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Coop thinks it's a good idea to tell Sam about sleeping with his girlfriend, which is not true, and Sam thinks it's a good idea to punch Coop in the nose, which is always true. Coop tries to get Sam fired, but Gloria's not going for it, and then presents him with a bill for the six weeks of the Face of All Saints campaign, just like he wanted.
Meanwhile, Sam goes on a bender that ends up with Jackie taking him down to the basement and literally tap-dancing, with Thor, to keep Sam awake and alive. That was beautiful -- as was Eleanor and Jackie's no-tears reconciliation, which takes the form of Eleanor agreeing, against her better judgment, that Jackie's pain management regimen is her own deal. You can actually see Jackie relax at the thought of telling somebody even one-tenth of the secrets.
Lenny and Zoey finally get it together, which is sort of lovely and sweet, and Gloria finds God hiding in the rafters over Emergency. God is very clear about Jackie's posh mugging victim -- that he's not one of the flock -- which is proven true when he menaces Jackie out in the hallway. Thor tackles him adorably, which makes Thor two for two this week. And Eddie seems firmly comfortable being back in the hospital, offering advice and finally acting like a true friend again to Jackie (and Kevin!). In some ways they seem to have the most honest relationship of all.
But what about Jackie? Well, Kevin eventually calls Eddie for help after Jackie drives off and abandons him in the wilderness. They talk about the money issue and Kevin calms down, but then immediately finds the PO box key and thus, the serious pharmaceutical bills she's been hiding. He calls Eleanor -- I know! -- and they hold a little intervention in Queens. There's the usual nastiness, with a truly shitty song playing, and Jackie imagines for a moment saying "I'm Jackie and I'm a drug addict" ... And then laughs her ass off at the very thought. It's the most touching, and bad-ass, and awful moment of the season, bitter and sour and sweet all at once, and thus a perfect image to end things on.
Well, it's nice that the rats in the ceiling are now God, it's always nice to see him. And as a finale, and cliffhanger, it's awesome. But I wouldn't hold your breath for seeing any huge changes for Jackie year. I think she's got us on lock, which is after all the genius of the show. Mostly I'm just glad that she was able to be honest with Eleanor, to the degree she can be honest with anybody; I'm glad somebody actually told her what she was, so she can at least suck on the idea for awhile; and, as surprised as I am to say it, I'm glad Kevin finally manned up. His complicity in her bullshit has been made so clear this year that it almost feels like he's taking one for the team just looking at this shit for himself. Not to mention the fact that, between last week and this newest catharsis, Grace might finally get a chance to breathe. Very, very exciting end to a much stronger season, and promises a third year that will be out of this world.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Last week, we left those irrepressible Peytons stranded on the side of the road. Daddy was walking it off, because he was mad that Mommy took the money from Eleanor to put Fiona in private school. Mommy couldn't really deal with that, because she was in withdrawal from how she's addicted to drugs and had to cut the vacation short.
Well, Jackie's still yelling at Kevin to get back in the car, and the girls are freaking out. Particularly Grace, due to how she's freaky anyway. Jackie edges up alongside him, pacing him while he walks, and Kevin says he refuses to get in an "enclosed space" with Jackie, and Fiona suggests that he get in back with them, since apparently in the backseat you don't need seatbelts. Jackie lies, as usual, about how this is just like a fun thing Mommy and Daddy like to do, and Kevin truths, as usual, that Fiona is accurate in her assessment (as usual) that he's having a tantrum. Jackie -- because honestly, how much do you put up with, regardless of your drug addiction, with this kind of shit -- finally just hits the gas.
Hours or minutes later, Jackie's feeling mighty fine in the kitchen, bug-eyed staring at Kevin as he comes in with no intent to chat. Her eyes bug out twice as hard when Eddie follows him in, having picked up Kevin on his motorcycle because he is the only person anybody knows in the entire world. "Tell me you didn't fucking say anything," Jackie hisses like a lunatic, and he's grossed out. "Thank you would've been cool," he guilts her, but there is no guilt in Jackie Peyton. Just staring and occasional vibrating.
Kevin's like, "I can't believe you left me on the side of the road." She agrees that it was fucked up. She tries to tell him why she took the money, and as though he knows it's a lie, he tells her to shut up. "You're right. I'm not here, not in the way you are. When they fall down, they run to you. There are days when I look at them and I think, you know, What the fuck? I gave birth to you." A few tears, at this point. "And I fucking hate myself for being so selfish, and for being competitive. You keep saying we don't need anybody's help, we're fine, but I don't have the peace of mind that you do, Kevin. And I'm fucking jealous that you can sleep at night."
All true. What's awesome about Jackie is that even when she's lying, she's not really lying. I mean, I think that in her head she took that money for the reasons she's saying, and just sort of refuses to put the pieces together of how she needed that money to pay off her egregious pharmacy drug-seeking expenses. I think it's been difficult for me to acknowledge how much denial goes into this story, because it's so unrecognizable. It seems inhuman to me that you could live this close to the surface.
Not that I'm an incredibly honest person, just that I don't have the smoothness or discipline necessary to stick to my story like Jackie does. But the most awesome thing about Jackie is Edie Falco, who somehow is able to play this liar-truth-liar-truth thing for every single layer.
Kevin asks if she always knew she'd eventually take it, and it's a sign of their intimacy that he knows to look at her face and go, "Think," before she answers. Later on she'll talk about how Eddie knows her so incredibly well, but I think this is proof that Kevin knows her just as well. She looks him in the eye and says that of course she pretended to consult him, but that he also needs to be honest and admit that he also knew she was doing that. A different kind of manipulation but just as strong.
He swears it never occurred to him, which is a nice line, but given that he's turned every conversation about everything into a conversation about this, all season long, sort of belies that statement. But of course, his denial is confusing too. She gives him a facial response that works like a reward for that, for saying that, like he's earned the right to forgive her. Which will work, because Kevin wants everything to be okay, all the time, which is why she will always win.
"I keep telling you I'm no prize," she says, "And you won't listen!" Which is, for an addict, the most manipulative way to play it, because it's putting the entirety of the responsibility on the other person. But it's answering a question that wasn't asked, because what she hears is an accusation that she's a terrible person -- and therefore untrustworthy, and therefore under suspicion, which means they might start prying into the drugs, which is a problem because then: No drugs -- so if she can beat him to the punch, he has no options but to drop it. What, like he's gonna say "Yeah, but I didn't think you were that terrible." If she says it first, he has to forgive her.
She throws herself on him, and he stares at the wall. "Is that everything?" And when she says it is, he finally hugs her back.
morning Jackie's feeling great: All her pieces are back together. Her drugs, her husband, job's okay, she's ready to face the day. Back home, Grace lets him know she was awake when he came home with Eddie, and he promises her it's okay. Fiona finds Jackie's keys in the door -- from last night, when she was in such a hurry to get to the drugs -- and both girls wig out a little bit about how they could have been robbed or attacked. Kevin says he would have protected them, and Grace points out that he wasn't there. "You guys are so smart," he says, because what do you do? It doesn't really chill Grace out too much, but Fiona's easy. He notices the key to the post office box, and gets all suspicious again.
At work, Zoey asks if she can get some advice from Jackie, and completely ignores the very audible "No." She produces a shiny pocket watch, flipping it open: A gift for Lenny. Too much? "Yes, if you just want to be friends. No, if thanking him for years of service." Heh. Zoey admits that she's upset because she saw it, and thought of him, and bought it, and what does it mean, and then she makes a sort of zombie noise and wanders away again, clearly too involved in her situation to really work up a full load of bugging Jackie about it.
Sam comes in looking rough and sick, and Coop appears out of nowhere to tell him he's dodged "the world's biggest bullet." Oh, Fitch Cooper, do not. "All that tie-dye hippy everyone-is-equal shit, it's all for show. She wants to be a doctor's wife, pretty much said it out loud. And that fucking cat..." Coop, no. This is why the cool guys hate you. Because you are weird and way too into what they think. Sam deduces from the clues that Coop has laid out for him on the table -- Dr. Cooper, in her apartment, with the dander allergies -- and is amazed by the way Coop seems to think this is a man-bonding experience for them. As he should be, because it's amazing.
"Why would you want to be with someone who has a thing for doctors? You're a nurse. You deserve better." Boom goes the dynamite. It's sort of a shame only one person gets to punch Fitch Coop each week.
Kevin goes through all the stuff in the house, looking for a paper trail to the post office place, and finally finds a matching payment envelope in her jacket pocket.
While O'Hara patches up Coop's nose once again, he bitches at Jackie for being less gentle. Eleanor is not even registering old Jackie, not today. Coop whines about how he's going to "fire" Sam and bemoans the immaturity of people. "Yep, firing Sam would be very grown-up on your part," Eleanor says, and finishes with the bandages, leaving without a word. Coop screams about how people need to mind their own business when Zoey comes to see his nose, and Eleanor loudly agrees, leaning against the doorpost.
Jackie finally mans up and approaches Eleanor, apologizing for hanging up on her last night. "I figured you'd rather talk in person anyway, it seemed important." Eleanor admits she actually would have preferred to talk about this on the phone, which is just honest and heartbreaking. She still can't look at her. "I went up to Ortho, Jackie." She takes off; Jackie doesn't move. Something's moving in the ceiling.
Lenny appears at Admitting with a couple of eggrolls, which he slides to Zoey under the glass. "What, no duck sauce?" He pulls out two packets from one cargo pocket, and two from another, and a big pile from the last. Like a magician, like Chaplin. Then a napkin, placed square to the paper plate. Zoey finally drags Lenny to the on-call room, and commences making
out with him. Eddie almost immediately walks in on them, and she's gone without a look back before Lenny can even sit up on the cot; he introduces himself to Eddie, who thinks about the old times.
Gloria roams the halls, sniffing the air. Somebody's smoking.
They haven't fixed the Virgin Mary, from the time that dude shot her. Eleanor walks by, gets a nervous call from Jackie; she lies that she's in her office and tries to be breezy. Jackie snorts, leaning against the wall in a back pew. "God, you are a worse liar than I am. You're in the old hallway. I can hear your heels all the way from the chapel." Eleanor almost snorts. "Don't tell me you've been reduced to prayer!" Jackie admits she's close, and Eleanor enters the chapel. They hang up their phones and she sits. "Kevin left me last night."
"He's back in the house now," Jackie admits after a beat. "And I knew I was fucking up with you." So that explains the phone calls, insofar as can be expected, but will she come clean about anything else? Of course not. Let's make it Eleanor's fault. "Look, I tried to tell you I did not want an MRI." Eleanor nods. "You're afraid to see the damage. I remember." Jackie admits something she's not ever admitted, and it's sort of amazing: "I'm more afraid of seeing that there's nothing wrong with me. I mean, there's plenty wrong with me..."
Eleanor can put the pieces together, and so she does. "I never lied about the pain," Jackie swears, and Eleanor agrees to that. "And how you manage the pain is a private matter." Jackie apologizes for pulling her into it, but that's still not the problem. How on earth do you say, "I falsified lab results so you would give me drugs" and have it come off where you are both heroes? I don't know, but if anybody could do it...
"Well, it probably doesn't help that I'm shoving checks in your purse and telling you to get MRIs and generally... Looking the other way, but honestly Jacks, you're an adult and you're my favorite reason for coming to work. I check the nursing schedule to coordinate my shifts with yours." Which is more words than what Kevin usually says, but is essentially what Kevin would say. And Eddie, too. Eleanor thinks about it for a while, and decides they're okay. It's not like either of them are used to having relationships where that much trust comes into it. Why would they? This thing with the money and the MRIs was just a line getting crossed, and now they both know better.
Eleanor suggests they head to the front and light some candles, but Jackie's not quite ready for that. Make me good, Lord, but not yet. She still believes a bit too much in prayer and service to actually bend her knees, as a joke or otherwise. "You're really awful," Eleanor pinches at her, and Jackie beams adorably: "That's what I'm trying to tell you!"
But she doesn't really believe it. Or rather, she believes it but she doesn't expect anybody to ever really believe it. And she only believes it half the time. I don't know that AA is for everybody but I think the God thing is a really dumb reason to blow it off. I don't really believe in God but I mean, when you're in that kind of pain you are God. Nobody matters, nobody even exists, except for you. And I think the main value of prayer, the idea of prayer, is that occasionally you remind yourself that you are both very small and very big. You are very important/You are not very important. You have God's undivided attention/You are also on your knees.
Jackie's a nurse: She understands service. But the thing in her heart doesn't. The thing crouching in her is the most important thing there is, a tiny king with a tiny kingdom, and the real world is not as real as the world in there. And I mean, we're all like this, it's why people pray, so they can get away from the responsibility of being God for a second. To remember we are small. And to remember that there is something bigger, that loves us more than we can ever properly understand. Kings can't kneel before that.
So when the person breaks down and goes to rehab, or hits rock bottom and goes all Jesus, or joins the Army or priesthood, that's the same as prayer. Even nuns washing the flagstones do it in Christ's service; everything that rises must converge, especially if you're on your knees. There's a reason for the recurring language around this stuff: "break," "rock bottom." The will of the thing within you has been broken for the good of something greater. Whether that's your life, or your family, or society, or God, I don't really see a difference.
Even the greatest rational atheist has to understand that your personal perception of things is not the sum total of things. Even addicts have regrets. Even the biggest Ayn Rand asshole has noticed that the decisions you make in the heat of a Monday start looking pretty stupid by Friday. Those are the places where your little ego, the tiny king, isn't standing at the moment: Those grey areas where you could have done better, and didn't.
If you add them all together, that's everything: Everything you think you know plus everything you don't know right now. And in that chaos is the best possible you, struggling to get out. And you're a lot closer to that once you realize the kingdom's bigger than the king, and that he owes his life to it -- not the other way around. But until you are broken, or something breaks you, or you dive in there, you're not going to see them, and you will not find peace. Because in those grey places, in the shadowy sweaty angry places we're too afraid to look: That's where God resides.
Now I ask you, does any of that sound like something Jackie Peyton would ever be interested in doing?
Zoey and Lenny are right up to third base when Eleanor and Jackie hear them, and investigate. Zoey leaps to her feet with her hands in the air, like she's sticking an Olympic landing: "Fully clothed!" Eleanor and Jackie nearly salute her. "In a chapel? Really trashy!" Eleanor smiles, and they vanish.
Coop has decided to get Sam fired after all. Gloria is not having that; there's a nursing shortage across America, thanks to a bunch of factors having to do with money and gender and status that we all know about. "But he broke my nose!" Gloria points out it was already broken, from the War of Zoey's Boobs. Sam mentions that Coop slept with his girlfriend, and Gloria's incandescent: "Really, Dr. Cooper. You get to be a doctor, isn't that enough?" Awesome. The judgment is that Sam's probation is extended -- "You can thank me by not assaulting any more of my staff" -- and Coop's imaginary chain of command doesn't come into it. Sam shoves by Coop, who whines, and Gloria presents him with the bill: Six more weeks as the Face of All Saints. Apropos of nothing, she shouts, "Someone! Is smoking!"
Oh, Kevin's hot on the trail. He finds the post office box, and the bill for all the pharmacies, and puts it together.
Gloria's in pursuit as well: She climbs up into the ceiling at Emergency, far above their heads. The something smoking, the something Coop heard. Last year it was rats. "Jesus Christ, it's God," she grits. Cramped in half, smoking a cigarette, watching his flock from above. "You're smoking!" she gasps, and he promises her he can do two things at once. He's God, after all. She tells him to go home, across the street, and he says he can't: They're fumigating his place for vermin.
Up here, "It's cozy, and I can keep an eye on shit. I'm not ready to walk among you. There's a lot of pain down there." But in her office, she promises, there are on the other hand candy bars. And a TV. God has needs, but they're pretty simple.
"Now you tell me where and when to meet you because otherwise, I'm coming down there and you can deal with me then. Your choice." Oh, Kevin is so mad!
God asks to smoke a cigarette, taking down that chocolate bar like it done him wrong. Gloria says God's landlord said he can go back in the morning, and God's free to stay at All Saints -- "below the ceiling" -- until then. "You are good," he says, and it's a benediction.
Jackie's mugging victim appears, still toting that bouquet (and those teeth!), and Gloria sends him to the nurses' station. "I got a bad feeling about that guy," God says when he's gone, and shushes him: "Now is that any way to talk about one of your flock?" God promises her Mr. Martin is not one of his. But is Jackie?
Coop stares longingly at the Face of All Saints, ten feet high, mourning what was once his nose. Jackie's in the bathroom, snorting a bunch of drugs into hers. Outside the stall is Sam, barely standing; she's terrified for a moment, but he slides to the floor. She drags him inside to figure it out, and leans him against the wall, hushing him as he starts into a diatribe about how she doesn't like him. The door opens, sending Jackie's heart into another tailspin, and Zoey enters.
"Lenny, this is my mom. Mom, this is Lenny."
Hello, Mrs. Barkow. What's up?
"Isn't she great?"
To her credit, Zoey immediately admits to Jackie, through the stall door, that she is alone. Jackie sends her out for Thor and a bunch of stuff to fix Sam, because he's losing it. "We have to keep him awake or he's gonna aspirate," she says, taking him incognito in a wheelchair, down to the basement, with Thor standing by. "Yep, we're going down," she says.
It's interesting to see them adding new places. There isn't the emphasis on place that you get with Grey's Anatomy or Farscape -- where the setting is a major character and every room bears great significance -- but this show has several of them. The chapel and the old hallway, the station in Emergency versus the one in Admitting, Kevin's bar versus the Peytons' home -- and now: God's up in the rafters, and we're going down.
Eleanor shoves the pharmacy bill away from her, refusing to look up at Kevin from her coffee. "Whatever, this is none of my business." But Kevin knows all the ways, now, and knows where to put the knife: "She give you a whole song and dance about her fucked-up back and her horrible life? Because I'm telling you, you can't believe a word she says... Did she tell you that I refused to take money for the girls? That I made her promise me on our daughters' life not to take your fucking money? Huh? Did she tell you that part?" Of course she didn't. She never would have.
"You know the drill. Stay awake. Do not pee yourself. There is a sink over there if you need it." Sam asks her why she's helping him, and she doesn't smile: "Because you are fucked up, my friend." Apparently he's been drinking vodka and Hawaiian Punch, which is like the saddest thing I've ever heard. Why not pills? He would have had to steal them. "That would've made me feel bad."
The basement is beautiful and clean. The gray and white tiles are laid out like chess knights' moves. Thor comes running back with EKG connectors, strapping them to Jackie's shoes and his own after minimal protest, and they start to dance for Sam, counting out the steps. "I love you guys," he moans, trying desperately to stay awake, and they keep tap-dancing. "Look alive, Sam." She does it grimly; she is beautiful. They are beautiful. I think the basement is officially the safest place on the show.
She runs to Eddie, apologetic, and he hugs her. "Oh, Eddie, it's all crashing down around me." He knows. He can see it in her eyes and feel it across her back. "So step aside, right?" She's sorry, but he knows it's okay. "The fucked-up thing is I want to do it for Kevin as much as I do for you. He's like cut in half, man."
Could you have imagined this taking place a year ago? Two years ago? They stand there in the pharmacy red-eyed, the wife and the friend, agreeing to split up for his sake. Sharing their love for Kevin, the husband and the cuckold, who is, in turn, down the street betraying his wife with her best friend. "You gonna be okay?" Of course she is, it's her defining characteristic. "Anyone who knows you, knows they don't know you." Which is the perfect answer. She kisses him goodbye.
Lenny has to be super cute and grabsy before Zoey will show him what she's been fidgeting with. "Boober, I can't believe you did this. What's it for, years of service?" Here's hoping. "All I got you was duck sauce!" he says, eyes wide, and they agree he's getting the better deal.
Mr. Martin shoves Jackie against the wall. "Stop walking. You're a slippery little thing, ain't you?" She pretends she doesn't know him, but he keeps going. It was $12,000 worth of pills she stole. "So what are you, a drug dealer? Why don't you call the cops?" She doesn't blink and she doesn't back down. "You come into my hospital and you fuckin' threaten me? Do you have any idea how many cops are gonna be up your ass if you lay a fucking finger on me?" Before she can say how many, Thor tackles him. "I love you just a little bit more than I did an hour ago," she says, and he smiles very sweetly indeed. I wonder if we'll see old Mr. Martin again. She is, as they say, dancing as fast as she can.
Jackie comes home with a cake, and Kevin greets her in the kitchen. Eleanor joins them, and Jackie gets super-scary perky and yippy and babbling, heartbeat gone crazed. She asks for the girls, anything to throw them off the scent, and he asks if she won't sit down for just a minute. She can't believe it; she just says "no, no, no" a million times, looking from one to the other, again and again.
Eleanor speaks calmly, quietly, and Jackie laughs and tells her to get out of the house; she asks for the girls again and Kevin says they're at his sister's -- and that he invited Eleanor. That they are allied against her. That the kingdom is rising up.
"You are fuckin' hilarious. He fuckin' hates your guts," she screams at Eleanor, and looks to him for confirmation: "You hate her guts! You invite her all the way out here to Queens to fuckin' gossip about me?" They stay calm, she moves into attack mode: "You think anybody wants to listen to what you have to fuckin' say about this?" Nearly in tears. "You're a drug addict," Kevin says quietly, and shows her the bill while she screams.
Jackie leaves them in her kitchen, and locks herself in the downstairs bathroom. A terrible song starts playing, but her face and the echoing words -- "You're fucking pathetic, both of you!" -- stay with you. Anything, any hurtful thing, to keep them from killing her. If Eleanor were black, if Kevin were gay. Anything, she'd do or say anything. The worst thing she could think of. She's fighting for her life.
And in another universe, a woman walks along the sand it's very early in the morning, or very late. She sits on the sand looks out at the water.
"Hi, my name is Jackie, I'm a drug addict," she can hear herself say.
Jackie stares into the bathroom mirror, locked in with a monster, and feels them coming for her. Rock bottom. Breakdown. Whatever words you want to use. They want to put her on her knees; they want to kill her. The thing that burns brightest in her, the desire that fills holes that nothing else can fill: They want to take that away, and break her like a saint in the process. Her smile isn't broken, except in the corner; there is only a little bit of shame in it. There is less than a single tear in her eyes.
They're coming to get her, and they'll see her on her knees? She's too brave, too strong, too hard for that.
"Blow me!" she says, with all the love in the world, and throws back her head, and laughs. She is so brave that she is terrified. She is so strong that she is weak. She is so hard that she will shatter. Jackie's a nurse: She understands service. But she is a tiny king, with a tiny kingdom, and Kevin and Eleanor will never be quite as real as the world in there. It's why people pray, to get away from the awful responsibility; to remember something loves us more than we can ever properly understand. Something bigger, that wants to keep us safe even from ourselves.
Kings can't kneel before that.