Goodbye Love

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(and feeling:that if day
has to become night

this is a beautiful way)

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

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!