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!

Enjoy the Ride

Apartment. Bright is hanging out on the couch, bouncing a ball off the brick wall and listening to Sarah McLachlan’s “Good Enough.” Bright, soulfully: “Sing it, girl.” Heeeee. Bright has been effectively transformed into myself as a 16-year-old. He is suddenly rudely disturbed by the phone ringing on a nearby table; he weakly leans over to reach it with his unbroken hand, but gives up and lets it go to answering. Turns out to be a very chipper-sounding Reid, announcing that he's been discharged from the hospital and will be home in an hour and can’t wait to see everyone! Bright: “Oh, crap.” Bright, suddenly panicked, makes the effort to reach the phone, and dials a number, which turns out to be Amy’s, as we now cut to she and Hannah getting their nails done. Amy picks up and informs Bright that she can’t talk to him now; Bright doesn’t care, and asks how soon she can get to the apartment. Amy asks what’s wrong, prompting Hannah to ask, with at least some degree of concern, the same question of Amy. Bright frantically explains that Reid is coming home while Ephram is still in New York, “which means I’m the entire Welcome Wagon for a guy who just tried to off himself!” I sort of hate myself for being mildly amused by that line. Blame it on Chris Pratt’s delivery. Amy reminds Bright that he is Reid’s roommate, but Bright again pleads with her to come over. She finally tells him she’ll be there as fast as she can, which catches Hannah a bit off-guard. Bright thanks Amy. Amy: “Are you listening to Sarah McLachlan?” Bright respectfully requests that she “shut it” and hangs up. Hannah, too, is just a little amused by this last bit, but asks what the matter is. Amy informs her of Bright’s sheer terror; Hannah deems this explanation “fair enough.” Amy continues, very subtly, that it might be nice if ALL of Reid’s friends were there to welcome him home with “love and support.” Hannah’s all, “I don’t mind at all if you want to go over there, Amy.” Amy looks at her expectantly, leading Hannah to exclaim “No! Absolutely not!” several times over. Amy protests that Hannah doesn’t know what she was going to say, but Hannah does, actually, and refuses to go to “that house” with Amy. Amy insists that it’s about Reid, not Bright, and “isn’t being there for him the Christian thing to do?” Hannah rebuts that suicide is a sin, “so don’t even try to bring Jesus into this!” Well, now, to be fair, Hannah, I seem to recall that we also have those little sayings about “casting the first stone” and not judging others, so if you’re really going to argue on those grounds... In any event, Amy suggests, then, just being there out of friendship. Hannah admits to feeling bad for Reid, but also says that it’s “not the right time” to see Bright. Amy, however, thinks it’s “the perfect time,” as the hugeness of Reid’s situation “diffuses” the Bright/Hannah situation. Hannah concedes this point, and Amy continues, on a shallower note, that Hannah’s having a good hair day and now has “new and shiny” hands and feet. Hannah, eyebrow raised, asks if this wasn’t supposed to be about Reid. Amy agrees that it is, but it doesn’t mean Hannah can’t look good. After a few seconds, Hannah finally gives in, but refuses to stay for long. Amy suggests twenty minutes, just enough time to make sure Reid's okay and show him that they’re there for him. Hannah then proceeds to wreck both her good hair day and her shiny hands as she absent-mindedly starts to pull her hair back, and, too late, recalls the manicure. Amy, somewhat amused, requests a touch-up. Credits!

Everwood sidewalk. Andy walks down the street while Delia and friend Brittany bike down the sidewalk proper. Delia calls for his attention more times than seems necessary before he finally reaches them. He asks if someone is hurt; Delia and Brittany declare that it’s much worse than that, as Delia just learned that Thalia’s birthday party is the same day as her bat mitzvah. She frantically continues that they’ll “obviously” have to change the date, perhaps to some weekend in July. Andy chuckles a bit and reminds Delia that they can’t change the date; “it’s like a wedding, except instead of a groom, you have a cantor.” Delia asks if Andy can’t just call everyone and tell them he made a mistake. Brittany suggests email as a more efficient alternative. Andy firmly replies that he can’t do any of those things, and, furthermore, doesn’t know what the big deal is, asking why Thalia can’t just move the date of her party. Delia duhs that Thalia’s “the most popular person in our whole grade!!!” Brittany: “We’re talking both classrooms.” Andy reminds Delia that her bat mitzvah is not just a party, but a rite of passage that entailed “months and months of planning.” Brittany breezily interjects that many people plan events and then change the dates: “My stepmother changed a whole cruise vacation because she figured out it was going to be her time of the month.” Andy, mildly sickened, thanks Brittany for this. Brittany smiles triumphantly. Andy gets back on-topic, telling Delia that there’s nothing he can do, but that he’s sure people will still come. Delia pouts, while Andy concludes that he has to return to work, but asks if she’ll be okay. Delia nods, poutily. Once Andy’s gone, Delia asks, hesitantly, if Brittany will still attend her bat mitzvah. Brittany isn’t sure, adding that she herself is not even Jewish. Delia thinks Brittany’s lucky, as her people were “obviously chosen to be miserable!” Brittany agrees, and they resume their ride. Hope you’re enjoying it! Ha ha!

Apartment of Denial but Not Really Because Everything's Great So There's Nothing to Deny! Really! Bright is intensely relieved when Amy walks through the door, and unnecessarily remarks that he has “no idea what to say” when Reid returns. At Hannah’s entrance, Bright flashes a faint but goopy smile, and happily says hi. Hannah, making every effort to avoid the sight of him, responds with an icy hello. Amy smiles tensely at Bright, while Hannah looks as though she's about to undergo a Novocaineless root canal. (Also, in a nice show of continuity, her hair’s now a bit of a mess.) Amy cuts to the chase and asks when Reid will be back. Bright says it should be any minute, and proposes his game plan: “You two, you’re gonna talk to him, I’m gonna hang back, kind of supervise the whole situation...” Amy calls him a “moron,” then, sniffing, asks what smells like deodorant. Bright informs her that it is, in fact, Right Guard, as the apartment “stunk” and he was out of air freshener. See? This is what comes of cheating on Hannah. Now who’s going to unearth old slices of pizza from under the couch cushions? Reid, clutching a potted plant, suddenly bursts into the apartment. Amy offers him a peppy, if slightly nervous, “welcome home!” and hugs him. Hannah’s more tentative, but Reid assures her he won’t “break,” and they hug, too. Bright gives him a firm handshake and says it’s good to have him back. Reid’s all “Missed you too, man!!” which is only the first of many overly perky line deliveries. As he sets his plant down, Amy asks how he is. Reid replies that he’s “really great!,” though his back is a little sore from the poor quality of the hospital bed. He concludes, however, that he’s happy to be home. Amy smiles encouragingly. Reid settles down at the counter and enthusiastically asks what he missed. “Anything exciting?” Amy and Bright exchange a look before Amy replies that he didn’t really miss anything. Hannah is slightly weirded-out. Reid asks if Ephram is at school, so Bright informs him of the New York trip. Reid: “Cool. Living the [insert weird hand-waving gesture] Juilliard dream! Right on.” Reid suddenly picks up a basketball and asks if Bright would be up for a game. Hannah and Amy exchange a pair of fairly awesome perplexed glances, as Reid continues that he’s a little “stir-crazy.” Bright accepts Reid’s invitation. Reid leaves to take a shower, and the three watch him exit. Once he’s out of the room, Amy wonders if she missed something. Bright agrees that it was “a little weird,” but Amy observes that he acted more like he just returned from a spa visit than from a stay in the hospital. Bright, not wanting to think too deeply about it, suggests that Reid may just be “back to normal,” though Amy insists that it’s not possible. Hannah, in any event, decides that Reid’s all right for now, and informs Amy that she’s leaving, before tearing out the door. Bright sighs and sadly observes that Hannah couldn’t even look at him. Amy suggests that it’ll take some time, but Bright wonders how much time. Amy doesn’t know, but thinks probably “longer than it’s taken Reid.” Amy sighs, while Bright is glum.

Harold, performing a sonogram on his very pregnant patient Kathy, is expositing that everything looks great, she’ll have a C-section in two days and will take home a girl. Meanwhile, Justin Kirk, AKA ‘James,’ is leaning against the wall and looking quite the opposite of "great." Kathy intones that she knows exactly who Harold is. James continues to be miserable, while Harold notes that, once Kathy gives birth, they’ll be able to put her back on her medication, and “everything will get back to normal.” James, sounding stressed, remarks that he’s forgotten what “normal” is like, and has spent every day of the past nine months feeling as though he’s been hit by a truck. He underscores this last remark with a big sniffle. Harold, concerned, observes that he does look “rather run-down,” and invites him into the office to talk and possibly prescribe something for his seeming cold, leaving Louise to tend to Kathy. James takes a seat and wonders if Kathy will even remember the pregnancy; Harold admits that she probably won’t remember it as well as he will. James deems her “lucky.” Harold, finally deciding to provide the viewers with a full explanation, remarks that schizophrenia is “brutal” and that Kathy is “brave” to go through with the pregnancy. James, however, thinks that he might just be “stupid” for letting her, and continues that he never wanted a baby in the first place and was “more than happy” with just the two of them. He concludes, however, that Kathy is “stubborn.” Harold, examining James’s throat, chuckles that “she’s been that way since she was fifteen,” by which age she was already determined to be a mom in spite of the schizophrenia. As Harold moves on to the ears, James remarks that he’d never seen Kathy ill prior to the pregnancy, as she had always been on her meds; “schizophrenia is just this concept. It’s like a story in a scrapbook from her childhood,” and he never realized how bad it could really be. Harold assures him that though it’s put a strain on his marriage, it won’t matter once he’s holding his new daughter. James, though, tersely replies that he “can’t even think about that,” and confesses that, though he knows it sounds “horrible,” he resents the baby “for putting me through this, for making me look at my wife differently.” Harold passes no judgment, but is instead preoccupied by a series of nasty bruises on James’s left arm. He asks if Kathy’s been violent, but James actually doesn’t know how he got them. He rolls up his right sleeve to show off a few more, and ruefully laughs that they’re probably the result of fighting Kathy to get into the bath. Harold recalls James’s earlier admission of being tired, and asks if he has any other symptoms, such as headaches or nausea. James mentions bleeding gums, but had attributed the problem to stress. Harold rather doubtfully replies that he’s “sure that it is,” but suggests that he’d like to run some bloodwork. James is fine with this, then asks if Harold doesn’t think he’s a “horrible person” for his comments about the baby. Harold does not, and says that he is, instead, “a man who’s deeply in love with his wife – and I think she’s lucky to have you.” James smiles a bit, though Harold is clearly worried about James’s health.

Jake’s office. Edna informs him that ‘Sandra Brown’ [which, incidentally, confused me for a moment as it sounds a heck of a lot like ‘Andrew Brown’ and made me wonder if he had suddenly decided to go for collagen injections or something] is next, and adds that he's just received his third fax of the week from UCLA. Jake crumples up said fax, as Edna observes that it’s also the third he’s thrown away: “What’s with all the tree-killing? You’re going to run us out of fax paper.” Jake replies, slightly irritably, that it’s his old partners; “as usual, they’re trying to take a good idea and make it profitable.” For shame! Edna: “Evil bastards.” She laughs at her own remark, saving me a "hee." Jake laughs at well, and concedes that it’s not a “terrible thing,” but goes on to explain that they want him to pursue a master's in counseling, thus making him more marketable and also enabling him to do more one-on-one work. Edna is impressed, observing that it sounds like a great opportunity to help people, “much as I’d miss helping you inject poison into snotty women’s foreheads...” Jake admits to being tired of the cosmetics work himself, but isn’t sure that it’s the right time to make such a huge change, especially having just gotten his relationship with Nina back on track. Edna chirpily suggests that he just take Nina with him! Jake, though, won’t ask Nina to leave Everwood, considering how much she’s already sacrificed for him; more importantly, Everwood is Nina’s home, where her business and friends are located. Edna wonders why Jake thinks Nina would choose all those things over him. Jake stares at Edna a moment, plainly doubting her, and finally shakes his head and declares that he could never ask Nina to choose. He walks out, while Edna seems surprisingly distressed by the whole business.

Sam’s. Amy, on the job, pours coffee for a customer who also happens to be a classmate, as she asks if she can borrow his notes from some class or other. And because we’ll be seeing him again, I’ll just say it right now: his name is Nick, and he looks, for all the world, like the misbegotten love child of Bright and Gilmore Girls's Logan Huntzberger, apparently sent off to be raised by some distant Australian relative so as to avoid scandal. It’s all rather unnerving. Anyhoo, Nick agrees to give her the notes and, in the process, makes a quip that I can’t understand because I have apparently spontaneously lost the capacity to understand Australian accents. That interaction concluded, Amy turns around to find PeachyKeen!Reid, who grins broadly and asks what she’s doing Friday night. Amy, still processing his total okay-ness, can only reply with an “uhhhhhh...”, allowing Reid to continue that he thought they could go out for dinner and/or a movie. Amy accepts with a slightly dubious “okay,” while Reid adds that they can do it another time if Friday doesn’t work for her. Amy assures him that Friday’s great, though continues, eyebrows furrowed, that “she just...” Reid doesn’t give her a chance to finish, though, as he says he’ll call her, and zips out of the coffee shop. As Amy again attempts to process what just occurred, Hannah walks up to inform her that the restrooms are out of toilet paper; noticing Amy’s puzzlement, she asks what happened. Amy explains that she “thinks” Reid asked her on a date, “and I think I said yes.” Hannah is just a little horrified, and asks if Amy likes him again. Amy firmly denies this, but excuses her response on the basis of Reid being “in a fragile state.” Hannah thinks that’s exactly the point: “What if he has, like, a nervous breakdown, or he tries to kiss you and you turn away and he just totally loses it? I mean, you’re not trained for any of that!” Hannah certainly is a helpful one this ep. Amy accuses Hannah of “freaking [her] out,” but Hannah rebuts that it’s a “freaky situation,” and that Amy shouldn’t go alone. Amy is hugely relieved by what she incorrectly takes as Hannah's offer of support, and embraces her, thanking her effusively for being “such a good friend.” Hannah exclaims “no” several times, and insists that she can’t go, as she makes a “terrible third wheel.” Amy says that they can just find a fourth wheel, then, and make a “group friend thing” of it, punctuating her suggestion with a smile and encouraging shrug. Hannah accurately reminds Amy that Amy is her group, “unless you want me to go with Ephram, which would be...oogy.” Oh, Hannah, don’t toy with my Ephram/you friendshipper heart so. Amy assures her that it wouldn’t be Ephram, prompting Hannah to warn Amy against suggesting Bright. Amy, glancing at the nearby table, opts instead for Lite Bright: “Nick!” Hannah, confused, says that she doesn’t know anyone with that name, but Amy, now as cheerful as Reid, says she will, as she leads a reluctant Hannah over to his table. Amy introduces them. Nick smiles pleasantly. Hannah smiles awkwardly before giving Amy an only slightly-homicidal sidelong glance.

Nina and Jake kitchen. Andy has just told Nina, off-screen, of Delia’s scheduling conflict, which Nina sympathetically exclaims is “awful.” Andy mutters that he “knew Thalia was trouble the minute I heard that squeaky voice talking about carbs.” Nina thinks “she sounds like the devil.” Andy, looking suddenly inspired, muses that there’s a flu going around. “Maybe...” Nina suggests that there might be a “solution that doesn’t involve germ warfare.” Andy declares himself open to suggestions, so Jake, who’s thus far been in the background, putting away dishes or something, makes an eminently practical one: “Kids just want to be part of the coolest thing out there, right? So you just make sure that Delia’s party is so cool that no kid could turn it down.” Wow! That’s...totally useless advice! Thanks, Jake! Andy is not keen on teaching Delia to “buy her way out of a problem with a bigger name.” Jake looks wounded. In a shocking turn of events, however, Nina agrees with Andy, wondering what Delia would end up expecting for her Sweet 16. She makes the more reasonable suggestion that Andy just discuss the matter with Thalia’s mother, since, surely once she understood the bat mitzvah’s significance, she’d consider moving the party date. Andy understates that he gets “a little pushy” when he doesn’t get his way, and thus fears ruining the remainder of Delia’s junior high experience. Nina volunteers to go with him, claiming that she’s good at “keeping [her] cool” and that “moms love” her. Andy, amused: “Really?” Jake, skeptical: “Really?” Hee! Perhaps these are the mothers of the few children who haven’t yet been corrupted by Nina. Nina insists that they “absolutely” do, and continues that by teaming with Andy, they would have the “ganging up effect” in their favor. She turns to Jake for confirmation that this last method works. Jake, whose mind has suddenly wandered, is all “Huh? What? Uh, yeah, babe.” Andy, all smiles, thanks Nina and informs her that she’s performing a mitzvah – “that’s Hebrew for ‘good deed.’” Aw, look at Andy, gettin’ down with his incredibly basic knowledge of Hebrew, when just a handful of episodes ago he didn’t know the difference between “mazel tov” and “mandelbrot.” Growth. As Andy and Nina chuckle, Jake stares at them, just a little jealous.

Morning in the Abbott kitchen. As Rose shuffles through the slides (as seen in the last episode), Harold declares himself “off to save the world.” Rose exposits that it’s only her second day at the museum, and she’s already running late. Harold retrieves a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and offers it as “potassium?” but Rose declines, saying she’ll just get something at the museum coffee shop. She continues that she’ll be working late, but there are leftovers in the refrigerator. Harold doubts that he’ll be home at dinnertime, either, as the office has been busy. [Horribly depressing, too, but we haven’t quite gotten to that point yet.] He asks when Rose will be home; she doesn’t know, but tells him not to wait up, as she’ll be going to bed as soon as she gets home. Harold will, as well, and wishes her a good day. A quick kiss, and they’re off.

Andy and Nina are having their very reasonable chat with Thalia’s Mom. Andy is explaining the bat mitzvah’s significance, and notes that it just wouldn’t be the same for Delia if Thalia couldn’t be there. Thalia’s tall-haired, scarf-wearing mother agrees: “Thalia’s a very special girl.” Andy, teeth gritted, grins and nods. After a few beats, he asks if this means Thalia et al. will move the party. Thalia’s Mom, however, says that she “sympathize[s]” with Andy, and supposes that she could move Thalia’s party, “but then what kind of message would that send? That your daughter is more important than mine? That seems rather unfair.” Nina and Andy shift a little, and Andy continues that he’s not sure Thalia’s Mom gets how important the bat mitzvah is to Delia, as it’s a “once in a lifetime event” and has required months of studying and preparation. Thalia’s Mom has a suggestion: “Then perhaps you should consider moving the event if it means that much to Delilah.” Heh. As Andy looks increasingly disgusted, Nina finally pipes up, correcting the name and asking, still perfectly civil, how many times they have to explain that the bat mitzvah is a rite of passage rather than a party. Thalia’s Mom shifts her gaze to the side for a moment before finally coming to a decision: let the kids decide for themselves which event to attend! Nina sarcastically asks whether the kids are more likely to prefer Ashlee Simpson or Cantor Fortis. Given the available options, I’m going with Door #2 myself. Thalia’s Mom snits that they can’t blame her for that, and declares that “the problem here is that we just have different styles of parenting.” Nina’s had it, which we all saw coming after she boasted about being able to keep her cool, and calls Thalia’s Mom a “piece of work. I can see where your daughter gets her brat gene!” Hee. Andy pats Nina on the arm a few times and gives her a “steady, Nina,” to no avail. Thalia’s Mom stands and urges them to leave; Nina stands as well and asks if she’ll call Ashlee’s bodyguard to throw her out. “I’m so scared. Bring it on, Sweater Set!” Andy: “And now it’s time to go.” He hustles her out of the house. Sweater Set is miffed.

Apartment. Reid’s on the phone, saying that something “sounds great” and that he’ll pick everyone up around seven. After the call ends, he grins broadly and dons his sneakers. Bright, reclining on the couch, asks what has Reid “doing a happy dance,” though, honestly, at this point Reid probably does happy dances when the sun appears, and the law of gravity continues to hold true. Reid, practically weeping with joy, giddily replies that it was just Amy calling to confirm their “date.” Bright stares at him dubiously, while Reid continues that there’s no problem, since he already called Ephram, who’s “totally cool” with it. Bright returns to his reading [seriously! He’s reading something! I’m so proud!] and gives him an underwhelmed “all righty, then.” Reid continues that “it’s so cool: we’re all going bowling. I haven’t done that since high school!” Bright, not paying much attention, asks who comprises the “all.” Reid runs down the list: himself, Amy, Hannah, “and some Nick person?” Bright’s attention is now fully engaged. He looks at Reid suspiciously, as Reid continues that he thought Nick was perhaps “a buddy or something.” Bright, however, intensely asserts that he “ain’t got no buddies named ‘Nick.’ I know no Nicks.” Reid hastens to reply that Bright shouldn’t worry, since it “sounded like a friend thing.” An ‘Amy hostage situation’ thing, really. Reid then helpfully adds a “what do I know? I’ll keep an eye on it for you, okay?” After Reid leaves for his jog, Bright flings his reading material to the floor in anger.

Bedtime in the Nina et al. household. Nina, in the master bathroom, is explaining that they need to find a way to make Delia’s bat mitzvah “the place to be.” Jake, in the bedroom itself, appears to be very tired of the subject. Nina asks if he knows anyone at Apple: “‘Cause maybe we could give out Nanos as party favors!” She seems very pleased with this idea, while Jake whines that he doesn’t even have a Nano. Hee. He also adds, pointedly, that he thought they didn’t want to teach the kids to buy their way out of problems. Nina, however, has decided to “screw the lesson,” because she wants revenge and for “Delia’s party to kick ass.” Jake weakly points out that it’s supposed to be a rite of passage. Nina irritably asks if he’s actually trying to annoy her, “because I’m already at, like, 9 here.” Jake can tell, but wonders why. Nina notes, not incorrectly, that Thalia’s Mom was “horrible.” Jake asks why Nina cares as much as does, given that it’s not her problem, as the Browns aren’t “family.” Nina protests that they are, “in a way.” Jake observes, however, that they’re actually not: “I know they feel like they are, but you have a family already. There’s gotta be a line, right?” Nina defensively asks what that means, and makes her way to the vanity. Jake explains that “feeling bad for Delia is one thing, but marching over to some woman’s house with Andy is another. He’s not your husband.” Nina wears a blank expression as Jake, after a few moments, asks if she ever considered how all this might make Jake feel, particularly given how Nina and Andy “used to feel” about each other. Nina takes this all in, and finally apologizes for not thinking about that, adding hastily, and, one would think, unnecessarily, that Jake does realize there’s nothing going on between them, right? Jake does know this, and says that he trusts her, Nina’s response to which is to look somewhat guilty. Jake gazes at her a moment and makes several unsuccessful attempts to speak before Nina finally implores him to tell her. Jake reluctantly says that it’s “nothing,” but that things between them have seemed “off” since his return from L.A. He asks if he’s crazy. Nina’s like, “Of course you are! Everything’s great! Ha ha ha!” Jake smiles, but seems unconvinced, though I can’t fathom why. They kiss. Jake heads for the bathroom, while Nina remains seated at the vanity and looks guilty some more.

Next day. In spite of her apparent status as a relatively popular girl, Delia’s eating lunch alone, until a girl who looks older than 11 or 12 takes a seat at the table and declares that she’s been looking everywhere for Delia, as she has “some amazing info” for her. Delia replies that she already knows about Courtney kissing some boy in the cafeteria. Delia’s friend – oh, I’ll just come out with it: Thalia – deems that “old news,” as they’ve been a couple since third period. Seriously, Delia. No, Thalia’s real news is that “that loser Ashlee Simpson” backed out of performing at her party. Delia is happily stunned, while Thalia continues that her horrible mom is now booking Jessica, which is a step up. I guess. Thalia concludes that the process should take a few weeks, meaning that Delia’s “bat mitzvah thing is back on.” Delia notes that there were never any plans to cancel it, but says that she’s glad Thalia can attend. Thalia’s happy, but just has one little request of Delia: uninvite Brittany, “like, ten minutes ago.” Delia asks why, as Thalia and Brittany are friends and, more importantly, she’s been Delia’s best friend for ages. Thalia, however, says that Brittany is “evil” because she totally tried to kiss Micah Dyer, whom “everyone knows” Thalia totally broke up with just two weeks before, meaning that he’s “off-limits” for an additional four weeks!!! !1!1!11! Delia diplomatically suggests that Brittany may not have known, but Thalia aggressively reminds her that “rules are rules: ignorance is no excuse.” Thalia, standing, concludes that Delia can invite Brittany if she wants, but “if you do? She’ll be the only one there.” Sadly, Sweater Set seems to be the friendly one in the family. Thalia says it’s “Delia’s call,” and stalks off, leaving Delia all forlorn.

Harold’s Office of Horrible Medical News. James asks what’s wrong, wondering if they have to reschedule the C-section. Harold, however, informs him that his test results came back, and his condition is far more serious than they initially thought: he’s in the advanced stages of aplastic anemia. James, reasonably confused, asks what that means, exactly. Harold explains that his bone marrow has stopped producing red and white blood cells and platelets, making him susceptible to all the things he’s already experienced, as well as infection. In summary: “Your body’s fighting a losing battle.” As James tries to process this, Harold concludes that his chances of long-term survival are low, adding a heartfelt, but probably not very useful, “I’m so sorry.” Incidentally, aplastic anemia is not actually the automatic death sentence that the show makes it out to be, but Tom Amandes and Justin Kirk are so good here that I really don’t care. James wonders if “that’s it: I just die?” Harold suggests that some measures can be taken to prolong his life, citing isolation as the main one. James, however, disbelievingly asks if Harold is “crazy,” given that the C-section is scheduled for the next day and he can’t leave Kathy. Harold consolingly says that he knows this, while James wonders what happens after the baby is born. Harold doesn’t have an answer, although anyone who’s seen “Foreverwood” does. James stands, and, pacing a little, asks if he’s supposed to spend weeks in a hospital, noting that Kathy will need his help. He finally declares that “there’s no way” he’ll go to the hospital. Harold quietly acknowledges that it’s an “overwhelming amount of information to take in,” as well as an “incredibly difficult decision,” but that, as James’s doctor, he wanted to suggest a treatment. “As a friend,” however, he understands if James chooses not to pursue it. James nods a little, then, looking stricken, wonders how this happened to him. “I’m about to be a father. Having a little girl. My life can’t be ending – my life’s just starting. Just starting now.” Harold looks down sadly. Well. After all that, who isn’t ready for...

...Super Terrific Happy Bowling Hour! Reid, for one, is pumped! Bowling a strike, he emits a “Whoo!” and exclaims that he has the “touch” tonight! He asks for his score, which is, according to Nick, a 180. Nick concludes that they should all just forfeit. Reid turns to Amy and suggests, possibly only semi-jokingly, that they join a bowling league and get matching shirts. Amy dryly calls that “every girl’s dream,” and Reid turns to Hannah, asking if she’s in. Hannah: “I don’t think I should be allowed to throw heavy objects right now.” Hee. Amy holds back a laugh, while Reid continues that the other bowlers just need to improve their form. He leads Amy to the lanes to serve as his first student. Hannah watches them, plainly cranky, while Nick seizes his opportunity to have some alone time with her. As he asks what she likes to do, given that bowling is clearly not her “thing,” she and Amy exchange another pair of looks regarding Reid’s insanely happy attitude, before Hannah finally replies that she doesn’t have a thing. Nick, realizing that his date has no interest in actually interacting with him, says that’s “cool.” Reid, clutching Amy, exuberantly demonstrates proper bowling form, laughing loudly after releasing the ball. Hannah stares, finding it all perfectly weird. Nick...didn’t get the message after all and is still talking to her, actually, remarking on his fondness for rugby. Hannah briefly turns her attention from the bowling duo and gives him a tight smile and nod. Nick grins back at her. Granted, Nick's attentiveness contrasts nicely with Bright's behavior way back in the disastrous double date of "Staking Claim," during which he whined that Hannah was boring and which eventually concluded with his leaving to go flirt with another girl; so to that end, nice parallel, show. Mostly, however, this is all just making Nick look kind of pathetic, and not in any sort of earned way. Amy's bowling lesson having ended, Reid asks who’s next. Nick volunteers himself, and remarks that "if I get another gutter ball, I’ll kill myself!” Oof. Hannah and Amy are a little uneasy, but Reid just takes it all in stride: “Well, hey, I got a whole ‘nother bottle of pills that’ll do the trick. Just make sure you take enough – otherwise it’s really embarrassing!” Whoa. Amy is shocked, but Hannah’s the one who’s really had it; rising from her seat, she apologizes to Amy, but deems the whole thing “insane.” Turning first to Reid, she asks if “you’re honestly joking about your suicide attempt?” Nick, previously unaware of this, suddenly looks mortified. Hannah asks if Reid really thinks anyone finds it funny, and continues that the point of the evening was to be supportive of him, “but, you know, maybe you don’t need our support, since obviously, you’re just, you’re so fine, with everything. Which means, Amy, you know, you can stop pretending this is a date” – neither Amy nor Reid much appreciates her honesty here – “and I, actually, don’t need to be here at all, because honestly, you know what? I have my own problems right now that I’d actually really like to deal with, so I really don’t need to be hanging out on a group date thing, whatever, no offense, Nick, sorry” – no offense is taken, because Nick is already so intensely enamored of her that he seems amused, or something – “I’m just – I’m really, really distraught.” [Aw, she totally has a “thing” – she’s a writer. Because only a writer would actually use the word ‘distraught’ in the midst of a meltdown.] She runs off. Eh, might not have been her shining moment, but I can't say as I disagree with anything she said. Amy cringes a little. Nick watches her flee. Reid finally looks unsettled. Nick declares that he’d “better make sure she’s okay,” because evidently he and Hannah have connected so deeply during this hideous evening that it’s most certainly his responsibility to check on her well-being. Amy gazes sadly at the now-downcast Reid, who skulks off to parts unknown.

Harold examines the Abbott fridge while phoning Rose. He hopes that she’s in the car, but, as she quickly informs him (and as we soon see), she’s still at the museum, due to all the work involved in opening a new exhibit. Harold sighs a bit and is clearly unhappy, but asks when she thinks she’ll be home. Rose says it will be an hour or two, and starts to give him a dinner suggestion, but Harold replies that he’s not hungry, astutely and gravely observing that he’s “had the most awful day.” While he starts to explain the long, sad saga of James and Kathy, a man whom I assume is Rose’s boss appears and asks for her. Rose quietly tells him she’ll “be right there,” prompting Harold to ask what she said. Rose explains, and asks what Harold was saying. Harold sighs again, and glumly says “never mind.” He apologizes for bothering her while she’s busy, and says that he’ll see her when she gets home. Rose says okay and hangs up, smiling, because she’s several miles away from all the various tragedies currently playing out. Harold, not smiling, pensively rests his chin in the hand still holding the phone.

Nina, Jake, and Sam are merrily scooping out ice cream. The doorbell rings; as Nina leaves to answer it, Jake playfully ‘snows’ bits of ice cream onto Sam. That should be just as much fun once it melts, leaving sticky residue all over the counter, floor, and Sam himself. Nina finally reaches the door, and opens it to reveal, of course, Andy, who comes right on in and announces that he has the “perfect idea” for Delia’s party. Apparently someone neglected to tell her father about the Great Simpson Sister Switch! He tells Nina to make some coffee for their “strategy session,” but Nina declines, citing plans to watch a movie. Andy apologizes for interrupting, and invites her to come over the next morning to “hammer this out,” even offering to pick up her favorite crumb cake. Nina declines again, claiming that she has to go to the office to do paperwork. Andy Gets It, and responds with a quiet “oh.” Nina replies, in turn, with a thoughtful “yeah.” Andy says that he understands, leading Nina to apologize. Andy assures her that “it’s fine,” and that he can handle things on his own. He tells her he’ll see her later, which she echoes, before making his exit. Nina is resigned, while Jake, whom we now discover has been watching all this, looks a bit impressed by her decisive action.

Hannah is now hangin’ in the arcade. Nick pops by and asks if she needs quarters, which she does not. He then holds out an Icee, which he says he got for her. I am finding him deeply irritating. But Hannah is rather flattered and accepts the frozen gift, while Nick takes a seat next to her and, after allowing for the fact that he’s from another country, asks if blue raspberries are actually found in nature. That was...kind of amusing. Hannah laughs that she doesn’t think any bowling alley food can be found in nature. They both laugh a little more, before Hannah offers an apology for the evening, explaining that she’s “going through some stuff” at the moment and isn’t normally one to raise her voice in that way. Nick, however, assures her it was “no problem. I was just happy to finally hear you talk.” Hannah is flattered again, and they both laugh, again, as Hannah quips that it was a “nice introduction," prompting even more laughter. Fine, okay? Nick is perfectly fine. There is nothing actually wrong with Nick.

Amy exits the bowling alley only to find Reid, who’s apparently taken up smoking. Amy slowly walks towards him and, taking a seat on a conveniently-located bench, asks if that’s “part of the ‘New Reid.’” Reid reiterates this phrase, and Amy adds “or whoever you’re trying to be?” Reid replies that he’s “just trying not to be who I was before,” which apparently necessitates the involvement of nicotine. He continues that he’s spent the past few days “plastering on a fake smile and pretending to be happy,” so guesses that “old habits die hard.” He takes another drag and hacks up a lung, then: “And new habits are difficult to pick up cough cough choke [puts out cigarette].” He apologizes, though Amy asks why; he explains that he’s sorry for asking her out, saying that it was “unfair” of him. Amy, however, insists that she wanted to come, as she was worried about him. Reid knows this, and continues that he doesn’t want to be where he is at the moment, but wants to “skip the next part and go straight to the end, where I have everything figured out.” Amy rather unsupportively laughs that he doesn’t really think he can do that, though Reid admits that it was fun to pretend. Joining her on the bench, he confesses that he asked her out because it was during their first go-round in “September” [wrong! They didn’t kiss until after the Halloween haunted house thing!] that he last felt like he was “in a good place – you know, med school hadn’t brought me down, I still had a future...still had hope...” Amy, who’s been listening patiently, takes a deep breath and asks if Reid knows about Colin, or, more specifically, about his death and prior status as Amy’s boyfriend. Reid is surprised by this information, and Amy goes on, explaining that she initially did everything she could “not to deal. I figured if I did that long enough, the pain would just go away.” However, as she, and we, know all too well, she didn’t improve, “and things just got darker and darker until...I was almost where you were at last week,” at which point she finally realized she needed to deal with her pain, and may I just express my love for this show for not only remembering Amy’s depression, but for actually having her reference it in order to help another depressed character? Character continuity is a thing of beauty. Reid asks how she dealt. Amy explains that, for one, she stopped pretending to be okay, “and started having all of the hard conversations,” even including a few with Colin, though I mainly only remember the drug-induced one. She concludes that all of this finally brought her out of her dark place. She laughs a bit again and tells Reid that for as great a smile as he has, he can’t hide behind it for long; “I just think you need to find the pain, wherever yours is, and just deal with it, you know? Just my opinion.” Reid considers this.

Brown kitchen, the next day. While Andy writes something on a legal pad, Delia enters, carrying her backpack, and informs him that she’s riding her bike to the park. Andy, in turn, informs her that he’d like to discuss the bat mitzvah when she gets back, as he has lots of ideas. “We may even need a bouncer!” Hee. Delia, however, tells him not to worry, as Thalia’s party was moved. Andy thinks this is “fantastic,” as Delia continues that Thalia won’t be coming, anyway. Andy, in the same tone of voice, deems this “less fantastic.” But Delia fills him in on Thalia’s order regarding Brittany, which she resolved by uninviting Thalia, instead. Andy asks if Delia’s all right with that, which Delia genuinely is: “Truthfully, it’s kind of a relief. This whole ‘being popular’ thing is a lot of work. It seemed really cool in the beginning, but now? I’m over it. I may not have as many friends as I did before, but I’ll actually like the ones I do have.” Oh, Delia! You’re growing up so fast! And so well! Andy, smiling proudly, calls this “a step in the right direction.” Delia thinks she did gain something from spending as much time with Thalia as she did: she learned who she doesn’t want to be, “and until I figure out who I do want to be, I’ll just go back to being who I was.” To demonstrate, she removes from her backpack...a baseball cap! Aw! She remarks that the whole thing is “quite a process.” Andy says that if she waits a few minutes, he’ll ride with her; Delia, applying lip gloss [hee – the marriage of her two selves], smirks and notes that there’s a possibility that one ‘Jeff Broman’ will be there, “and no offense, but you’re kind of a mojo killer.” Andy takes this well, and seems quite pleased indeed with his daughter’s steps towards maturity.

A scrubs-clad Harold and a nurse wheel a baby into the room where James has presumably been waiting out the delivery. James asks if Kathy’s all right, which Harold assures him he is, additionally noting that they’ll start her on the antipsychotic meds in a few hours. James thanks him, and glances at his new daughter rather warily. Harold looks at the baby as well, and asks if they’ve chosen a name. James says they have: Lily, which Kathy loves and which was one of the last things they discussed before her condition deteriorated. Harold, smiling, calls it a “beautiful name.” Good thing you like it, Harold. Just saying. James stares at Harold rather intensely; picking up on this, Harold tells James that he can take Lily to the nursery if James isn’t “ready.” James, though, declares himself ready, and Harold lifts Lily from the bassinet and places her in James’s arms. James goes very much into New Dad mode, oohing and aahing over the baby, much to Harold’s delight. After gazing at Lily for a few moments, James sadly observes that he “could have loved her all this time. These past nine months, I’ve been so angry, I’ve been so resentful, ready for the pregnancy to be over with...so I could have my life back.” Brief close-up on Lily’s face, as James continues that he “spent so much time waiting for this part – figuring I’d get to enjoy this part – ” He gets a little choked up here. He’s not the only one. “ – And now that I don’t...look what I wasted.” Staring at Lily, and tearing up, he muses that he “missed the entire ride, and I lost the chance to love her, didn’t I.” He sighs that he’d “give anything to have that time back. Nine months with my sweet little Lily.” Harold is smiling, because he enjoys emotional catharsis as much as I do. James cradles Lily and whispers that he “would love her so much” and I HATE THIS SHOW. This stands, by the way, as the only MEoW ever to make me cry. Apparently I’m easy where the conjunction of Justin Kirk, babies, fatal disease, and schizophrenia is concerned. Harold finally departs, leaving the two alone. Fortunately, the camera crew departs as well.

Apartment. Packing boxes are all around. Bright, sitting at the counter, gloomily remarks that “it’s just so sudden” and he needs “more notice for stuff like this.” Reid, from his bedroom, replies that he already told Bright he would give him the last month’s rent, but Bright doesn’t mean “financial notice,” but “emotional notice. Break-ups, goodbyes...” Reid is moving out! *tears* Not that I really care all that much, but I'm a little vulnerable at the moment. Bright asks if Reid really has to go now, which Reid insists that he does, citing Amy’s “interesting” advice. Bright is not at all surprised to learn of Amy’s hand in “ruin[ing] a good thing.” Reid says that Amy was right, though, about his having to work through the issues that landed him where he presently is, and so he’s returning to his mother and Danny. Amy walks in, announcing that the moving truck is there; she asks, perhaps slightly belatedly, if Reid is sure he knows how to drive a U-Haul. Reid is not, but “I figure I’ll learn as I go. That’s my new motto.” He smiles, probably sincerely, but it’s hard to tell with him. Amy gives him a goodbye hug and tells him to call her when he gets home; he promises to do so, and thanks her. Reid smirks that “it’s weird – to think that less than a year ago I didn’t even know what Everwood was.” Amy observes that “a lot of people say that.” And that’s part of why it got canceled! The very day after this episode aired, in fact! *cries some more* Reid continues that now, he “can’t imagine [his] life without it,” and that he’ll really miss it. Amy, looking and sounding slightly disgusted, asks Reid to stop before he makes her cry. Join the frickin’ club, Amy. Ephram suddenly (and loudly, as the door bangs against a few boxes) enters. Ephram! Ephram’s home! I missed you! *sob* Ephram asks if he missed the hugs, but Reid assures him he’s just in time, and asks how New York was. Ephram says it was “busy,” then, looking around, remarks that he can’t believe Reid is moving out. Reid goes all Beat Poet on us and starts talking about “hitting the open road” and having the “wind in my hair,” though he ultimately admits that he’s only going to Denver. Bright: “And, like your hair could have any movement with that amount of crap in it.” Your attempt at levity is much appreciated, Bright. Amy declares that it’s time to go, and orders Bright to help her carry boxes. The Abbotts exit, while Ephram sits down with a bowl of cereal or something that I think he just stole from Bright. Reid observes that he currently feels like “Dorothy, from The Wizard of Oz.” Ephram: “And you wonder why we always think you’re gay.” Heh. Reid ignores this, and admits that he doesn’t know what to say to Ephram; “how can you say goodbye to someone who literally saved your life?” Ephram assures him they’ll keep in touch, and picks up a box, with which he struggles. He jokingly asks if Reid has weights in there. Reid, probably serious, asks “what else would it be?” Ephram carries the box out, leaving Reid behind to take one last, rather dreamy look around the apartment before making his own exit. Though, it’s worth noting that there are several boxes still there, so I guess he planned to make everyone else take them down.

Continuing with a theme, Harold is putting together boxes in a room that was clearly designated for their adopted child. Rose appears in the doorway and says that she’s been looking all over for him. Oh! There is a tiny outfit hanging on the wall – and it involves a sweater vest. Hilarious and sad. Wonderful. Noticing the boxes, Rose remarks that she didn’t know they were going to do it that night. Harold says that they don’t have to, if she’s not ready, but Rose’s only concern was the paperwork she had been planning to do, and asks Harold to give her twenty or so minutes. Harold replies that they can just do it another night, whenever she has time. Rose frowns and asks what’s wrong. Harold denies that anything is wrong, and says that he just doesn’t want to “rush anything anymore,” given that they spent the previous seven months doing so, “and what do we have to show for it?” Rose, walking further into the room, wonders what Harold means, exactly. What Harold means is that though, during the months of the adoption process, they spent every day together and shared nearly every meal, they never talked about anything other than the adoption. Rose, a little taken aback, notes that it “seemed important at the time,” which Harold agrees that it did, “but...” Rose, completing his thought, says that they didn’t get the baby, “so now you’re upset that we wasted all this time?” Harold, actually, is upset that they “wasted a golden opportunity;” while they were preoccupied with paperwork and such, “not only did we forget to enjoy the journey...Honey, we forgot to enjoy each other.” Rose concedes this. Harold says that they’ve returned to their “busy lives,” and admits that he misses Rose. Rose gives him an emotional “oh, Harold,” and walks up to him. Harold concludes that while they never wanted to pack up the room, “it’s the last step of the journey,” and he wants to share it with Rose. Then, a knock on the door!

Except that said knock, though initially heard over the end of the previous scene, is actually occurring at the door of the Apartment of Continuing Heartbreak. Bright, back to the couch and tossing a ball in the air, yells at “Amy” that it’s open. The door opens, and, at the sound of a female voice not belonging to Amy, Bright leaps to his feet. He and Hannah – who can now actually look at him – exchange awkward greetings. Hannah asks if Reid has already left, which Bright confirms, much to her disappointment, as she had, for some reason, been under the impression that he was leaving the next morning. Bright guesses that Reid could only get a truck for that day, and adds that Reid told him to tell Hannah goodbye. Hannah nods, while Bright scratches his head in a fidgety manner, making me hope that he hasn’t recently been hanging out with Sam. Hannah finally says that she should go, but Bright, making his first move, takes a few steps towards her and casually urges her to stay and “hang out.” Hannah, increasingly discomfited, reiterates her intention to leave, but Bright again stops her, in an even more pathetic way: after urging her to “wait,” which she actually does, he asks if she had a good time bowling, and smiles a little, apparently pleased at his own quick thinking. Hannah, finally moving away from the door, asks, dubiously, if Bright really wants to hear about her date. Bright makes a face and admits that he doesn’t, really, “but if we’re gonna be friends again, we’re gonna have to start somewhere, so...” He raises his arms in a gesture of resignation. Hannah says nothing, which in itself speaks pretty loudly. Bright, who’s hoping for one answer only, asks if they’re going to be friends again. Hannah confesses that she doesn’t know. Bright sighs her name, but Hannah explains that it’s not because she’s angry, but because “I don’t know how to just be friends with you anymore, Bright. I mean, I know we started off as friends...” Bright seizes another opportunity and cuts in that that’s exactly why they can go back to being friends! Oh, Bright. He pleads that she has to give him “something,” and, looking contrite but hopeful, continues with some variations on things we’ve heard before: “I know I don’t deserve it – I’m not saying I deserve it, I don’t. But, I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” Hannah admits that she can’t, either, but also admits that she wants neither to discuss her dates with Bright nor to hear about his. Bright, however, is very quick to assert that he hasn’t been on any dates, “and I don’t even want to go on dates, so...!” I wish I could convey the full measure of how pitiful Bright comes across in this entire scene. It’s kind of lovely. Hannah, in any case, rebuts that Bright will, “and if we’re talking all the time, like we’re friends or whatever, I’m just going to be waiting for that to happen.” Though one would think that Bright couldn’t come across as much more desperate than he already has, one would be wrong. In an inappropriately, yet heartbreakingly, flirtatious manner, he takes a few more steps towards her and kind of sing-songs that “it doesn’t have to be like that.” Oh, Bright. Hannah, frustrated, insists that she “can’t keep having this conversation.” Bright takes a step back and agrees that she’s “absolutely right.” Hannah concludes that she thinks she needs to find a way to move on with her life. As Bright stares at her, beginning to understand, Hannah adds a killer: “Without you.” Bright nods a little, and Hannah, seeming very much out of sorts, finally makes her exit. Bright – wow. Bright is sad, by which I mean, "Bright is about to cry, again, and Chris Pratt and the director and show are pure evil, and I now want desperately to give a fictional character a big hug and sundaes and kittens and puppies, but will have to settle for quietly crying myself into a state of dehydration."

Over in the Land of It's Hard to Get Excited About Much After All That, Nina and Jake are on Everwood’s sidewalk, having just dined in some restaurant. Nina is very excited to be on a date with Jake for the first time in “forever.” Jake declares that he’s going to be better about things like that from now on, and Nina adds that she will, as well. Jake is grinning like Reid now, which prompts Nina to ask what’s up. Jake directs her to a bench; Nina wonders if something is the matter, but Jake assures her that everything’s fine, but that he just needs to talk with her. He stares at her silently for a couple of seconds, which scares Nina. Jake laughs and apologizes and admits that he was suddenly nervous, but proceeds with his topic: his L.A. partners got the necessary funding and want to move ahead with Jake’s program. Nina thinks this is “amazing,” but there’s more, as “moving forward” would also necessitate actually moving. He explains that there are “a million little details,” but that the major ones involve a return to school and an expansion of the program, both of which his partners want to have happen in L.A. Nina “wow”s this, and, after a few more moments, continues, resignedly, that she knows how important this is to Jake, so if he feels he needs to move... Jake is very quick to interject that he didn’t only mean himself, but Nina and Sam as well. Nina is pleasantly surprised, as Jake insists that he doesn’t want to do anything without Nina; “that’s the whole point.” He explicitly states his desire for Nina and Sam to move to L.A. with him. Nina is overwhelmed, and...the show ends. Well, that was anticlimactic, coming on the heels of several scenes considerably more heartwrenching than this. Eh, at least the tears stopped.

Next time: Oh, Rose suspects that her cancer’s back and Bright falls through a window and Irv keels over and FINE, show. WHATEVER. MORE PAIN. Gah.