By Evany
The boys are back in town: Mike's awake, Andrew's come home, and John the Gardener's here for a quick trim of Gabby's hedges. Here's how it happens: Susan and Ian go away to his cabin for the weekend. After first pausing to let their insecurities run wild -- how little experience he's had (the only other woman he's slept with is his wife) versus the eleven notches on her bedpost -- they finally do the deed. Which means that Susan's not at the hospital when Mike finally opens his eyes -- but Edie sure is! Lynette and Gabby go to the spa for the weekend, leaving Tom takes the kids on a camping trip. But Tom's trick back goes out (the trick being that it seems to go out whenever Lynette really needs to do something important for herself), and Lynette has to come to the rescue. Unfortunately, Snora manipulates her way into the rescue party, and the two women embark on a bicker festival of a road trip. In the middle of all the snaps and snips, Snora reveals that Tom isn't happy in advertising, which is why he hasn't been trying very hard to get a job. Thus illuminated, Lynette gives Tom carte blanche to pursue whatever his dreams may be -- a far too open-ended offer of support that's sure to pave the way for some unpleasant storylines (Tom Opens An Emu Farm, or Tom Takes An Erotic Massage Class, or Tom Paints His Stomach To Look Like A Face And Learns To Dance So It Looks Like His Bellybutton Is Whistling). Back at the spa, Gabby runs into John the Gardener who, it turns out, is now rich with his own landscaping company. They sleep together (Gabby has a trick back of her own...a trick mattress back), but then his fiancée shows up and Gabby is forced to make her escape by packing herself into John's luggage. Bree and Orson are all set to leave town for their honeymoon, but while waiting to board their flight, Bree spots a news story about homeless teens, with son Andrew front and center. She cancels the honeymoon and tracks down Andrew, but he's not at all interested in coming home. Bree is sad. Orson is sympathetic. Orson tracks down Andrew and tries to bond with him over their shared issues with rage management. Andrew resists, but by episode's end, he's back on Wisteria Lane. Oh, and Julie blows a fuse, literally, and Abby Austin has to come over and stand very, very close as he shows her how her fuse box works. Also literally.
Previously: all the stuff that happened last week (Julie met Edie's abdominally fortified nephew, Austin, Xiao Mei gave birth to the wrong baby, etc.), plus the part about how Bree abandoned Andrew by the side of the road back in Season 2.
Orson and Bree are at the airport, poised to jet off on their honeymoon. The screen melts into a "fantasy blur," and MAVO walks us through the many hopes and dreams that Orson had for this trip: lots of very cinematic shots of Bree and Orson lounging by the pool, making out in their five-star hotel bed, clinking champagne glasses in First Class. ["Either Orson is totally my ideal mate, or I am Orson." -- Wing Chun] I guess Orson's fantasies are so rosy that even Bree's alcoholism is somehow no longer a problem...either that or, uh oh, Orson doesn't even know about Bree's boozing?
Back in the now, Orson sighs and asks Bree if she knows how "happy" the two of them are going to be. Bree: "I don't need to be any happier than I am already at this very second!" They smile, they kiss. Bree notices that their flight is just about ready to board, and tells Orson that if he wants his "latte," it's now or never. Does First Class not have lattes? Orson scampers off, so Bree is alone when the television in the boarding area airs a newscast about homeless teens in the area. And there's Andrew, sunburnt and scruffy. He tells the interviewer that it's not all bad, living on the streets; there's all sorts of neat stuff to be found in dumpsters -- in fact, just last night he "found almost a whole bucket of chicken that had hardly been touched!" The interviewer turns to the camera and sums up Andrew's "heart-wrenching" story: "An alcoholic mother, a father murdered by the woman's boyfriend, and a childhood shattered the day his mother abandoned him on the side of the road." Well, when you put it that way....
Bree, standing now, looks like someone's kicked her in her perfectly toned stomach. On cue, an older woman sitting nearby says to Bree, "I'll tell you one thing: some people just should never be allowed to have children." Bree yelps and starts gathering up her stuff. Orson returns from his latte run and immediately notices that something's wrong. Bree tells him what she just saw, and he says, "Oh my god! Well, we'll call child welfare the minute we get to the resort." Bree is shocked that Orson thinks that they're still actually going on their honeymoon. Confused, Orson argues that the trip is "non-refundable." Bree, in full indignant mother bear mode: "My son is eating out of dumpsters!" Orson suggests that Bree will be much more equipped to deal with this situation after a nice, relaxing trip, and she snaps that if he's going to make her choose between him and her son, Orson is going to "lose": "Now please, get your ass in gear." I am fantastically annoyed by this sudden burst of self-righteousness from Bree: just where, exactly did she think Andrew was hanging out all this time? With no money besides the small wad of cash she gave him? And with ties to his grandparents effectively severed, also thanks to Bree? Ugh.
After pausing for credits, we launch into a "packing" montage, MAVO narrating that everyone's leaving town for the "holiday weekend." Fairview, it seems, celebrates Columbus Day in a big way. ["Or, Canadian Thanksgiving." -- Wing Chun] Lynette and Tom exchange a hasty goodbye on the front porch, Tom complaining about how "not fair" it is that Lynette is leaving him with the kids. Lynette points out that what's really "not fair" is the fact that they're low on funds and Tom's "barely even looked for a job." She rushes off with a curt "I love you" delivered without even turning back to look at him. MAVO explains that "Lynette was getting away from growing tension in their marriage."
Lynette walks up to Gabby's car just as Gabby is getting off the phone with Carlos: if he doesn't pony up the spousal support, his "shower buddies from jail will be throwing [him] a welcome-back party." MAVO tells us that Gabby's leaving town to escape "an increasingly bitter divorce."
Susan is zipping up a suitcase while on the phone with the hospital: she's leaving them the phone number where she can be reached while she's off in the "mountains" with a "friend": "And, uh, just in case you were wondering, it's strictly platonic." Julie, who's fiercely concentrating on building a...toy train village (?), mutters, "He wasn't wondering." MAVO: "Susan was getting away from mounting guilt."
Bree, however, is staying put in Fairview this weekend; she's on the phone, frantically and irritably trying to find someone who can help her to locate Andrew. Orson is standing beside her, and Danielle is sitting at the kitchen counter (hey, Danielle! Long time no see! How was your summer?), looking like she's recovering from a very bad perm. Danielle crabs that it "blows" that her "pathetic street junkie" of a brother is coming back to town, and that it's going to ruin her chances at becoming Homecoming Queen, a title she is "this close" to obtaining. Really? Danielle as Homecoming Queen; that must be some high school. Bree lectures, "You know, you could show a little compassion; your brother is out there on the street, struggling to survive!" Danielle: "And whose fault is that?" Ah, sweet relief: I am so glad someone said something! And really, this magical and sudden parental interest from Bree -- after not paying much thought to her booted boy, and after not even having her own daughter in her own wedding -- it does seem a little left-field-ish. Danielle click-clacks out of the kitchen in a huff, and Bree sinks into one of the breakfast stools. Orson tries to comfort her; a teenager who is determined to run away, he says, simply can't be stopped. Bree softly confesses that Andrew didn't really run away; actually she abandoned him at a gas station in the woods. As one does. Bree, head hung in shame: "I didn't tell you because I was afraid of what you'd think of me." This, obviously, is a relationship built on truth and trust. Orson comforts her and hugs up on her, telling her that she "did what [she] had to do," and then he declares that he doesn't want there to be any more "secrets" between them, though somehow I don't think this means that he's going to spill the beans about Operation Plumber Down the Drain. Bree assures Orson that she's all through with secrets.
Orson and Bree head out to (I guess?) go looking for Andrew. As they pass through the living room, they walk past Danielle, who is sitting in the foreground, reading a magazine. Without turning around to look at them, she yells, "You know Andrew isn't the only one having a rough year. I'm the one whose boyfriend got shot right in front of her." The zesty "Oops, Another Cover-up" music swells. Orson swivels his head to give Bree a look of comic puzzlement, and Bree tells him, "We'll talk in the car." I find it very hard to believe that Danielle managed to sit through Bree and Orson's six-month courtship without mentioning Matthew's SWAT team assassination even once. Though maybe she's been suffering from post-trauma amnesia until now? Or she went mute? Either/or, the writers really should have done a neater job of explaining just what Danielle's been up to since the evening of Matthew's death; shipped her off to grandma and grandpa's house, maybe, or even Camp Cognac?
Lynette and Gabby are lying face-down on massage tables, in the middle of a blooming garden, under a white tent, surrounded by Greek statues. The spa, it seems, is somewhere between luxurious and insane. The men doing the rubbing are muscular and tan and good-looking in that gym sort of way. Gabby is babbling about how stoked she is that Tom agreed to take the kids camping, and how glorious it is to be at the spa considering all she's been through (this, I fear, might be our last and only reference to her latest unexpected disappointment in the "making babies" department): "This weekend, I'm all about relaxing and rejuvenating --" Lynette: "Gabby? Could you be all about shutting up?" Lynette is mean. Gabby's cell phone rings; it's Tom. Lynette pantomimes a paroxysm of "no, don't hand me the phone," but Gabby doesn't notice (revenge for the "shut up" comment?) and hands Lynette the phone. Tom's back has gone out. Yes, again. The way his back collapses whenever Lynette really, really needs him to stay with the kids sure is suspicious. The scene on Tom's end is pandemonium: Tom is lying on his back with his head propped up on a rock (ha!); the three P-boys are jumping and running and screaming, and Penny is standing in the tent, alone, sucking her thumb and looking shell-shocked. Tom yells at Parker to "put down the damn ax!" In short: Lynette must leave the spa and come to the rescue. Lynette hangs up and says, "God, I hate my life." Gabby, eyes closed, supremely relaxed: "I know, I wouldn't trade with you for anything."
Susan and Ian are up at his cabin, and by "cabin," I mean a gorgeous and huge rustic mansion with Craftsman stained glass and cute vintage fixtures. And a lamp made of deer antlers. Susan comments on the gorgeous view. Ian, looking at Susan's ass, agrees. Ian is maybe creepy? , the two of them embark upon a long, uncomfortable exchange about where, exactly, she should commence her unpacking, as in: will they be sleeping in the same room, or separately? Finally, it's agreed that Susan will be in the guest bedroom, and she grabs her bag and heads off. Only, cringe, it turns out that Susan's accidentally grabbed Ian's bag, and sitting right on top of the bag is a long strip of condoms. If it were me, I'd have tucked that particular round of ammo into one of the suitcase's many, many pockets versus just letting it float around with all the clothes in the main compartment, but okay. Meanwhile, Ian opens up Susan's suitcase and unfurls a very sexy nightie. So much for her promise to Coma Mike that this thing with Ian is "just dinner." Susan bursts into Ian's room and, with much blushing, they exchange bags. Ian: "Well, I'm just going to, uhhh--" Susan, finishing his sentence: "Hide pathetically in your room? Me too."
Lynette, in a cab, pulls up in front of her house. Snora and her heaving, wildly exposed breasts are sitting on the stoop. (Cute dress, though: baby blue t-shirt material with an unusual blue and green tie-dye circle in front, which has been gathered with an outline of stitching. She also has a matching blue flower tucked behind her ear.) Turns out daughter Kayla called and told Snora about Tom's back, but since Snora's "car's been impounded again," she thought she'd catch a ride with Lynette. Lynette is not pleased about the idea of "eight hours" in a car with Snora. Eight hours? Tom took five kids to a camping spot eight hours away? Surely, what with all those nearby lakes, he could have selected a camping spot closer than that? Snora bullies her way into the car, declaring that she isn't going to let Lynette do her saint act, charging in to the rescue and letting everyone think of Snora as the "rotten mother" who stayed at home "eating bonbons."
With Lynette gone, Gabby is eating dinner alone back at their getaway spa hotel. She is surrounded by happy couples; they're drinking wine, they're kissing each other's shoulders, they're exchanging corsages. (Huh? Corsages? What is this, prom?) MAVO tells us that being surrounded by so many happy couples has prompted Gabby to think depressing thoughts about her divorce. Later, walking down the twinkle-lit path back to her room, Gabby passes a happy older couple and even a couple of bunnies. Gabby: "What is this, frickin' Noah's Ark?" So she's well steeped in loneliness when out of nowhere pops...John the Gardener.
Down in Fairview's skid row (who knew?), Bree, wearing head-to-toe pink, walks up to a long pair of legs and nervously says, "Excuse me, Ma'am?" The woman turns around, and we see that the "Ma'am" is most definitely a "Sir." Bree cutely stutter-downgrades her "Ma'am" to a "Miss," and then shows shim a photo of Andrew. The trans-hooker (nice clavicles!) sympathetically tells Bree that she doesn't recognize the boy, but notes that he's definitely "good-looking." The gender-bent lady of the night suggests that Bree go looking at the local soup kitchen. Or maybe Bree should just take a page from the Book of Susan, which declares that the very best way to find a homeless teen is to run around with an ice cream cone in each hand. Bree thanks the wo(man), and s/he introduces herself as "Miss Pearly Gates: 'cause you can't get to heaven without going through me." I was steeling myself for a much cruder joke here -- something about "swinging open the gates" and "getting a piece of heaven," maybe. ["Plus...'pearl.' You know." -- Wing Chun] Bree, smiling uncomfortably (and yet, I think, genuinely): "How very saucy." Why is she doing this alone? Why isn't Orson accompanying her on her dark-of-night jaunt down to skid row? I guess that, as a dentist, his hours are a little erratic, maybe he's got a late-late root canal?
Susan and Ian are at the cabsion ("mansbin"?), sipping brandy. Susan admires his piano, but he sadly confesses that he hasn't played since Jane's accident. The fire is firing, the music is tinkling romantically. They kiss, they sigh. Talk turns to how very long it's been since either of them has sexed it up, and Ian reveals that he's really only slept with one woman: his wife. He's kissed other girls, sure, but they were "twelve." Susan gives him a creeped-out look. He jumps to clarify: "As was I!" Susan tells Ian how "adorable" she finds his near-virginity, and he moans that he'd prefer be considered "dashing and worldly." Feeling insecure, he joke-seriously asks Susan how many notches she has on her belt: "Is it more than three?" She confesses that the magic number is "nine." Ian: "Please tell me that you're answering me in German." Hee! Susan is mad that Ian is shocked, and yells, "Nine lovers does not make me a slut!" Ian: "Why are you getting upset?" Susan, all wound up now: "Because it was really eleven and I knocked off two and you're still judging me!" Ian, indignant: "I'm not judging you, it's just...did you work in the recording industry?" Ha again! And yet...eleven is not a huge number. If we pause for just a moment to runs some numbers: Susan is forty years old, let's say. She has a teenaged daughter, which means that she was married and presumably faithful for -- what, fifteen years? Assuming that she lost her virginity at eighteen, that leaves her with seven years of active dating. Ten men in seven years, that's 1.each year, including Mike and that little doctor friend. And 1.per year, that is not slutty. Susan: "Just so you know, eleven is not a lot for a woman my age." Ian: "How old are you?" Susan, mad now: "What is this, the Gallup Poll?" And then she stomps off to bed, specifying that she'll be bedding "alone" tonight: "You know, [sleeping alone is] something I've always wanted to try, but I've just never gotten around to." Nice, snappy dialogue between these two, hurray!
Down at the luxury spa of rabbits and corsages, John the Gardener -- who is wearing a blazer -- is bragging to Gabby that his "company" does the landscaping for this very hotel and, in fact, for the "whole Sinclair Hotel chain." Gabby is impressed, laughing, "When I met you, all you had was a bike." Not only that, but the "gardening channel" is talking to John about maybe "hosting [his] own show." The Gardening Channel: plant yourself in front of the television. No wait, The Gardening Channel: for dirt-diggers and insomniacs everywhere. Gabby guesses that she won't be able to talk John into coming around her place to "pick the dead leaves off [her] ficus." Which I'm hoping, praying, pleading is not a metaphor for her aging, unused sex parts? John chuckles and agrees that he's "past that" now. And anyway, wouldn't Gabby's husband object? (So I guess it wasn't a metaphor? Oh.) Gabby sadly informs John of her pending divorce. He smiles, she smiles. "Gabrielle," he says, trying to wrap this up, "it was really great to see you." Gabby is aroused by the fact that he's finally managed to stop calling her "Mrs. Solis." They lock into a kiss. No, is that a "flavor savor" I spy on John's lower lip? Ugh, landscaper, landscape thyself!
Nighttime. Snora and Lynette are riding in the car, Snora noisily cracking nuts and spitting the shells into a cup, just like in When Harry Met Sally, but with pistachios instead of sunflower seeds. Snora asks if she can put the full cup of shells into the glove box, which seems like a stupid idea. Lynette also thinks that it's a stupid idea to put spitty nut rinds into the glove compartment just loose like that, what the hell?, so Snora sullenly goes to dump them out the window, and they of course come flying back inside the car. Snora laughs. Lynette, with supreme irritation, snidely comments that, with luck, the shells will "soak up the cream soda" Snora spilled earlier. Snora complains that Lynette's "favorite game" is "picking on" Snora. Lynette, ready to kill, says that her favorite game is actually "counting all the things" she'd love to say to Snora but doesn't, "like 'Pipe down, you annoying nut job!'" Snora tosses a pistachio at Lynette and accuses her of thinking Snora's "crazy." Lynette, sarcastically: "No! You're colorful. Colorful in a way that might respond to medication." Snora engages in some calm-seeming talk about the "levels of crazy," and then, by way of illustrating one of the far extreme end of nuttiness, she grabs the steering wheel and yanks the car into oncoming traffic. Oh, Snora, Snora, Snora. Don't you know that you're supposed to be past the calculated edginess by the time high school is over? Lynette screams and yells and screams, "If you want to kill yourself, fine. But don't take me with you." Snora snarks that Lynette would probably be happy if Snora in fact did manage to bump herself off, and Lynette admits that if Snora did do something that drastic, Lynette would "find a way to carry on." It's a good line, both the way it's written and the way Felicity Huffman delivers it. Snora is not amused. The "Crazy Lady Gone Crazier" music swells, and Snora levels her eyes at Lynette and malevolently instructs her, in that calm, calm voice of the truly insane, to "pull over." They bicker and battle, but in the end, Lynette pulls over, and Snora waves down a truck. And the way she walks herself up into the truck is hilarious: her arms and head remain stationary while her legs climb up the truck's ladder, so she's able to stare back at Lynette with wrath and judgment until she's almost horizontal, and then she kicks feet first into the cab. Hard to describe, and yet...hilarious.
Julie is at home, fiddling with her little train village. Aww, that is so weird and cute! She's got it set up so that a fan is blowing on a miniature windmill, but still the lights inside the tiny homes are fading. She's on the phone (with her lab partner, I'm guessing), saying, "I'm way ahead of you." Julie starts up a hair dryer and points it at her windmill, and the lights in the village glow bright. Julie shouts: "I'm a genius!" Just as, with perfect comedic timing, the electricity in the house fails. Wah-wah.
Julie ding-dong-ding-dong-dings the door at Edie's house, and Austin comes out wearing nothing but boxers, beer in hand. Edie's out for the night. Julie makes a show of her exasperation that Austin is the only person in the whole neighborhood who seems to be home. They banter back and forth -- her snobby about how he couldn't possibly understand her problem, which is very science-y; him condescending about her immense science dorktastic-ness -- until it's revealed that Austin actually knows a little something about electricity. Yes, he's good with his hands; you recall that the man-boy tinkers with motorbikes, so he does possess demonstrated mechanical abilities. Julie agrees to allow him to help her, and he smiles and tells her he'll just go "grab a flashlight." Julie, embarrassed and irritated and attracted all at once: "Maybe you could also grab a shirt...and some pants."
Susan is lying in bed, awake, in the dark, wearing a cute pair of men's PJs. Ian knocks on the door. Susan: "I'm with a client, take a number." Funny! He confesses that he's sorry, and that he's just insecure. She says she can't stay mad at that "English accent," blah blah, and they start getting all romantical again. Susan breaks up the huddle to make a little speech -- always a great idea, I've found, especially if you're someone like Susan, who has an unerring ability to say the exact wrong things at the wrong times...even at the right times -- about how she knows she's only his "second lover," ugh, which she knows "means a lot," but that she hopes it isn't too, too, too significant? Ian, jokingly: "I assure you, I'm as capable of having meaningless sex as you are." The "Look Who's Not Getting Any Tonight" music thrums, and Susan reverts back to mad mode: "Don't judge me, Mr. Virgin Plus One!" Whee! Ian tries to sway her with some British-isms -- "Cheerio" and "Bob's your uncle" -- but this bird, she's no longer up for a snog.
Down at the Fairview soup kitchen, Bree is showing Andrew's photo around. Andrew, who is at the front of the food line, hears her voice and tries to make a break for it. But rather than skirt the room and slip out behind her, for some reason (bad direction? or maybe a secret desire to meet up with Bree?), he just pulls his hood down and walks straight for her. As he passes Bree, she (of course) recognizes him. She grabs him and cries out with relief, and then keens over the bruise he has on his face. He tells her that it's "none of [her] business," and then pointedly asks why she isn't "home taking care of [her] new husband." Yeah, he saw the wedding announcement in a paper he was huddling under it to stay warm. Bree apologizes; she knows that what she did was monstrous, but she's his mother, et cetera! Andrew: "You dumped your son at a gas station seven months ago. I'm somebody else now." Well, exactly. And yet, the things Andrew did to Bree were also terrible. And yet, and yet: her sudden burst of caring about Andrew is so profoundly maddening! Not that a person can't have regrets, but the fact that she flipped so abruptly makes it very hard to be sympathetic. I know that I keep harping on this, but...the last time we saw Andrew, Bree hated him enough to strand him with very little money, no inheritance, and no family connections, and now suddenly she's frantically searching under every tranny's skirt for him? I don't buy it. Maybe if we had seen just a hair of slowly mounting regret -- like having Bree run into Justin and discover that Andrew's gone missing or something, because hello, where's Justin in all this? -- that might have helped to get me somewhat on board with this. But whatever; Andrew and Bree are both pretty unredeemable in this scenario, so maybe they'll get to the point where their bad deeds just cancel each other out, giving them a fresh start. Moving right along: Andrew runs out into traffic, and Bree stands on the sidewalk, screaming, "Andrew, PLEASE!" as he scampers off into the night.
Lynette is having a great time. She's driving, eating a huge hamburger, and bobbing her head along to the car radio, which is blasting "Proud Mary," the CCR version. Her head stops mid-bob, however, when she spots Snora sitting on a rock on the side of the road. Lynette pulls over and rolls down the passenger-side window. Snora: "The guy grabbed my boob so I hit him over the head with his bong and I got out." Bongs are funny.
Back in the car, Snora apologizes for pitching a fit; it's just that Lynette's crack about suicide "hit home." Lynette is full of regret: she didn't know about Snora's history with suicide attempt(s). She apologizes, and then starts pointing out the many things Snora has going for her now: she's got a "beautiful daughter," and a "fun job at the Pancake House." Snora's working for Susan's stepfather, Bob Newhart? Hoo, I'd be interested in seeing a scene play out between those two. Also: hip, hip hur-continuity! Snora counters that that's easy enough for Lynette to say, seeing as Lynette's life is "perfect," what with the "husband" and the "career." Lynette: "Excuse me? Did you smoke that bong before you beat the guy with it?" Snora accuses Lynette of being a "supermom." ["Does 'super' mean 'horrendous' in Fairview?" -- Wing Chun] Lynette, ranting: "I work twelve hours a day, and then I come home to what seems like thirty-three children and a husband who refuses to get a job." Re: Tom, Snora says that "maybe he'd try a little harder to find a job if he didn't hate advertising so much." Snora, it seems, knows something about Tom that Lynette doesn't. Lynette, perturbed, wants to know why Tom never told her about his hatred of the ad world. Snora claims that he's "afraid," because Lynette's the "kind of woman who when someone says they want to kill themselves, [she] says 'go ahead.'" Lynette laughs dismissively, and then the "Woman Questioning Self and Marriage" music swells. Big wheel keeps on turning!
Over at Julie's darkened house, Austin invites Julie to join him in the closet that houses the circuit breaker, but she transparently claims to be "good" where she is, out in the living room. He insists that she needs to learn how to fix this problem herself. She joins him and, standing behind her, he reaches around like a guy guiding a girl through her first game of pool, and shows her how it's done: just switch the circuit breaker off, and then on. The lights blast into life, and suddenly Austin and Julie are standing way too close together. Also, Austin is wearing a little black tank top. Julie is completely disarmed by his proximity, and laughs nervously that he could have just told her what to do, seeing how simple it was to fix. He flirtily agrees. Circuit breaking is sexy. They're standing there, silently looking at each other, when Edie strolls in wearing a form-fitting white dress and looking so fine. Julie springs into "guilty schoolgirl" mode, explaining that Austin was just there helping her with the lights, because she "overloaded [her] circuits." Edie, all-knowingly: "I can see that." Austin: "So she's doing this big science project, and she needed me to explain how electricity works. I think that's called irony." Rory-I-mean-Julie and Jess-I-mean-Austin exchange a glance that's all bubbly with chemistry. Edie asks Julie for the CD player Susan borrowed "back when [Edie] could stand [Susan]." Julie reports that Susan's taken the CD player down to the hospital for Coma Mike's listening pleasure. (Much ballyhoo was made on the boards about how the CD player should have burned up back when Edie torched their house, but for the sake of moving on, let's just say that it was in Susan's trunk at the time of the fire.) Edie rolls her eyes over Susan's "Florence Nightingale act," and then sends "Science Guy" Austin home to mix up an "experiment" of gin and vermouth for her.
Austin leaves, and Edie sidles up to Julie and warns her to steer clear of her nephew. Julie, laughing unconvincingly: "I have no interest in swaggering, muscle-bound juvenile delinquents." Edie, stroking Julie's hair, "Honey, that's what every good girl says just before she becomes a bad girl. Trust me, I know." Ah yes; in the words of Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine: "Bad, bad, bad, bad boys, they make [one] feel so good." Wow, Edie started out as a good girl? That's unexpected, and yet...somehow makes perfect sense. Well then, if she's been through the " bad-news boy" stage, she knows more than anyone that warning a teenaged girl away from a shirtless motor-boy is like rubbing catnip all over a couch you don't want scratched.
Gabby and John are naked in bed, enjoying some post-coital lounging. They're laughing about "old times." Gabby: "Except now when we're done, I don't have to proofread your essay about Ethan Frome!" John: "And I don't have to jump out of a window!" Oh, the hilarious obstacles of statutory rape. They snuggle and buss, and he suggests that they order up a bottle of "Dom." Gabby coos, "I like rich John!" John's cell rings: why, it's his fiancée, calling to tell him that she's down in the lobby, and on her way up to his room. It's nice when they call to warn you, isn't it? John leaps into action, throwing Gabby's dress at her and scrambling around looking for her shoes. Gabby is all, "How could you do this to me?" She insists that she never would have sexed him if she'd known he was betrothed (which I don't believe, no not at all). He bleats that she seemed to have no problem shirking her own marriage vows back when they were first sleeping together, blah blah blah! Gabby spells out the difference: her "cheating was up-front and honest." Which seems like a slippery distinction, but okay. John, however, does not have time for this debate. Gabby, all willful and ornery, declares that she'd like to hang around and "meet the blushing bride," but John levels with her: the name of his betrothed is "Tammy Sinclair," as in the daughter of the man who owns the hotel chain John services. In more ways that one. And thus the meteoric rise in the success of John's landscaping company. Gabby, who wasn't swayed by his ethical stance, for some reason is moved by his financial reasoning ["I'd say the reason is pretty obvious -- it's Gabrielle" -- Wing Chun]; she races off to hide as a knock sounds on the door.
John lets Tammy in, and the blonde, blonde Paris Hilton clone screams, "Poodle!" and jumps into his arms. "Ugh," she says once she gets a look at the digs, "this room blows. Daddy was supposed to hook us up with a suite!" Then they launch into the typical "infidelity cat and mouse" routine, where he tries to get her to go down to the bar with him, but she wants to see how big the closets are in this room; he jumps to try to stop her, but there's no one inside! Then Tammy leaps onto the bed and tells John how "horny" she is (classy!), and for a second it looks as though there's going to be a "Trapped In The Closet" situation, here, but then John notices his bag sitting there, and realizes just where it is that Gabby's hiding. He gives Tammy some weird excuse about having to bring his luggage down to the lobby to get a jammed zipper fixed...
...and he's just made it onto the elevator with the bag when Tammy bursts out of their room, holding up a "diamond watch" with lots of questions in her doe eyes. John thinks fast and tells her "that's what [she] gets for surprising [him]": he didn't have time for wrapping paper! She hook, line, and sinkers into the lie, and squeals that she's "never taking [the watch] off!" Gabby, from inside the luggage: "Son of a bitch!" John kicks the bag into silence, and then leaps out of the elevator and into Tammy's arms. The elevator doors close behind him.
Alone in the elevator, Gabby whispers, "John? John?" A couple gets on at the floor, eyeing the bag with puzzlement. Gabby pokes her finger out between two zippers and births her way out of the bag. The couple stares and stares. Gabby, patting her hair into place: "Don't laugh, I saved a bundle on airfare." Eva Longoria is really, really teeny. In fact, I think that the bag Gabby just erupted out of was carry-on-sized. Though I'm pretty sure that "ethically wishy-washy former models" are on the list of items you're no longer allowed to bring on board an airplane, so she'd probably have to be checked.
Loose Slots Susan is still at the cabin. She's lying in bed, when she hears Ian tickling the ivories downstairs. The song, I believe, is "After Hours" by the Velvet Underground? But somehow that sounds wrong. Anyway, Susan walks downstairs, all wrapped up in a blanket, and sits down to Ian. He starts to apologize for their fight(s), but Susan shushes him with her shushing shush-hole. Now she's getting the hang of it; some men are only tolerable if you seal their mouths closed with a kiss. The scene suggestively fades to black.
Casa Parental Failure. Bree is repotting a flower and nursing her sadness over the whole Andrew thing. Orson comes out and compliments her work. She coughs her voice into life (I'd say she's been crying), and says, "It's nice to know I can raise some things correctly." She bitterly states that Andrew's never coming home, and Orson soothes that she's being way "too hard on [herself]." Bree, snappily: "And you're not being hard enough! Stop saying what I did was understandable. I'm a mother who abandoned her child. It's not natural." Orson urges her to relax and come inside. Bree: "There's a bottle of chardonnay in the refrigerator, and right now this little chore is the only thing that's keeping me from going inside and drinking the whole damn thing." Plus points for not completely ignoring the whole alcoholic storyline, but minus points for there being chardonnay in the house at all. Orson kisses Bree's head and goes back inside. Bree bursts into tears, and Orson watches her sympathetically from inside. For the first time, I'm beginning to see a faint glimmer of what Bree sees in Orson. Though his concern for Bree doesn't quite outweigh his putting Mike into a coma. And I'm pretty sure attempted murder is a red flag, even on Wisteria Lane. Then again, Bree does have history of covering up for hit-and-runners.
Gabby's having breakfast at the hotel when John comes up and apologizes for leaving her in an elevator, zipped inside a piece of luggage. What, there isn't a Hallmark card for just this occasion? He returns her watch; he's going to buy Tammy a new one. Gabby: "Don't you mean her daddy will buy her a new one and just launder the money through you?" Look, Gabby, he's sorry. It wasn't his plan to sex her, it's just that he saw her "in the moonlight" and he was overcome. She melts a little and asks John to sit down, telling him, "You're pretty hard to stay mad at." He's relieved to hear it, because he "didn't want this to end badly." Gabby puts her hand on John's knee and says, "Who says it has to end?" Oh, Gabby. John re-explains the part about how he's getting married, and Gabby is all question marks. John: "I love Tammy, and I don't want to screw it up. Because enough of those screw-ups, and you just end up alone." Gabby, sadly and bitterly: "Yeah, that can happen." John kisses her tenderly on the cheek, and that's it. Goodbye to John the Gardener. Again.
Back at Hooker HQ, a man walks up the litter-strewn streets and passes Andrew sitting in the same lounging chair we saw him in back in the newscast. Andrew hits the man up for a few dollars, and the man hands him fifty dollars. Andrew's eyes light up. The POV changes, and we see that it's Orson who's handing out the bills. And suddenly I'm I'll creeped out by Orson all over again. What's his plan? Is he going to kill Andrew? Have sex with him? Ask him to join his "Hit and Run Club"? The terrible possibilities are endless. Orson offers Andrew another fifty...IF Andrew will have lunch with him. Oh right, lunch. That's also a possibility. But maybe it's a very creepy lunch. Something on the bone, with lots of gristle. And cottage cheese -- lumpy, liposuction-y cottage cheese!
In a diner, Andrew orders "fries and a large root beer." Hmm, homeless Andrew must not be that hungry. Homeless Zana ordered tons and tons of food when Susan took him out to lunch! Orson hands over the second fifty, and Andrew cynically asks what he's expected to do for the money. Exactly! But Orson just wants to talk. Andrew is confused. I am confused. Is Orson with the press? The church? Orson: "No, I just want to understand you, Andrew." Andrew starts at the mention of his name, and then tumbles to the truth: "You're him, aren't you. The new husband?" Based on how long that took, I'm guessing Orson and Bree's wedding announcement didn't include a photo. Andrew gets all snippy, super-sarcastically referring to Orson as "Dad." Orson wants to know what Andrew does for money. Andrew is suspicious. I'm suspicious. Andrew: "You mean have I done stuff for money that I'm not proud of? Yeah, sure, but you figured that out as soon as I asked what that fifty was for." Andrew tells Orson not to tell Bree, but then he catches himself: what does he care? Tell Bree, don't tell Bree; Andrew's fine either way. DAD. Then Orson gets all insightful, saying that he thinks Andrew wants Orson to tell Bree what he's been doing because he know it would wound her. In fact, Orson thinks the whole reason Andrew is out on the streets at all is to hurt Bree: "When will you have punished her enough, Andrew? When you turn to drugs to numb the pain, or catch a disease you'll never be rid of?" Andrew is all, "What do you care?" And Orson is all, "I care because the woman I love cares!" Plus, according to Orson, he and Andrew are twinsies: "I know about rage. And how it eats you up, but rage goes away, and when it does, you're just left with the mess you made." Andrew looks a little spooked, and he takes his lunch and leaves.
Lynette is driving home from the campsite with Tom. The kids are all lined up in the back seat. Where's Snora? Hmm. Oh well, I guess she just...hoofed it? Or maybe she's tucked away in some luggage on the roof rack, Gabby-style. Lynette, clearly tenderized by Snora's acid words about how Tom is scared of her, shows concern over Tom's back pain. Then she points out how stressful his life's been lately, with the new surprise child and the "job hunting." Tom groans: "Uch. Are we going to fight about that again? Because if so, I'm going to need those last four muscle relaxants." To the contrary: Lynette actually thinks that perhaps Tom needs to "cast a wider net." Tom: "I'd like to play bass for Aerosmith." Lynette: "Okay, let's call that the backup plan." But really, doesn't Tom have some secret desires, dreams, wants? Tom nods, agreeing that "maybe" he does, but that it's all gotten so confusing, so cloudy what with all the kids and so on. Lynette: "Whatever you want to do, I'm in your corner." Tom tells her how lucky he is to be with her, and she smiles hugely. Uh oh. This can't end well. Tom's totally going declare that he wants to be, like, a magician or a barista, and Lynette is going to have to support him, because she promised she would! Though when has she ever stuck to what she's said she'd do in the past? Lynette being Lynette, she'll find a way to weasel her way out of it somehow.
Comaragaritaville. Edie is there to steal back her CD player. She grabs a chocolate out of a box sitting by Mike's bed. Who gives coma patients chocolates? Or is that some kind of rousing aromatherapy they're using now? Edie slips the stereo into an empty leopard-print bag she brought along just for this purpose -- smart! -- and then turns to leave. "I hope you feel better soon," she tells Mike, her mouth stuffed with chocolate. Ha! Just as she clears the door, she turns back, a smutty light bulb going off in her smutty mind. Edie comes back to the bed and, after pausing to lick the chocolate off her fingers (triple ha!), she lifts up his bed sheets for a peek at his twig and berries. "Damn!" she says. "And that's with the coma!" Mike, it seems, has a huge penis. Edie sighs, and then grabs the entire box of chocolates and heads out to leave. But again, she turns back. And her eyes, they bug out of her head.
And roll out the MAVO! This week's parting theme? Baggage. And how great it is "if we can travel with someone who can help lighten the load." We see Tom straining to lift his bags out of the car, and then straightening up in pain. Lynette circles back and lifts his bags for him.
Andrew walks up to the Van de Kamp manse. After a moment's hesitation, he knocks. MAVO observes that sometimes "it's easier to just drop what we've been carrying." Bree opens the door. Surprise!
Gabby's home from her spa and luggage ride, and she is saddened by the emptiness of her empty house. MAVO, with unaccustomed literalness: "Assuming, of course, there will be someone there to greet us when we arrive."
Susan lies awake, post-coitally tangled up in Ian's arms, and looks wistful. Because she's sad about what she's just done to Mike? Because she's disappointed with the sexing of an almost-virgin? MAVO: "Why do we clutch at the this baggage, even when we're desperate to move on?"
Edie leans in for a closer look at Mike. MAVO: "Because we all know that there's a chance we might let go too soon." The camera pans over to Mike. And his eyes, they are OPEN!
Up : Edie tells Mike that Susan's been treating him like "dirt"!