Betty and Don, dressed to the nines, unsteadily enter their bedroom, seemingly having just come from a ceremony at which Don won an award. Apparently jinxes don't affect this show, considering Jon Hamm went on to win a Golden Globe. Don notes that no one wants to look like they care about awards, but Betty giggles that he does, in fact, and Don admits it's true with an "Isn't that sad?" They talk about Roger for a moment before Betty extends her hand to Don, and he tells her "Enchanted," before kissing it. They move in for a smooch but end up hitting foreheads, which is a hilarious touch, and one they both take as a sign to give up and get into bed without any further undressing...
...and then it's five to eight in the morning, and Don and Betty groggily lift their heads, both looking like hell. Do you remember on The Jetsons, how in the age of videophones, people used what they called "morning masks" to hide their scary just-woke-up faces and hair? Tell me 1960 couldn't have used those. Don and Betty barely have time to hack up a lung before their kids start running in, and I know the show takes a pretty dim view of marriage but I didn't expect it to be quite so obvious in its anti-children bent as well. I do give Betty points for her succinct "Shit" at hearing the time, though. Anyway, Ethel is apparently downstairs and making them breakfast, and I expect it from Don, but I have to admire Betty for not hurling on the spot at the mention of food. Sally notices the award, and we learn that both Roger and Don were honored, although we don't hear what for, exactly. I'd guess Best Ad Campaign for Don, and Best Hiring Decision for Roger. Betty, showing that she's got her priorities in order, heads for the Alka-Seltzer. Don: "Just do it in the kitchen. I don't want to hear the bubbles." Don coughs again and closes the bathroom door, and the horseshoe on the award falls off its mount in response. Heh.
Don appears almost human as he enters the office, and if it's still the A.M., I'm certainly impressed. The girl at the front door congratulates him, saying she heard Advertising Age ran a picture of him. Don self-deprecatingly says that fortunately, no one reads it, although if people who look like him keep winning awards, that's bound to change.
Ken has just shown something to Peggy that she terms "amazing," and then when Don appears, Peggy tells him she'll get Pete and Paul. "They wanted you to know they were waiting, but they left." Hee. Peggy sees Don and Ken into Don's office and congratulates them both, and as she leaves, Don asks Ken what he did to deserve kudos. Ken hands a magazine over as he tells Don that he got a short story published in The Atlantic Monthly. We get a closeup of the first page, which reads "Tapping A Maple On A Cold Vermont Morning," and we can also see Ken's bio: "A graduate of Columbia University, Kenneth Cosgrove has lived in the New York area for most of his life. Working for the advertising firm of Sterling Cooper puts Mr. Cosgrove in a unique position to observe and study the trends that shape America today." Way to play it straight, Props Department. Pete and Paul enter and hear the news, and it's hard to say who's the more surprised, and who's the more dismayed. (In case it's not clear, they're both a lot of both.) Paul tries to be dismissively disbelieving about the whole thing, but this plan backfires, as Ken says that short fiction isn't even his strong point -- he's written two novels, and gives a quick plot synopsis of both as Paul and Pete look like they're the ones that drank a fifth too many the night before. Paul grudgingly admits that the premises sound interesting, and Ken offers to let him read one, but Paul deflects by bringing things around to business, saying he wants to talk about Liberty Capital Savings. Paying attention to business won't get that novel written, Paul. You think Ken wrote those on his own time? Anyway, Pete tells us that the bank is trying to get people into its branches, even if just for a visit, and Don muses that their strategy is silly, because it only serves to attract women, who for the most part aren't in charge of the household banking. He gets An Idea and says that men need their own accounts, beyond the family. Everyone sees the wisdom in that, and Paul adds that statements would be sent to the office, before suggesting, "Liberty Capital Private Account." Don amends that to "Executive Account," and before you know it, everyone's leaving with the satisfaction of having participated in A Job Well Done. As a reward, Don gets a call from Midge, who informs him she had a phone put in. Oh, Midge, how un-bohemian of you! What will the beatniks down at the experimental poetry house say? Outside, Peggy picks up the phone and accidentally hears their conversation; she starts to hang up, but is mesmerized by the prurient talk and so stays on until Midge tells Don just to get over there. "I want you to ravish me and leave me for dead." She's using hyperbole, Peggy. No need to call the police. Peggy carefully places the receiver back in its cradle ahead of Don appearing and saying he'll be back after lunch. I'd make fun of him for coming in at all if he hadn't been more productive in the fifteen minutes he was in than most people there are all day. Peggy uncertainly watches him go.
Paul, Harry, and Pete are in the last's office, with Paul and Pete bitching about Ken's success, of course. Harry pours them drinks and expresses his disbelief that Ken sat on the story until it was published, and then Paul talks about some experience he had hanging out with "all these Negroes," where they all ended up getting along. "Can you imagine how good that story is?" Sure -- pitch it to Ken and see what he says. Pete sadly notes that the Atlantic is a national publication, and Paul sighs, "That hurts too." Hee.
Midge and Don are lying intertwined; she jokes that he can go, as her needs have been amply satisfied. Don tells her she can't call him at the office; she tries to make light of it, but when that doesn't work, she gets offended and tells him that since his life is in a million pieces, he could do with having one less. He notes that he hurt her feelings, which I suppose is his way of apologizing. She calls him on waiting until he was done to make her feel bad about the phone call, and it's not that her point isn't valid, but if she knew how much he had to drink the night before, she might understand his reactions being slower than usual. She talks about her impressions of him, saying that sometimes when he turns up she can tell he's preoccupied, but he always changes gears. He tells her that he doesn't even think about it, and all I can say to that is that I certainly hope so. Midge says she knows. "I like being your medicine." Don's response to this rare intimacy from Midge is a mere "Okay," although I suppose that's better than a Don-shaped cloud of dust.
Pete and Trudy are in bed, and Trudy has apparently just read a story of Pete's, as he tells her just to say what's wrong with it, because he can tell she doesn't like it. She denies that, but when he presses her, she tells him she mostly reads the classics, and this was too modern for her. Pete says that's kind of a compliment, although he doesn't think she means it that way, so she offers, "I just think it's odd that the bear is talking." So much for a family trip to Jellystone National Park, then. Pete patiently tells her that the bear isn't actually talking -- "it's what the hunter imagines the bear to be thinking." Trudy tells him that it's well-written, and he should submit it, which gives Pete the opening to suggest that she run it by "Charlie Fiddich" for him. Apparently Charlie is a big publishing guy, but Trudy clearly isn't up for contacting him, and asks what the urgency is. He tells her about Ken getting published, a revelation she dismisses, as she doesn't think writing is any more than a hobby for Pete. Pete doesn't let it go, though, so Trudy has to tell him she's surprised at him, since he was so upset when he found out Charlie was her first. Pete: "This helps make up for that. Let Charlie Fiddich see what he's been missing." I feel bad that I'm failing where Don and Betty succeeded, but pardon me while I go throw up. Trudy gives in.
The day, Don comes in and hands his coat and hat to Peggy, quizzically responding to her lack of a salutation with "Morning?" Peggy recovers and tells him about a meeting in the conference room, and Don leaves her to look vaguely disapproving.
When Don enters, Roger is blowing smoke up Ken's ass for finishing the story, although it seems out of character for him to care. He adds that the piece wasn't much to his liking, "but I think it showed an uncanny understanding of what most people like." Haaaa ha ha. "You understand sheep, and we need that around here." Roger instructs Joan to run the meeting, and we hear from Ken, Pete, and Don in turn before Peggy enters and interrupts, saying that Don has a visitor. Don's thrilled to get out of the meeting -- until he hears that the man's name is "Adam Whitman." Don's visibly flustered, but pulls himself together enough to "go deal with this." At least that hangover's gone. Presumably.
Out in the reception area, Don sees the man in question with his back to him, and asks, "May I help you?" The guy turns, and he's an unassuming strawberry blonde of about twenty-five who stares at Don with stars in his eyes: "It's you. It's really you." He calls Don "Dick," and when Don claims not to know what he means, Adam gives him the benefit of the doubt and says he knows he's all grown up now, but he's Adam. "Your little brother." He shows Don the picture of him and Roger, presumably the one from Advertising Age Don mentioned earlier, and the show may have managed to sidestep jinxes, but in so doing ran smack into Irony. Don takes his brother outside and tries one more time to deny his former identity, but Adam's ruthless earnestness will not be stopped, and Don eventually agrees to meet Adam for lunch at a nearby coffee shop.
Don walks back to his office with an expression that suggests he fears all eyes are now upon him. He rejoins the meeting, but we hear nothing of the dialogue, much as Don isn't hearing anything either, until Joan asks him if everything's set for the Liberty Capital people. After a long pause, Don tells her yes, and with that, Roger dismisses everyone. Don strides purposefully toward the elevator, observed by Peggy.
Adam's waiting in a booth when Don walks in and joins him. They shake hands and sit back down, and then Don asks what Adam wants from him. Adam can't believe that's all Don has to say to him. "I thought you were dead, and you're right here!" Starting to realize that this isn't going to go well, he stops smiling and asks Don why he did it. "Why did you leave me?" Don drops the charade and says he couldn't go back there. Adam smiles again and says he knew Don wasn't dead -- he saw him in the window hiding in his uniform. (If you're watching this in order and want to avoid spoilers, here's a helpful tip: Don't click on hyperlinks.) He jokingly asks what kind of name "Donald Draper" is, but Don won't play, saying that people change their names. Don asks what happened to "her," and when Adam asks, "Mom?" Don dismissively says she wasn't his mother. "She never let me forget that." That sounds like a painful memory. It's good that when you're in one of the other ninety-nine compartments of your life, you don't have to think about it. Adam says she's dead of stomach cancer, and Don spits, "Good." Adam adds that their Uncle Mack is dead too, and then says that he's too choked up to eat. He heartbreakingly stares at Don for an eternity before asking if Don missed him at all, and whether he did or not, Don answers, "Of course I did." You might think this proves Don has a heart, but the episode ain't over yet.
The ostensible Charlie is showing Trudy to a seat in his office, commenting that he would rather have had lunch with her. Trudy breezes that she has an appointment with the decorator for their new apartment, but promises they can do it another time. She brings the subject around to the story, which Charlie has apparently already read, saying that he said he enjoyed it. Charlie says he did -- "as much as anyone can enjoy that kind of thing." As if it weren't Un!Comfortable! enough in here. Trudy hangs on to her smile for dear life as she asks if that means he liked it or he didn't, and Charlie, who's growing on me quickly, points out that what really matters is whether he publishes it. Trudy agrees, and then asks if Charlie has still been seeing "Laura," and Charlie says yes, and calls her "terrific" and "fun" in the tone of voice you'd use to describe a colonoscopy. A boring colonoscopy. Charlie sits down to Trudy and tells her he misses her, and misses being with her. In the interest of accurate reporting, he does seem like there's an emotional tie here and not just a creepy lascivious vibe. Anyway, emotional attachment or not, he does proposition her, but she turns him down, although not without some difficulty. He tells her he knows she'll never leave Pete, but he can keep a secret. You can cut the tension with a knife, but Trudy again turns him down. "No, Charlie. Please."
Betty shows up at the office with the kids, and Peggy realizes who she is from her voice. Betty says they're there to pick up Don, as apparently they have an appointment for a family portrait, so Peggy has to uncomfortably tell her that Don's not in at the moment, but she should go inside and wait. She opens the door and shows them in, and then goes running for the only logical person to see in this kind of crisis...
...Joan. Peggy pulls her aside and tells her the whole mess -- she's not supposed to know where Don is, and she would have reminded him about the portrait appointment, but he slipped out before she had the chance. Joan, of course, wants the juicy gossip on where Don is, and playfully refuses to help Peggy unless she gives up the dirt. Peggy tells Joan and her enormous rack about Midge, and that Don went to see her the other day. "He came back all greasy and calm." Hee. Joan inhales her cigarette and gives Peggy a simple plan -- entertain Betty and the kids, tell them Don left and you forgot to remind him about the portraits, and wait for him to return and make his own excuse, which he will. "And then you just start apologizing for...well, just how stupid you are." Peggy: "It's probably what I would have done anyway." Hee, again. These two have such great interactions. Peggy realizes that she really shouldn't have told Joan Don's secret, and Joan agrees. "I'm not gonna tell anybody, but you shouldn't have told anybody that." Let's just hope Peggy never finds out the whole Dick Whitman secret.
Speaking of which, Adam asks where Don was all this time -- not that he's mad, he just wants to know. My God, this actor is killing me, because Adam is so desperately, twitchily in need of some connection with his brother that it's completely heartbreaking. Adam asks if he has a wife or kids, but that's closer than Don will allow, so he says he's going to go. Adam, abandoning any solicitousness, says he doesn't understand why Don is being like this, and that, as family, he just wants to be a part of Don's life. Don stands and tells Adam that's not going to happen. "I'm not buying your lunch, because this never happened." I'll have to remember that one time I'm broke. Don leaves.
Peggy is following Joan's advice to the letter, and Betty engages her in small talk about her social life until she's rescued by a phone call. But it's just Joan, who mischievously asks how things are going. Peggy: "No thank you! I'm staying in." Heh. Betty asks Peggy if Don is treating her well, and Peggy smiles and says yes, and that Don has been very patient while she's learned the ropes. Betty tries a joke about how Don's such a chatterbox, but Peggy's too nervous to get it, so Betty has to explain herself. "You probably know more about him than I do." Peggy, recognizing this as dangerous ground, deftly shifts the subject to how beautiful Betty looks in the light in which she's currently sitting. Betty's touched, and if past occurrences are any indication, Peggy, this would be a good time to ask her for a bit of her hair. Don returns at that moment, though, and realizes his forgetfulness. Peggy gives a canned bit about how she's so embarrassed that she forgot to remind him, but Don picks up the cue, saying he forgot to check in before he went to the printer. The Drapers leave, with Don giving Peggy a generous "Don't worry about it" on his way out. Well, he's crushed someone else today, so I suppose his quota is filled. Peggy takes a ragged breath.
Betty looks at the pictures and pronounces them terrible. Francine (yay!) disagrees, but Betty bitches that Don was late, and it ruined the whole thing. Francine offhandedly says that Carlton is always late, and I don't suppose Helen Bishop, for one, would be surprised. Speaking of whom, Francine tries to cheer Betty up by pointing out that Helen has a big hole in her family portrait, so they should count their blessings. Betty says she's going to take them again anyway, as Sally looks fat. Checked into a mother/daughter rate on therapy, Betty? Betty uncharacteristically continues complaining, saying she expects the royal treatment when she goes to Don's office, but she rarely gets it. Francine admits that she feels the same way, and Betty concludes the men-bashing with "Our husbands. They are better out here, aren't they?" Francine: "Infinitely."
In the Liberty Capital meeting, Pete is leading up to Don's great idea, but when he's given the floor, Don says he thinks Paul has a handle on it. Everyone looks around uncertainly, like it's third and twenty and the star quarterback calls a running play. (Sorry, I'm around a bunch of frat boys, I start using sports metaphors.) Paul gets up and nervously pitches the Executive idea, and the Liberty rep is on board, but wants the word "Private" in there for clarity. He then laughs and admits that a portion of their clients are already doing this, but they had no name for it and no way to charge them. Everyone metaphorically slaps each other on the back as Don looks like he'd rather go back to having lunch with Adam than sit in on this.
Don returns to his office, and Peggy, having recovered her cheerful self-assurance, hands Don his mail, saying she opened all but one particular piece. Inside, Don looks at the envelope in question, marked "Private," and opens it to find a picture of him in uniform with his arm around young Adam. There's also a note on hotel stationery that reads "If you change your mind. #5G."
Paul enters the break room to find Ken telling a bunch of the office women about his novels. Paul interrupts and says he just finished reading the short story, and says it's great. However, he then grabs the copy of the Atlantic out of Ken's hands and rips the story out, saying he wants to show it to his girlfriend. Ken's response is, "Hey!" which I think in this instance translates into "What girlfriend?" Paul acts like an open wound some more before leaving the girls to giggle and Ken to gape.
Don starts to head out, and Peggy awkwardly confirms that he's leaving for the day. Don pointedly says he's going home, and can be reached there if necessary. He leaves, and Joan immediately rushes over and conspiratorially tells Peggy she always wondered why Don never showed any interest in her. "Probably 'cause he's so good-looking he can go outside the office for whatever he wants." You may be on to something there. She tells Peggy that she needs to keep Don's record clean for everyone, and if she does that, she's "solid gold." Peggy asks if that's really her job, and Joan firmly tells her yes. "That's his private life. Private. That's how these men are. And it's why we love them." It's hard to get away with calling foreshadowing when I'm doing these episodes out of order. Peggy says that she doesn't love Don, so Joan has to tell her that if she's even thinking of passing judgment, she's in the wrong business. And also, given the Pete situation, just the teensiest bit hypocritical. Joan tells her she needs to relax, and Peggy responds that the job is odd. Joan: "But it's the best."
Ken's on his way out when Paul catches him and apologizes for being a "bear" lately, saying that he competes with so many people at the firm, and he didn't know he was competing with him too. Ken: "You lost." He leaves, and Paul turns with a "You BITCH!" look on his face. Too bad Sal wasn't around to appreciate it.
Pete comes home to find dinner on the table, and Trudy serves him a drink and informs him that Charlie came by that afternoon, and he's going to get Pete published -- for a forty-dollar fee, in Boys' Life magazine. Pete is less than thrilled, so Trudy bites out that she could have gotten him in The New Yorker. Pete has the gall to ask why she didn't, openly admitting that getting his talking-bear story published is worth whoring out his wife, and that's not lost on Trudy, as she asks how he could do that to her. Pete doesn't respond, because what possible answer could he have?
At dinners where people have yet to lose their appetites, Betty talks about their dates to visit her dad in Cape May. She expresses her regret that Don will be stuck in the office in August, but smiles that she liked Peggy. "She's fresh." They dance lightly around that subject for a moment, but then Don tells Betty he might have to head back to the office that night. There's some momentary ambiguity as you think he might be heading to Midge's...
...but then we see it's Adam on his mind, as, in his study, he takes a Zippo and burns the photograph Adam sent him. He thinks for a while, lighting a cigarette in the process, but then picks up the note...
...and then someone's banging on Adam's door, telling him he has a call. Adam goes out into the hallway and is delighted to hear that Don wants to see him that night, although he ignores the obvious steel in Don's voice. Adam tries to find out where he's coming from, and says he doesn't even know what Don drinks. Don: "Whatever you have." He hangs up, takes out a key, and unlocks a drawer in his bureau. He then takes out a satchel and opens it, and the camera switches to a low angle so we can't see what's in the now-unlocked drawer. Maybe I had Match Point in my unconscious, but I freely admit I thought it was a gun when I first saw this. But we'll find out soon enough...
...as Don shows up at Adam's door. Adam opens up and tells Don how happy he is that he changed his mind, and apologizes for the shabbiness of the place, saying that it's hopefully temporary. Don, however, tells Adam that he has a life, and it only goes in one direction -- forward. Adam offers Don some gin, but he requests coffee. Adam, if you don't know something's wrong now, it just goes to show how little you really know him. Don postpones the kill, repeating what Adam told him about Abigail and Uncle Mack being gone, and noting that Adam is all alone. Adam too-easily agrees, and then says that he figures Don must be pretty important, what with the award he won and all. Don unconvincingly says he guesses so, and Adam smiles that everyone always said Don was too smart for his own good, although Uncle Mack thought he was soft. "But you're not, are you?" Don agrees that he isn't, and reaches for the satchel, and of course I thought that Adam was going to get a bullet to the heart here. Which would have been less painful than what actually happens. Don in fact produces a large sum of cash, and puts it on the table to him. He tells Adam it's five grand (nice play on the "5G" apartment number), and he should take it, leave New York, and never contact Don again. Adam doesn't want that, but Don tells him that's all he can do for him. He starts to leave as he tells Adam that he should go back to thinking he's dead, and Adam starts to cry as he asks where he should go. Don puts a hand on his shoulder and says that with five grand, he can make his own life. "I have too much here." Adam's face breaks, and he collapses into Don, who at least manages to hold him for a while without looking like he's counting the seconds. He finally does break the embrace, tells Adam it's going to be okay, and leaves. We see him walking toward us down the long hallway, mission now accomplished...
...and then he's entering the bedroom. Betty asks if he wants to see the kids, but Don says he just needs to go to sleep. Betty, however, asks him not to get upset, but, since he hates going to visit her dad, maybe they could buy a summer house in an area closer than Cape May. "I know we had a good year." Don, however, says that Cape May will be fine, and tells her they're "not that flush" right now. Maybe year, as long as no other long-lost relatives happen to read Advertising Age. Betty's a little taken aback, but recovers to smile that that's okay -- she likes visiting her dad. She turns out the light and puts her arms around Don, and we fade out on a picture of all the things Don has.
...and then he's entering the bedroom. Betty asks if he wants to see the kids, but Don says he just needs to go to sleep. Betty, however, asks him not to get upset, but, since he hates going to visit her dad, maybe they could buy a summer house in an area closer than Cape May. "I know we had a good year." Don, however, says that Cape May will be fine, and tells her they're "not that flush" right now. Maybe year, as long as no other long-lost relatives happen to read Advertising Age. Betty's a little taken aback, but recovers to smile that that's okay -- she likes visiting her dad. She turns out the light and puts her arms around Don, and we fade out on a picture of all the things Don has.