By Couch Baron
First and foremost, the hugest of props to Shauna29 for hooking me up with the first two episodes, including the original, 70-minute version of the pilot, after my mailman lost another package going to my home address. Boooo, Royal Mail. , I'd like to thank AB Chao for having such a hellaciously busy summer that she didn't have the chance to recap the first eight episodes of Everwood. You didn't have to move and find a new job just for me, AB! But I'm glad you did, because it means that I get to recap a third show that I really enjoy. And last, both in gratitude and in recognition of the fact that despite the fact that I'm a foot taller than she is, AB could kick my ass with one hand while making a margarita with the other, I'm going to state that Ephram is AB's jailbait boyfriend and no one else's, and any comments I may make about how cute he is will be solely for the purpose of diligent description. Plus, I like Bright just as much, and he's way gayer than Ephram. Now if I can only do something about his hair. Not only is it out of control, but it's also very reminiscent of Heath Ledger, and that can't be good for his career. On that note, on with the recap.
Ah, teen angst. We meet again.
We float over Central Park. If I remember my Everwood trivia correctly, the pilot here was filmed in Canada (before being filmed in Utah ever since), but I think this stock footage actually is Central Park, moving toward the East Side. I hope I'm right, or Sars is going to give me hell. Irv starts in with the monologue that he'll expand on in the season finale: "I wasn't there the day Dr. Andrew Brown's life changed forever. But like most folks in Everwood, I've heard the story enough times to be able to tell it. It begins where many stories begin; in the city of New York, where Dr. Brown lived comfortably with his wife and two children." Fade up on a sweet-looking brownstone, and, AB-style, I'll tell you this for free: If this is Irv's idea of "comfortable" living in New York City, I'd gladly settle for "cramped." Your house in Everwood would buy a utility closet in the Big Apple, Irv. Utilities not included. Sue Ellen Mishkie (sorry, but as is typical of Seinfeld, that's just the best name ever, so deal with it), sporting a smart dark bob and sipping coffee (or at least hopefully not yerba mate), calls to Ephram that he's going to be late. Ephram, wearing his typical short-sleeved t-shirt over long-sleeved t-shirt, "I know, I know"s her, and a wide shot allows me to stare in abject jealousy at their kitchen/breakfast area. I'm really glad this show is leaving New York quite soon, because it was bad enough watching Felicity enjoy dorm rooms that, unlike every actual dorm room in the city, didn't stretch the definition of the word "room" beyond all recognition. If I had to watch the Browns living in the Taj Mahal on top of that, I don't think I'd be able to cope.
Anyway, Delia and her ever-present baseball cap eat breakfast quietly. Treat says good morning to Ephram, who ignores him as he grabs his lunch. Treat is beardless, by the way. So, Treat has no beard, Sue Ellen is alive, and Ephram is being a dick to Treat. Well, two of those things will change within the five minutes. Treat notes that Ephram is unusually quiet, and Ephram snarks back that Treat is unusually interested. Before I can process what an unbelievable ass-kicking I would have gotten had I ever said something like that to my father, Sue Ellen tells Ephram not to be nervous about his recital, and that she and Treat will both be there. Ephram pointedly gives an "I'm sure" that's meant for Treat, and leaves. When he's gone, Treat's all, his recital's tonight? Treat, I don't completely condone Ephram's bitchery toward you, but comments like that make it tough to take your side. Better to keep silent and be thought a bad father than open your mouth and remove all doubt. Or something. Sue Ellen gives him a look of death. I guess Treat's beardless face has reflective powers. She tells Treat that the recital's at eight, and that Ephram's going early with "a friend" (presumably Gwen Stefani), while she and Treat will leave at seven to make it out to New Jersey on time. I'll point out that she doesn't mention Delia going with them, so presumably she's staying home with a babysitter. I hope he or she wasn't as irritating as Madison. Treat bitches about Ephram studying piano in Jersey. Sue Ellen patiently explains that the best teacher is in Jersey, and Treat snarks that he didn't think Jersey had the best anything. Oh, dear, now Treat's alienating Sars. This is not a good opening minute for you, Treat. My advice? Grow the beard, stat. ["Seriously. Girls in Jersey have the best right hooks, Treat. Shut it." -- Sars] Delia sticks up for New Jersey, pointing out that the Giants play there, and Treat gets technical that the Giants were originally from New York, and blah blah blah shut-up-Treat-cakes. I will, however, throw Treat a bone and say that he looks nice in the suit he's wearing, although I frankly can't even process the fact that he hasn't got a beard. It's like if Bright showed up with a shaved head one day. I'd be willing to give that one a chance, though. Treat leaves as Sue Ellen tells him to be home on time. Oh, the twists and turns that follow from the everyday decisions we make. Sigh.
Treat, in his office, points to an x-ray and describes a condition to which he refers as "the Great White of brain tumors." I wouldn't have pegged Treat to be into cheesy metal hair bands, but to each his own. He says the tumor is malignant and grows quickly, and we see that the recipients of this little speech are an older man, who looks like he might beat Sue Ellen to the pearly gates, and a middle-aged-looking woman. Treat exposits that the tumor is present in both hemispheres of the man's brain, and has even spread into the spinal fluid. The woman somewhat impatiently says that other doctors reached the same conclusion weeks ago. Yes, but we, the audience, weren't there for that, so now that you've earned speaking fees for the episode, pipe down, Cancer Wife. Cancer Husband says that the other doctors said his condition is inoperable, but Treat says he'll go after the cancer with everything he's got. Cancer Husband thanks him, but Treat smugly says he can thank him when he saves his life. Treat, you seem to have a condition in both your hemispheres as well. It's inhibiting your "not being a pompous ass" brain functions. Patch Abbott suffers from the same ailment, but fortunately for him, he's about a hundred times funnier than you. Treat walks out, like, nice to show your dying patient to the door, and Cancer Wife snarks, "I hope he's as good as he is brief." My first thought was that those two traits are mutually exclusive, but it's possible we were thinking of different contexts.
Establishing shots of a thunderstorm, as Irv tells us there was a thunderstorm. Irv, I realize you're back in Everwood, but we're with the Browns in New York right now, so the weather report is unnecessary, thanks. I should say, though, that generally, I'm going to cut Irv a lot of slack, because however intrusive his voice-overs may be at times, they will never be nearly as annoying as the monologues of Augustus Hill, so I'm plenty thankful for that. Treat sits in the dark and talks on the phone. A large nurse interrupts to remind him that he asked her to tell him when it was seven o'clock. Treat is surprised that it's seven already, and the nurse snarks that it was seven a half hour ago when she reminded him the first time. I know we're meant to learn how focused Treat is on his work here, but frankly, I'm not entirely sure I'd want a man who can't even remember a conversation he had a half-hour before performing the most delicate of brain surgery on me. Treat says to tell Sue Ellen to go to the recital and he'll meet her there (and it seems like that condition I mentioned has caused the words "please" and "thank you" to disappear from his vocabulary), but the nurse informs him that she's already left, and that she asked the nurse to inform him that he's a lousy husband and father. It's of course very sad that that's the last sentiment she ever directed his way, but we don't have time to dwell on that, because Treat continues to jabber away as the clock behind him fades from 7:30 to 9:15. Boy, that's really sucky of Treat. And assuming, as seems logical, that Ephram didn't get the news about his mom until later, he must have been so worried when neither of his parents showed up for the recital. It certainly justifies all the bitchery he was throwing Treat's way earlier. Nice preemptive strike, Ephram. Treat's getting his coat on, probably cluelessly thinking he can still make it to the recital, when Irv voices over that Treat was still at the hospital when he got the news. Treat passes two cops at the front desk and overhears them asking for him. He pipes up that he's Andy Brown, and one cop tells us all we need to know as he doffs his hat. Nice touch. The camera pulls back as Irv catches up the short-bus riders by telling us that Sue Ellen lost her life in a car accident on an icy highway on the way to the recital. Treat walks away aimlessly, dropping his briefcase in the process as lightning again strikes outside. Sniff.
Burial. It's a highly picturesque affair, with everyone wearing haute couture black ensembles in the snow-filled cemetery. I guess the driving rain from the thunderstorm turned to snow at some point. Ephram, adorably wearing a yarmulke, wipes his eyes as Treat throws a ceremonial shovelful of dirt on the grave. After pausing for a few moments, he leads Delia away. Ephram lingers a bit longer, wiping his eyes again and looking horribly distraught, before turning to go as well. Over a montage of shots of Ephram in his room, Irv tells us that the Browns tried to pretend everything was the same, when they knew it wasn't. At first I thought that statement made no sense whatsoever, but given Treat's "conversations with dead person" over the two episodes, maybe it's not entirely nonsensical. Oh, and way to make us cry in the first ten minutes, Berlanti. Everwood: You'll Cry More At 9 PM Than Most People Do All Day.
Treat, in the hospital. Irv tells us that as expected, Treat went back to work immediately, but what happened then wasn't expected. Treat walks in to see Cancer Husband and exposits that the surgery is the day. Cancer Husband sincerely tells Treat that he was sorry to hear about Sue Ellen. Treat gives that some thought, and then asks Cancer Husband where he would be at that moment if he could be anywhere in the world. Without hesitation, Cancer Husband says Hershey, Pennsylvania, home of The Great American Chocolate Bar. Well, he doesn't say that last part, and I'm sure I've never seen product placement in a pilot before, but it does seem a little suspicious. Call it recapper paranoia. Or the recapper desperately trying to distract himself in order not to cry again. Cancer Husband says he grew up in Hershey, and he still owns his parents' farm there. Treat tells him to go there, today. "I can't save your life. At best I can prolong it eight months, maybe a year. Most of that time you'll be barely coherent, recovering from surgery. And that's all so that this hospital can brag about its statistics with terminal illnesses. But statistics don't measure quality of life. And if you have even the slightest hope of preserving your own, you'll get up out of that bed and leave this place as fast as your legs will carry you." Dude, he's got a terminal illness. Can't he at least get a wheelchair? Jokes aside, though, that's a great speech, and one that's good to keep in mind in the context of the whole Colin ordeal. Cancer Husband smiles, looking like Treat's speech is just what he wanted to hear, and Treat returns the smile big. Irv tells us that those were Treat's last words as a big-city doctor. Aw. I may have to buy that word in bulk if I want to keep recapping this show. That, and "sniff."
Cut to Ephram and his purple hair screeching his classic quote: "Moving where?" Treat, facing his two kids, happily tells them, "Everwood, Colorado." Delia asks where that is, and Ephram snarks, "Colorado, moron." Oh, Ephram. No. You may be hot, but you do not talk to your little sister that way. Treat should be smacking the purple right off you. Ephram, trying desperately not to panic, asks Treat why they're moving there. Treat dreamily tells him that someone told him about it once, saying it was the most beautiful place "they'd" ever seen. I'll forgive Treat the lazy grammar, because I know he's trying to keep secret the identity of the person in question. Treat goes on that he was thinking they should move there, and asks what they say. Ephram says that that's not even a reason. Treat: "I know! How great is that? We'd be moving someplace for no reason at all!" Hee. I feel for Ephram here, but I'm really enjoying Treat's over-the-top goofiness. It's such a change from the first five minutes. Ephram likens Treat to Harrison Ford in The Mosquito Coast, a reference which, while apt enough, I doubt he'd be familiar with. He wouldn't even have been born when that movie came out, and it's not like it was a classic. Treat sages that doing this might be the sanest thing he's ever done, but he wants it to be a democratic decision, so he'll put it to a vote. "Everyone who wants to move" -- beat -- "and get their own horse, raise your hand." HA HA HA! That is one of the most genuine laughs I have ever gotten from a television show. Needless to say, Treat and Delia raise their hands high, as Ephram looks around in impotent horror. Oh, Ephram, I love you, but you have been beaten. Raise your hand, take the horse, and sell it on. No: he splutters that that wasn't democracy, as Treat bought Delia's vote. Treat: "Yeah, that's the American version." Hee. He leaves, and Ephram tells Delia to remember this day, as she's just ruined both their lives. He bails as well. What Delia heard: "Horsey horsey horsey horsey HORSEY!"
As the Browns pack up, Irv tells us that Treat's departure caused a big stir among the AMA crowd, and that no less a publication than Time called Treat's departure "one of the great losses of modern medicine." I wish I could have seen Patch's face when he read that article. Treat stares around at his brownstone for a while, then carries the last box out. I don't even want to know how much he sold that place for. Irv tells us that some people thought Time was exaggerating, but they didn't know Dr. Brown. All he needs to do is grow the beard, and then he will truly be the Messiah.
I'm on page five, and I've only just finished the teaser. Recapping pilot episodes is a bitch. I love this show too much to care, though.
We get the Everwood graphic over the snowy mountain, but instead of the normal theme music, Cat Stevens's "Miles From Nowhere" plays. As is not atypical for pilots, we get no shots of the cast. Irv tells us that Everwood's population is just over nine thousand. I know this is supposed to be a tiny town, but that seems a bit low to me. I don't really care, though. (Don't email me!) Irv cheeses a line over a montage of the quaint little town, and then we cut to Treat burning himself as he tries to cook breakfast. Note to Treat: If you're going to grow the beard, wear all flannel, and generally resemble a certain Monty Python's Flying Circus sketch, you're going to have to learn to cook a lumberjack breakfast without burning it and yourself. It just goes with the territory. Delia walks in, one hand over the logo on her baseball cap, and tells Treat to guess which it is. Treat picks the Rangers, but it's actually the Rockies. Oh, Delia -- I know the Rangers aren't what they used to be, to put it mildly, but don't be a fair-weather fan. Treat and Delia banter about breakfast and vitamin C, and I'd like to transcribe it in more detail, but I'd like more to be done with this recap before Delia enters college. The bus honks, and Delia asks where her lunch is. Treat looks lost, and then gives Delia money. Delia: "I don't think they'll change a fifty." Well, maybe Delia was right to give up the Rangers after all -- she's not a real New Yorker at heart. Ephram would have snagged the fifty and flipped Treat off in the same motion. Treat gives Delia some singles, and starts to walk her out, but she turns around, stopping him in his tracks. Treat: "I forgot. You want to do this alone." Delia: "It's a big step for me." Hee. And aw. See what I'm talking about? They hug, and wow, Treat's got a winning smile. We're not going to see much of it in the scenes with Ephram, so I thought I'd mention it here.
Delia gets on the bus. Irv exclaims, "Rosemary Clooney, my my my." Delia corrects him that it's "Delia Brown." Hee. Irv explains that Rosemary Clooney is singing on the radio, and that he takes note of what song is playing when he meets someone new, as it tells him something about the person. Irv, the song that's playing on my radio is "The Bus Driver Who Tried A Little Too Hard." Just thought you'd want to know. Delia asks what Rosemary Clooney tells him about her, and Irv says it tells him that they're going to get along just fine. Delia smiles big. It runs it the family. I'd make a joke about Ephram being the exception that proves the rule here, but really, he can smile big too. Be patient -- it's worth it.
Ephram bolts down the stairs, and Treat offers to drive him to school. Ephram: "I appreciate the offer, but it's about ten years too late." I don't think Ephram actually appreciates the offer. Call me crazy. Treat looks sad. Ephram bikes away. Treat looks off the left side of his porch, and sees Sam inside a small makeshift greenhouse, or something. He's digging up a plot point. He's got tools and everything! Treat says that he's not a plant. Don't rush to judgment, Treat. Sam declares that he's a boy, and a rather pregnant Nina walks in from off screen to note that Treat's met her "resident horticulturalist." Insert your own joke about flowers and Shutup Carl here. Nina shoos her son inside, as when the gay husband's away...well, you get the idea. She introduces herself, and says she's his neighbor. Treat: "Well, that's a weird coincidence, 'cause I'm your neighbor!" Treat, I know you've been off the dating scene a long time. I'm starting to think that that was a good thing. Nina lets us know that she knows who Treat is, and then excuses herself to take Sam to day care. Nicely done, Nina -- always leave 'em wanting more. Take a memo, Treat.
School. Ephram parks his bike and then walks by a couple of meatheads, one of whom calls him "freak" and, referring to his hair, asks if they ran out of green at the store. Meathead Number Two jerks that his friend asked him a question, and Ephram snarks back that he doesn't speak dumb-ass. While that's not the greatest line, it's apparently enough to fuse whatever synaptic pathways the meatheads have. They look like the Itchy & Scratchy robots in the face of flash photography. Ephram walks away, and we see Amy looking after him all, "Who is that purple-haired boy with the razor-sharp wit and the perky ass?" Well, Ephram, I guess that line was pretty good after all. Amy hops down from her perch atop some wall and follows him. Inside, she calls after him and tells him he was "bold" out there. I feel obligated to note that she's wearing a color combination of lilac and powder blue, and while either of those hues would look lovely on her separately, they don't work together at all. Of course, she's still a far cry from Season Four Willow, so I'll count my blessings. Ephram counters that he attacks bullies with sarcasm, thus making them wonder whether he has "some secret butt-kicking prowess they're unable to detect." Such a geek. So cute. All he needs is a few nanites, and he could be Ephram 2.0. This model will do just fine, though. Amy notes that he has the whole thing thought out, and Ephram says he's had time to do so, what with all the occasions he's found himself inside a gym locker. Amy lets on that she knows Ephram is from New York and that Treat is his father. Ephram: "Yeah, if you use the term 'father' loosely." Oh, Ephram. At least keep it in the family. You'd make a lousy Soprano. Amy exposits that ever since the Time article, everyone in Everwood has been talking about Treat. Probably with numerous expletives, in the case of her dad. Ephram asks what they're saying, but Amy thinks that they're just wondering why he moved there. Ephram: "They figure it out, let me know." Amy's amused that he doesn't know why they came, and adds that she thinks it's cool, as her dad's the most boring man alive. Since it affords me the opportunity to disagree with Amy, this seems as good a time as any to tell you another opinion I have about this show: As hot as Ephram is, as cluelessly adorable as Bright is, as spunky as Edna is, and as Treat-like as Treat is, this show wouldn't be half as good as it is without Patch Abbott, so let's give it up for Tom Amandes. Anyway, the bell rings, and Amy tells Ephram they should eat lunch sometime before turning to go. He calls after her and asks her name. She tells him, and brightly adds, "And I like your hair." And that SMACK! you hear is Ephram being smitten.
Hey, it's Mrs. Baxworth, the annoying real estate agent! She chatters about some office space as Treat notices that everyone is staring at them. They're just talking about the beard, Treat. Mrs. Baxworth corrects him that they're staring at him, and reiterates what Amy told Ephram, even calling him a celebrity. I can't think of the word "celebrity" without thinking of both Jeopardy and Hollywood Squares. Although Treat would probably do better on the former, I'd prefer to see him on the latter. How cool would it be to say, "I'll take Treat to block!"? Boy, in a recap this long, I should really avoid tangents such as that one. All right. She asks what kind of practice he's going to set up, and he replies that he's just going to be a G.P. From the awkward pause that follows, you'd think that Treat just announced that he's going to be practicing faith healing. Well, even if he were, I bet she'd change her tune if she found out it was free. Mrs. Baxworth finally manages to tell Treat that Everwood already has a family doctor, but Treat's sure that they could use another one. Mrs. Baxworth fakely trills, "Of course we can!" Dogs beg Mrs. Baxworth for mercy. None is forthcoming. Treat and Mrs. Baxworth move out of the foreground, and behind where they were standing, Patch (woo!) appears, looking very dapper in a cashmere scarf and overcoat over a suit and tie, as a "Mr. Greeley" calls to him, asking how he is. Patch, with his typical strained politeness, says he's fine, and Mr. Greeley counters, "That makes one of us!" Including the recapper. Sorry, but this guy bugs the hell out of me. Patch is with me as he asks Greeley what's wrong, and hears that the problem is leg pain. Patch asks how long he's had it. Greeley: "About three years." Patch, could you look at my forehead ? It started hurting just now, after I BEAT IT AGAINST THE WALL. Get this guy out of here, now. Patch tries his best, saying that as he's explained before, there are insurance regulations on treating patients without a proper check-up, so Greeley will just have to wait until he has an opening. Greeley tries to protest that it's just a little pain. Patch: "A little pain can become a big lawsuit." Hee. He gives a "hypothetical" diagnosis in which he manages to prescribe aspirin, make an appointment for Greeley, and wish death to his face, and goes on in to his office. Patch is my god.
Mrs. Baxworth shows Treat some office space, but he negs her, saying that it's exactly the type of office he's trying to get away from. Actually, it looks nothing like the office we saw in New York, but that hardly matters. Mrs. Baxworth tries to sell him on the office's DSL capabilities. Treat, listen to the woman. You don't want to have to wait to load TWoP on dial-up to read how cute everyone thinks you are, do you? Of course, you might be just as happy to skip the things people are saying about your son, so it's really up to you. Treat suddenly smells perfume, and Mrs. Baxworth thinks it's hers, but Treat says it's coming from the street. I hope it's not imaginary perfume, but I think I'm getting ahead of myself. Treat, almost getting himself and Mrs. Baxworth killed as he crosses the street in front of a slew of cars, explains to her that he smells some snooty French perfume that his wife used to wear. Mrs. Baxworth: "You mean...you smell your...deceased wife?" Hee hee. Perfect delivery there. Treat pauses in front of an abandoned building and asks what it is. Mrs. Baxworth calls it a monstrosity, and explains that it's the old train station, which hasn't been used since the train company rerouted its approach through the mountains for safety reasons ten years earlier. She adds that Everwood has ceased being a destination. Treat: "Not to everybody." Well, if there's no train, how do they get all the cheese in from Smallville? Not that I'm complaining. They take all the good stuff from Smallville. Anyway, Treat rips a couple boards off the front entrance, over Mrs. Baxworth's concerned clucking, and enters. Mrs. Baxworth warns him against wild animals and hobos. Hee. "Hobos." Treat asks if Mrs. Baxworth sees what he sees. Mrs. Baxworth: "Multiple opportunities for staph infection?" I'm with Mrs. Baxworth on this one, but of course I'm not there to smell the perfume. Ooh, wouldn't it be funny if Rinda wore the same scent? Catfight! Treat corrects her that it's his new office as overly dramatic music swells. Mrs. Baxworth has taken up residence at Itchy & Scratchy Land.
School. Ephram geeks it up to Amy about manga, and as much as I love Ephram, I couldn't care less about manga, so I can skip a lot of this. Thank God. Any looks like she's trying to look interested. Ephram nervously finishes his spiel, and Amy breathily says that she never knew comics could be so hot. Watching it with the benefit of hindsight, and also given what happens in less than two seconds, this is obviously a dream sequence, but for that one moment when this first aired, I bet a small "Eeeee!" escaped thousands of lips. Anyway, Al Green's "Let's Stay Together," a song that's so good that it's tough to overplay, kicks up as Amy asks if Ephram's ever had a perfect makeout song. Ephram stammers that he's had several. He lies, but he's cute. Amy gets up and starts to sway, and beckons Ephram to join her. As he gets up, the lights go dark, and that's good timing for him. Because the tent? She has been pitched. Amy tells Ephram that her perfect makeout song is the one that's playing, as it speaks to a girl's "dual desires to be held and ravaged simultaneously. Not in the literal sense; it's more primal." That may be a crock of shit, especially coming from a fifteen-year-old, but it's certainly getting the job done as far as Ephram is concerned. Amy continues that the song makes her want to take off all her clothes. Some shows would have been playing Nelly here. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. After a bit more of this, they move in for the kiss. They lock lips, and the action goes still for a moment. Then we hear an alarm clock going off. Psych! Ephram wakes up with a start, and after a second looks disconcerted. He peers under the sheets, and seethes, "Dammit." Hee. Of course, they didn't show the rest of the dream, in which Amy morphed into...er, AB Chao. (Note to self: Nice save!) He pulls up the sheets, which fly in front of the camera, and when they come back down, Ephram's putting them into the washing machine. Treat appears and asks what he's doing. Ephram snarks at him, and then stammers that he spilled chocolate milk on his sheets. I'm puzzled as to why he threw in the "chocolate" part, but it probably doesn't bear too much analysis. Anyway, Ephram leaves, but not without telling Treat to go to hell. Treat looks puzzled. Way to be aware of your teenage boy's bodily functions, Doctor Brown.
"Mack The Knife" plays as a car door opens and someone wearing saddle shoes and old-man wool golf pants gets out. I'll give odds that it's Patch! Anyone? Anyone? You guys are no fun. Yes, it's Patch, carrying a golf club and looking bemused. He walks over to Treat, who's on a ladder, painting the exterior of the train station. Patch calls to him several times, eventually tapping him with the golf club to get his attention. How handy -- I should start carrying one of those. I can think of a lot of ways I could use it in pedestrian traffic, I'll tell you that much. My biggest pet peeve in life is people who can't negotiate a sidewalk. How these people get driver's licenses is beyond me. Oh, great, another tangent. Recap. Patch informs Treat that he parked in Patch's spot. Treat apologizes, but says he didn't see a name on the curb. Patch says sardonically that it's implied, as it's in front of his office. Treat excitedly says that Patch is the "other doctor," and introduces himself. Patch gets this absolutely awesome smile on his face as he shakes Treat's hand, like, "Can you believe this shit? He called me the other doctor. Does the Hippocratic Oath prevent me from clocking him with my Titleist?" Patch says that he knows who Treat is, and that he's not the "other doctor," but Everwood's primary physician. Treat, still smiling big, notes that it's cold for golf, but Patch says that he belongs to an indoor range. In the town of 9,000 people. Treat correctly identifies the brand of Patch's club, and asks if he can see it. Patch says to be careful, as Tiger Woods used it in the '99 British Open. "I purchased it on eBay." Hee. And I bet Patch doesn't have dial-up, either. Treat: "No kidding. I'll have to tell him." Patch asks if he knows Tiger Woods, and Treat says he operated on his uncle. Patch is going to have a serious talk later with the voice in his head screaming, "He knows Tiger? That is so cool!"
Treat goes on that he doesn't want to step on Patch's turf. Patch: "My turf? That's rich!" Hee. He explains that no one will come to Treat's practice, and Patch will continue to get all of Everwood's patients. Treat asks how he figures, and he's still smiling big, but his voice has a small, but distinct, edge to it. You might want to take note, Ephram: Your dad has a boiling point. It may be higher than that of water, but it exists. Patch obliviously goes on that he's been Everwood's doctor for fifteen years, and his father held the position before he did. Treat: "Was it your father's father before him? Because that would be really cool." Berlanti, let me whisper in your ear: A snarky Treat is a good Treat. Patch advises Treat not to waste his time, but Treat, back to genial mode, says he came a long way to open the office, and he won't be stopped. Patch wishes him good luck on the painting. Treat calls after him that it was nice to meet him. Patch: "Nutbag." Hee! Patch could be the best character on any show, ever.
Amy and Ephram walk on a snowy path, and Amy tells him that he's going to love wherever it is they're going. They reach their destination, which is a spot overlooking the whole town. Ephram, put some gloves on, please. I know we New Yorkers like to look tough, but frostbite is no way to impress a girl. Amy points out several locales in the town, among them the churches, prompting Ephram to ask where the synagogue is. Amy asks if he's Jewish, and he answers, "Half. My mom...was." Aw. Amy somewhat sheepishly says she didn't mean for the topic to come up, but Ephram tells her not to sweat it. "Talking about her's pretty unavoidable, you know, what with her giving birth to me and all." So adorable. They sit on a bench, and Amy asks if Treat really worked on a king. Ephram reluctantly confirms that, although he was just a prince at the time. Ephram, you might want to slide down a bit to make room for Amy's friend, Ulterior Motive. He's rather a large fellow. Amy asks what it's like to have a famous dad. Ephram: "It's like this. You're eight years old. He misses your birthday party. You want to cry about it, but he's on TV that night for separating the heads of Siamese twins. You're ten. He's not there to see you in the school play. He is, however, in The New York Times for restoring the vision of a five-year-old kid. You know that prince you mentioned? I think of him as my dad's excuse for missing my elementary school graduation. You know, you want to be mad at him, you want to hate him, but you can't. He's saving lives." Yeah, I think you were worried about the wrong touchy subject to bring up, Amy. Also, Ephram, if you don't hate Treat, you're doing a good job of acting the part. Ephram asks Amy why she's being so nice to him. Amy makes a mental note to buy Ephram a mirror. She asks what he means, and Ephram explains that where he's from, a girl like her would only talk to a guy like him if she had a secret agenda. Amy: "Mine's world domination." With smooth lies like that, Amy, you just might succeed. Ephram presses her, and she admits that he's got a "tragic, lonely thing going on. I dig it." If you're going to go that route, Amy, you have at least to mention the purple hair. Ephram hopefully asks if she listens to Al Green, but she doesn't know who that is. Oh, Amy, you were doing pretty well there. They smile dorkily at each other.
Amy and Ephram return to campus as Bright and some doofus friend of his observe them. Ephram leaves to go to class, and Amy joins Bright. Bright: "Dad's gonna skin your ass when he finds out you're hanging out with that kid." Bright may be dumb, but he knows the score. Amy tells him he's not saying anything to Patch if he values the porn he has stashed on their computer. "What was the file name again? Oh yeah: 'Favorite Biblical passages.'" Hee. Amy 1, Bright 0. Bright's doofus friend says Amy is smooth. Bright just glares at him all, "When did you get an SAG card?"
Treat, credits-style, hangs the sign that says, "Doctor Brown, Family Practice." Delia correctly informs him that it's crooked, but Treat Treats that you just have to lean a little bit for it to look straight. He turns around to see Edna pull up on her motorcycle. As soon as she opened her mouth, I recognized her as Hospital Administrator Sweedler from that episode of Seinfeld where some guy jumped out of a window and landed on George's car. I never forget a whiskey voice. Edna calls Treat "Sparky," tells him he's scrawnier than his picture, introduces herself, gets Delia's name, and asks for a job in the space of about ten seconds. Here's an idea, Treat: Hire her. She gets things done, and she's good TV. She goes on that she's got forty years nursing experience, including two tours in Vietnam, and hands over a copy of her résumé. Treat notes that she worked for Patch, and asks why she left. Edna says that that's personal, but the parting was mutual. And there's Edna's little foray into diplomacy. You might want to note the date and time. Treat, with his signature smile, says he'll take a look and call her later in the week. That's good with Edna, who bids him and "Private" adieu. Treat grins down at Delia like he's already made his decision. Smart move, Treat.
Ephram and Treat are washing the dishes when they hear Delia plinking away on the piano. Ephram rushes in and pulls her away. Delia complains that the piano just sits there and no one touches it. Sounds like my house when I finally convinced my mom to let me stop taking piano lessons after four years of hell. Ah, blissful silence. Treat sends Delia upstairs, and then tells Ephram that she did have a point, and that he's going to have to start playing again sometime. Ephram says he's right, and Treat asks, "I am?" Ephram: "Yes, Father. For it is only through the gift of music that I can truly heal the pain that grows deep within me. Like you ever cared if I played or not." Oh, Treat. You were right to be wary -- teenagers never tell their parents they're right about anything. Ephram leaves the room, and Treat sighs, defeated.
Upstairs, Treat leans down to wash his face. When he pops back up, Sue Ellen is behind him in the mirror. She asks what Treat told some guy about his wife, who apparently was a patient of his. This scene is a little disconcerting, because it's clearly a conversation that happened in the past, yet it's being told in the present. Maybe they just didn't want any more beardless Treat scenes. I know I don't. But if the kids hear him talking to her, as we'll find out they do, it seems strange that he would simply be repeating conversations from the past, rather than talking to the ghost of his wife in the present, but I guess they're doing a "thing" here for the sake of exposition, so I'll go with it. Treat answers that the woman died on his watch, and the husband was left to raise six kids alone. That's certainly more kids than I want to have. About six more. Treat steps on my punchline: "For a single dad, that's six kids too many." Yikes. I hope Ephram and Delia didn't hear that particular comment. After some banter about Treat's Uncle Norman, who will no doubt need brain surgery in Season Three, and who apparently has a "distinguished" beard that we can just file away for the last minute of the episode, Sue Ellen asks if Treat ever thinks about what would happen if she died. Treat thinks that's morbid, but considering he's a brain surgeon, I'll take that as a "yes." Treat babbles his unwillingness to discuss the subject while managing to tell us that he values Sue Ellen more than his sight or hearing, and also that he adores New York. Rather fleet exposition there, writers. Sue Ellen says she hates it when he attempts to say the right thing. "The actual right thing would have been far less cheesy." That's rich, coming from the woman who wants him to promise to move to the fromage capital of Colorado. They embrace, and he starts to lead her in a slow dance. She points out that there's no music, but he demurs. "There's Gershwin, and there's Sinatra, and I think there's even a little Dionne Warwick thrown in, but I can't be sure." Well, nothing against any of those singers, but I have to say that that's not a medley I would trip over myself to hear. Cut to Delia watching through the open door. She sees Treat apparently talking to no one. This family's going to need the group rate on therapy. Maybe they can get the "Scorching Teenage Boy" discount.
Treat and Patch pull in to their parking spots at the same time. Treat says good morning. Patch: "It was." Heh. Treat says Patch looks vaguely familiar to him, and Patch snarks that perhaps he reminds him of one of the inmates at whatever asylum he escaped from. Ah, that Patch -- he'll insult himself just for the sake of insulting someone else. I wonder if he'd like a job at TWoP. I think, though, that that line of Treat's might not be a throwaway. Treat asks if Patch will wish him luck on his first day. Patch: "Oh, it'll take more than luck to launch the U.S.S. Wacko, but what the hey. Good luck." Hee. He leaves. Treat grins that unflappable grin as he tells Patch to have a nice day. Patch: "Whatever." Indeed.
Ephram finds a note in his locker from Amy, telling him to meet her at the ski trail after school. He's psyched. Hope you're done with classes today, Ephram, because your brain's going to be low on blood for a while.
Mrs. Baxworth enters Treat's office with a houseplant big enough to have been grown in Little Shop Of Horrors. She's aghast to find Edna working for Treat, and says that Patch will be hearing about it. Considering their offices are across the street from each other, I think Edna might already be prepared for that eventuality, genius. Treat appears, and the poor dogs howl again as Mrs. Baxworth wishes him well on his first day and marvels at what he's done with the place. Treat notices that she has a stiff neck, and offers to take a look at it. Mrs. Baxworth protests that she has an appointment with Patch, but Treat suavely tells her that examining her would be like "examining [Liz] Taylor all over again," as, apparently, they have similar clavicles. Yeah. Edna smirks to herself as Mrs. Baxworth melts like Velveeta in the microwave, and given Treat's line, it's a particularly apt metaphor, if you follow me. And I'm not sure that Liz Taylor would have worn that leopard-print hat Mrs. Baxworth has on, but I could be wrong about that.
Irv plays with some kids on the slide in the school playground, but then notices Delia looking mopier than Alex P. Keaton when Mallory beat him on the IQ test. That was one of my favorite episodes of Family Ties, by the way. Hey, if Ephram can remember The Mosquito Coast, I can ask you to remember Family Ties. Irv asks what's wrong, and Delia earnestly tells him that she thinks her dad's sick, as she's heard him talking to her mom like she's still there. Poor thing, thinking her dad's gone around the bend. And he hasn't even bought her the horse yet. Irv tells her that what her dad has is a distraught heart. "In most cases, it makes a person feel alive for the first time. Only problem is, there's no remedy for it, anywhere in the world." Delia's not sure what to make of that, but I thought it was a pretty good speech for an eight-year-old audience.
Treat diagnoses Mrs. Baxworth's neck pain as a result of a new mattress, and she happily confirms that she did in fact just buy a new "California King." Man, I want a king-size bed. They're so comfortable, and they can hold two people sleeping in different zip codes. Treat says he'll prescribe her a mild muscle relaxant, and that Edna will give her a neck brace in case the pain gets any worse. Mrs. Baxworth says she'll bring him a check later, as she didn't bring her purse, and I feel obligated to call bullshit on this plot-driven point, because there's no way a woman who slathers on the foundation like Mrs. Baxworth does wouldn't have her cosmetics case with her at all times. Treat says he's not charging her, and she thinks he just means for the neck brace, but he clarifies that all of his medical services are gratis. Mrs. Baxworth disbelievingly asks what he'll do for income. Lady, you're a real estate agent. Check out the listing on his place in New York. Treat duhs that he was a brain surgeon for fifteen years, and thus he needs gainful employment at the moment about as much as he needs shaving cream. Mrs. Baxworth gleefully cackles her way out the door as the dogs breathe a sigh of relief that she's done for this episode. Edna and Treat share a laugh about the fact that by telling Mrs. Baxworth, Treat told "the whole town." I think you've underestimated the woman, kids. People from all over North America are going to be headed to Everwood. Except for the Canadians.
Ephram shows up for his date, and finds Bright waiting for him with two of his goons. The goons make it hard for this to turn into slashfic, but people are creative. Bright belligerently informs Ephram that he left the note, and he wants to talk to him. Ephram says he could have just spoken to him without bothering with "imitating feminine cursive." Bright informs Ephram that that's his real handwriting. Ephram: "Whoops." Hee hee hee. And I didn't mention it before, so as not to give away the twist, but the handwriting on the note looked girly even for Amy. Poor Bright. Anyway, Bright tells Ephram to stay away from Amy, and that she has a boyfriend. Ephram admits that Amy didn't tell him that, but snarks that she didn't mention Bright either, "so we only covered the important stuff." This conversation is hilarious to recap now that these two are best buds. Bright, having no good comeback, grabs Ephram's bag and dumps the contents on the ground. Goon with SAG card picks up what's presumably one of Ephram's mangas and notes that it's very expensive. Bright grins goofily and suggests they "double its value," as he prepares to tear it in half. Amy appears out of nowhere, calls his name, and rushes him, but she's not in time to save the comic. Ephram snarks that Bright's name is "ironic," and I think that word's making a comeback, because I hear more and more people using it correctly these days. It's how you know Alanis Morisette's star has truly faded. Bright challenges Amy to tell Ephram why she's really hanging out with him. Amy tries to tell Ephram she can explain, but Ephram huffs that he's leaving, and snarks to Bright that he won't be going near his sister. He walks away, but Bright can't leave bad enough alone, and asks if Treat's always been such a head case, "or just since your mom bought it." Boy, Bright, I hope you've bought Ephram about a dozen mangas to try to make up for this scene. Even that wouldn't be enough, but it would be a decent start. Ephram tackles Bright, but Bright rolls him over and punches him in the face. In a development that I would not have seen coming if it were marching arm-in-arm with Cher and Madonna at the New York City Pride Parade, Amy in turn hauls off and slugs Bright in the face so hard he hits the deck. She even shakes out her hand afterward. Ni-i-ice. So Amy is likable this episode, and Bright and Ephram are acting like dicks. Well, it's nice to know that even when up is down, Ephram is still hot.
My favorite credits shot is , the one of Bright and Ephram sitting in the principal's waiting room, nursing their matching shiners and looking incredibly pissed off. I hope they can laugh about this now:
Bright: Dude, I kicked your ass.
Ephram: Dude, your sister kicked your ass.
Bright: Dude, my sister could kick your ass too.
Ephram: Yeah, but she'd rather kiss me.
Bright: Who wouldn't?
Bright would be kidding, of course, and they would laugh. Or something. Treat enters and asks Ephram if he's okay. From the new camera angle, we see that Amy is there too. Ephram curtly says he doesn't want to talk about it, and then the door to the principal's office opens and Patch emerges. Upon seeing Treat, he exclaims in disbelief, "You!" I find it hard to believe that Patch wouldn't have found out Ephram's last name at this point, but whatever. Patch says he should have known that one of Treat's "offspring" did this to his son. Given my earlier comment to Treat, it's only fair to say this: Way to notice your daughter's rapidly swelling knuckles, Doctor Abbott. Ephram's aghast that Treat knows Patch, and Bright snarks that Patch is "the real doctor in this town." Two words, Bright: Time. Magazine. Patch snarks that they're leaving before he sets a bad example. Aw, come on, Patch! Steel-cage match! Ephram and Amy exchange a look before she leaves.
And the scene that nobody would ever, ever want to recap. Sars, do I have to? Okay, okay, but if there's no snark this scene, don't say I didn't warn you. Treat pulls up to their house and asks Ephram what he has to say for himself. Ephram: "Give it up." Oy. Treat says he thought Ephram would change in Everwood, and would stop with the "fighting and the acting out." Ephram, voice breaking a little bit, informs Treat that he got the black eye because of him, and calls him a dick. Uh, Ephram, remember what I said about your dad's boiling point? Take the snow melting around him as a hint. Treat threatens Ephram with another black eye if he keeps up the smart mouth. As Treat takes Ephram's bike out of the back of the SUV, Ephram informs Treat that Bright said Treat's crazy, and he thinks he's right. "You quit your job, you grow this ugly-ass beard, you look like you wear your clothes to bed, and you move us to the middle of Nowheresville, U.S.A. And why? For what reason? 'Cause somebody told you it was pretty once? And if that's not enough, you talk to Mom like she's still here, yeah, I've seen you! And Delia does too! So what do I have to say for myself? What do you have to say for yourself?" Treat casually asks Ephram if he really thinks his beard is ugly. Treat, I normally find your unflappable jocularity disarming, and it's not like I enjoyed the tension of this scene, but your kid is having the hissyfit of his life here, and not without reason. A little decorum is in order.
Anyway, Ephram doesn't skip a beat, screaming that his mother never would have moved them to Everwood. Treat, finally flapped, yells that Ephram shouldn't be so sure of that, and I'm amazed at his self-control in not blurting out the truth right there. Ephram screams some more that Treat didn't know Sue Ellen because he was never around, and that the family all just tolerated him. Treat yells at Ephram to bring on anything else he's got. Ephram: "I wish you died instead of her!" Treat: "Well I wish I did too, you little bastard!" They scream that they hate each other, and then Ephram takes off on his bike. God. That was horribly harrowing, and it's easy enough to take Treat's side, because Ephram said some terrible things, but he's fifteen and didn't have all the information, so I definitely felt for him here too. Let's just agree that in fights like these, there's never a winner. Treat composes himself as he watches Ephram bike away, so when he looks to his left and sees Nina wave to him from her doorway, he's back to Treat form as he jokes, "I run a tight ship." Nina asks him if he wants a cup of coffee. Treat: "Only if it's spiked." Treat, from your mouth to my liquor cabinet.
Inside, Nina pours coffee as Treat apologizes for his display of parenting techniques. "I'm just recently becoming familiar with them." Aw. Nina says that it's hard being a single parent, prompting Treat to ask if she's in that category, and given that she's pregnant, I'd think that would be an awkward question, but I guess the fact that she doesn't have a scarlet "A" on her chest is a good sign. Nina tells him about Shutup Carl, saying that he's a "wonderful, funny, and caring man." Well, I'd agree with one of those adjectives, if in a different sense than Nina intended. She goes on that Carl's only flaw is that he travels eight months a year, and I'm with her if she means that that's four months too few, but again, I think I'm putting the wrong spin on her words. I like my interpretation better, though. Sam happens by, and Treat observes that he has a rather nasty cough. Nina says he's had it for a month, and I guess they grow them tough in Colorado, because I don't know anyone who would be that calm about their young child having an extended respiratory infection. Maybe this is one of those towns where everyone walks five miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways. Nina goes on that Patch thought it was a chest cold, but the medicine he prescribed was ineffective, although the cough hasn't gotten any worse. Treat notes that Sam's been digging, and examines his fingertips, which seem to have some sort of mild rash. Nina gives Sam a spoonful of medicine, which Sam swallows with a very cute "Yuck!" Well, he's not going to change my mind about kids, but at least he's better than another WB kid that shares his name.
Once he's gone, Treat tells Nina that Sue Ellen was the perfect parent. Note that he does not say she was the perfect wife. He goes on that she knew exactly what to do with the kids, and likens his prowess as a surgeon to her skill as a parent. I have to say that parenting seems about as tough as neurosurgery to me, so I'm all for that comparison. Nina intuits that the reason Treat came to Everwood was because of Sue Ellen, and I have to say that while Nina isn't always my cup of tea, she was excellent in this scene -- she let Treat talk as much as he clearly needed to, and actually listened to him. By way of answering, Treat asks Nina if she believes that people's souls stick around after they die, and Nina responds simply that she does. Treat says he has to prove to Sue Ellen that he can be "the kind of doctor, the kind of father that she wanted me to be when she was alive." A bearded one. Treat wonders if that makes him crazy. Nina: "To love someone so much you're still proving it to them after they die? Well, if that's crazy, Andy, I hope my own insanity isn't far away." See, now I think she's wishing for Shutup Carl's death, which I'm totally behind, but it doesn't really fit with the rest of the conversation. Well, I'm just going to hear what I want to hear. For a change.
Treat and Patch pull into their parking spots at the same time. Treat wishes Patch good morning, but Patch tells him to "buzz off," and then demands that Treat keep Ephram away from Amy. Treat's not sure that's what's going on, but Patch doesn't know why Amy would associate with Ephram. Treat: "He said something about a crack deal." Patch sneers at Treat, but Treat's had about enough of the attitude, and informs Patch that he misdiagnosed Sam, as he has something called the "gardener's disease," and I have no idea whether or not that's a real condition. ["It is; it's fungal, evidently." -- Sars] Patch looks a bit chastened, and Treat brightly says that if he thinks that's good, he should see what he can do with his hands. Heh. Patch dully asks him where his patients are, if he's so smart, and Treat happily points out that they're gathering outside his office now. Patch stares in disbelief as we see a large line of people outside the old station. A woman asks if his services are really free. Treat: "Only my medical ones." Patch angrily says that Treat can't charge people nothing, and Treat says that he'll double his prices. Patch cringes, as do I, but Treat's really winning over the Lawrence Welk crowd here. And now that we've established Treat as Santa Claus and Patch as The Grinch, I understand even better why Patch is my favorite character. He looks to his right, and then storms over and berates Edna for being a part of this "madness." She chews him out about cutting back her hours, saying that he and the whole town know the real reason why he did it. Patch spits that her working for Treat "takes the cake, MOTHER." I'm not sure if I would have been surprised by that revelation if this had been the first episode of the show I'd seen, but it was definitely an entertaining twist. Edna shoves him out of the way. "Move it or lose it, Junior!" Hee. Treat smiles. Need I add the word "big"?
Amy greets Ephram in the hallway. He immediately turns around. Hee. She calls after him that she brought a peace offering, which looks like a replacement of the manga that Bright destroyed. He bitches her out for lying to him, but she claims that she simply didn't tell the whole truth, and while I find that argument disingenuous in most cases, I might be willing to allow it in this particular situation. Amy says she wants Ephram to meet her boyfriend, and he snarks that that's right on his list of things to do, "right between picking up my dry cleaning and chopping off my hand." Well, Ephram, you did just fine without that hand earlier in the episode, I'd note. Oh, come on, you were thinking it too. Amy, unfazed, says that her boyfriend is in Denver, and if they want to make it back by dinner, they have to leave now. Ephram can't believe she's serious, but she asks him again to go with her. "After that, you don't have to talk to me ever again if you don't want to." Promise? Ephram doesn't look like he wants to go, but he's sweet as cotton candy, so you know he will.
Edna starts to leave for the day, but Treat calls her back. Knowing what it's about, she apologizes for not having told him that "Old Tight-Ass" is her son. Hee. Treat cautions her that he doesn't want her there if it's part of a revenge scheme, but she assures him that she needs the work, although she admits that the look on Patch's face was a bonus. Treat asks what happened, and Edna backstories that Patch Senior died two years back, and she got remarried soon after (two months after, in fact), which caused a scandal in the community, although from the way she words it, it isn't clear exactly what caused the scandal, if you take my meaning. I like the ambiguity there. Edna goes on that Patch thought it was adversely affecting his business, and he wasn't crazy about the new man, so he cut back her hours, and she quit. She concedes that she understands why he did it. "He worshipped his pops. Never got on with him, but he sure did worship him." Treat's face goes thoughtful as The Tinkly Piano Of Words That Hit Close To Home starts up. She finishes, "They were exactly alike." Treat asks if she really thinks that fathers and sons that don't get along can have something in common. Edna: "In my experience, when a father and son don't get along, it usually means they got everything in common." Treat may find that thought uplifting, but I find it about as welcome as a woman hearing she's turning into her mother. Just to complete that picture for you, I would never tell one of my female friends that without updating my will. Anyway, they look at each other for about eighteen years until someone finally remembers to cue the sound of a horn outside, and Edna bids Treat good night. He goes to the window and sees her kiss Irv warmly. Aw.
Fade into Ephram and Amy looking in at Coma Colin. I don't think that's Mike Erwin, but I don't know for sure. Amy introduces them through the door. The railroad may not stop in Everwood any more, but the Exposition Train is still chugging through the town as Amy tells Ephram that Colin grew up down the block from her, and they did everything together. She goes on that Colin was the first boy she ever hated, hit, or kissed. Ephram hopes that that's not a package deal. She tells him that Colin and Bright were best friends. I'm not guessing that's going to make Colin's stock rise with Ephram any. Ephram looks like he still wants to be angry with her, but he can't. Ah, Everwood, where the trees are green, the snow is white, and the morality is grey. Amy's voice breaks the tiniest bit as she tells him about the 4th of July joyriding accident, and she says that Colin was driving and Bright doesn't remember what happened, even though we all know now that neither of those things is true. (And if you think I've cried a lot this episode, just wait until I recap "We Hold These Truths." I'm going to need an IV for that one.) She finishes that Colin's been in a coma ever since, and that she prays every night for a miracle, but nothing happens. Amy looks into Ephram's eyes: "When I heard about your dad coming to town I thought, if anyone could help him, it'd be him, right?" Ephram looks away, no doubt realizing the irony that even now that Treat's given up his career, it's still screwing up Ephram's life. Amy: "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Ephram. I was gonna tell you, I just -- I didn't know how." I give Amy a pass on this one, but Ephram looks like he doesn't know whether to yell or cry. Aw.
Delia bounces into the kitchen and says that it smells good in there. Treat cheerfully tells her that they're having reheated Kentucky Fried Chicken, and Treat, I'm glad you didn't burn yourself this time, but seriously? Ew. Treat wants to celebrate their first edible meal, and if this is the best you've done in Everwood, Treat, I think you'll be getting acquainted with a little agency called "Child Services" soon enough. Treat sends Delia down to the basement to get the silverware while he goes to get the "fine china." He goes to a cabinet that's situated such that he sees Ephram arriving home. Treat complains that Ephram never even looks him in the eyes any more. Remember that in a few minutes. Remember also that I do not promise any more jokes for the remainder of this recap. The camera pans over so that we see Sue Ellen sitting on the couch. Sue Ellen points out that instead of talking to him, Treat talks at him. "Try asking him how his day was. Try listening." Treat says that Delia's much easier, but Sue Ellen points out that she's four, so we have a time frame for this conversation, which wasn't the case with the first one. Treat counters that Delia's always known how much Treat loves her, but he hasn't been able to get a similar message through to Ephram. Don't worry, Treat, you'll see Delia's bratty side soon enough. Oh, sorry, was I supposed to be making you feel better? How insensitive of me. Sue Ellen thinks they'll work it out, and then changes the subject to inform him that she's figured out where he should go if she dies, so I guess this was right on the heels of that first conversation, so we do have a time frame after all. That damn Berlanti is staying one step ahead of me. Anyway, the answer is of course Everwood, and she curls up in his lap as she tells him that when she was a kid, she got stuck in Everwood while on a train trip with her parents, and it was the most beautiful place she's ever seen. Treat: "There's no chance this place is also a major center for neurosurgery, is there?" Two words, Treat: Colin. Hart. Sue Ellen laughs and says that the other thing he has to promise is to stop working for the rich and famous. Treat says he'll have to write that down. Sue Ellen: "Just remember one thing: Everwood, Colorado. That's where I'll be." Treat: "Then that's where I'll be too." What can I say? There's nothing to say. I'm only pausing here to compose myself, because the rain is not going to let up in these last five minutes.
A new camera angle shows Delia watching Treat. He snaps out of his reverie and, realizing what she saw, says they should talk about it. Delia tells him that it's okay, since she knows what's wrong. "You have a distraught heart." Oh, no fair, Berlanti. Getting an eight-year-old to tell her father that he has a distraught heart over her dead mother? They have a term for that in sports: Flagrant. Foul. It carries severe penalties. Treat starts crying, and pulls her into a tight embrace as he tells her he loves her. God, AB. How do you see the screen through the tears?
And just when you thought it couldn't get any more deliciously bittersweet, piano music starts playing. At first I thought it was the soundtrack, but then we see a pair of hands moving over a keyboard. Delia and Treat enter the room and see that it's Ephram. Treat Captain Obviouses, "You're playing!" Ephram curtly says that he felt like it. Delia, displaying more social awareness at her age than some people learn in their entire lives, leaves to set the table. Treat approaches Ephram, unsure what to say, and then asks how his day was. Ephram: "It was okay. I found out I'm in love with a girl who's in love with a guy in a coma, but other than that, it was pretty standard." And despite Edna's bubblegum wisdom about fathers and sons, it doesn't seem that Treat can quite relate to that situation, as he sits down without a word. He offers that he said some things he didn't mean, and Ephram responds in kind, although he meant what he said about the beard. Treat says he's not shaving it, and Ephram smiles a bit as he concedes that it's also distinguished. Oh, Lord. Pull out all the stops, why don't you, Berlanti. Treat says he'd forgotten how well Ephram plays. Ephram: "Mom used to say I had your hands." How many lumps can I get in my throat before I choke to death? Before I can process that question, however, Ephram, while continuing to play, turns and stares into Treat's eyes intensely. I can't describe the incredible depth of feeling that Gregory Smith conveyed with that one look, but let's just say it was enough to cause temporary blindness. Good thing I can touch-type. Treat smiles to himself, and Ephram continues to play as the camera pulls back and Irv voices over, "And there they sat, father and son, like they were sitting together for the first time. No, I wasn't there the day Doctor Brown's life changed forever, but I was around for many days thereafter, when he and his family would call Everwood their home." Two things: One, pay attention to the word "home" -- it's a big theme in this series. Two, I may not have coined the phrase, but after umpteen pages and probably as many tissues, I think I've earned the right to say this: Damn you, Berlanti.