We open with a very special episode of The Wonder Years. Panning down to the L.A. Farmer's Market-looking train station, complete with three of the exact same car (one red, one blue, and one black) to show that we're in the sixties. No, I'm sorry. It's the sounds of "Freedom Rock" blasting in the background that let us know it's the sixties. Come on, people, now. Smile on your brother. "The whistle of a train is a mournful sound," our humble narrator informs us. "As if the locomotive itself could grow tired of saying goodbye." We watch a woman in uniform walking with her husband and two children into the station. "It is the sound of wars and death, distances of time and space, of families ripped apart, love torn asunder, futures repealed." Sometimes it's just the sound of gettin' to work. Anyway, ArmyMom asks which of her children wants to hear a speech first. The boy volunteers, and the woman leads him to the side. We quickly ascertain that we're watching a young Patch say goodbye to his mother as she leaves for Vietnam. The little kid (he started in sweaters early) reminds his mother that he had made an extensive pros and cons list, and the results clearly indicate that she shouldn't go away. YoungEdna tells Little Patch that he's his sister's superior and in charge while Edna's away. Patch nods an understanding. "You're a good kid, Harold," she tells him, stroking his cheek. "Just try not to take everything so seriously." Everybody get together, try to love one another right now. Edna tells Harold to get his sister. A little redheaded girl comes over, all smiles and happiness. Yay, Mommy's going to Vietnam! Isn't it just the most exciting thing to ever happen to Everwood ever?! The little girl asks if she can visit her mother in Vietnam. Edna says it might be "a little tricky." The little girl's name is Linda, and Edna tells her that although she told Harold that he was in charge, the truth was she needs Linda to look after Harold. They hug goodbye. Harold gets another hug. From somewhere in the crowd we hear, "Kids, I need a minute alone with your mother. Go watch from the window." And as the parents say goodbye, a giddy Linda hauls a tearful Harold over to the window. Linda raises the blinds, so stoked that her mom's totally going to Vietnam. Harold is more than upset, wondering why his mom would leave even when faced with the facts of his pros and cons list. Linda, so proud of her mom, says that Edna's off to see the world, just like she's going to do some day. There's a bit of an "are not"/"am too" argument here as we dissolve...
...into grown-up Linda, played by Kimberly from Melrose Place. She's staring through the same window, carrying a massive amount of luggage. She enters the building and is shocked to find Treat there instead. Treat tells her that they're closed for the night. Linda, still open-mouthed, says, "No. I, uh...this used to be a train station." Treat says she's a couple of years too late, and wants to know if she was planning on going somewhere. She says she just got back. Well, why was she headed away to the train station again, then? Hmm. Linda says every time she comes here, she feels like she fell down a rabbit hole into some other time and place. Now, the only other episode I've seen of this show is the pilot, but I'm going to take a guess and say that every time someone enters this show as a new character, they have a line almost exactly like that one. "At the same time it's so familiar. Even now. I missed it this time." Treat asks this woman who she is. From off-camera we hear Edna bellow, "Linda!" She runs in and pulls her giggling daughter into a big hug. Edna introduces her daughter Linda to Treat. "Hey, Mom. I'm in from the faraway place that requires big traveling bags." "Great. Meet me at the train station." "I'm taking a plane." "Yes, I won't explain anything, just show up at the train station." "Okay!"
Whoa. These opening credits. That music! Am I watching a Rockwell painting or a National Geographic episode? Shouldn't this be in IMAX 3D for the full effect?
Heavy piano music of family gathering plays as we enter the Abbott home. Linda's still yapping about her travels, mentioning words like "Guinean Border" and "surgical theatre." This woman has no idea what she's talking about. Also: there's way too many patterns on clothing here. Between Edna's plaid and Harold's argyle, I don't know where to rest my eyes. Linda's trying to win us over quickly: "Between rounds I amputated a six-year-old boy's leg." Oh, who hasn't? Check out the juice glass Linda's using here. You'll recognize it later, in a different house. Linda wants to give everybody presents, but Harold is a hater of fun and all things smiley, so he says that everybody has to leave and there's no time. Linda ignores him and hands Amy a wrapped-up blanket that says, "Sorry your boyfriend died." Inside the blanket is a necklace that apparently keeps you from drowning. I wish she then jumped and said, "Oh! Your boyfriend didn't drown, did he?" Linda is uncomfortable in the moments when the kids are opening the gifts, and fills the space with strange sounds and growls. Linda brought Bright a mask that looks a bit like a grumpy Harold. There are two things I'd like to say here about Bright. One is that I think it's cruel to name the "dumb one" Bright. Or to name any kid an adjective that they might not live up to. Or even if he did. What if he was a geek named Bright? Why not just call him "KickMyAssEveryDayMyParentsMadeMeATool"? But mostly I want to say this: hair department. You are making a horrible mistake on this kid's head. He looks like a balding man who was awoken from deep sleep by a fire alarm. Or like he always just took off his football helmet and his scalp's still sweaty. There must be something that can be done for this poor boy.
Rose thanks Linda. I like Rose. I wish she got to talk more. Harold accuses Linda of bribing his children. Linda tells Harold she's got a gift for him, too. It's a cowbell-type instrument used for herding sheep. Instead of "thank you," Harold says, "Yes, that will be very useful when I've...lost all my sheep." Notice how the smile never leaves the man's face. He's a genius at smile-acting. Angry? Smile. Jealous? Smile. Depressed? Smile, smile, smile. Linda asks Harold if he's happy to see her. Harold says he would have appreciated a call or an email saying that she was coming for a visit. "Didn't even know until Mother told me yesterday." Edna hugs Linda and brags that she wanted her daughter all to herself, and they went out drinking last night. Not to play favorites or anything. Linda tells Harold to take the day off. "I'll write you a doctor's note." Harold beams and says he's sure that would be very persuasive to his ailing patients. "I'm afraid some of us doctors do have borders. And schedules." Linda and Edna stand in profile as The Oboe of Neglected Older Child plays its mournful tune.
Diner. Treat tells Harold he met his sister last night. Harold does a little number not seen since Abbott and Costello: the coughing double-take (sans liquid -- this guy's good!). Harold informs us once again that Linda never told him that she was coming home after being away for three years, but she's got time to hang with Treat. Harold says that they're as close as two siblings can be when one's holding up all of the family obligations and the other one is traipsing around the world with nothing but a suitcase to worry about. "Like some kind of Baedeker-toting Dr. Quinn. Peace Corps. Doctors Without Borders. Medical Institute of Beijing." Harold, meanwhile, has been busy chopping off ingrown toenails, holding up the family practice. Treat says he knows what Harold means. Harold says he doesn't, since he got to be away from the suckhole town for a few years. Treat agrees that he doesn't know what Harold means, and that he only said those words to be nice. "Brighten up, Harold." Does it look to you guys like Treat's wearing a disguise costume made by Acme? Like the cover of a Just For Men box? Harold smirks, smiles, mocks Treat, and goes back to his coffee.
Nina makes an awkward run out of the diner after Treat. She stands there for a long time, holding a pot of coffee, waiting for Treat to deliver the insulting line: "No offense, Nina, but that outfit really doesn't work outside the diner walls." Nina has a favor to ask. One of her friends, Debbie, has a son who was just busted for stealing condoms from the pharmacy. He's only thirteen. And since Debbie is also a single mother, Nina figures that Treat can understand her problems in raising a kid, and how she could really use a man about the house right now to explain to her son what condoms are for. Treat doesn't seize on the obvious joke here, about how he could be the man about the house who could show Debbie what condoms are for, but instead complains about having to talk to boys about sexual responsibility, as if that's not something doctors are supposed to do anyway. He says that when he tried to talk to Ephram about it, he pretty much had to go to "Plan B," which is ignoring the fact that his son is becoming sexually active. What a great role model. He says he'd rather give a boring lecture at the front of the class, and not one-on-one where he'd have to "listen" and pay "attention" and "care." He reluctantly tells Nina to bring the kid by after school and he'll have a talk with him. Nina's pot of coffee's getting cold, so she goes in. "I'm dead," Treat says to nobody.
Lunchroom. Bright makes a beeline over to Ephram, who's reading a comic book and listening to his Discman. Bright asks if he can sit with the easily-startled Ephram. He does. Y'all, Bright's lunch tray has a slice of pizza and two hamburgers on it. And three milks. Ephram asks Bright what he wants. Bright says he just wants to enjoy Ephram's company. "You want my pudding?" Four milks. My bad. Didn't see one around the massive amounts of food. Ephram asks Bright what's the favor he wants. "Okay, it's about Amy," Bright starts. "No," Ephram says. Bright argues that Ephram doesn't even know what he was going to ask. But Ephram doesn't want to hear it. "Whatever's going on with you and your sister is your business, not mine. When I try to make it my business, she gets mad at me." Bright says that with "everything that's been going on lately," Amy's been "a little out of it." Ephram declares that to be "normal." But Bright says it's not normal, and that he's worried about her. He wants Ephram to follow her around, like he already does, and report back to Bright if he sees anything suspicious. Why would Bright assume that Amy's up to something when she's just been moping in her room, not eating, for weeks? Ephram says, "Forget it," because he doesn't care, I guess. Bright says he doesn't have to do it all the time. "Just...whenever you're...not busy...being a...loner geek, with weird t-shirts." Ephram: "You want me to stalk your sister?" Bright: "You kinda already do." Ephram says he won't do it. "Not my sister; not my problem." Bright stands up and takes his pudding back. Ephram goes back to his music.
Linda's sitting in the sitting room with Edna and Irv. Edna prompts Linda to keep talking about Sierra Leone, but Linda would rather hear what they're up to these days. Linda asks how Irv and Edna met. "Well, believe it or not," Irv starts. But Edna interrupts with, "Oh, church picnic, blah, blah, blah. You don't want to hear about us old fogies." Irv and Linda share the first of many looks. Edna asks to hear more about Africa. Linda whines that all of the stories blend together eventually. Edna says that she finds them all fascinating: "You're the world traveler I always wanted to be." Yeah, we got it. "You were the original," Linda says. Edna laughs. "That was just during the war. Now I'm an old biddy here with Irv." Irv makes a "Hey!" face, but doesn't say anything as Edna begs for one more story. Linda tells a story about being in China, walking down the street, when a young boy pedaled beside her and silently challenged her to a race. So Linda ran against the boy's bike, and obviously couldn't keep up. She says the disappointed look on the boy's face reminded her so much of Harold that she booked her flight home that day. "I just felt so far away from you all." She means "y'all." Edna says sometimes you have to come back and recharge your batteries. Irv asks if there's a special man in Linda's life. Linda says there hasn't been in a long time. Edna puts up her hands and chuckles, "Who has time for a romance when you're saving the world, one starving orphan at a time?" Edna asks if Linda's off to India . Irv and Linda stare at each other for a while, all concerned looks and overplucked eyebrows.
Treat invites the young condom boy into his office. Think Leaf Phoenix in Parenthood. The kid sits down, but remains pretty quiet. Treat takes a seat and says, "Your mother was hoping that you and I could have a candid talk, man to man, regarding sexuality. That is, regarding your sexuality, or your understanding of the rudimentary elements of sex." He says they could have a Q&A, or he could talk extemporaneously. The kid says he already knows all of this stuff, so he'd appreciate it if Treat would just tell Debbie that they talked so he can get out of there. Treat asks why he stole the condoms. "It was a joke," the kid says quickly. "Was it? Because either you were planning one of the biggest water balloon fights in history, or you're curious." Like they don't keep the condoms in Everwood behind the counter. I'm so sure. Treat does some fatherly blah-blahs about sex, and curiosity, and hormones, and it's stuff we know at, like, seven. I like that the kid flinches on the word "hormones," though. Treat says it's okay to want to kiss girls and hold hands and do stuff with girls. This is all too much for the kid, for some reason, and he breaks down and admits he's done way more than that already. "I've done a lot more." He says he can't tell Treat more than that. Treat reminds the kid that whatever he tells him will be confidential, and won't leave the room. The kid thinks it over and then asks, "You can't?" Treat promises, and says it's a "doctor rule." Then quickly adds that unless he's a danger to himself or someone else, he can't tell anyone without the kid's permission. He asks again what the kid's done. He says, "It was just a few of us." We finally learn this kid's name is Travis. "Some kids I know. We were playing around at the fort out by Miller's Pond. And some of them starting kissing each other and doing stuff to each other. And then one of them said we should go all the way. I didn't want to, but everybody was doing it." He says nobody else knows about this. "You won't tell, will you? You said you wouldn't tell! You promised!" Yes, but promises are no fun, are they, Travis? A kept promise won't advance the plot. At this point my boyfriend turns to me and asks, "Why is he upset?" "I'm not sure," I answer. "Someone talked him into having sex." "Why isn't he smiling?" he asks. "Maybe this is their way of saying he had sex with a group of boys." "Oh, yeah. That makes sense."
Of course, Treat has immediately told Travis's mother, and she's now in the office. He wants Travis to rat out the kids so Treat can call all of the parents. "This is a public health issue now." Let's not go right to hysterics, okay? "These kids are at risk for physical problems as well as psychological ones. Not to mention unwanted pregnancy." Oh. Huh. Girls were there, too. Yeah, this sounds like most after-school hangouts at woodsy forts, doesn't it? People making out, some having sex, being forced to make out with someone you don't really like, but everybody's making out so why not. This is called high school, not a public health issue. "I think I can help them," Treat says. "But not if I don't know who they are." This from the man who was squeamish explaining that sometimes boys want to hold girls' hands. Debbie asks if the kids will find out that Travis is the rat. "They'd be mad if they found out." I'll say, kid. Treat promises not to tell anybody who told him. I read somewhere that the censors made them cut what Travis was really supposed to be confessing to: that older girls made them go down on them. But that still doesn't explain why everyone needs a pregnancy test or an STD test, unless Treat doesn't understand where sperm come from. Even if there wasn't a cut, and this is what the script was supposed to look like, this doesn't seem like that big of a deal, does it? He wasn't raped, he didn't rape anybody, and high school kids experiment all the time. Debbie tells us that Travis is new at the school and is having a hard time making friends. Heh. "Hard time." Heh. "Travis has never made friends easy," Debbie explains. But it appears that Travis has now made some easy friends, so let's split the difference. Treat says that his own son went through the same thing last year. He says there's only one right choice here, and unfortunately it's the hard one. I'm not really sure why Travis has to rat out everybody who had sex with him, but fine. They're going with it. "I think you should do what the doctor is asking," Debbie says. "And give him the names of your friends." Are they still friends? And poor Travis, who got tricked by his friends into having group sex, and then tricked by his mom into talking to a doctor, and then got tricked by a doctor who promised nobody would find out, now has to write down a list of names so that everybody will totally hate him and nobody will ever give him a hand job in Everwood ever again.
Linda is looking through her dad's old things, marveling at how small they are compared to how she remembers them. Harold says he wasn't going to throw them away just because Linda didn't claim them. Linda says she had no place for them, since she hasn't had a home in six years. "Doctors Without Borders," Harold says out loud again, causing Linda to lick her lips in frustration. I love how everybody's quitting Doctors Without Borders this week in television. "Or apartments!" Linda asks with much alliteration if Harold's intention is to throw bludgeon her with barbs until she's beat. She asks if she shouldn't have come home. Harold says she could have come home three years ago, for their father's funeral. You can pretty much write the script from here. She was too busy, too far away. Harold finds it hard to believe that she could be so busy for three full years after someone dies. He'd find a way up from the bottom of the sea if his family needed him. And he'd still be smiling. She thinks that their mother's doing just fine. Everybody says in unison with Harold, "I needed you." Linda: "I'm here now, Harry." "Wonderful. So when do you leave?" Harold storms out before she can answer.
School. Amy and Ephram ad lib through the hallway about some teacher's eyebrows. Amy meets her friend MiniAB at her locker and asks if she's ready. Now that I see Laynie, I understand every haircut AB has given herself over the past year. Laynie says they're going to hang out at her place for a while, for the "vast selection of cereal," among "other reasons." The girls giggle. Laynie says they have some stuff to do before a party tonight. "At ECC," Amy says with a sigh. This is a college party. Ephram lets us know that we're supposed to be outraged at this. Laynie says that high school girls can always get into college parties. "I mean, we're practically the reason that they throw them." Gross. Ephram asks if he can come with them. Laynie and Amy say this is totally a "girls only" thing, where they're going to give each other Pap smears and breast exams between trying on clothes. Ephram says he loves clothes, and tricks Amy into saying it's okay for him to come with them. He follows, pouting.
Irv finds Edna in the kitchen and teases her: "This, uh, thing you're doing with the stove. I'm not sure I understand." Edna says she's making dinner for her children, as she always did when they were growing up. "But you don't cook. Ever. You don't even reheat." Edna admits she was more of a drive-thru gal recently, but her daughter loves her chicken cacciatore, and that's all that's important. Edna's love of Linda makes me hate that goody-goody doctor. "Every time I see that girl she looks younger, and more full of stuff, you know?" Hate her. "God, the things she's seen. I keep telling her she ought to write a book." Hate. "But then again, she'd have to sit still long enough to write it." Her. Irv says he thinks Linda might like sitting still for a little while. Edna's all, "My daughter? You don't know my daughter. My daughter. My daughter. She's the best. Daughter, daughter, daughter. Mine, mine, mine. Favorite, favorite, favorite." Irv asks if Edna thinks making a home is only for the weak, since she did it. Edna says she once had Linda's life, but had to give it up. "Linda knows better than to make that mistake." Irv is indignant. "Is that what family is to you? A mistake?" Edna asks him not to get all sensitive. "I wasn't born in a time where a woman had much of an option but to tie herself down. Truth is, if I didn't have a family weighing me down back then I don't know what I would have done. Just don't assume she's unhappy because she doesn't have what we have. There's no reason why a woman can't be perfectly happy being alone." Irv grumps, "It's never too late to find out." He leaves as the oboe and piano play his sad, sad, neglected song. Edna barely gives it two head-shakes of thought.
What time is it? What day is it? Now there are tons of parents in Treat's office. Wow, it was a pretty big group sex session, I guess. Treat says he knows this must seem as shocking as he thought it was, which is why, for some reason, he brought all of the parents in together. This is the dumbest idea I've ever seen. Why bring all of the parents together to let them know that all of their kids have been having sex with each other? Who does that help? They're just going to get defensive and indignant when faced with the entire town knowing their kids are sluts. And of course this is exactly what happens. AngryDad wants to know which kid is spreading lies about their children. But the mob already knows: it's the bastard child Travis, the one who's new, the one who saw a therapist at his old school, the one who's got a mom but no AngryDad. Travis's mother doesn't stick up for him, and the heavy silence that follows the accusation makes it obvious that Travis was the rat. Treat tells all of the parents that he'd like to give all of their kids blood tests to see if they spread syphilis or gonorrhea around. Does Treat normally deal with people only on the internet? Because in what world does it make sense to tell a large group of people that their children may be oozing goo from their privates? AngryDad is furious, calling Travis a big liar, and says this is a waste of his time. He demands an apology from Treat, who says he won't apologize for being concerned over the children's welfare. AngryDad swears he's never coming back to that doctor's office. Does this happen every week, too? One rich, small town gets three or four doctors, while the inner city clinics have a nine-hour waiting room line to get hooked up to oxygen or sew up open wounds. Ah, privilege. All of the parents leave together, outraged. All except for Debbie, who now clearly has the ratting, herpes-covered, liar child. "I knew he shouldn't have said anything," she concludes. "This is going to be terrible for him." Jeez. Then Treat has the audacity to ask, "Why didn't you tell me he was in counseling?" Oh, so now he's a liar because he saw a school counselor? Jesus, this show. What are they teaching children on this show? Your parents will never think you're actually having sex, but if you see a counselor then nobody will ever believe a word you say, so you should keep your mouth shut anyway. And the second you start having any kind of sexual experimentation you're dealing with a public health issue? Debbie says that Travis saw a counselor when his father left them, because he was "acting out" and pushing other kids. "Nothing like this." Like what? Treat says that her lie of omission put him in an awkward position, because now he thinks that Travis is probably a big liar too. Nobody has sex in Everwood! Debbie says that her kid has had his share of problems, since his dad left when he was eight, but he's not a liar. "I kind of wish he was." This is enough to sway Treat back to Travis's side. What a pushover.
Amy, Ephram, and Laynie arrive at Laynie's guardian-free home. "I'll go get the stuff," Laynie says. Amy's all cool, tossing her bag to the side and beginning to clear the dining room table. "You guys do this often?" Ephram asks. Amy says this is just to prepare for the party tonight. "Amy needs a test run before we put her out into the field," Laynie says, waving a bottle of vodka in Ephram's face. So much preparation to have Amy taste booze before going to the party. "I usually do two percent with my cornflakes," Ephram jokes. Laynie, the official guide to college boys, informs us, "So, college guys tend to favor the plastic handle special, but my dad's stock of good stuff will have to do." She holds up two glasses, I think the ones you may have seen in the earlier breakfast scene at the Abbott house, and waves them back and forth. "I try not to drink before fifth period," Ephram "jokes" again. He asks if everybody will smell the vodka on them. Laynie tells the youth of America that people can't smell vodka on you. That's not true, youth of America. You'll smell boozy. And if that's Dad's "good vodka," Dad has crap taste. Laynie then tells kids that if you eat peanut butter after your booze, then nobody will smell it on you. "An old boarding school trick," she smiles with a wink. Ephram's so upset about this. Amy sits down and asks what to expect from her first taste of vodka. "Kind of like a burning medicine," Laynie answers. Amy's so upset, she has to look away as she holds up her glass. Kids. If you're going to go to a party and you don't want to drink alcohol, you totally don't have to. I didn't. Everybody drinks out of plastic cups or mugs, so nobody looks at what you're drinking. And vodka is clear. And you can say you're drinking Jack and Coke but get away with only drinking Coke. Or you know the real truth? Nobody cares if you drink or don't drink. If you don't drink, then you're leaving more booze for everybody else. And nobody really cares. They just don't. Bring a six-pack if you want everybody to be off your back, if you have shitty friends who tease you, but the truth is nobody really gives a crap if you drink or not. Or here's the best one: show up pretending you're already drunk. Pop an Altoid when you walk in and nobody will know the difference. And also: get new friends. Because anybody who cares about this is a shallow waste of a human being.
Amy and Laynie clink glasses. Amy takes a sip and makes The Teenager Tasting Alcohol Face -- that sharp gulp and severe wince one makes when pretending that the water and orange juice combo is "harsh." This is always followed by a cough, and in this case a judging sneer from Ephram. Amy says it tastes like "orange juice in a gasket." Laynie tells Amy not to make that face. That's the same thing AB Chao said to me after she forced me to try a Stoli Vanil and Coke. Amy takes another sip and winces. "Nice," Laynie says. "We're all so proud," Ephram deadpans. Laynie takes Amy away to find the perfect slutty outfit. Ephram, instead of watching teen girls get naked, decides this is the time he's going to bail out. Amy says they're fine. "We're just screwing around, Ephram. Just...don't tell anyone." Ephram nods, and looks around. Ephram, what Travis could teach you about the options you have in the other room. Two "drunk" teenage girls taking off their clothes, asking you to keep a secret...what is wrong with you, man?
Wacky Family Tuba plays as The Awkward Dinner Gathering happens without any children present. Is it still the same day? Anyway, Edna's made dinner for everybody, and for some reason Rose isn't allowed to say a word this entire meal as everybody's very snippy with each other. Edna can't even ask Irv to pass something without him rudely shouting, "Shove it." Rose tries to stammer a compliment, but Harold's too busy calling his sister "Indiana Jones." Linda asks if Harold plans on doing any closed-mouth chewing. Harold shoots back that Linda probably has a plane ticket to buy. Irv announces that Edna considers domesticity a sign of weakness. Edna says she considers "not clocking [him] on [his] ass a sign of charity." "But you don't, Pumpkin Butt," he says. Whoa. I thought only my friend Weldon called his wife "Pumpkin Butt," a nickname the rest of us couldn't fathom anyone accepting. Harold, smiling, announces that the table should fall silent whenever Linda drops into the home to share some of her world-weary insight. "I'm sure it's just chock full of ancient tribal wisdom." Edna says he's jealous that Linda's the only one around here who has a life. Here's where Rose should shout, "Hey!" but she doesn't. Edna tells him not to talk down her accomplishments. This makes the entire table interrupt with comments until Linda commands everyone's attention to announce that she has no intention of leaving. She's home to Everwood for good, because she missed having a family. She wants to have a home. Harold tucks his napkin into his collar at dinner. Linda wants to join the family practice, and be a part of the family again. Edna calls Everwood a "flyspeck on a roadmap." Linda says she's tired of who she is, of living life out of a backpack. She wants to see Bright growing up and Amy getting interested in boys, watching Rose and Harry growing old together. "What I really need is a home." This kicks off The Piano of What It All Boils Down To, as Linda repeats, "I just need to come home." This is actually followed by, "Whadda ya say, Harry?" He responds, "You wanna be a part of our family. You don't wanna miss out. You already did. Bright grew up. Amy got interested in boys a long time ago. So we've all made new lives and gotten older and you missed the whole damn thing. And now you wanna cash in without having earned it? Over my dead body. You left us. We left you. Go find your center somewhere else." Awesome. I love that smiley asshole. I like how this show has to have everyone feel in complete extremes at all times. THIS IS MY FAVORITE DAUGHTER. I MUST BECOME A TOTAL SLUT BECAUSE MY BOYFRIEND DIED. I AM A GOOD DOCTOR WHO MUST DO THE RIGHT THING AT ALL TIMES. I AM A BOY WHO HAD SEX SO I MUST BE PUNISHED. I AM ANGRY WITH MY WIFE FOR BEING NOSTALGIC OVER HER TRAVELING PAST. I AM A RECAPPER WHO GOT TRICKED INTO SUBBING FOR AB CHAO.
Treat knocks on Ephram's door, causing Ephram to comment that Treat's getting better at that. Treat admits that he sometimes practices when Ephram's not home. Heh. Treat says he's taking the invisible younger daughter over to Nina's, because he's got a patient with a confidentiality issue. Ephram asks if Treat's ever told somebody, even though he's supposed to keep things confidential. Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago. Treat says that Ephram isn't beholden to any Hippocratic Oath, so he can talk to whomever he wants, and he should, if he knows something that could potentially hurt people if he doesn't do anything. Treat asks how his fatherly advice was. "Not bad." "See?" Treat says, all excited. "I really am getting better." Ephram asks if he can go the ECC frat party. (Is it a community college with a fraternity? Does that happen? And why only the one frat for the entire college?) "There's gonna be drinking, drugs, unprotected sex. I'll probably be the youngest person there. Besides, I don't want to go, I have to." He says it's because Treat just told him that if he knows something, he should do something about it. "And so having said that I'm all forced to let you go to a party that I never would have agreed to prior. Sounds like you're getting better at this." Ephram smiles, and The Thank God I Have A Son Who Can't Become A Slut Strummy Guitar kicks in. The world rejoices that boys will always be right and girls will always make the bad decisions that lead them to giving away their drunken bodies.
Ephram knocks on what is either Bright's guest house or his front door, but how come he didn't have to go to the dinner with the family if he was home? Anyway, Bright does this lean-in while giving Ephram the appreciative once-over. He asks if they have a date tonight. Ephram talks a mile a minute because we already know why he's there, and tells Bright that Amy's going to a frat party tonight to get drunk and laid. Since we know nothing about this frat party, they lay all of the exposition onto Bright, who has the whopping sentence: "My sister? Is at the most twisted college party of the year. The one where they hand out vouchers to freshman kids to trade in for date rape pills?" Yes, that one. Everybody's totally going, Bri. Don't be such a square. Want some peanut butter? Bright says that Amy doesn't even drink. "She does now," Ephram says. Bright leaves for his keys.
Treat doesn't seem to understand the concept of "confidentiality," because he's just spilled his guts to Nina, who's been working on fixing a bike pedal for three and a half hours. Treat keeps talking, and Nina keeps looking guilty, enough that I expect her to go, "I started it, okay? That Travis was cute, and I have a thing for young Elvis-looking boys with out of control sideburns and eyebrows. It was just a one-time thing, and I'm on the pill, so just back off, Mr. Doctor." Treat doesn't know what to do, since he can't test these kids for VD against their will, and the parents are calling Travis a liar. "I mean, they couldn't bury this fast enough. Bunch of cowards." Treat asks why Nina hasn't said anything yet. Finally Nina says she heard him, and she understands why the parents would want to keep it a secret. She explains the concept of gossip in a small town, which, if this is the second season and he's the new doctor who came to Everwood after his wife died, and is also the father of a boy who loves a girl whose boyfriend just died from surgery that Treat performed, you'd think by now he'd be fluent in small town gossip. But regardless, Nina treats Treat (heh) like he's some kind of big city boy who doesn't understand that one kid's business is everybody's business in townie life. What I don't understand is that if all these filthy kids need testing, you'd think that since all of the kids in town have already done it with each other, it'd be no big deal to have them get tested. Maybe this town needs a townie gyno. Hey, Linda. I think I've figured out your specialty in the family practice. Treat tells Nina he's surprised she's taking their side in this. She says that given the past few months, she's surprised he isn't. "Just thinking about it, and really putting myself in their shoes, it's what I think I would do." She says the parents are teaching the kids how to survive in a small town. "Nina, are you home?" we hear from inside Nina's house. "What is it?" she asks back, unconcerned that someone has apparently walked right into her unlocked house. It's Debbie, with her son Travis, whose bruised and bloodied face kicks off "Kids Can Be So Cruel," an arrangement for strings and oboe.
Harold would like to know why Edna has added insult to injury by forcing him to come to a seedy bar to discuss their problems. Edna's too busy drinking away her sorrows to care. Remember, kids: alcohol is okay to use as a crutch as long as you hate how your life turned out. If most of your life is still in front of you -- have group sex. Your parents will totally bail you out. Harold orders a "milk, two percent," but Edna orders him a Jim Beam straight up instead. This episode is brought to you by well liquor and two percent milk. Got Issues? Sorry. I can't believe I made a Got Milk joke. I've never done that before. I'm sorry. I should start drinking immediately. But then I might have sex. Oh, maybe I can have sex and then drink. So many choices! So many ways to cover my sorrows! "That was quite a pyrotechnics display you put on tonight," Edna says to Harold. Huh? Harold smiles through Edna's blame, saying that he knows there'd never be a way any of it was Linda's fault. Edna says that she knows it's her own fault that her kids fight. She says this isn't Linda's fault, because all she did was follow in Edna's footsteps. Edna's the one who left them to go to Vietnam. "She's an adventurer -- always will be. Just like you're the guy who will always stay. Out of fear, out of obligation..." Gee, thanks, Ma. Harold says the hour is late and he's in no mood to sit there and pay for her dime-store analysis. Edna says she wants to apologize. She admits that motherhood didn't come naturally to her, and that her husband knew that when he married her. "Well, he wasn't your child," Harold says. "You know, I can forgive all the burned cheese sandwiches, the forgotten school holidays, the bad Halloween costumes, hell, I can even forgive the birthday that you forgot last year." Wait, those things mean you've got a bad mother? Shit. I need to make a phone call. My mom didn't even go to Vietnam. She just had two kids, no money, a husband who worked long hours, and a job she had to work so that I could afford school clothes. And who gives a shit if she burns the grilled cheese? At least there's bread and cheese to burn. And the worst costume my mom ever made for me -- a "bug" made out of a sweatshirt and stuffed tube socks pinned to my sides, along with a dealybopper on my head and freckles drawn on my face -- was in response to the worst costume I had made for myself. I was going to be a "teacher," and dressed in a skirt and shirt, carrying a book and an apple. Nobody knew what the hell I was supposed to be, and my mom's crappy bug is the only costume that I still remember from when I was a kid. Calm down, Harold. Some of us don't even have memories of our parents. At least your mom's still across the street from you.
Harold's grudge is twenty years old, but at least he's smiling about it. "But why did you leave? I still remember that moment, tears streaming down my face. If I could have I would have run after that train. Oh! And then the three years you were absent. Those were pleasant." If you're gonna be missing from Everwood, better make it three years. "I got to raise a little sister while you hid out in a foreign country under the guise of patriotic duty. You know, that isn't a limitation, Mother. That is abandonment." Edna says she didn't know any better, and by the time she did it was too late. "Don't let Linda make the same mistake. Your sister wants to come home. Please. Let her." Huh? When did Edna do the turnaround? Why isn't she the one furious with Linda for not living out her dream? Well, I guess sometimes we don't get to see the switch from one extreme to the other.
Treat gingerly applies a Band-Aid to Travis's elbow. Thanks, Doc, but I bet Travis has bigger bruises to heal than that scrape. Anyway, the kids from school jumped Travis for being a rat. And then they all made out over him. Travis says everything he said was a lie and he was making up a story. But now Treat doesn't believe him, and says he knows the kids beat him up for telling the truth. This poor kid can't catch a break. They're gonna run him out of Everwood with sticks. Hey, does anybody want to ask the high school kids if they're having sex? How hard can it be to get one of them to fess up, or catch them in the middle of doing it, or listen to them brag about beating up Travis? Why is this kid the only way into the inner sanctum of Everwood High? Travis says those people aren't his friends. Treat states the incredibly obvious: "Those kids beat you up and you're afraid they'll do it again." Treat says he feels responsible. Oh, really? He says that it doesn't change the fact that Travis has to tell the truth now. What more truth is there to tell? He ratted everything already. Treat says what happened in the woods never should have happened, and those kids, even if they don't know it, are going to suffer serious mental damage from having sex in the woods, and are just as scared as Travis is. Uh-huh. He says that Travis is very brave, but needs to keep being brave so Treat can help them. "I don't want to be brave," Travis says. "I know," Treat says. "But I need you to be." This poor kid. What'd he ever do to deserve being Everwood's whipping boy?
Mansion. Where all frat parties are held. Everybody's holding The Official Frat Party Red Plastic Cup. Someone carries a keg by, so we know there's totally beer at this shindig! Woo! Ephram and Bright have no problems walking in, and check around for the instantly spottable Amy, who's standing rather innocuously near a couch, talking to Laynie. She takes a plastic cup from some guy who walks by, and takes a sip. "Oh, what the hell?" Bright moans as he walks over to stop his sister from making some kind of huge mistake at this innocent, smoke-free party filled with kids their age. Amy and Laynie get one more sip in each before Bright takes the cup out of Amy's mouth. They both ask each other what they're doing there. Amy asks if Bright's following her. Laynie points out Ephram, and says he's probably the one doing the ghosting. "Oh, I guess I know what your promises are worth now," Amy says. Ephram didn't promise anybody anything, but he says he was worried. Amy says she doesn't need him to worry. Bright says that Ephram was just worried that Amy would do something stupid. "Which, by the way, you are. You should thank him, because if DAD found out." Amy tells him to shut up. Bright yells that she'd be grounded forever. Amy says she's got everything under control, so Bright can just leave because nobody wants him there, anyway. I'm so sure that Bright wouldn't want to hang out with the college guys who are like, one year older than he is. Anyway, the "college guys" start shouldering up to Bright, asking if there's a problem. They quickly back down when Ephram says that Amy is only fifteen. And by "back down," I mean that one guy just starts laughing in a very weird way that seems to imply he was fully aware of her age, and that only made her hotter. Because that's totally what happens in life. Why is Everwood making it seem like eighteen-year-olds don't want to get with fifteen-year-olds?
They "let her go," but Bright decides that here in public is the best place to yell at Amy, when everybody is looking and laughing, presumably because children are arguing about dead people. "I can't believe you, Amy!" Bright yells. "You're pretending to be in college to impress some frat dicks?" And for some reason, the entire room of men doesn't beat the crap out of Bright just then. Then Bright pulls the Colin card: "Do you think Colin wanted to see you like this?" Drunk, sexed up, and ready? I'm guessing probably. "Huh? Being a total drunk slut at some party?" Okay. Now. Why is she being a slut, though? She wasn't even with a guy. And she's hardly drunk. She is merely at a party. Amy says to Bright, "Well, at least I wasn't drinking and driving." Bright asks what that's supposed to mean. I love how everybody's listening, but the music's still blaring. "You know what that's supposed to mean," Amy says. "Colin'd still be here if it wasn't for you." Bright says, "Well, maybe he'd still be here if it weren't for you. Huh? If you wouldn't've lied about it for so long he might have been able to get some help. But since you covered for him until he was practically dead already." Amy says that's not true. Bright says he knows he's not going to lie like that for Amy. He threatens to tell Harold if she doesn't leave with them right now. She leaves as Bright says after her, "I'm not covering for you." Laynie runs out after Amy, as all good bad influences do. Bright leaves, and everyone in the party is still laughing, having a great time watching a sibling fight about a dead friend. "Aren't high schoolers such dorks? I'm so sure! He's, like, seventeen!"
I guess it's the day because it's sunny out. Treat's assembled the group of angry parents once again, and he wants to do tests on their filthy whore kids. AngryDad doesn't appreciate being threatened with the health department. Treat says the health department will force them to get their kids tested. Really? Why? The outraged mother says their kids weren't in any "sex club." Huh? Sex club? When did it get a name? Like Fight Club? I think many pieces of this puzzle got cut by the censors and now these parents appear to be totally overreacting, don't they? Either they're proud of their sexy kids, or they're totally naive. Treat says that Travis was telling the truth when he said that they were having sex, and that's why the kids beat him up, so either the parents are stupid or liars. "I believe him," one mom says completely unprompted. "My daughter stopped going to her soccer games. She won't tell me why. She always tells me things. I want her to be tested." It's a Pap smear, not truth serum. Then this strange large hand clamps down on her shoulder from out of nowhere. "But if we do this thing, if we admit to ourselves and to you that this nightmare really happened, it can never leave this room. Can you promise me that, Doctor?" Treat thinks it over, gives Oprah a call, calls the health department, calls up a few med school buddies, and then heads over to Nina's to tell her everything.
Irv does dishes. Edna comes in and asks if he's been up long. It's the morning? Forget it. I'm not going to wonder. Irv says he's been up a while. Edna says he didn't need to do the dishes, but Irv says he doesn't mind. Edna sort of apologizes for things she said last night. Irv says she didn't think about how her words would make him feel. He says he had plans for his life, too, and didn't want to get tied down, but then he met her at this church picnic and heard her laughing, this incredible laugh like gravel on sandpaper, and suddenly he knew. "That voice could be opening the door to an adventure as profound as any I could ever have alone. And I chose it. And so did you. And now if you want to pretend that you were forced into it -- well, it's hurtful to me. And it denigrates the life that we built together. Do you understand?" The manly lecture is over, and the wife has been duly chastised, so we move on without her side of things.
To Treat on Nina's porch. Nina's kid has some serious bicycle issues. Anyway, Treat has just finished breaking yet another confidentiality agreement. He says that he told the parents as long as the kids were tested, he wouldn't say anything to health officials. Oh, great. Glad we addressed the real problem, then. "And just like that, it's dead and buried." He says the kids are going to take a "major psychological hit from this." Nina asks if he'd want to make the whole thing public. Treat says that so much of their lives are going to be defined by this moment. Sure wish we could know what moment they're talking about, because whatever it is, it must be terrible, but we know nothing, so it's hard to relate, or agree, or root for anybody other than that poor Travis kid, who's totally getting his ass kicked in school on Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And every day until he transfers schools once again until he finally lands in jail. Nina admits that she wasn't "particularly brave" lately. Excuse me while I puke a little. Nina admits that Carl left her. Months ago. For another man. Treat's all, "Why didn't you tell me this? I wish you would have, I mean, instead of keeping it to yourself all this time." So he could have sex with her now instead of later, when he's going to have to choose between her and Dr. Quinn, Medicine Sister? (Not a spoiler, just an obvious plotline.) Nina says that she thought if nobody else knew, then it would be like it didn't happen. She doesn't want the whole town to know, because they'll all tease Sam about it later. Treat says that the town doesn't have to know. "Now who's counseling keeping secrets?" she asks. Treat says she can tell people when she's ready, when it doesn't hurt so much anymore. Nina asks when that will be. Treat rubs her head, kisses her, and makes sweet heterosexual love to her on the porch.
Ephram asks Amy and Laynie if they're off to lunch. Laynie says they're going somewhere for off-campus lunch. Amy says goodbye to Ephram, so we know there's no hard feelings. Bright walks up and tells Ephram it was cool the way he handled last night. Um, Ephram didn't do a damn thing last night other than call someone "bro." They flirt with each other. Bright calls Ephram Vin Diesel, but Ephram likens himself to manga hero Tetsuo. "Isn't that the comic book that people who don't have sex read?" Apparently the official choice of Everwood reading material, except for those thirteen-year-olds who know where that fort in the woods is. Ephram and Bright walk off together to not have sex, but to judge young girls for being skanky, even though they didn't have sex either.
Harold sees that his sister is unpacking in his office. Just moving in, no matter what he wants, I guess. She calls it "our office." Harold mentions something about her third world tchotchkes. Heh. Linda says he can throw her out of the office, but he can't throw her out of Everwood. "I'm staying. And I'm staying in large part because of you. I want us to be a family again. Not the kind of family that you see every two years to exchange bad gifts. But the kind of family where you call up to borrow a screwdriver. That's what I want." And it's all about what Linda wants, isn't it? "And I'm staying right here in Everwood until I get it." Harold laughs, smiles, sighs, smiles, nods, smiles, and says the spare income wouldn't hurt. He goes over ground rules about budget and office supplies.
Unnecessary Flashback! Baby Linda and Baby Harry walk down the old Everwood street as "Love Train" or whatever plays again. Come on people now, smile on your brother. Baby Linda and Baby Harry are arguing over whether or not a train can take you anywhere in the world. Baby Harry is actually correct in saying that eventually she'd have to take a plane if she wanted to go anywhere. But Linda's a Baby Without Borders, so she runs into the train station as Kevin Arnold reminds us that maybe Winnie Cooper isn't the girl of his reality, but she can always be the girl of his dreams. And Vietnam. And dads can be difficult. And we never truly understand women. And Paul. And Mom. And meatloaf. And the war. Peace.