Maxine is on the phone in the DCF office, bitching someone out, when Marlee Matlin (in the form of one Eliza Spears, deaf activist) marches in and tells her, via her American Sign Language interpreter, to "get off [her] butt regarding the Dexter case." Woo hoo, somebody stands up to Maxine and we're less than a minute into the episode! Exposition, exposition, exposition: The Dexter case involves two orphan brothers, the eldest of whom is the court-appointed guardian of the younger, who happens to be deaf. In the last few months, the younger has started missing school, and stopped signing. Eliza is concerned, and thinks Maxine ought to pull the kid out of his brother's care and into a foster home. She demands that Maxine accompany her to assess the situation. Maxine attempts to wriggle her way out of it, but Eliza won't hear of it (no pun intended). It's nice to see that someone can boss Maxine, even if it takes an Academy-Award™-winning actress desperate for rent money actually to do it.
Sidebar: What is different about Marlee Matlin's face? Did she get plastic surgery? Or is she just getting older, or what? Because she looks...different, and I can't put my finger on why.
Anyway, back at the ranch, Vincent is digging through a pile of junk in the basement as he tells Amy that he's been given a position teaching writing at the university. In the midst of vacillating between being pleased and excited about having "a real job" and being concerned that he's going to hate the "overeducated, arrogant graduate" students, he comes across both Amy's old trumpet (which prompts a rather clever embouchure entendre from Vincent), and a letter of acceptance from Yale Medical school for their long dead, insurance-salesman father. Shock. Confusion. Decidedly unmusical thwapping from Amy's trumpet.
Credits.
Vincent wonders aloud to Amy why their father would choose insurance over medicine. Amy sort of listens to him whine as she gives Lauren a quarter to buy lunch. A quarter? Where does this kid go to school? ["Or, perhaps, 'when?' 1953?" -- Wing Chun] Amy explains to Vincent that their father was a math/science whiz, so she isn't surprised that he was accepted to medical school. She tells Vincent that their father wasn't always quiet, and withdrawn. Vincent complains that he missed "the good part," and looks pensive. I have to say that I find it hard to believe that Vincent is that much younger than Amy. Dan Futterman and Amy Brenneman are basically the same age. I don't buy that they could have had such disparate family experiences. Also, Dear Vincent: Wash. Your. Hair. Thank you. Love, I.
Amy and Bruce flirt their way into her office. Those two are just so darn cute together.
Maxine, Eliza and the sign language interpreter arrive at the Dexter household. As Maxine notes, "The housekeeping leaves much to be desired." They poke around a bit and find this episode's designated Really Cute Kid -- Kevin -- watching TV, and alone in the house. Kevin doesn't have anything to say to any of them. The older brother -- Paul -- comes thumping through the door at this point, to deliver the obligatory 'We're Fine, We Don't Need Your Help' speech, which, as we all know, will eventually be followed by the 'Thank You for Saving Us From Sure Disaster, Maxine Gray' speech. Eliza exposits that Paul has never bothered to learn sign language, and asks him why Kevin has been missing school. Paul explodes, and says that he's sick of "this deaf chick hassling [him]! Who appointed her God?" Maxine looks displeased, probably because she knows that it was she who was appointed God, not Eliza. Although it's clear that the Dexters are wicked poor, and with a minor lack of respect for authority, it's also pretty clear that Big Paul really cares about Little Kevin.
Vincent opens his first class as a night-school instructor by telling his students that there are two essential books for any writer: The Great Gatsby and The Essential Rumi. I can give a big word to the Fitzgerald selection -- although I think anyone who's made it through high school has at least read it, but I've never heard of The Essential Rumi. Vincent tries to engage the class by asking how many of them have always dreamed of writing, or, for how many of them writing is an undeniable urge, or a need...or something they'd do if they had time...No one responds. Until one guy complains about having to buy extra books, and a woman asks if they're going to run late. Vincent is crestfallen at the utter pedestrian-ness of his students. Welcome to teaching, Vincent.
Amy's courtroom. The case? A custody hearing, mais oui. This time, a white couple wants to adopt the black child for whom they've been caring since his grandmother suffered a heart attack seventeen months ago. They had previously adopted the child's sister; the baby, Eryc, is thriving, and everything seems hunky-dory. Amy is all ready to give the family, the Chases, the go ahead when Eryc's grandmother -- Mrs. Raymond -- and her legal counsel burst in the room, just in the nick of time! She has recovered from her stint of poor health and wants her grandson back. The Chases look dismayed. Amy issues a continuance.
Back at home, Amy tries to cheer Vincent up as he bitches and moans about his job, and about life in general. Vincent, you're cute, but shut up. Having a "real job," as you put it, sucks, yeah, but it doesn't suck that badly. Vincent tells Amy that he's not afraid of working (coulda fooled me, Mister. You've been a copywriter, a journalist, a teacher, a freelance writer, and a dog groomer, and the season isn't even over yet); he's just afraid of settling. The way their Dad did. Oh, God, here we go. Amy reminds Vincent that, for a writer, getting to teach writing is hardly settling. Vincent whips out the old "those who can, do, those who can't, teach" aphorism, but Amy tells him to shut up before I do. Wow, in this episode, so far, Vincent's insulted graduate students, teachers and insurance salesmen. I wonder who's -- volunteer firemen? Vincent sums up his father's entire existence by calling him a "pathetic Willy Loman type who worked his ass off and died too young." Jeez, Vincent, issues much? Amy and I roll our eyes in sync and she says, "Okay, I don't know what drama you're living in," (Um, Amy? I think it's Death of a Salesman. Just a guess), and goes on to remind him that their older brother, Peter, loves carrying on the family business and selling insurance. Vincent is scared that "it's a family trait." Huh? Like, becoming an insurance salesman is hereditary, like blue eyes or big feet, or something? Does he think that one morning he's going to wake up with Insurance Fever, and he'll blindly be lead by his genes into the world of selling Death and Disability? Sometimes Vincent confuses me.
In the courtroom, Amy is informed that Eryc is doing really well with the Chases; he's bonded with his sister, he calls his foster parents "Mommy" and "Daddy," yada yada. Mrs. Raymond's lawyer points out that the only reason Eryc doesn't have an equally stong relationship with his grandmother is because he hasn't been given the opportunity...and then he mentions The Issue: that Eryc ought to benefit from the "shared cultural experience" between himself and his grandmother. In other words, that he would benefit by being raised by an African-American, rather than by a white couple. Everyone looks a little uncomfortable. Amy looks right at Bruce -- because, I guess, they're talking about black people, and Bruce is, you know, black. Bruce looks down at the papers in his lap. I think he wants to stay out of this one. DCF says that they just want Eryc to grow up in the best environment possible, all things considered.
Amy and Bruce wander back to her office. She bemoans the fact that race is being made an issue when it's not supposed to be, in adoption cases. Bruce argues that while it can't be the main factor, she shouldn't ignore it, either. He gets all standoffish to Amy when she tells him that she's going to rule in the best interest of the child, no matter what. "You're the judge," he tells her. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asks. "It means it's none of my business," Bruce snips passive-aggressively, leaving Amy all by her lonesome in the hallway, looking forlorn in her turtleneck sweater.
Maxine and Eliza are before a judge in chambers, discussing the Frères Dexter. Eliza tells the judge that she wants Kevin placed in a foster home where he will be encouraged to sign, but Maxine pipes up that she disagrees. "Really?" asks the judge, in a weary and totally not surprised tone which indicates that he and Maxine have had a long and tedious relationship. Maxine thinks that such a move would be precipitous (I see she's been reading the "Word Power" section in Readers Digest again). "'Precipitous,' my ass," Eliza signs. She sure is one sassy deaf chick. Eliza and Maxine argue: Isolation from the hearing world. Family. Lack of Communication. Brothers. Insensitivity to the plight of the hearing-impaired. More importance of family. Fishcakes. The judge interrupts and says it sounds like failure to protect, and orders that the child be put in a safe foster home while they investigate Paul further. Maxine looks like she has a killer case of indigestion. Eliza looks smug.
After the trial, Eliza chases Maxine into the hallway. She apologizes, but says that she's doing what she thinks is right. "I know," Maxine says, "and I disagree with you. These boys love each other, and this is...WRONG!" She self-righteously stomps off, leaving Eliza to stew in her own juices.
In Amy's Halls of Truth and Justice, Grandma's lawyer makes the case that Grandma is healthy, wealthy and wise enough to care for Eryc. Grandma acts all feisty and starts spouting catchphrases like "spring chicken," "no one knows how long we have to be on this earth," "why don't you start digging my grave, right now, boy?" Everyone chuckles at her tenacious and spunky love of life, especially Bruce, although he does it to his tiny desk, because he's pretending he doesn't care what happens in this case. Amy gives Grandma a beatific smile. Grandma is not at all a stereotypical rendition of a sassy, Southern black grandmother type, except for the part where she totally is. Oddly, however, she, like Amy in the Halloween episode, is wearing her hair in a multi-braid updo. What's up with that?
Later, Bruce trudges into Amy's office under the pretense of having her sign some papers. He totally passive-aggressively asks her if she needs anything else (like, oh, I don't know...his LOVE?), and when Amy asks him what's up, he begins to speechify that he would just like to say that -- well, we never find out, because Donna, Amy's very odd and awkward little sidekick (what exactly IS her job? Is she a court reporter? Or a secretary? Or the janitor? Or what? Because she clearly works at the courthouse, but no one seems to know what, exactly, she does) pops her head in and interrupts. Bruce doesn't want to go into his diatribe in front of her, apparently, and leaves all snappishly. Donna, who Amy married to a man serving time for killing his own mother and then chopping her into little tiny bits earlier in the season, wants Amy to meddle in her personal life again, this time arranging a conjugal visit for her and Oscar. How romantic. I've always wanted to get it on in a jail with a man who killed his own mother. If by "wanted," you mean, "would rather stick red hot knitting needles under my toenails and cross the street walking on my hands." Amy tries her darnedest to get out of it, but Donna acts all goofy and sad and Amy feel guilty, and relents and agrees. Donna gives her a huge and unprofessional hug. Amy looks scared. I think Donna has a really big girl crush on Amy, the way I used to have on Catherine Zeta-Jones, before she started keeping company with that groty old Michael Douglas.
Outside the courthouse, Bruce is waiting for a cab because his car is in the shop. Amy more or less forces him to let her give him a ride home.
Bruce and Amy then share the World's Most Awkward Ride Home. Bruce is completely snippy, and Amy tries to make him tell her why he's giving her the silent treatment. She tells him that not being open with one another will hurt their relationship. She bats her eyes at him. "Judge Gray," Bruce says icily, "You're my boss. That's our relationship." Ooooooh, Amy! Moded, corroded, your booty just exploded! To borrow a phrase.
Bruce enters his apartment, and Amy watches, all stalker-like, from her car. When his front door opens, a little girl runs out and he scoops her up into his into his arms. She calls him "Daddy," and he asks her sweetly about her day. Bruce -- a father. Who knew? Not Amy, who connects the dots, and realizes there has to be a Mommy in the equation somewhere. She looks disappointed, and, like every Gray in this episode, dismayed with the hand life has cruelly dealt her.
Could someone call Applebee's Restaurants and tell them that the concept of "chicken-fried chicken" is redundant? Thanks.
The morning, Amy catches up with Bruce in the hallway on the way into the office. He's blathering on about some divorce case, when she interrupts to ask why he didn't tell her that he's married with children, especially since he knows everything about her, "down to [her] shoe size." "I'm not married," Bruce says, walking away from her. Amy looks surprised...but pleased. Oh, yeah. She is so warm for his form.
While Amy secretly mulls the concept of Love in the Office Place, Meddlin' Maxine pays a visit to Paul Dexter. Paul is seriously depressed, because DCF has already removed Kevin from his custody. Maxine tries to rile him up by telling him that he didn't even put up a fight, attempting to goad him into getting off his can and into the Child Custody Game. Paul is impervious to this psychological trick, though, and just lies on his bed and says he doesn't care. Maxine tells him that she knows he loves Kevin, because, when Kevin and their mother were in the car accident that orphaned the kids, he never left Kevin's side, and slept in a chair to his hospital bed. I begin to tear up, just a little. Paul explains that he couldn't leave Kevin, because Kevin is afraid of the dark. One lone tear rolls down my cheek. Paul tells Maxine that he tried to make Kevin's life just the way it was before their Mom died, but that it was too hard. He sniffs back tears. I sniff back tears. Maxine sits on the bed. I sense what's coming and gets out my Kleenex, but the box is empty, so I resort to a roll of toilet paper. Maxine says DCF didn't take care of Paul, that they let him down, that they forgot he wasn't really a grown-up, because they were all so concerned about the little deaf kid. Paul bawls. I bawl. Maxine dispenses hugs.
Grandma is on the stand, explaining that she loved taking care of Eryc, and that she misses him. Amy asks why Grandma surrendered custody of the other child the Chases have adopted, Eryc's sister. Grandma says that she couldn't take care of her with a sick husband. She starts crying. I start crying. Again. The Chases lawyer asks what would happen to Eryc if she should have another health crisis. Grandma says he will be raised "by a community that will love and understand him," although none of the community is technically related to him. Grandma says the community would be "tied to him in a way that a white foster family will never be." For the two hundred and fifty-seventh time this season, Amy looks perplexed.
Vincent, whom I forgot about until just now, is visiting Peter at the family's insurance firm. For some reason, Peter is dressed like a newspaper man from 1936; rolled-up white shirt sleeves, an argyle sweater vest, pleated gabardine trousers, a fedora. Well, no fedora, but it might be hanging on the hat rack in his equally retro office. Vincent, on the other hand, is dressed like a small child, in a sweet navy blue windbreaker-type coat and little button-down oxford shirt. He looks like Maxine dressed him before she left for work in the morning, although I suspect if that were the case she would have made him WASH HIS HAIR. Peter and Vincent yammer about the relative happiness of their father in his career. Peter tries to convince Vincent that insurance is exciting and satisfying. Vincent rolls his eyes and tells Peter about Yale Med. Peter just hrrrumps and says their father would have hated not being his own boss, and calls the insurance company their father's baby. "You really do like this job, don't you?" Vincent marvels, in the same tone in which anyone else would wonder why someone they knew liked the taste of human flesh. "Yes," Peter explains, "I do." Vincent looks -- say it with me, children -- pensive.
Halls of Justice. Mrs. Chase is on the stand, explaining that she and Mr. Chase are trying to be sensitive to their children's racial identity. She starts to cry as she tells the court that they have their dream now -- their family -- and the thought of losing it...she breaks down. She pulls it together enough to say that it would be cruel to take Eryc away from the sister he loves and the only family he's ever known. I sort of start to cry again, but I think it's just allergies.
Amy makes the conjugal-visit call to the warden. Boy, that's not embarrassing or anything -- having to make arrangements so that a co-worker can have sex. It's also embarrassing that the convict in question is named Oscar Pant. "Pant." Hee hee. Sorry. Anyway, Amy tries to talk the Warden into letting Oscar and Donna celebrate their love, while Donna hems and haws and paces around the office. Amy is really nice to her. I mean, I think of myself as a good friend, but I draw the line at making other people's sex dates, thank you.
Back in the courtroom, Amy tells Grandma and the Chases that Eryc is lucky, because he has so many people who love him. In the midst of her spiel, Bruce waltzes, late, into the courtroom. Dude, in the dictionary, to the entry for "passive-aggressive," is a picture of Mr. Bruce Van Exel, sitting at his tiny desk in the corner and trying very, very hard not to care. Amy tells the court that she is granting the Chases custody of Eryc, but that his grandmother has visitation rights, with both Eryc and his sister. Grandma's lawyer huffs and puffs, as does the Chases' lawyer, but both potential parental parties look okay with the situation.
Back in chambers, Amy flounces in the door, drags Bruce in behind her and asks him what the hell his problem is. He says he doesn't have a problem. She calls him passive-aggressive. He says she has an "unreasonable need for [his] approval." She calls him Mr. Frosty. Can't the two of you see that you're fighting because you love each other? She tells him maybe it's just not going to work out between them. He says maybe it isn't. She says he disengages. He says he's being professional. Then, just as Bruce is getting ready to stomp out the door, he turns to Amy, and says, all passionately, "Do you want me to engage?" and he strides over to her and I swear to God, I think he's going to kiss her, but he just tells her that she made the wrong decision with the Chases. She says she didn't. He says Eryc ought to be raised by people who can help him cope with the racism inherent in society. Amy says some idealistic stuff about someday living in a color-blind society. Bruce tells her, "Until you have a child come home and tell you she was called a 'nigger,' you can't understand how impossible that is." He walks out. The score: 15 -- Love, Bruce Van Exel with the point.
Courtroom, but not Amy's. Paul Dexter tells the judge that he knows he screwed up, but that his brother is all that he has left. He makes his own mini-'Please, Your Honor, Don't Take My Child Away from Me' speech, and sits down. Maxine apologizes for the way DCF did the Dexters wrong, and vouches for Paul's ability to take care of Kevin. Eliza says that Paul is going to stunt Kevin's talents and abilities, because he's marginalizing him as a deaf person. Paul says that he's going to learn sign language. (As an aside -- sign language is so cool. I tried to learn it in college, but all I remember are a bunch of swear words and the first few lines of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. ["Fluency in ASL is one of my dad's many talents. When I was younger, he used to interpret mass. When he was courting my mom, he gave me the gift of a simplified sign-language dictionary featuring the Sesame Street gang signing the kinds of words kids would need to know, like 'friend' and 'candy.' My dad rules." -- Wing Chun]) Eliza says that Kevin has no future with Paul. I think Eliza is unable to see the forest for the trees, here. Just as the judge is about to make his ruling, the sign-language interpreter interrupts. Kevin wants to say something. Kevin gets up and goes off with the signing, saying that his brother is the best big brother in the world, and that they need each other. Kevin says that Paul taught him how to throw a curve ball and that he gives him hot chocolate, and that he reminds Paul to feel the fish and holds his hand at night when he gets sad. Kevin is crying, I am crying. Paul and Maxine are crying. Kevin promises that if they let him go home with Paul, that he'll use his sign language. Then, he stops signing and speaks, all teary. "I miss him," he says. I totally bawl my eyes out. The Judge lets Paul take Kevin. Maxine bursts into maniacal, all-knowing laughter, filled with the glee of being correct yet again. Well, not really, but you know she wants to.
Outside the courtroom, Maxine runs Eliza down, to gloat over her victory. She cloaks it in concern, though, asking Eliza if she "wants to talk about it." Maxine points out that Eliza ought to be happy that Kevin is signing again and that Paul is learning. Maxine reveals that she was once Eliza's social worker, when Eliza was just a poor deaf orphan pain-in-the-ass (her words, not mine), that she knew even then that Eliza would be okay, no matter what happened, because she was so strong and feisty. And she tells Eliza that she sees those same traits in Kevin. Maxine pats Eliza on the knee and tells her that she did a good job. Eliza returns the compliment. How nice of Maxine, to take some time out of her gloating to compliment the opposition, although she does attribute all the opposition's success in life to her own efforts.
Donna nervously thanks Amy for helping her get the conjugal visit arranged. She then goes way personal and asks if Amy could recommend a book. A sex book. Amy extrapolates that Donna is a virgin. "Oh," she says, "that's so...special." Donna says that she's been waiting for the right person, and that it's taken some time. If the right person turns out to be a guy who's in jail for chopping up his mother, what kind of guy was Donna dating before this? Men who killed lots of people's mothers? Jeffrey Dahmer? Jeez, Donna, I know you're kind of awkward and all, but I think you could maybe raise the bar just a leetle bit. Donna tells Amy that she wants her first time to be memorable. Amy gives her a slightly incredulous, but not unkind look and says that "memorable, [they] can do." I guarantee you, sex with an inmate is bound to be memorable. Not that I know from experience, I'm just sayin'. It stands to reason.
At the Gray Compound, Vincent and Maxine are in the basement, talking about Willy Loman -- I mean, Vincent's father. Vincent, I love you, but therapy is your friend. Tell all this to a professional. Maxine tells him that his father "never settled for anything." She explains that the week he got into Yale, they found out she was pregnant with Peter. Maxine says that Vincent's father just traded one dream for another, and that his real dream was to have a family. He didn't want to miss his children's childhood for his career. Maxine tells Vincent that it was "[his] daddy" who talked her into having a third child -- Vincent. Vincent asks if this means she didn't want him. "Only in the abstract," Maxine replies, "you grew on me." Vincent asks Maxine what his father wanted him to be. "Happy," Maxine says. Vincent smiles his trademark Rueful Smile.
Cut to his classroom. The class seems finally to be engaged, or heavily sedated, because they're all gazing, rapt, at Vincent. Vincent says that everything a writer experiences is material, from the mother who goes behind the woodshed to smoke, to the father who taught you that "everything worth anything in life is a trade-off," and that good writing makes the reader realize that they're not so alone in the world. I guess Vincent has Learned His Lesson About Life, and, this week, his father taught it to him From Beyond the Grave.
Back at the courthouse, Amy demands to talk to Bruce. She tells him, "When race becomes an issue between us, I don't know how to respond." Bruce crosses him arms and tells her that race isn't an issue between them, it's a fact. He tells her that they're "always going to have racial tension." I don't know, but I think they've got all kinds of tension between them, if you know what I mean. She tells him that she doesn't think they're all that different, and asks if he would have talked to a male judge the way he talked to her. Bruce says he would have, but then he thinks about it and shakes his head. Amy thanks him for admitting he treats women differently than men, but Bruce tells her not to equate that with racism. "You say potato, I say po-tah-to," she sighs. "What?" Bruce asks. Amy sighs again, and asks him if he wants to get out of there. Bruce agrees, with a teensy smile and they leave together. On the soundtrack, Tracey Chapman asks us "who dares to go / under the bridge and over the tracks / that separates whites from blacks?" Well, I think it's going to be Bruce and Amy, but that's just me.
week on a new episode: Amy's hair is alternately curly and straight, Maxine blows a ton of cash, and cooties are mentioned in open court.