to eat in the market. Andy leaves, and Nina throws her head back and sighs heavily. Ephram suggests they get some fresh air, which idea Nina likes. They get out of the car; as Nina leans against the front and sighs again, Ephram asks if she’s freaked out about moving. Nina admits that she is, and that she had been avoiding thinking about all of the goodbyes she’ll have to say by operating under the assumption that she would make so many return visits that it wouldn’t be necessary; “how do you say goodbye to people you’ve known your whole life?” Irv’s death, she continues, has made her realize how important it is to get closure while she can, because “there’s too many times in life when you just don’t get the chance, and then you’re just left feeling like...” Ephram finishes her thought: “...you have a cut that never healed properly and now you have a scar that will never go away?” Nina gazes at him in amazement as he continues that the metaphorical scar functions as a reminder of all the things you didn’t do when you had the chance. Nina nods a bit; both are silent for a moment before Ephram explains that he didn’t hug Julia the day that she died. “She tried to, but I was upset or nervous about my recital or something, so I just pushed her away. That’s my scar.” Hey. Hey! This is almost the very conversation that I said he should’ve had with Hannah when her father died! It didn’t even have to be this long, just a couple of lines of dialogue exchanged. Geez, where was Berlanti when they were writing that whole Hannah two-parter? *grumbles fruitlessly and inexplicably wants to kick Ephram, Berlanti, and the writers of “Pro Choice” and “So Long, Farewell” in the shin* Hmph. Anyhoo, Nina is sorry, but Ephram says it’s okay; it’s just that events like this prompt him to think of all the things that he would do or not do if he knew he’d never have another chance. Nina asks if anything’s come to mind today. Ephram admits that something has, but he’s not sure if performing the act in question would simply be a matter of being honest, or if it would involve betraying another’s trust, concluding that it’s a “fine line.” Nina concedes this, but also somehow seems to realize that the information must involve her, as she tells Ephram he’s a “bright guy” and that she “trust[s] his instincts,” all while giving him a slight sidelong smile. Ephram runs with this, and says that in that case, he has something to tell her. Nina suddenly appears stunned, making me second-guess my assumption of two sentences ago.

Flashback Sequence Number Two! While Past Ephram sits outside Andy’s office, Present Ephram explains that a few weeks prior, he was waiting to meet Andy for lunch; he inaccurately adds that it was also the last time that he saw Irv, which I suppose might be true if several weeks elapsed between the final two scenes of the last episode, or if Ephram passed the time in the hospital waiting room in that same ep by playing blindfolded Hide and Seek. I’m feeling unusually generous tonight; let’s give Berlanti the benefit of the doubt on this one! So, on cue, Irv and Andy exit the latter’s office; Irv greets Ephram with a hearty “long time, no see!” and they shake hands. Ephram asks how Irv is, to which Irv replies that he’s “healthy as a horse!” at least according to Andy. Ephram jokes that Andy “knows nothing about medicine,” and Andy jokes, in turn, that Ephram has to buy lunch now, and this certainly is a darkly comic little exchange, isn’t it? Irv, unaware of the dramatic irony in which he’s currently drowning, asks Ephram how Bright is, as he’s just heard about the break-up. Well, that effectively kills the first possible explanation; blindfolded Hide and Seek it was! Ephram shrugs that Bright’s going through a bit of a “tough time.” Irv offers a sympathetic “poor kid,” and says he should call Bright. Ephram thinks Bright would appreciate that, and Irv and Ephram say their goodbyes. Forever [except for that time in the hospital a couple of weeks later]! Andy proceeds to head back into his office, Ephram right behind him, and asks where Ephram wants to eat, adding a firm “Besides Sam’s.” Ephram wonders why Sam’s is out; Andy breezily replies that he thought they could try something new – “Get out there! Expand our horizons.” Ephram fixes him with a stern gaze, prompting Andy to smile ruefully and confess that he can’t see Nina at the moment. Ephram declares himself “intrigued.” Andy explains that two days earlier, he and Nina “had a thing – a moment. There was lice involved.” Hee. Also, we can now at least securely place this flashback right after “All the Lonely People,” thus proving once and for all that Berlanti totally fell down on the ‘minor points of continuity’ job here. Tsk. Ephram, in reference to the lice rather than the continuity screw-up: “Okay, now I’m disgusted.” Andy continues that Nina hinted to still having feelings for him; Ephram thinks this is “great,” and asks what Andy’s going to do. Andy, as we well know, doesn’t know. Ephram suddenly grows very dramatic and exclaims, “Go for it. Seize the day. O captain, my captain!” punctuating this last part with theatrical hand gestures. Andy gives him a delightful, and not at all unreasonable, baffled look. Ephram apologetically explains that there was an Ethan Hawke marathon on TV. Andy cuts him off here, but he didn’t in the original broadcast, because I distinctly recall Ephram proceeding to go off on a tangent about Call of the Wild, and I am deeply annoyed that ABC Family somehow felt it necessary to cut what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds of dialogue, because I love it when characters go off on tangents, and...uh. Were we in the middle of something? So, Andy interjects that he “can’t seize anything; I seized the day last year, and it blew up in my face.” And deservedly so, because you were frankly awful last year. But, proving that that was S3 and this is S4, Andy continues that regardless of whatever feelings Nina may have for him, she’s also in love with Jake, and thus possibly confused; he concludes that it’s best to “wait for her to make the first move.” Ephram, deeply unimpressed, asks if “waiting” is really Andy’s big plan. Andy challenges Ephram to offer a better idea; Ephram denies having one, but argues that Andy won’t be able to simply wait; “you’re gonna go crazy if you don’t take some kind of action.” Andy indignantly avers that “‘Patience’ is my middle name! I am all about maintaining the zen of my motorcycle or whatever that book says.” Is it wrong for an episode centered upon a major character’s death to generate this many hees? Because, really. This might be the funniest episode since “Across the Lines.” I feel rather awkward. Ephram doesn’t ease the situation any by urging Andy not to “go all aging beatnik” on him: “I can’t take it. I’ll lose my appetite.” The Brown men walk out of the office...

...and suddenly Andy is alone, striding along Everwood’s lone sidewalk, past the jewelry store which figured so prominently in the very same episode as the Lice Sexiness. Something in the window display having caught his attention, he doubles back and peers at it more closely.

And now we’re in the Brown living room, where father and son have been reunited. Ephram remarks that Andy is lucky Ephram doesn’t have “a girlfriend or a life of any sort. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to come by at the drop of a hat.” Andy’s response is to breathe deeply and hand Ephram a small jewelry box, which he urges him to open. Ephram thanks him, but thinks he’d prefer a new Treo. Andy smiles and, as Ephram examines the object, asks for confirmation that it’s nice. Aw, he bought him a man-bracelet! Or not. Ephram, a little surprised, replies that he knew Andy was going to do something, but he didn’t expect it to be something that big; “I knew that you couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.” Andy, however, says that he’s not going to propose. Ephram quite reasonably wonders why, then, Andy is holding a diamond ring. As it happens, Andy’s realized that Ephram was right about his needing to take action; buying the ring allowed him to feel as though he was, at least in some way. Ephram argues that Andy can’t buy a ring without using it; “that’d be like, uh...” Andy completes his thought: “Like, uh, what – writing a postcard every day and never sending it to someone?” Burn! Ephram: “Don’t use my embarrassing secrets against me. That’s not fair.” Though, if even the addressee of those unsent postcards has seen them, is it really much of a secret any more? Andy laughs and explains that he’d be happy to actually use the ring, provided that Nina decides on her own that she wants to be with him; “I’ll propose to her right then and there!” Ephram offers an appropriately intense sigh of “Wow.” Andy knows. Ephram’s only other comment is that he hopes Nina chooses Andy. Andy does, too.

Return to the present, where Nina, looking thoroughly unnerved, breathes that she “do[esn’t] know what to say.” Ephram apologizes for telling her something that will “mess with [her] head,” though that wasn’t his intention. Nina asks why he did tell her, then. Sounding thoughtful, Ephram explains that Andy has spent the past four years trying to do the right thing [well, three years and that one personal trainwreck of a season {though it wasn’t the otherwise-awesome season’s fault}], offering multiple examples: moving the family to Everwood based on Julia’s wish, ending relationships at Ephram’s request or out of sheer selflessness [yes, nothing more selfless than breaking up with a woman because her previously comatose husband, AKA your patient, has just awoken]. The point to which Ephram is getting is that Andy would never tell Nina about the ring, “’cause he doesn’t think he has a right to. Maybe he’s right, maybe he doesn’t. But I do, because he’s my dad. I want to see him happy. I think he deserves it. I think you do, too.” Nina takes all this in, as Andy moseys on over, toting a large, very full paper bag and remarking that he thinks he “may have gone a little overboard” based on indecision. He offers Nina a sandwich and urges her to take a bite, as she still looks pale. Nina silently accepts the proffered food, while Andy asks if Ephram is okay, observing that he, too, looks pale. Er...is this something that’s just come to Andy’s attention? Because it’s been fairly obvious for years to others who have the faculty of sight. Ephram, however, merely shakes his head and assures Andy that he’s fine. Andy declares that it’s time to go pay their respects, then, and sets the bag in the backseat of the car. Ephram and, a few seconds later, Nina, follow Andy’s lead to the vehicle.

And now for what I suspect was Rina’s central contribution to the script! While Irv’s wake is taking place in the Harper house proper, Bright is sitting on a bench in the backyard, looking pensive. Has Bright ever been the subject of that particular predicate adjective before? Intriguingly, Bright’s head injury of the last episode apparently came with the unexpected side effect of repairing his broken hand, as the cast is now vanished. (Also intriguing is the fact that the doctors managed to perform brain surgery without touching a hair on his head, but I’m not going to complain about that one. And also, I appear to have developed something of a fixation with hair this recap.) So, while he sits, deep in thought, Hannah walks up behind him and greets him with a casual “Hey.” Bright, a little startled, greets her back and, shifting rather nervously, says that he didn’t know she was there. Hannah replies that she just arrived, continuing a theme of this season that involves Hannah featuring in awesome funeral-based scenes. Bright remarks, by way of explanation for his location, that he “can’t really deal with all the people yet” and needed to clear his head. Hannah apologetically says that she understands, and offers to leave; Bright, though, cutely – and not at all surprisingly – insists that she’s “not people,” and moves a little to make room for her on the bench. Hannah sits, and the two are silent for a moment before Bright says that Irv had been calling him regarding the break-up, and that he never called him back. Hannah assures him that she’s sure Irv understood, but Bright replies with a less-than-convinced “yeah,” before noting that “there wouldn’t even be ‘me and you’ if it wasn’t for Irv, and I couldn’t even take time to pick up the damn phone.” Hannah, understandably curious, wonders what Irv had to do with “you and me.” (Ha! I love the subtle grammar correction implicit here, especially as it just took me about five attempts to accurately transcribe Bright’s preceding statement, as my brain kept converting “wasn’t” to “weren’t.”) Bright remarks that Irv actually had quite a bit to do with them, beginning his explanation at a high point in his recent personal history: “It was after all the sexual harrassment stuff last year...” Bwah! So casual. The expression on Hannah’s face is even more priceless, all “Yeah...I probably should’ve taken that into greater consideration before falling in love with this doofus.” As we begin to cut to Flashback the Third, Bright continues that things, in general, were “crappy,” and just about everyone was absent: Ephram was in New York for his Juilliard Audition of Doom, while “Amy was being a bigger freak than normal.” Hannah, in voice-over fashion, attributes Amy’s freakiness to her having just learned about the Ephram/Madison baby. Bright: “Ohhh, right. Yeah, I never really put that together.” Hee. While S3-Era, Bathrobe-Clad Irv wanders about his office, preparing toast and coffee, VO Bright continues that he had no one to talk to, and neither did Irv, who was then separated from Edna and living in his office; thus it was that the two began to spend some time together. As the flashback truly begins, someone – Bright, of course – knocks on Irv’s office door and enters. Irv, not bothering to look up from his morning paper, informs Bright that the coffee’s in the pot and an “Egg Mc-Whatever-You-Call-It” is on the George Foreman Grill, ready to be, well, grilled. Bright thanks him, and asks what Irv is reading, referring, I sincerely hope, and Irv assumes, to which section of the paper, because otherwise Bright is a sadder case than I thought. Irv replies that he’s reading the classified ads, prompting Bright to ask if Irv isn’t even going to wait to see how well his book does before looking for a job, and, further, to speculate that if Irv can make it into Oprah’s Book Club, he and Bright would become rich and famous paramours of Halle Berry. Bright doesn’t actually say “paramour,” by the way. Irv gives Bright a wry smile before disabusing him of such glamorous notions: he’s job-hunting for Bright. Bright is quick to assure Irv that there are no jobs out there for him: “I’ve got zero qualifications. Plus, I’ve been fired twice in the last eight months. Once by my mom!” Hee. (What is wrong with me that this keeps cracking me up?) Irv blames Bright’s “damn libido” and his failure to control it. Irv speaks truth. Bright insists that the “ladies love Bright Abbott” before, suddenly taking a more sober tone, declaring that he thinks he might want to be a rapper. Irv suppresses a laugh, as Bright says that he has “mad skills,” and proceeds to demonstrate: [My closed-captioning has thoughtfully supplied little musical notes to the following lines to indicate singing! My closed-captioning is adorable sometimes.] “B. Abbott, I’m funny / Like a rabbit or bunny / And I don’t have a job / Which means I ain’t got no money.” Bright concludes his performance with a goofy smile, Irv laughs heartily, and, in spite of that soul-scarring Bacchanal performance, I must admit that Bright’s rapping is considerably more charming when it’s not the progeny of beer and stupid drinking games. Irv, standing and handing Bright the newspaper, informs “Busta Rhymes” that he needs a plan. “As much as I love having you around here, this is no way for a 19-year-old boy to behave. You need some drive, something to focus on.” Bright rebuts that he has “plenty” on which to focus; Irv challenges this, so Bright offers as an example “like...what a big loser I am. That takes up, like, a good twelve hours of my day right there.” Irv’s only response to this pathetic statement is to announce his imminent departure for the gym in order to shower; he further remarks that he expects to see at least three ads circled by the time he returns, and promises to make the calls with Bright. Bright stares intently at the page, but remains aware enough of his surroundings to remind Irv – just as the latter is about to exit – that he’s still wearing his bathrobe. Irv thanks him and grabs a coat instead, while Bright settles down with the classifieds.

Some time later, Irv strolls down the hallway to his office, passing, as he does, one “Dr. Rickets,” who informs him that it’s time for a checkup. Irv mutters that it’s “no way for a grown man to live – out of a suitcase, next to a dentist.” Ah, always was one of my favorite sayings. Pedro Carolino, I believe. Irv enters his office, examining the mail he’s been holding throughout the scene and remarking to Bright that he has to tell Edna to take him back, as he’s “getting too old for this.” Receiving no response, Irv looks up to realize that Bright has vacated the premises. Irv also espies the classified section resting on his desk, and, curious, heads over to examine it. Finding a particular ad circled, he exclaims “Oh, no. Hell no!” and dashes out. Oh, it can’t be so bad, Irv...

Bright, meanwhile, perusing a brochure, asks someone what the difference is between an “officer-affiliation bonus” and an “officer-accession bonus.” Hmm. Looks like someone in the previous scene didn't overreact after all. Bright further asks the fatigues-clad officer to whom he’s speaking if he could define “affiliation” and “accession” while he’s at it. As Officer Whatever begins to explain “affiliation” in military terms, Irv, whom another officer is attempting to hold back, suddenly bursts in the room and angrily exclaims that Bright is his grandson. Bright: “I look more like my grandma.” Irv sternly tells Bright that they need to talk, though Bright asks if it can wait, as he’s currently busy “learning how to be all I can be.” Noting Irv’s stony gaze, Bright asks Officer Whatever for “two seconds,” and leaves with Irv, who hisses, as they exit the building, outside of which two more officers are posted: “Are you trying to ruin your life, jackass?” Then: “Hello, officers!” Bright, for good measure, offers a salute and thanks them for protecting the country. Irv asks what Bright is doing; Bright argues that he’s trying to find his purpose. Irv questions whether he really thinks his “purpose is to serve our country? Boy, you couldn’t even serve an omelet.” Bright sarcastically thanks Irv for his support, and begins to turn back towards the recruiting office. Irv, however, stops him and promises to let him sign whatever’s necessary if he can offer three good reasons for this decision. Bright’s reasons are good, if by “good” we mean “abjectly pathetic”: “One, I won’t be around women, so I won’t be able to screw up like I always do–” Irv cuts him off to remind him that there are actually women in the military. Bright finds this news shocking. Irv: “Have you ever met your grandmother?!” Bright’s all, “oh, yeah, right.... Okay, so, technically she’s a woman.” Hee! Undaunted, he moves ahead to Reason #2: free college! Irv notes that Harold will happily pay for college, too, and insists that Bright has lots of choices before him. Bright argues that he doesn’t want choices, as he sucks at making them; “Why not let Sergeant Suckface do it for me?” He sits down at a table conveniently located on the sidewalk. Irv pulls up a chair across from him and tells him that he’s right inasmuch as it’s difficult to determine what to do with one’s life. He continues that, at Bright’s age, he didn’t have all the options that Bright does, and suspects that might have been a “blessing: I didn’t have the time to think. I just had to do.” Bright interjects that that’s all he wants: something to do. Irv asks if joining the Army is what Bright most wants to do. Bright admits that it is not, and then gets pathetic again: “But I figure if I’m gonna fail again, I want to do it as far away as possible from you guys, ‘cause I don’t want you to know about it.” And combat situations are certainly the most optimal places for screw-ups, yes? Irv and Bright both look sad for a moment before Irv goes all public service announcement on us and informs the latter that failure is a part of life, from which one learns, and further notes that without learning, one can’t change. He personalizes these truisms a bit, however, by observing that Bright has changed more than anyone else he’s ever met. Bright is surprised by this. Irv says that upon first meeting Bright, he thought him a “punk,” reminiscent of the bullies who tried to steal Irv’s lunch money [as a kid, not a schoolbus driver, though one would be forgiven for asking]. Irv continues, though, that in the three years leading up to this particular flashback, and thus the first two-and-a-half seasons of the show, Bright has “transformed,” showing loyalty and support to his “best friend” [whether he means Colin or Ephram is anyone’s guess], being a good brother to Bangs of Sadness-era Amy, and improving his grades and student work ethic. “You keep up at this pace, there’s no telling where you’ll end up!” Bright rather dubiously asks if Irv really thinks so. Irv does; he insists that Bright will do great things with his life, and, in a moment of after-the-event anviliciousness, adds that he’ll “find a great woman to share it with.” Bright sincerely hopes so, and thanks Irv, tossing the recruitment brochure aside. After a moment, Irv leans over and, taking Bright by the shoulder, repeats “Sergeant Suckface? You wouldn’t last five minutes!” Bright concurs, and the two laugh, and it’s funny, until we remember that Irv is DEAD.

Bringing us back to the present, Mourning!Bright explains that it was about two weeks after this conversation that he enrolled at ECC, and, bringing us back to the point of why he told Hannah this story in the first place, adds that “right after that, I finally realized how awesome you were, and then...” Hannah is feeling marginally less nostalgic: “And then.” Bright apologizes for “totally leaning” on her when they’re not even supposed to be talking, though Hannah, being Hannah, assures him that it’s okay. Bright disagrees, and plunges even more deeply into the abyss of self-pity: “I understand why you don’t want to be friends with me. I don’t deserve it. I probably never deserved you in the first place.” Hannah, who appears to be as tired of this refrain as I am and who has looked increasingly weary with each sentence, finally takes Bright’s hand: “Yes, you did.” Bright, somewhat surprised, glances at her, while she smiles in return, probably for the first time since the teaser of “Truth.” After this momentary thaw, they sit in glum-seeming silence for a few moments, before Bright muses that he’s going to miss Irv. Hannah, not thinking about Irv at all, really, replies that she knows he is. “I know.”

Harper kitchen. Edna is on the phone with Cassie, providing us with an excuse for the character’s absence by assuring her that if the baby has an ear infection, she shouldn’t fly. Amy enters; Edna raises one hand in a "hold on" gesture and Amy complies, while Edna promises Cassie that they can talk more the next day, murmurs an understanding “Me too,” and finally hangs up. Amy suggests that Edna sit down. Edna, being Edna, sighs and says that she’s fine, but does sit and informs Amy that she was speaking to Irv’s daughter. Amy was unaware that Edna even knew her, but Edna fills her in on those particular goings-on from “Truth,” tearing up a bit while doing so. Amy assures her that it’s all right to cry, but Edna reiterates her general fine-ness. Amy doesn’t press the issue, opting instead to announce her intentions to make tea, and ask if Edna would like some, which Edna, as it happens, would. Edna offers to show her where the various tea-making accoutrements are, but Amy reminds her that she lived in the Harper home “for almost a year” [or, roughly 3 months, either way] and knows where everything is kept. Edna sadly muses that it “feels like a long time ago, doesn’t it?” Amy agrees that it does, before turning her attentions to the mug cabinet, or, more precisely, to a particular yellow mug. After thoughtfully gazing at said mug for a few moments, she retrieves it and suddenly flashes back to S2, and it’s rather peculiar that hers is the only flashback to rely on object memory rather than speech, but it’s also something of a nice change from this recapper’s perspective, so I’ll be shutting up about it now.

So, here we are back in S2. Amy, who is strangely bereft of bangs, has just dropped this very same mug in the sink, causing it to break into several large pieces. While Amy stoops to discard the shards, Irv appears and asks what she’s doing. Amy duhs that the mug broke; Irv duhs right back that he can see that, but that it’s a “clean break” and can be salvaged. Amy pragmatically notes that they only cost around five bucks and that she can easily replace it, but Irv insists that cost is not the point. Amy snarkily wonders if they can’t just “skip the lesson” for the night as she’s tired. Irv rebuts that Amy is “always tired lately” and he’s sick of it. Amy, feeling her bratty mid-S2 oats, exclaims in turn that she might be tired because she “can’t do anything in this house without getting some kind of lecture!” and, at the sound of the doorbell, storms off, declaring her intention to answer the door. Which she does, to find Ephram there, wearing a not-at-all conspicuous knit cap that not-at-all conspicuously conceals his not-at-all-S2-kosher haircut. They exchange casual heys, before Amy, rather confused, asks if they had plans. Ephram assures her that they did not, but, in a deeply specific reference to “Forget Me Not,” explains that he was thinking about what she said “in the Mexican restaurant the other day, about how I’ve dropped the ball on our friendship lately, and you’re right, I have, so I figured I would pick up the ball and bring it over. Unannounced.” As Amy stares at him blankly, he muses that he “probably should have brought an actual ball to help with the metaphor.” Amy mulls all this over for about three seconds before loudly informing Irv that she’s going for a walk with Ephram. Irv: “Make it a long one!” Hee. While Ephram frowns bemusedly, Amy grabs her coat, and the two head out the door. The walk having officially commenced, Ephram observes that “Sarcastic Irv is new,” and begins to ask if they’re fighting. Amy, however, cuts him off before he can fully conclude that question, saying that they’re just getting on each other’s nerves. In almost the same breath, she asks the whereabouts of Madison. Ephram explains that she’s at band practice, as a manager will be present at their next show. Amy, sounding surprisingly sincere, remarks that she’d like to hear Madison play sometime, and might go to one of the band’s shows. Ephram enthusiastically replies that she should, she and Eyebrows both. Amy, in a weirdly flirtatious tone, says that she doesn’t need to go with Eyebrows, prompting Ephram to concernedly ask if they had “another fight.” Amy denies this, claiming instead that they’re “just dating,” and that she doesn’t “plan everything around him,” unlike, say, Ephram and Madison. Ephram, flustered, is quick to assert that he doesn’t plan everything around Madison, but Amy assures him that she thinks it’s “nice” and, also, that she thinks Ephram is falling in love with Madison. She’s smiling entirely too broadly throughout this entire exchange, by the way, which is likely what prompts Ephram to wonder if they’re “being European right now?” [and here’s where I’d link you to the source of this seeming non sequitur, except that all I can manage is a link to the entire episode transcript. In a nutshell, Ephram thinks discussing their significant others with each other makes them European. I don’t know.] Amy apologizes for this, before proceeding to make things really nice and weird by breezily querying if he and Madison have “done the deed.” Ephram: *looks back and forth rapidly a few times, mouth agape* Amy laughs and says that she was joking. “You should see the look on your face, that was fantastic!” And it’s now one of those rare occasions when Amy and I are in total agreement. Amy goes on to muse that it makes her wonder. Ephram, naturally, wonders what it is that she wonders; what she means is “who my first time will be with.” Ephram, forgetting the future conversation he’ll have with Amy on this very same topic in the chronologically-later, but, of course, two seasons-earlier “Do or Die,” replies that “that answers that question.” Amy offers a “Tommy? No,” though she thinks that it might make it “easier” if it were him. Ephram assumes she’s referring to Tommy’s level of experience, but this isn’t Amy’s point at all; she just thinks “it’d just take some of the pressure off if it were him.” Ephram has no idea what she means. Amy explains that, as she knows Tommy isn’t “the one,” losing her virginity to him would simply be a matter of “getting it out of the way.” Ephram deems this “Every girl’s dream!” Heh. Amy: “Are you a girl?” Ephram: “Compared to you, possibly.” Not just compared to Amy, Ephram. But I love you all the same. Girly Ephram continues that it doesn’t have to be “all candles and Coldplay or whatever” but that he does want his first time to be special. Amy takes this to mean that he and Madison haven’t yet consummated things, which assumption Ephram confirms with several nervous “no”s. Amy tells him not to worry, as she’s sure that whatever he does, it will be “special.” Well...memorable, at least. But, anyway, Amy is sure that it will be special, because “that’s just who you are, Ephram.” Though Ephram clearly appreciates this, Amy quickly lightens the mood by suddenly declaring a need for chocolate, and whisks him off somewhere.

To an ice cream place, apparently, as Amy is now consuming said dessert item while the two sit on a bench somewhere. Ephram, prefacing his statement with a “Don’t take this the wrong way...,” observes that Amy doesn’t seem to be particularly enamored of Eyebrows, which prompts him to wonder why she’s with him at all. Amy shrugs that she likes him, that he’s “different from anyone I’ve ever met” and that they have fun together, not that she ever sees herself marrying him or anything. Ephram amps up the girliness to about 11 and says that he’s “not your soul mate.” Amy replies that she no longer believes in soul mates, but asks if Ephram does. Ephram thinks he might, leading Amy to ask if he thinks Madison might be his. Ephram has a firm opinion on the matter: “I’m not willing to say that she definitely is, but at the same time, I’m not willing to say that she’s definitely not.” Amy takes this as proof of her conviction that one can’t just know when one’s with the right person. Ephram, however, asks if she didn’t know that it was right with Colin. Amy is silent, prompting Ephram to apologize, but Amy confirms that she did think that with regard to Colin, though she offers the caveat that she was fourteen when they started dating; “I thought about it, but more in the way that I thought about marrying Big Bird when I was six; it was more of a concept than an actual feeling of...” “Knowing?” Ephram supplies. Amy guesses so.

...And they’re still talking! Nothing against the scene as an actual scene, because it’s well-done and all, albeit a little screwy in certain places with the continuity, but it’s not making for a terribly dynamic recapping process here. I’m frighteningly close to suddenly making up scenarios in which Ephram whips off a mask and suddenly reveals his true nature as, like, a vampire-dinosaur or something. What? It's a thing. Really. Anyhoo, they’ve returned to the Harper home; Amy thanks Ephram for hanging out with her and giving her a chance to get out of the house. Ephram acknowledges her gratitude, then tells her that she’s wrong. Amy quite reasonably asks to what he’s referring. Ephram thinks that “you can know. I think you can know when someone is right, I think you can have a soul mate, I think maybe you can have more than one, but I think there’s definitely a limited number of people that you can really be with.” Dude, he is a girl. Please say something sarcastic now, Ephram. Or at least stop using the phrase “soul mate.” Amy shakes her head and claims not to know what he’s talking about. Ephram continues, very intensely, that Amy has a soul mate, “and once you get all this other crap out of your head and just trust that, you’ll know who it is. He’ll probably be standing right out in front of you.” Subtle, Ephram. He concludes that “the guy who’s lucky enough to get to be with you...he won’t walk away too easily,” and the self-deprecating manner in which he delivers this last line suddenly makes me feel a little bit like Berlanti just totally ripped off the final part of Bright’s porch speech to Hannah from “Since You’ve Been Gone.” In any event, Amy unnecessarily asks why Ephram would say that, meaning the part about the guy not walking away, and Ephram unnecessarily shrugs that it’s “because he gets to be with you” and walks away, leaving Amy, looking all thoughtful and bangless, to spend several minutes watching him walk away and apparently I’m cranky tonight. I'm sorry, or whatever. [/Kyle]

The whistle of the tea kettle returns Amy to the present, such as it is, and startles her out of her reverie to such an extent that she drops the mug in the sink, shattering it all over again. Ephram, who’s suddenly appeared in the kitchen, cautions her not to cut herself picking it up. Amy assures him it’s okay. The Ghost of Irv suddenly possesses Ephram, and, speaking through this sun-averse young vessel, notes that it’s a “clean break” and can be easily repaired. Amy accurately replies that she’s “done this before,” and suddenly covers her face, a bit overcome. Ephram asks how she is; she says that she’s “okay,” and explains that she was making tea for Edna. Ephram urges her to take care of that while he fixes the mug. Amy sighs and, smiling relievedly, thanks him. She begins to walk away, but pauses to gaze at him for a few seconds before informing him, shyly, that she’s glad he’s there. Ephram says nothing in reply, but smiles before resuming his mug-mending activities.

Andy, seeming pensive, because he’s in Everwood and it’s kind of the norm, is sitting in the Harper living room. Nina spots him and approaches; the two say “hey,” and Nina asks if Andy minds if she sits with him on the couch, which he, naturally, does not. Once seated, Nina sighs heavily and, after a moment, turns to Andy and says his name. Which is, of course, Jake’s cue to arrive on the scene. He kisses Nina in greeting and remarks that “that took forever,” referring to the business with the house. Andy asks how it went; exceedingly well, as it happens: they’ve closed on escrow and he’s booked the flight to LA. “We leave next week!” Nina does not find this news nearly as heartening as her boyfriend does, and nervously repeats “Next week?” Andy helpfully adds that “That’s soon, isn’t it?” Jake apologetically explains that a couple of houses in the Palisades will be up for sale in the following week, and his realtor thinks they’ll go fast. He adds that Nina needn’t worry; if they’re not finished with things in Everwood, “we can always come back and tie up any loose ends!” Andy pensively nods at this, silently hoping that Nina’s to-do list includes “Declare forbidden love for Andy,” somewhere between “Pack up Sam’s things” and “Send out change-of-address cards.” Jake, meanwhile, remembers that he’s at a wake, and says that he’s going to go pay Edna his respects, kissing Nina on the forehead before leaving. Nina turns to Andy again and, again, says his name, but Andy hastily interjects that he should get Ephram and return home. “Make sure my father hasn’t done any permanent damage to Delia.” Though Andy smiles, Nina, looking whiter than Ephram dressed as Casper, glumly gives him an “of course,” and, as he walks away, thanks him for the ride. Now alone, she sighs some more.

Some time clearly having passed since the last scene, Bright and Ephram morosely enter their apartment. Bright asks if Ephram wants anything, which Ephram does not; Bright doesn’t either, but scopes out the contents of the refrigerator anyway. Ephram, meanwhile, checks the answering machine and discovers a message from Stephanie, who acknowledges the awfulness of the day, and asks if there’s anything she can do to help, before inviting him to call her back. Bright, his fridge expedition concluded, observes that Stephanie is “pretty cool.” Ephram shrugs that she “seems it.” Bright asks if Ephram intends to call her back, which Ephram does, “but not tonight.” Ephram settles down on the couch and, retrieving three DVDs from the coffee table, asks if Bright wants to watch a movie; officially remembering that he is actually a guy, he adds that he has “three different ones where stuff gets blown up.” Bright likes the sound of this, until he recalls that they don’t have a DVD player. Ephram, however, assures him that they can watch on his computer. He flips open the laptop and the two wait for the computer to come on, for what seems like several silent minutes of screentime. Oh, come on, guys. You’re Ephram and Bright! You’re too awesome for this! The apartment is ashamed to have been the setting for such a lame scene. Fie!

So while all this crazy excitement is going down, Ephram and Bright’s distaff counterparts are busy in the Abbott bathroom, brushing their teeth and applying various facial substances. And, hee, the whole juxtaposition of ‘guys watching action movies and not talking’/‘girls doing girly toiletry things and talking endlessly’ just hit me now. Okay, that renders the last scene a little more interesting. Sort of. In a marginal kind of way. Amy, toothbrush in mouth, asks if Hannah doesn’t mind sleeping over for the night. Hannah, temporarily playing the role of Exposition Fairy, replies that she’ll be staying over for a few weeks after Nina leaves, anyway; “You’re sure you’re not gonna get sick of me?” I could make a smart, incredibly biased remark here about how Hannah’s not the one who should be worrying about that, but it’s the holidays and the recaps are nearing their end, so I’ll be charitable. Amy assures Hannah that’s “impossible,” before spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste. After this attractive display, she continues that if it’s too weird for Hannah to sleep in Bright’s vacated room, they can always switch. Hannah says that she doesn’t mind, although honestly, I would be sort of afraid of what I might find in there if I were her. Amy, her mouth again full of toothbrush, seizes on this opportunity to remark that she saw Hannah and Bright talking earlier. Hannah, undaunted, rebuts that she saw Amy and Ephram talking, too. Neither responds to the other’s observation, which is rather unfortunate for me, as it leaves us with only the sound of Amy spitting some more. This having been accomplished, Amy sighs “Hard day.” Hannah replies that it will get easier, but this is part of Amy’s concern: “Knowing that, in a little while, things are gonna start to feel normal again. It shouldn’t, but it will.” She rubs her forehead a bit in distress, but Hannah, who apparently received the whole gender stereotype memo way before I did, knows just the way to perk up her friend: “Want to go raid the fridge?” Amy declares that she “could use some chocolate,” and off they go, to consume chocolate and probably talk about dreamy celebrities and paint their nails and sing into their hairbrushes. And use the phrase "soul mate" a lot, Ephram.

Eugene is seated on the Brown living room couch, still lost in A Mountain Town. Andy enters the house and, seeing his father, remarks that he was sure he’d wake him. Eugene, however, exclaims that he’s “ten pages from finishing – this thing’s Da Vinci Code good!” Hee, though I’m not sure what that really says about Irv’s abilities. Andy smiles at this and, seating himself in the chair, asks if Eugene and Delia had fun. Eugene: “Eh...she’s not half the drinker I thought she would be.” Ha! It’s nice to see that the Brown men’s sense of humor is hereditary, too. Andy laughs, though Eugene brings this to a halt by awkwardly remarking that he needs to... “Leave tomorrow,” Andy finishes, before asking if Eugene is sure he doesn’t want to stay longer. Eugene replies that he has a “lady friend” waiting for him at home, “and I don’t want her to get any ideas.” Andy, a wee bit flustered, remarks that it’s “weird to think of” him with anyone besides Andy’s mother: “Now I know how Ephram feels.” So you’re also planning to talk Eugene’s girlfriend into leaving the man with whom she’s reluctantly moving to California? His thoughts apparently going in the same direction as mine, Eugene asks about Andy’s relationship with “the neighbor broad.” Andy informs him of the house-selling and her plans to leave town in a matter of days, before admitting that he doesn’t know what to do, especially as he’s already told her about his feelings. “I know it would be wrong to try and stop her, but if I don’t, I may lose her forever, and I’m not sure I can take losing another woman, not after Julia. I can’t possibly think of how I–” Eugene interjects that Andy will figure something out, which Andy finds less than helpful; “God forbid we should have a conversation where you would impart some advice.” Ah, now it feels like a Brown-on-Brown scene. Eugene asks if Andy is going to “start with that crap,” declaring that Andy doesn’t need Eugene’s advice “now.” Andy wonders why not now. Eugene thinks that he might have “had something on” Andy back when he was “Mr. Big-Shot Doctor,” but that now, “what you’ve done here, the man you’ve become, is damn impressive, son. Well, I should’ve stopped talking to you in high school – who knows how good you would have turned out?” Andy smiles and takes a moment before remarking that there’s something the family has started saying since Julia’s death – “It’s kind of a Brown policy that I instituted.” Eugene asks what it is. Andy: “I love you, Dad.” Eugene is first surprised, then deeply moved by Andy’s statement, finally telling him that he’s “a good son.” He reaches out for Andy’s hand, and so the two sit while Eva Cassidy’s rendition of “Fields of Gold” begins...

...Leading us back to the Harper home, where Edna is leading Harold out. Harold begins to say that he could stay, but Edna cuts him off and assures him that she’s “got it from here,” before giving him a hug and sending him on his way. Edna walks slowly through the hallway back to the kitchen, where she is unexpectedly greeted by the apparition of Irv, who observes that Edna misses him. Edna, made rather happy by the sight of him, declares that he doesn’t “know the half of it.” Irv assures her that she’ll be fine; Edna thinks she might be fine, but “great, never.” Irv notes that she got over the loss of her first husband fairly quickly, but Edna points out that she had been with him for forty years; “we didn’t get enough time, you and I. We deserved more time.” Irv declares that they “had a lifetime.” Edna suddenly looks anguished, and the next shot reveals that Irv has vanished. Edna, beginning to sob, pleads with him not to go: “Please don’t leave me!” But the camera pulls out, and we’re left with a window-framed scene of a sobbing, solitary Edna.

Every time I've thought about writing this particular recap, a few lines of verse have run through my head:

(and feeling:that if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

There's not a cat sitting on my keyboard, by the way; it's just ee cummings. In any event, that sums up how I feel about this episode and the thought I've had that this might be my final recap, given that a pretty definitive one for "Foreverwood" already exists and has for two years. If this little journey has to end, if the show itself had to end, well: is there a much more beautiful way that it could have?