Mountains. Eagle. Trees. Lake. Street. Alaska! In her room at the Inn, Marin sits on her bed, contemplating a promo postcard she's received, advertising a new show at an art gallery on Delancey, in New York; she's now getting her mail forwarded to the hotel, apparently. Those Entertainment Weeklys are going to be of little use to her now.
At an office somewhere, Marin tells Patrick that while she knows she said she was on the hunt for culture, "this diorama is about as big as this town." No points for detail? Patrick proudly says that it was the first thing he commissioned when he took over as curator of the Elmo Museum. Marin looks horrified that the town's museum apparently shares space with the town's post office, daycare centre, and bait shop. Patrick stoops to point out a tiny model of himself, waving. It looks more like Tom Poston (R.I.P.), but a tribute is a tribute. Anyway, Marin says she was hoping for something more along the lines of the ballet, or a wine tasting. Patrick says that they used to have a karaoke night at the Chieftain, until Buzz threw the machine out the window. Marin sighs, and Patrick reminds her, "We're Elmo, not Anchorage." Marin asks where Patrick takes Annie when they go out at night. Patrick backs away from a couple of dudes bringing in taxidermied rodents to confide in Marin that he and Annie "aren't getting out much these days." Translation: you don't need "culture" when you're getting in regular (and, in his case, for the first time in twenty-six years). Patrick adds that once they've finished their lovemaking, Annie always asks him to leave: "We still haven't had a sleepover yet." He thinks they're having "intimacy issues." Marin, dubious, asks how long Patrick and Annie have been seeing each other, and learns that it's been thirty-seven days. Marin laughs, not unkindly, and quietly tells him that "real intimacy takes time." Patrick asks how much time, because he's kind of a pain in the ass.
At Annie's, she and Patrick are smooching post-coitally, until she briskly sits up, puts her nightie back on, and tells him it's time for him to "skedaddle." Patrick demurs. Annie tells him that she has to get up early for work, and Patrick points out that it's only 8:45. Hee. Annie, undeterred, informs him that she has to get up super-early, and that she likes to make the bed as soon as she gets up: "And I can't make it if you're still in it." What else can she tell him? Uh...she has to wash the sheets? She has a conference call? She isn't bothered by his overlong toenails during the act, but as soon as she's not distracted from them, they gross her out? The guy who's servicing her on the night shift is going to be there any minute? Patrick -- perhaps with all of these possibilities running through his head -- asks if there's something she's not telling him: "If you're anti-spooning or something, that's cool -- I can de-spoon." Annie assures him that everything's great. I still think a pedicure is never really a bad idea.
In a truck parked at the side of the road, Ben and Sara furiously make out. And I mean furiously -- they actually look like they might be mad at each other and taking it out on one another's faces. Presently, Celia appears, wearily telling them to separate and roll down the window. They're on a state highway, and even though they're obviously not bothering anyone (except Celia), she wants them to get a room. Fortunately, Sara already has one! "This isn't that," says Sara. Celia doesn't care: "I'm closing this heavy-petting zoo down." Well, even if she wasn't going to, calling it that surely killed the mood; all I can think of is a goat and a llama getting it on. Celia takes off, and Ben and Sara laughs at themselves. He asks if she wants to go to the Inn, but she says she doesn't want to mix business with pleasure. Ben suggests that they find another spot to park; she says it's ridiculous, but he says he thinks making out in the car is kind of fun. Sara: "Yeah! If we were sixteen." Well, honestly. This can't be good for anyone's back or hips. Anyway, she says that they're grown-ups, "with kids at home." "And wives at home," says Ben, stupidly. Uncomfortably, Sara says that she doesn't judge. There's an awkward pause, and then Ben assures Sara, "I'm not with her. I'm with you." Sara smiles. This is going to be a problem.
Morning at the Chieftain. Marin bounds in -- wearing the same outfit she had on yesterday (?) at the Museum, despite the fact that it was nighttime at Annie's, and on the side of the road (fire the continuity girl, show!) -- and runs into Jack. They stare at each other blankly for a second, and then Jack says, "See ya," and hustles out. "Nice talking to you," brays Marin, and as she stares after Jack's departing form, Theresa walks between them, asking, "When did you two start sleeping together?" Marin stammers a denial, Theresa doesn't buy it, and Marin revises her story to say that something may have happened "once, maybe twice." Theresa says she thinks Jack and Marin would make a good couple, and Marin scoffs that they aren't ready: "We're just going to be friends. It's all good." Theresa squints appraisingly: "You can pull that off -- just friends?" Marin, not seeing trouble ahead, says that she's excited to get to know Jack, "be pals," but Theresa seems uncertain that their friendship will bloom in a post-naked context. Marin defensively says that it's been done before, though she adds, "Not by me." She points to Theresa and Ben as a successful example of male/female friendship, but Theresa calls them "the poster couple for ambivalent relationships." Marin wonders if it won't be easier for Theresa and Ben "now that [they're] both dating," and Theresa, squinting harder, asks, "You're talking about Sara?" Marin tries to get Theresa to say that she knew, and Theresa shrugs that she figured: "It's a small town." With one more reminder that Marin and Jack are seriously just friends, you guys, Marin and Theresa part ways.
At the radio station, it's time for Marin to use her own iffy personal life to educate others in the ways of love, as she asks if you can be friends with someone you've slept with. I have a question for Marin: why are you wearing a sleeveless tweed jumper as a sundress? Put on a sweater, woman, Jesus. Anyway, Glen from Sitka calls in to say that you can be friends with former conquests. "I think so too!" crows Marin. Glen adds, "As long as you're not hot for them anymore, or if the sex sucked." Marin deflates, and as Patrick watches her with a dopey grin, Marin asks, "What if the sex was good?" Hey, who's the alleged life coach, here? Eh, whatever: Glen from Sitka's probably just as qualified as Marin -- maybe more, as he replies, "Then what are you doing not having sex with them?" Marin is dumbstruck, and Patrick says that Glen's got a point, and switches over to Zach from Ketchikan, who tried to be friends with a girl after they'd had sex, but couldn't stop picturing her naked: "Who wants to go backwards?" Marin doesn't agree that friendship is "backwards" (which -- sure, if you didn't really like each other that much before you did it), but Zach counters, "Once you've gotten more with someone, why would you want less?" Patrick looks at Marin like, "Well?" Marin scrunches up her face, shocked that no one in Alaska will validate her decision to sleep with Jack and then try to kind of act like she didn't.
After the show (or another day entirely, judging by her new outfit), Marin's having lunch with Annie at the Chieftain, asking why Annie won't let Patrick stay over. Annie swears Marin to secrecy, and then confesses that she snores. Marin doesn't seem to think that's such a big deal. Annie contends that "it's bad." Marin asks how bad it could possibly be, and Annie says she's not sure, since she's never heard herself, but that she used to wake her whole family: "They made me sleep in the garage!" Oh man, that reminds me of a family reunion when my parents, my grandparents, my sister, and I were sharing a cabin, and my dad's snoring was so oppressively loud that the day we all compared notes on what we'd considered doing to escape it; my mom and I had each contemplated sneaking out to the back seat of the car. But we still might have heard him through the window. Dude, it was bad. And so it is with Annie, but Marin's bored talking about her problems, and changes the subject to the fact that Elmo only takes up an eighth of a page in some Alaskan cultural guidebook she's acquired. Annie's not done, though, sadly saying she's not joking about her adenoidal challenges, so Marin puts her book away (for now) and says that everyone has secrets, but that when you're intimate with someone, you have to trust that he'll be able to handle them. Annie asks what Marin's secret thing is (oh, this ought to be good), but she'll only cop to dangling earlobes. What's wrong with that? It's the attached ones that people should be ashamed of. Annie excuses herself to return to the office, expositing that she's in charge while Jack's away. Marin asks where he is, and learns that he's tracking a bear. Marin says it sounds dangerous, but Annie says he's just collecting stool samples. See, now, everyone in Elmo might not be so quick to hook Marin up with Jack if they knew how much time he spent around poo. Annie adds that he's taking the samples the day to a zoo, outside Anchorage, for analysis. Marin's eyes light up: "Anchorage has its own book!" I would make fun, but after a month out in the bush, I would be jonesing so hard to see a movie in a cinema, you don't even know. Glark and I once cut short a long weekend at a cottage in eastern Ontario when we got too bored without TV reception. I'm not better than anyone.
Okay, so Marin's decided to track Jack on the bear trail, gamely fumbling along on a pair of snowshoes only to fall (conveniently) into his arms as soon as she sees him. Marin tries to invite herself along for a trip to Anchorage (though it sounds like Jack wasn't even planning to get any closer to it than the zoo, twenty miles outside). When Jack points out that she has a truck and could drive herself if she was so desperate to go, she says that she would be alone; furthermore, she reminds him that they'd said they were going to be friends, and that this is the sort of thing friends do: "Unless you're not on board with this whole friend thing." Jack promises that he's "totally on board," but suggests that they start slower, like maybe with beers at the Chieftain. Marin wheedles that it'll be fun: "I'm a whiz with the road-trip games." Jack, smiling that special smile he saves for Marin when she's being all crazy, asks if she's serious, and she says it's the perfect way to celebrate this latest chapter in their relationship. Jack is surprised to learn that they have chapters, but she insists that they do: "Chapter 1: Strangers. Chapter 2: Sex. Chapter 3: Friends!" Jack wants to know what Chapter 4 might be, and Marin offers, "Old Friends Looking Back On The Fond Memories Of Our Trip To Anchorage?" Jack chuckles, but says he really doesn't like the city. Marin, more flirtatiously than ever, points to a stump, and says that she'll race him to it. If she wins, he has to drive her to Anchorage. If he wins, she'll cook him a home-cooked meal. "That's a prize?" cracks Jack. Marin defensively says that she cooks, and Jack tosses his backpack and stool samples (hee), saying they're on. Marin counts off way too fast and shoves Jack as she takes off running. Disqualification! Jack nearly catches up to her, but then falls just shy of the finish stump, and Marin wins. Wasn't part of this whole Alaskan experiment that Marin would learn how to be alone sometimes? A solo road trip is not so bad -- in fact, it's kind of fun. You can stop whenever you want, play the stereo as loud as you want, not share your fries at the highway rest areas...she should really give it a shot.
After the commercials, Patrick and Annie are snuggling, post-sex. They agree that what just transpired was "nice," but then Patrick says that it would be even nicer if he stayed over. Dude, I see what you're getting at here, but if you stay at Annie's, who's going to make the muffins at the Inn? Anyway, Annie freezes, and Patrick gets huffy, saying he isn't being impatient: "It's been thirty-eight days." "You've been counting too?" burbles Annie. Patrick coos, "The sleepover is the natural evolution of all things romantic and meant to be." Now, okay, I know their whole deal is that they're two giant dorks who found each other, and we should be happy for them. And I am! But if anyone ever said anything like that to you, wouldn't you...like, run? And change your number? And leave the country? Because that's less cute than it is creepy. "Which one of Marin's books is that from?" says Annie. EXACTLY. Behind her, though, Patrick makes a celebratory face she can't see, and says that he made it up. This is, somehow, the one thing Annie needed to hear to make her mind up, and she rolls over and invites Patrick to stay. Smooching ensues, but then Annie rolls over, staring nervously ahead.
Cut to morning. Annie is lying in bed, eyes still wide open; her solution to her snoring secret was just to stay up all night. Oh, honey. Missing sleep is never the answer. But Patrick wakes up, perfectly refreshed and content. Bitch.
In Jack's SUV, Marin is flipping through her guidebooks in the passenger seat, rejoicing that they're in for a day of big fun: "We're going to go to the Aviation Museum -- you'll like that. Boys like airplanes, right?" She pulls out a camera and gets a shot of Jack behind the wheel. Then, already bored, Marin opens the glove box and starts rifling through it, prompting Jack to inform her of the car rules: "No going through the glove compartment. No Top 40. And anything you find on the floor stays on the floor." Marin puts back whatever red and black plastic thingy she'd found in the glove box and gives him a big "yes sir." She figures this is the perfect time to tell him she got them tickets to the opera that night. And she's probably right -- had she mentioned it beforehand, he might have mysteriously lost his keys. Jack tells her he has no interest in the opera, but Marin says he's never been, and that it'll change his life the way it did hers. Wrong! Opera is the most boring "cultural" activity you can spectate; I'd rather watch modern dance or performance art. The only fun thing about opera is opera glasses. And you can just use those at a basketball game or something. Jack straight-up refuses to go, and Marin tells him it'll be her treat, to thank him for the lift, like otherwise she would have dragged him to this event he had no interest in and made him pay for the privilege. Jack insists that he isn't going, and Marin flirts that she'd think he would be more interested in sharing in his new friend's interests. Jack says that he'll go on the condition that Marin's quiet. She agrees, and then immediately muses that they could have sushi. Jack always gets the short end of the Marin stick. Then again, the Marin stick only has short ends, I think.
Inn. Patrick is taking muffins out of the oven when Ben comes in to return a scarf to Sara. Patrick nosily asks whether she left it at the Chieftain, and Ben's like, "Noooo." Patrick's like, "Oh. Got it. Cool!" Ben tries to leave, but Patrick offers him a muffin for the road, saying that he made them with "extra joy," and then TMI-ing, "There's nothing better than going to bed with your favourite lady, except maybe waking up to her, just having her there all night--" Ben hits the bell on the desk, telling Patrick, "Will you please shut up." Nothing like directness.
At her desk, Annie tries (and fails) to stay awake. It reminds me of a job I used to have where I'd get there at 8, before anyone else and doze at my desk, resting my head on my hand so it hid my eyes and with papers spread out in front of me so it looked like I was working. And then leave at 4. I don't really know how I got away with it. Probably no one cared; they all hated their jobs too. Anyway, Annie finally decides to quit fighting it and just rests her head on the desk, smiling with relief...and falls asleep instantly with a mighty snore. Of course, it is at this moment that Celia walks in, hears the sound, and moves warily toward Annie's desk, probably thinking at first that an angry wolverine must have been caught underneath it somehow. Seeing Annie with her head down on the desk, she studies her a moment with a smug smile, and then slams the phone receiver down a few times, waking Annie with a start. Annie sputters a "good morning," and Celia asks whether Jack knows that Annie sleeps at her desk. Annie denies that she was sleeping, but Celia tells her she was out cold: "I think they heard you down at the dock." Annie's eyes widen in horror: "Oh. NO!" "Oh yes," Celia smirks. Annie asks how bad it was, and Celia tells her it was "off the charts," and that she's never heard a sound like that before: "Not from a human, anyway." Annie tiptoes over to Celia at the counter, quavering that she won't tell Patrick. Celia calculatingly says that she's not too crazy about keeping secrets from her son, and that Patrick is "highly sensitive in the audio department -- can't tolerate loud noises." Annie asks if there wasn't anything cute or endearing about her snoring, and gets a big fat no. And rightly so. God, it's the worst. There's no white-noise machine loud enough to drown that shit out.
In Anchorage, Jack and Marin enjoy lattes -- Marin particularly enjoys the fact that Anchorage features competing coffee outlets. Jack stops at a hot dog stand and orders one with the works, telling Marin that he lived on them when he went to college in Anchorage. He offers her a bite, and she asks if she has to. He says she doesn't, but that he didn't have to drive her to Anchorage, either. Guy, who fights to share food? (Sorry...I'm a bit Joey about that.) Marin relents and takes a big bite of Jack's substitute phallus. Then there's some back-and-forth about Jack renting a tuxedo so that he'll look appropriate when she wears some fancy dress she's had in mothballs. He says that he draws the line at a "monkey suit." Marin comments that he draws a lot of lines, and he retorts that she keeps trying to cross them all. Marin asks how they're supposed to get to know each other, then, and Jack, amused, asks if that's what they're doing there. Marin says they are, "one line at a time." Starting with Marin's line of bullshit as usual.
Theresa and Ben are walking down the street outside the police department when she asks what he did the night. "Nothing," lies Ben, and Theresa says she knows about him and Sara. Ben squints at her, but she says it's cool, and asks, "Do you like her?" Ben says that he's not comfortable discussing that with Theresa, but she wheedles that they're still friends: "Friends who are married. And living together. And dating other people." By the end of her line, she's chuckling at the absurdity of the situation. Ben laconically says he feels like he can't bring Sara to the house. Theresa doesn't know why not: "I've brought guys to the house." Ben snickers that that's been really great for him. Theresa sighs, because it's hard to be reminded of times when you were kind of a dick.
Ben and Theresa let themselves into the kitchen at the Chieftain, only to be greeted by some loud banging out on the floor. Theresa quietly asks if Ben forgot to lock up the night before, but Ben says he didn't. They quietly walk through the kitchen and out behind the bar, which is when they spot the caribou wandering around, having lain waste to the furniture for a while already. Seeing them, she starts rumbling ominously. And the fact is that the rumbling's a lot quieter than Annie's snoring.
After the commercials, the caribou is still chilling over by the pool table. It hasn't stopped patrons from showing up, though, apparently, and Theresa's still serving drinks and clearing tables as the guys stand around, warily watching the caribou while they get their beer on. That's dedication! Ben tells Theresa not to move too quickly, because she doesn't want to spook the caribou. She asks what they should do, and he shrugs that they could call Jack. "Jack and Marin are in Anchorage," says Theresa, as if Marin was going to be his second choice to deal with the situation -- perhaps by hooking the caribou up with an eligible mate. Celia comes in and nods at the caribou, sniffing, "Someone's angry." Her first course of action is to give Ben a ticket for keeping a wild animal as a pet. Well, that's helpful. See, Jack? This is why you need a cell phone! Before Ben can protest, Jerome appears between him and Theresa, rifle in hand, explaining as he cocks it that he's never bagged a caribou before. Not too sporting of him to take aim when the caribou is basically caged, but maybe we should just be grateful he's not going after it with a bazooka or something. Celia takes the rifle from Jerome, who crabs that the caribou is contributing to an unsafe drinking environment. "People!" Celia snaps. "This is not the wild west! This is the unincorporated town of Elmo, Alaska. And if that animal is not out of this bar by tonight, I'm calling in the feds." She turns to go, and when Jerome says he'd like his rifle back, Celia replies that she'd like her "perky butt" back, too: "Not gonna happen." Eh, her ass looks fine to me. The uniform pants don't do it any favours.
In Anchorage, Marin has prevailed upon Jack to rent a tuxedo after all, and the two are making a grand entrance at the opera, while a string quartet plays in the lobby. Marin says that he looks nice in his formalwear, and he stops at a mirror to get a load of himself, preening, "I do, don't I?" Marin appreciatively notes, "Big City Jack isn't as humble as Country Jack." Jack jokes that he needs a monocle, and maybe a top hat, and Marin suggests that they start with a drink and work their way up to a monocle. She excitedly orders a Vodka Negroni, and Jack asks for a beer, asking if that's okay with Marin. She says it is, and even changes her order, asking for two bottles of beer. The bartender flatly informs them, "This is the opera. We don't serve beer in bottles." "Oh, funny -- 'cause you do serve attitude," Marin shoots back. Jack comments, "The city makes you feisty!" They clink their beers, and then Jack kind of strains at his collar, saying that it's hot in there. Marin says that it must be al the people, and that she misses crowds, "well-dressed, fashionable crowds!" Glancing around, she notices a smoking porch, and hurries to it, Jack in tow.
At her apartment, Annie and Patrick are mid-foreplay, still in their clothes. When we join them, she's straddling him, kissing, and then he rolls her onto her back and makes with the canoodling, only as soon as she's on her back, her head lolls to the side and she passes out, exhausted. Patrick is dismayed suddenly to be getting his swerve on with an apparent narcoleptic, and shakes her awake, complaining that she's supposed to fall asleep after they have sex, not during. Annie lies that she was just resting her eyes, but it's too late; Patrick's confidence is gone. Annie nervously asks how long she was out, and Patrick guesses that it was five seconds or so. He sits up, flustered, telling her that she's made him feel like "the anti-stud." Annie sits up too, trying to reassure him that he's wonderful, and that she's just-- "Tired," says Patrick, dubiously. He shrugs that he gets it, and leaves. Annie is dismayed that her horrible secret has come between them already. And that she now lives so far in the sticks that she can't buy this.
Back at the opera, Marin's high from smelling all the tobacco on the smoking balcony. She and Jack head over to a little table to set down their drinks, where she thanks him for coming with her to the opera, admitting that she knows it wasn't his first choice as to how to spend an evening. Jack says he's pretty sure it wouldn't have cracked his top 20, and they chuckle, though his quickly turns to a dry cough. Marin, suspicious, asks if he's faking sick to try to get out of the actual performance. He struggles a little to get a breath, which Marin dubs his "Please Don't Make Me Go To The Opera" cough. Marin says she knows, because she developed the same affliction before her first opera, but then she went and loved it. Jack laughs that he's fine, and Marin says that's good, because he'd have to do a lot better than that. This somehow does not segue to a shot of Jack sawing his hand off in the bathroom.
Sara lets herself in to the kitchen at the Chieftain, where she is met by a sour-looking Theresa. Sara uncomfortably says that she was looking for Ben, and Theresa coldly says that he's out front, making friends with a caribou. Sara peeks through the pass-through to see, smiling, and Theresa decides to make small talk: "So. You and Ben." "Yeah," agrees Sara, smiling stiffly. "Me and Ben." She looks like she actually means it when she asks, "Are you okay with that?" Theresa says that she just doesn't want Ben to get hurt. Sara fleetingly makes a face. Theresa's like, "What." "Now you're worried about Ben getting hurt?" says Sara frankly. Theresa evenly replies, "What Ben and I have is complicated, but we care about each other." "I care about Ben," says Sara. "Good," says Theresa. "Good," Sara agrees. She asks Theresa to tell Ben that Sara will come back later, and leaves before Theresa's mood goes from scary calm to just plain scary.
Opera. The house is making the muted "ding"s to let the patrons know it's time to go sit down, and Marin jokingly asks Jack if they should try to take their beers in with them. Jack's response is another dry cough, now accompanied by some wheezing. She asks what his deal is, and he tries to play it off like he's fine, but she can tell that he isn't, and he quickly admits that she's right. Marin hustles Jack toward the door as he tells her he's having an asthma attack. Hope that whiff of the smoking porch was worth it, Marin.
At a hospital, Jack is waiting in the hallway, perched on a gurney with his bowtie undone, while Marin complains that it's taking so long for him to be seen: "This is Anchorage, not New York. No one's been pushed in front of a subway!" Only Marin would be chauvinistic about New York being more dangerous to live in than Anchorage. The crisis in Darfur must be giving her a real inferiority complex. Anyway, a couple of doctors show Jack into an exam room, Marin following heedlessly. One asks if she's Jack's wife, and she says she's his friend. The doctor says that only immediate family members are permitted, and Marin lies, "You don't understand -- we're very close!" Really, Marin? What colour hair does Lynn have? Thought so. Park it in the waiting room and become one with the four-month-old Reader's Digest. But Marin can't help herself: "I mean, not [close] in that way, but we could be, not that I want that--" "MA'AM," the doctor interrupts. "This is a hospital, not a confessional." Seriously -- shut up, Marin. But then a voice is telling the doctor it's okay: "She's with me." Hey! It's Jack's brother, Ian, smirking smugly. Marin, for some reason, looks surprised that Jack's brother, who she knows lives in Anchorage, would be present for Jack's medical emergency...
...which point Ian kindly makes for me after the commercials: he's Jack's emergency contact, and lives ten blocks away. As they stand at the foot of Jack's bed (in which the man himself is dozing), Ian asks what Marin's excuse is for being there. She tells him that she and Jack were at the opera: "That worked out well." Let that be a lesson to you, Marin -- you can tell this story to the poor chump to illustrate what made you stop going to the opera altogether. She asks if Jack will be okay, and Ian says that he's just sleeping off the medication. They nod at each other, and Marin says that she was worried. I think Ian might be worried that the clasps on Marin's formal coat look so much like razor blades, but what he actually says, pointedly, is that Anchorage is a long way to come for a date. Marin tells him what the rest of Alaska already knows -- that she and Jack aren't dating, but friends -- and Ian smiles that Jack doesn't usually put on tuxedos for his friends. Maybe he should -- it would class up the Chieftain, raise expectations on everyone else there. I for one would like to see Jerome in a white dinner jacket. Marin flirts, "Believe it or not, that's all we are." Cut to Jack, his eyes fluttering open, as Ian clarifies that Marin's arrangement with Jack leaves Ian the option of asking her out. We get Jack's view of the proceedings as Marin warmly and unconvincingly demurs that it would be weird if he did. Jack, in bed, is sort of frowning as Ian presses: "Why?" Marin: "Because you're brothers, and one of you is currently passed out?" "So he can't put up a fight!" whispers Ian, joking but not really because he's kind of That Guy. To end this line of discussion, Jack, his eyes closed again, loudly clears his throat, drawing their attention to him and away from each other. She asks if he's okay. "Hey, bro," smarms That Guy.
At the Chieftain, Ben sets a bowl of water on the floor for the caribou, whom I'm going to call Boo from now on, for short. Sara comes in just as Boo makes her way over to the bowl; Ben warns Sara to stay back, and as Boo takes a few slurps of water, Sara whispers that it's one way to go: "Giving her water so she's forced to take a pee break." Ben says that he just doesn't want her to get dehydrated. "How about hydrating your regulars?" crabs Jerome from the bar, jiggling his empty mug. Ben ignores him, and Sara asks if he has a second to talk. He points to the caribou and the drunk currently occupying him: "You get a moose who can cook and the place runs itself." What? Never mind: Sara laughs, and once Ben's led her to a caribou-safe booth, she tells him that she's set up a sleepover for Matt, her son, so she and Ben will have the house to themselves. Ben pops a boner at this: "Seriously? The whole night together, with no gearshifts or incarcerations?" Hey, don't rule out the possibility of something extra-special -- she is a pro. Sara laughs, Ben is pleased, and she tells him to save the date: "Three Saturdays from now." Ben's like, "Jigga-when?" She says that's the soonest she can make it happen. Really? How overbooked are Elmo's parents that none of Matt's friends' parents can hook a sister up? Maybe she is despised for all the prostituting. Ben says he knows she's doing her best: "It's just a screwy situation." Boo lets out another groan, and Sara and Ben turn to see her pacing a tight circle. "Are you sure you have room for me in your life?" Sara Marins. Ben very seriously tells Sara that she gives him something he hasn't had in a very long time, from Theresa. Blowjobs? I HAD TO. "Sex?" says Sara. Oh, grow up. Ben admits that that's part of it, but adds, "Also, a real friendship, where I don't feel like I'm constantly letting you down, or being judged." Sara says that she loves their friendship: "But when I start to think of it as something more, that's when it starts to let me down." Ben, sighing, asks what she wants. Sara simply says she doesn't know how Ben can just be friends with the woman he married. "I'm trying," says Ben lamely. Guy, you can't have everyone like you all the time. Theresa already screwed you over. It's okay to stop making decisions with her in mind. "You're a good guy, Ben," says Sara. "A caribou has basically shut down your business, and you still want to make sure she's not thirsty. I just don't want to get hurt by trying to make everyone else happy." Wow, Sara and I are so on the same wave today! Ben exhales loudly and nods, because he knows she's right. Sara grabs her bag and takes off.
At the hospital, the doctor pulls back the curtain as Jack is putting his shirt back on; the latter reports that he's feeling much better. Marin asks the doctor if Jack's going to be okay: "I know I'm not the wife, but I can ask, right?" The doctor says he'll be fine, and tells Jack that he had an "extrinsic asthma attack, triggered by environmental allergens." Ooh, I know this one: the rented tuxedo had been used in a funeral and was laced with formaldehyde? Or there were thousands of baby spiders in the breast pocket that bit him? Jack says that the city air does that to him sometimes. Eh, boring. Marin, dismayed, asks why Jack didn't tell her that. Because, like Ben, he was trying to be nice, against his own interests? He says he didn't want to ruin her trip. "Our trip," she says, upset. The doctor says that smoking doesn't help. Jack says he doesn't smoke, but the doctor says he reeks of tobacco, and Marin's like, "Eek, smoking patio. My bad." She apologizes for being an "awful, awful person," and Ian cracks, "So, you almost killed him. Nice." Jack lets out one mirthless chuckle, and tells Marin it's okay. But the doctor decides to pull focus from Marin and Jack's nice make-up by saying he's more concerned about "this": he points to an x-ray of Jack's chest, indicating a bullet lodged way up in there. Marin's like, "The hell?" Sure, Marin. You're entitled to know all his secrets. You have known him five whole weeks.
At a coffee shop with both the Slattery boys, Marin demands that they tell her what happened. Jack, reluctantly, starts the story, saying that he and his dad were camping when a black bear came after Jack: "My dad shot at it, but he got me instead." Boy, there sure isn't a card for that. But maybe Pop Slattery somehow figured out a way to weasel out of making a great big apology. Let's listen and find out! Marin's horrified. Jack says he's fine, but Marin orders him, "Stop with the 'fine' -- you have a bullet in your chest, for crying out loud!" "That bear mauled my dad," says Jack, in a way destined to make Marin feel really bad. Marin's gobsmacked, and Ian cavalierly confirms that their dad died from his injuries. It's why bears are the #1 threat, people. And PS to Marin: that seldom happens in New York, I'm guessing. Marin starts to get all solicitous about Ian's health, but Jack curtly says that Ian wasn't there, which Ian confirms, saying he wasn't much of a camper. And this whole thing probably didn't make him more of one. Ian says he's more of a city guy, and Jack says that Ian left for Anchorage as soon as he had finished high school, "and never looked back." Ian says that Jack's just "pissed" that Ian didn't stay around, and Jack snaps, "I'm not pissed. Just telling a story." Ian tells Marin that the city was a relief: "I'd had enough wilderness tragedy." "You weren't even there," says Jack icily. But before the intra-Slattery scrap can escalate, Jack turns to Marin to explain that the bullet was too close to his heart to remove. "So you live with it," says Marin, storing the anecdote away to be mined for metaphors in a later book chapter. Jack says that he doesn't have a choice. Marin shakes her head, annoyed that she's learning all about Jack's glamorously tragic past at a time when she's too messed up herself to really let herself fall for him.
Avoiding the girlfriend he thinks doesn't find him attractive, Patrick has run straight to the woman who finds him completely perfect: his mommy. He and Celia are sitting together on an ugly loveseat. He's stiff, clearly distracted, but Celia's eating popcorn and having a grand old time: "Oh, those Wayans boys kill me! They really do look like women, huh?" Maybe what we've seen pass for women in Elmo, they do. Celia notices Patrick's lack of engagement and reminds him that he loved the movie the last time they "screened it." Ha! Calling it "screening" when what you're watching is White Chicks is such a hilarious character detail. Celia asks if the popcorn is insufficiently buttered, and pokes Patrick, trying to jolly him along as she tells him he loves Movie Night. Patrick sadly says that he was supposed to be with Annie that night. Celia can't hide her smile as she hopefully asks whether they're having problems. Patrick says that he doesn't think Annie's into him, and Celia declares, "Never liked her." Too soon! He'll remember that when they totally don't break up! Rookie mistake, Celia! "Mom, we're not breaking up," says Patrick bitterly. SEE?! He says that they're just having "growing pains," but that they'll work it out. Celia, with faux-reluctance, says she's not sure they can. He asks what she means, and she takes a moment before imitating Annie's snore with ear-splitting accuracy. He asks what she's doing, and she says that Annie's snoring is worse than Patrick's poor yappy, now-dead childhood pet dog. Patrick asks how Celia knows, and she tells him that she heard Annie snoring at the office today. She makes with the per-snore-mance (sorry) again, and Patrick irritably tells her to stop. Celia says that she will: "But I don't know if [Annie] can." Patrick asks why Annie wouldn't have told him about her adenoid problem, and Celia says that Annie must know Patrick couldn't live with it. This has given Patrick a lot to think about. Like where he could buy really effective earplugs at this time of night.
At the coffee shop, Marin gets a refill, and asks Jack whether he feels better. He says that food helps, but adds that they should get on the road. I don't think Jack is necessarily up for the drive, but I'm guessing that handing Marin, with her month-old driver's license, the keys to his car isn't going to make his chest feel any less tight. Ian, perhaps reading his mind, suggests that they stay over. Jack hesitates a long moment, giving Ian an opening to convince Marin by telling her that they can see some museums the day. Plural! Imagine! Marin's eyes flash like she's all over that action, but she immediately looks to Jack for his answer. Ian tells Jack they'll make sure to get his inhaler, but Jack curtly says he doesn't need one, and asks for the cheque. Marin smiles regretfully, and Ian tells her she's welcome any time: "I have a spare room." She nods, watching Jack, at which Ian adds, "You too, Jack," as an afterthought. Jack looks like a return trip to Anchorage is not among his plans for even the distant future.
Chieftain. Jerome's still at the bar when Ben comes around to sit on a stool to him, contemplating Boo in defeat. Seriously, I know the expert's out of town, but no one thought to just hold the front door open and wait for Boo to find her way out? Anyway, Jerome drawls, "I just don't know how long we can keep ignoring the caribou in the room." Ben winces at the lame-ass joke: "How long've you been sitting on that one, Jerome?" Hee. Jerome admits that it's been a while now, but that he isn't talking about Boo: "I'm talking about your messed-up lady situation." Instead of asking what the hell Jerome the librarian whisperer would know from lady situations, Ben says that he's trying to handle it carefully. Read: wussily. Jerome sums it up: "You've got one lady walking out on you, another lady walking all over you, a caribou that's going nowhere...." Ben pissily says that if he wants advice, he'll ask for it. "You sure about that?" asks Jerome. "I've had twelve beers tonight, and I'm seeing things clearer than you are." Twelve? My God, that man's liver must be the size of a suitcase. Theresa comes out of the kitchen and suggests that they call the park rangers: "We can't let the caribou stay here all night." But Ben thinks they're still speaking metaphorically and determinedly says, "You're right." He gets up and starts unbuckling his belt. Theresa asks what he's doing. "Something I should've done from the very start," Ben action-movies. "Setting her free. She doesn't belong here and she knows it." "Then why doesn't she leave?" asks Theresa sadly. 'Cause she's a freeloader? She likes playing mind games with Ben? She's cheap? She hates to pack? ...Who are we talking about? Ben's looped the end of the belt through the buckle to create a makeshift leash, and as he puts it around Boo's neck, Ben answers Theresa's question: "Because she's been waiting for me to wake up." Ben gently leads Boo to the door and lets her out, gracefully unlooping his belt. Theresa understands how, since Marin came to town, everyone has to speak in portentous subtext, and starts thinking how many liquor boxes she can steal from the bar to pack her stuff in.
At the coffee shop, the cheque arrives. The Slattery brothers immediately start fighting over it, and Marin, without so much as a token reach, says she's going to leave before it gets ugly. She pushes her chair back, and both men chivalrously stand up. Geez, how come none of the dudes I know have nice manners like that? Is this something people only do on TV anymore, or do I just hang out with a bunch of cavemen? Anyway, even Marin is taken aback by this courtly display, and responds the only right way: by taking off to drop a deuce. Once she's gone, the dudes sit down again, and Ian asks what's going on with Jack and Marin. Say it with me now: nothing is. "Good," says Ian eventually. Getting territorial, Jack advises his statement to say that he and Marin slept together, if that's what Ian's asking. "According to her, you're just friends," shrugs Ian, and Jack says, "That's...what we are right now." "Oh," says Ian, bummed. "So it wasn't any good?" Ew. "No, it was great," Jack tells him, disgusted. Like everyone else in the state of Alaska, Ian doesn't get it, and just asks Jack, point-blank, "Are you into her or not?" Gruffly, Jack tells him the bottom line: "Just stay away from her, all right?" "Are you asking or telling?" dicks Ian. Jack says that Marin doesn't need Ian in her life right now. Ian asks, "You don't want her, but no one else can have her -- is that it?" Jack shakes his head, sadly, and Ian gets out his wallet, crabbily saying he doesn't blame Jack: "She is hot." Eh. The hotness is mitigated quite a lot by how irritating she is, not that anyone asked me. "Don't go there, man," warns Jack. Ian presses his point, Jack cautions him again to stow it, and Ian finally can't help himself: "She is one hot piece of ass." Ian straightens up, staring daggers at his brother...
...and then Marin's coming out of the john to find Jack and Ian rolling around on the floor, all Colin Firth and Hugh Grant from Bridget Jones's Diary (the first, good one, not the shitty sequel). Several patrons and kitchen staff pull the boys apart, huffing and glaring. Over Marin? I know y'all are hard-up in Alaska, but spending a whole day with her talking at you would surely drive you to throw her at a bear.
Chieftain. Theresa's doing...something in the kitchen when Ben comes in. She gives him a big smile, and flirtatiously tells him he did a good job setting Boo free: "Didn't know you had it in you." Ben's like, "About that...." After a long pause to steel himself for it, Ben tells Theresa he wants her to move out. He quickly leaves before there can be any discussion about it, leaving Theresa to bite her lip and think about his 800-thread count sheets.
Jack drives. I knew he wouldn't let her! Marin asks Jack to tell her what Ian said, but Jack refuses. She chuckles that it couldn't be that bad, but Jack simply says, "No." Marin tries cute begging, and it actually works, as Jack repeats what Ian called her. "And you beat him up for that?" marvels Marin. Dude, I know! If I heard someone had called me that, I'd be kind of psyched about it. Which probably makes me a bad feminist, but I don't care. "Yeah, I did," says Jack simply. Marin smiles, and tells Jack that, for the record, most women don't mind being called that. Oh shit, if Marin agrees with me, I might have to revise my position. "Thanks for telling me that now," deadpans Jack. She giggles, asking if Jack doesn't think she's a "hot piece of hiney," and I think it's Anne Heche, not Marin, who can't get out that dopey, Andy Griffith-y line without cracking up. Jack also laughs, but tells her, "I think that he was being a jerk, okay?" Marin sincerely thanks him for standing up for her, and for going to the opera. Eh, he got the best parts -- dressing up and drinking. Jack thanks her back, for taking him to the hospital. Reminded of that whole thing, she irritably asks why he didn't tell her he had asthma. He asks if he's supposed to tell her everything about himself. Marin: "Favourite colour, no. Bullet in the chest, maybe." Also there's that whole thing where maybe she wouldn't have suggested a trip to the smoking balcony if she'd known YOU HAD ASTHMA. Sometimes we bring heartache on ourselves, Mountain Man! Jack doesn't seem to think that requires a response, so Marin tells him, "I'm so sorry about what happened with your father." This simple, straightforward expression of sympathy really seems to affect Jack, and after a moment, he answers, "It's funny, you know -- it's almost comforting. To have the bullet there." "So close to your heart," says Marin, still thinking how she can weave this metaphor into her stupid book. "Yeah," says Jack mournfully. He adds that he's sorry they didn't get to go to the opera, even though he isn't, probably. Marin says she's just glad he's okay. "Hey," says Jack. "I think we just made it to Chapter 4." Marin smiles, and then they laugh. Friend zone! They're in it. (For now.)
Annie opens the door to her apartment to see Patrick standing there, a plastic container in his hands. She gives him a big "hi," sounding relieved, and asks what he has with him. "You promise you won't laugh?" he asks. Looking somewhat alarmed, she agrees. Turns out it's his retainer; he's supposed to wear it every night. Annie says that he didn't have it the other night. He says that he was embarrassed, and then he takes it out, and we see why -- it's not just a retainer, but headgear and the whole bit. The saddest detail is that the strap that goes across the back of his head is striped, like someone (probably his mom) thought it would be less humiliating for him to wear it if it had a jaunty pattern. But once Patrick's put it on, we can see that nothing could make this thing any less humiliating. Maybe a strap that went over the top of his head; do they make those anymore? Annie's face falls: "Did your mom tell you about me?" Patrick, around his ridiculous headgear, says he doesn't care what Celia said: "I'm going to love your snoring." Ohhhh, no you're not. Annie, tortured, says that Patrick has no idea, but he says he wants to know -- he wants them to know everything about each other, good and bad. She finally agrees, and goes in for a kiss, whereupon they learn that the retainer is not so conducive to that.
Over Louis Armstrong's "A Kiss To Build A Dream On," we pan across the mess Marin's made of Jack's kitchen to make him his promised home-cooked meal. Jack takes a bite and reacts with surprise that it's good. Marin says it's "Marin Marinara" (okay, heh), made special with a little truffle oil imported from Anchorage. Jack says he supposes city girls can cook, and she says she's glad to have someone to cook for. Er, and a kitchen to cook in, Eloise. Jack leans over his plate and tells Marin, "Thanks." She shrugs it off, and Jack explains, "I mean, you know, for coming home with me. I know Anchorage has a lot of appeal." Marin nods seriously: "Turns out Elmo has a lot of appeal, too. But if you really want to thank me--" "No more opera," says Jack immediately, like he's still having night terrors from the limited exposure he's had to it. What Marin actually wants is to make Jack her emergency contact, since all her other names are in New York. Jack, seeming moved, agrees: "That's what friends do, right?" Marin smiles.
Marin's voice-over takes it home: "Friendship between a man and a woman is complicated -- especially if they've shared something more." Theresa packs her car as she leaves Ben's. "There are times when love can be stronger and even more rewarding if it's built on a foundation of a really great friendship." In bed, Annie snores; Patrick, with his retainer, wakes up with a grin and fastens his earflap hat on his head. "But wherever it's headed, wherever it's been, being just friends doesn't have to mean settling for something less." At Jack's, Marin gets two bottles of beer from the fridge, brings Jack his, and clinks hers on it. "Sometimes, it can be the brass ring after all." She sits, and they drink their beer right from the bottle, like a couple of common stevedores. Marin, this is how it starts. You'll be scratching your balls with your keys in no time.