Plink, plinkety-plinky. The Strummy Strings Of Morning Banter ring out in the Cohen kitchen, which Ryan enters to discover Seth lying motionless on a nearby couch, where he has apparently lain since last week. Ryan hits a remote, which turns on a nearby television, and avoids the usual morning entertainment news about The O.C.'s tanking ratings in lieu of some barking news program. Seth, from under his piles of flannel pajamas and sadness, moans, "Oh, dude, please turn that off." Ryan tries to engage Seth in conversation, but Seth drawls, "Sssssh...I'm sleeping." But Ryan sees right through this clever little ruse, barreling on, "Please tell me you weren't up watching movies all night." Seth banters that he didn't do anything like that, adding by way of unraveling his entire argument, "Just Darkman and Hellboy and the first two Matrixes." So besides watching movies, Seth also managed to plan the First Annual Never Get Laid Again Film Festival Fun Pack. I guess any film containing a character named "Amidala" will be saved for the closing night ceremony. Back on the couch, Seth hilariously tries to correct his usage, groping for the plural of "matrix." He makes it as far as what sounds like "matrisis" before he asks "What's the plural of matrix?" and Pamie and I scream "It's 'matrices,' der" from the couch through a haze of Diet Coke and guacamole-flavored Doritos. I know. You hear of my rock-star life and you die with jealousy just a little bit.
Ryan offers Seth a cup of coffee with an advertising-savvy, "Coffee...mmmmm," and then stirs in the cream, sugar, and plot development, reminding Seth, "You need to get in the shower. We got school." Seth insists that he took a shower yesterday, and when Ryan fact-checks this, Seth clarifies, "I took a shower the day before yesterday." Ryan, understudying for the role of Sandy Cohen, tells Seth that he's going to make him a bagel, and Seth indicates that his body will tell him when it's time for him to eat. Ryan banters, "Just like it's telling you when it needs to shower?" Seth wants Ryan to try a little tenderness, but Ryan can't abide Seth's wallowing, counseling, "Enough's enough." Yes, Seth. Take a page from the Ryan Atwood playbook. If he can forget a troubled past, a pregnant wife, and the wholesale existence of something called a "Chino," you can forget about your not-girlfriend having not-sex in San Diego. Seth says that he's not wallowing, and that, in fact, what we are watching is "agonizing." He clarifies that wallowing includes "lounging around, eating ice cream, watching VH1." A show of hands from people who have just learned they were "wallowing" in an activity they previously referred to as "weekend plans." Hang on. Typing with one hand. In other news, Seth continues, agonizing "requires discipline. Days of no sleep. No food." Yeah, that's not what I'm doing. I wasn't even aware the expression "no food" existed. He rehashes again that agonizing also includes sitting around wondering if Zach and Summer had sex in a hotel room to his. Ryan, shmearing the morning away as is expected according to local custom, says that such speculation is "pointless," and that Seth will never really know for sure what happened that night in San Diego. Seth agrees that he will never know, "unless [he asks] Summer." Ryan tries to undo this argument, but Seth knows a lot of words and he says them really quickly and in an arbitrary order, telling Ryan that it's the uncertainty of the situation that's getting to him. Ryan does argue that "it's weird and it's creepy and it's none of [Seth's] business," and Seth agrees, concluding, "I'll ask Zach." With which the homeless troll doll who has replaced the former Seth Cohen ambles down the hall and slightly further out of my heart.
Opening credits: "To live anywhere else/ Just wouldn't be fair/ And that's why I'll never leave/ Good ol' Delaware." Time for some other states to start getting their due, y'all.
Kirsten walks into her bedroom to find her husband putting on a tie and still trying to shake off the smell of rank death that surrounds him after his ill-timed decision to suck face with the Crypt Keeper. She asks if he's seen Seth, and Sandy banters, "I've smelled him. He smells like teen spirit to me." Well, here I am now. Entertain me. Kirsten says that she tried to talk to him, but he just "shared this long-winded review of some movie called...Hellboy?" With which I can barely contain my surprise that Kelly Rowan doesn't then turn directly toward the camera and add, "Now available on video and DVD. Rent it tonight and go home happy!" Because really. That'll do. Sandy blames this behavior on "lady drama," and Kirsten turns it around with a biting "There seems to be a lot of that going around," which indicates that she might not so much be talking about Seth anymore. Sandy laments, "Still not ready to forgive and forget?" She responds with stony silence, so Sandy has no choice but to play the "dead professor" card (that one seems to be rising to the top of the deck with suspicious regularity lately), saying, "I'd better go and pay my respects to Max." Ever the better, more mature, and all-around blonder person, Kirsten asks, "You want some company?" He says he thinks that wouldn't be such a good idea, but she says she'd be happy to go to the service. But, you see, there won't be any service. "Rebecca could never go," Sandy says. "The feds would be there waiting for her. It's just gonna be the two of us." He adds that he knows it sounds "weird," and Kirsten confirms that this is all, in fact, "beyond weird." She and her smart suit take their leave to go call her father, who is apparently having some "lady trouble of his own." But it wouldn't surprise me if he first wanted to offer his own perspective on Hellboy.
Remember when Julie was bad? Remember when Julie was on this show at all? Let's be actively reminded of both! Over at the suddenly-prosperous Newport Group, Julie yells, "Don't tell me to calm down!" in the middle of some fight with Caleb, because Caleb thought Hellboy was the perfect blend of comic-book fantasy and drama, whereas Julie believed it had some "Act III problems." Outside the office, Kirsten runs into Lindsay, who indicates that Caleb called her last night and asked her to drop by the office. Kirsten starts to say that she has no idea what this could all be about, and just then Caleb notices them and calls them into his office. Kirsten notes Julie's piercing gaze and is all, "Awkward," suggesting that they come back. Caleb tells her that he and Julie are "finished," and sits them both down. The ultimate businessman -- except when he was nearly jailed for being such a terrible businessman -- he gets right down to business. He would like to formally adopt Lindsay. Kirsten smiles. Julie sneers. Lindsay says the words "Oh, my god" without managing to hit on any actual consonants during her pronunciation of the words. But Caleb...why NOW? "You may ask 'why now,'" Caleb filibusters, explaining, "After my heart attack, I realized that something could happen to me at any time." Not soon enough, I'm afraid, SHOW. "This way, Lindsay will be a legal heir. And I'll know that she'll always be taken care of." Julie tries to argue that Lindsay has nothing to worry about and that she'll take care of her, but Caleb argues, "This is about more than financial security," which seems like a cue line for a Caleb-performed musical number entitled, "Roth IRAs Are A Secure, Interest-Bearing Investment" that will succeed in making this lesson on fiscal discipline the most boring thing that has ever happened on television. And also? Nothing rhymes with "fiduciary." Caleb adds that Lindsay has stood by him though all of this, for some completely unknown reason, and as a reward, he would be proud to tell the world that he's her father. Are there any other prizes in this paternity Showcase Showdown? He continues that he knows this is a big step, but "should you decide you want to take it, I think a party would certainly be in order." What a tremendously random thing to say. Julie huffs out with an excuse that she has "work to do," brushing past her new daughter with a snide "Welcome to the family, Lindsay."
Pottery Barn distribution center. Er, I mean "school." That place gets more leathery every day. When I get married, I'm totally registering at the coffee bar at the Harbor School. If you happen to buy me a Seth Cohen, though, could you make sure it's one of the older models? This new Seth Cohen doesn't seem to possess the same self-cleaning capabilities. Speaking of Seth, a pale, pasty, looking-almost-consumption-laden Cohen stumbles into the coffee bar with darting eyes, a pen in his mouth, a cup of coffee, a furry film over his teeth, and malice in his heart. He sits down to Zach, and after some awkward "I'm fine, how's your sex doing?" introductory banter, Seth gets to it: "I know we haven't had a chance to talk since San Diego, and I figured I would take this opportunity to clear the air." Because we're all too lazy to remember why we're mad at each other from one week to the , Zach tells Seth not to worry about it, noting that it probably wouldn't have been that great an idea for him, Seth, and Summer to be working on the comic book together in the first place. Seth agrees because, really, it was kind of a stupid device. Zach leans back in a very does-your- breath-hurt- because-it's -killing-me defensive crouch as Seth goes in for the awkward segue, asking, "Soooooooooooo, you guys have a good time the rest of the weekend?" Zach says that they did, so Seth digs a little deeper: "I'm guessing a couple of good meals, a trip to Sea World, maybe a trip to the zoo...a little sex." Zach gives a reaction that's one stained shirt short of a spit take (or should I say "one stained snowflake sweater, because Zach what on earth are you WEARING?), getting all incredulous and asking, "What are you doing?" Seth says that he's just "making conversation," and Zach volleys, "I thought you were trying to figure out if Summer and I had sex in San Diego." Seth gets all jumpy and says that behavior like that would qualify as "creepy and boundary-crossing," and that he would never do anything of the kind. They hold for an awkward beat because that's exactly what the stage directions told them to do, and Zach spontaneously leaps up with a disturbed "I gotta go to class." Seth tries to call him back, but Zach stands safely outside of Pigpen's stink cloud and advises, "Seth, go home and get some rest. Seriously." Yeah, do it. School will be waiting for you when you get back. It didn't seem to mind it when you were mysteriously absent for an unspecified number of days last week.
Note: this scene ends when some stranger sits on the couch in the space Zach occupied previously, waits a moment while Seth stares at him, and gets up a moment later and leaves as the soundtrack rings out with what sounds to be some kind of French pop song. Very artsy comedy, Director Tru-faux.
Sad clouds roll in, because it only rains in Southern California when you're in a bad mood. Sandy and Rebeccan't stand at the pier with a giant urn, which...okay, wait. Did they cremate the body in her motel room's complimentary death kiln? Now, my experience with the whole death industry extends only so far as recapping one season of Six Feet Under, but I agree with all those on the forum who don't swallow the logic that Sandy and Rebeeca could walk into a crematorium and be like, "Yeah, he was my professor. And this woman? She's no one important. Listen, if you're done with the questions, we kind of need this done in a hurry, so if you have some kind of while-u-wait deal, we'll just take that. Oh, an autopsy? We won't be needing that. He died of green tea." And then when they left, Sandy would be all, "I know you need to disappear back into society's shadows with the rest of the ugly and the damned, but first...urn shopping!" All of those completely likely scenarios add up to Sandy and Rebecca on the pier. He tells her that he'll still work on her case, but that they have to focus on the future, to wit: "What happened the other night can't happen again." Rebecca nods in agreement, her jowls keep nodding long after the rest of her face stops moving, promising, "I understand." She turns to the large urn and tells Sandy, "He always wanted to be scattered over the ocean," and damn the internal logic it took to get him there, his dutiful daughter was going to comply. She takes off the top of the urn and wishes her father a final goodbye, pouring the ashes over the pier in slow motion. The ashes fly here and there as poor old Max -- nearly two full years older than his wayward daughter, if appearances are any indication -- is finally put to rest. Seeing him in ash form is enough to get his name into the credits this week?
School. Lindsay rushes up to Ryan at his locker and howls, "You are not going to believe this." You're leaving town? You remembered you used to be good at Physics? You've finally procured the necessary funding for your passion project of a shot-by-shot remake of Hellboy? "My father wants to adopt me." Ooooooh. Ryan tries to smile, but when Lindsay explicitly asks if Ryan thinks it's "great," he responds with less than enthusiasm because, in the new logic of the universe: shitty at pool, shitty at fatherhood. Ryan asks whether Julie was there when this went down, warning her, "You don't want Julie Copper as an enemy. And I say that having had Julie Copper as an enemy." Lindsay nods with concern and asks Ryan if he thinks she shouldn't go through with it, telling him, "I've been dreaming of this my whole life." Still needing a more compelling reason than that, girlie.
Ding dong. And, in this case, chung-chung! Kirsten answers the front door to find two dour-looking, cheap-suited public officials of some kind. The shorter, female-ier of them introduces them as "Stonerock and Tudor of the FBI." They ask if they can come in and ask her some questions. This week, on a very special crossover episode of Law & Order: Extremely Confused Genre Division.
Just when you thought you could avoid it completely, we find ourselves at The Haaaaaaaaate Shop. Alex pretends to run the place, an important quality for the establishment's only employee tp possess, but is soon interrupted by the arrival of dilettante actor, fashion plate, and now lesbian, Marissa Cooper. She whispers a coy "hey" in her lady love's ear, and Alex, used to being the establishment's only employee, gasps in fear. She flirts with Marissa, "Don't you know you're not supposed to sneak up on people?" -- a sentence that usually means "Don't you know you're not supposed to sneak up on people" but when applied to Marissa means, more like, "Please go away." But Alex seems to be having the time of her young life with Marissa, and she immediately announces that she has some friends visiting this weekend and that she wants her hot new girlfriend to meet them and to bring Summer along. Marissa becomes strangely detached and noncommittal -- it's either that or "passionate with unbridled joy," but as you all know it's somewhat difficult to tell for sure -- and Alex guesses correctly that Marissa hasn't told Summer about them yet. Does anyone have even the slightest guess as to how much time has elapsed since the end of the last episode? Can we play Price is Right rules of whoever guesses closest without going over? Because I think it's somewhere between forty-eight hours and one month. But to be on the safe side and hedge my bets just a little, I will guess "one dollar." Marissa promises that she was "going to" tell Summer all about the, and Alex says she assumed that Marissa would have already on account of them being BFF and all. "Like you said," Marissa says -- as the oak bar they're standing to is all, "Now that's wooden" -- "she's my best friend." Marissa puts her arms around Alex's neck and warns, "Just make sure your party doesn't suck, okay?" Alex smiles and swallows the rebuttal, "Well, just promise not to bring your acting, and I'm sure there won't be any problem," which is too bad because...rowr, what a girl fight it would have been.
The macro used to create the stage direction "Kirsten sits alone, plaintively drinking wine" now all but shattered from overuse on the collective computers in The O.C.'s writer's room, Kirsten sits alone in the kitchen, plaintively drinking wine. Sandy enters, asking, "Did we have guests?" Kirsten nods toward a business card sitting on the counter, which Sandy picks up and reads, surmising, "The FBI was here." How did he know there had been guests? You know what? Never mind. Sandy asks what Kirsten told them, and she snipes, "So now you're cross-examining me?" He shakes his head and looks sorry, and she responds, "I told them Professor Bloom came here two weeks ago and asked you to clear Rebecca's name." If they're that sure they're on the right path, how come they didn't have one more person trailing Sandy while he was out in broad daylight with a mysterious woman doing nothing so unusual as pouring a burnt human carcass into an ocean? Discuss. Sandy says that he's protected because he's her lawyer (is that true? That sounds like when George Bluth told Michael that a husband and wife can't both be indicted for the same crime and Michael was like, "Yeah, I don't think that's true") but that if Kirsten holds back info, she could be prosecuted for obstructing justice. Kirsten doesn't really think that Sandy is keeping her best interests at heart, responding to his claim that it's not a choice between protecting Kirsten and protecting Rebecca with the searing "I think it is. And I think you've made that choice, Sandy."
Julie Cooper-Nichol-Donovan wears a leopard she might well have killed with her teeth. Such is her grim, determined facial expression as she walks into her husband's office at the suddenly-prosperous Newport Group. She stands at his desk and announces that she's the only one trying to protect him in all this paternity muck. Caleb remembers that, after his heart attack, Lindsay was kicking it Mad Lib-style at his bedside while Julie was off cavorting in France. She says that Caleb can hold that against her as long as he wants, but that she's not going to let him rush into this. "For starters," she lectures, "you need to redo the paternity test." He tells her that there was no paternity test, and, right along with Julie, we all kind of react in horror. He tells her there was no need, and Julie says that, considering all of the money he's paid out over the years, she "thought [he was] a better businessman than that." Because of the time his impeccable business practices nearly landed him in a whole heap of jail? If I were y'all, I'd stop using the "Caleb as business luminary" trope and stop taking that for granted just because the man knows how to wear suspenders. Caleb promises that "Renee is an honest woman," and Julie reminds him that Renee was the one who slept with a married man. Caleb looks concerned. Julie looks coolly victorious. "Look," she adds, almost drowned out by the sound of her hammering one more nail into the adoption deal, "Lindsay probably is your daughter, but don't you think you have a responsibility to this family you're sure about before diving into this?" What a strangely-worded sentence. Caleb tells her he'll think about it. Awesome. I hope we get another scene just of him sitting and thinking. It will give me a chance to complete the time-passing activity I started during this last scene of counting the cumulative number of hairs on Caleb's head. I made it up to seven. And I am very nearly done.
"Hey, so you never told me how San Diego was!" Marissa reminds Summer as they lounge around Summer's bedroom. She hasn't? Have they seen each other? Wouldn't that be the first thing Summer would talk about? If they haven't seen each other, why would Marissa feel so bad about not having told Summer about Marissa? Writers? Buy a dry-erase board. Uncap the blue pen. Write "timeline" across the top. Show, don't tell. Here are some other tips about writing: do it better. Summer responds that "Zach is full of surprises." Four nipples? Maybe even five? What is this man's secret? First, it's time to talk more about Marissa. Summer leads the witness by apologizing for leaving her alone on Valentine's Day, but Marissa promises she wasn't alone. When Summer asks if Marissa has been holding out on her, Marissa panics and says she was with her mom. She then tries to find her bravery in telling Summer there's a party tomorrow night, but tells her about Caleb's bash instead. Summer nods and tries to be excited, celebrating, "Party at Caleb's! That sounds awesome! Maybe a little shuffleboard. A little bingo." Heh. Old people are funny. But, actually, shut up, because bingo rules. Summer's phone rings just then, and she does that one-side-of-a-phone-call thing that just never sounds good on television ("What's that you say? You say you'd like for me to meet you at the Crab Shack? Why, yes! What an important and informative call I've chosen to repeat entirely back to you!"), in which she tells Zach, her caller, that she'll meet him at the Crab Shack. Before ending the call, she notes, "I haven't seen Cohen. Why?" Pause. Pause. "He asked you WHAT? Ew." She terminates the call and tells Marissa that lunch is going to have to wait. Since Marissa has been waiting for lunch since several weeks shy of her thirteenth birthday, this development doesn't do much to shock her.
Out at some watery outdoor locale, Sandy finds himself in the presence of a man in a grey suit, who he thanks for coming all the way down from L.A. Quick, Southern California! Invent a phone and let expedient business flow. The grey man asks how Kirsten is doing, but Sandy loses the pleasantries with his insistence that she'd be better if two of Grey's colleagues hadn't come to pay her a visit last night. Grey basically says he didn't have a thing to do with sending them. But he knows everything about the Bloom case, and tells Sandy that if they find Rebecca, she'll do some serious time. Grey says that he did his homework (well, at least someone's going to school) and found out that Sandy and Rebecca had been involved. Sandy argues that it was twenty years ago, but Grey puts the pieces together, asking, "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?" Sandy says that her father was a dear friend of his and that he owes him. Grey warns, "If you think you owe this woman, you don't. She can bring you down." Sandy stands and thanks Grey for his help, leaving with the request that he keep his people away from his wife. Marissa is still patiently waiting for lunch. Take your time. It's absolutely fine.
Ding dong! But it's a much cheaper-sounding ring than the one that usually greets us at the front door of the ol' Cohen place. Renee Wheeler -- extending her contract with this show one episode on an à la carte basis, clearly -- opens the door to find Julie Cooper-Nichol-Donovan on the other side. Scourge of the middle class that she is, Renee is wearing rubber gloves and holding a bottle of Windex-like product, because those blue-collar folks are stuck with their own cleaning and there's not a thing they can do about it. Renee asks if she can help her, and Julie offers, "I thought I could help you. It's this adoption business. I wanted to give you a heads up. It looks like Caleb is going to ask for a DNA test after all." Renee is all incredulous, and Julie adds, "No one is suggesting that Caleb isn't the father. I mean, after all, you would have said something, right? All these years you've been taking his money? God, otherwise that would be, like, fraud, wouldn't it?" Oh, Julie, you magnificent bastard, you. Julie continues by saying that if Renee has any doubt -- any doubt at all -- maybe it would be best not to continue with this whole silly adoption thing after all. Renee starts to slam the door in Julie's face, but just then Lindsay appears at the door, and Julie wears a giant smile and tells Lindsay that she just popped by to invite Renee to the party. Julie tells them she should run, looks the place up and down, offers, "What a cute little house," and leaves to vast exit applause. Lindsay whispers to her mom, "We should put garlic up in case she comes back," and the whole scene loses nine points for feeling like it needed to end in such a "wah wah wah" kind of way.
Seth lies on his bed, still unshowered, ripping up his drawings of Summer. A knock on the door is soon to interrupt this activity, and Summer enters with great, fake, TV rage. She nails Seth (ew, not like that) with a pillow and screams, "You asked my boyfriend if we had sex? What is wrong with you?" He tells her, "Look at me. Since I've gotten back from San Diego, I've eaten, like, seven raisins and a pack of Corn Nuts." With which Mischa Barton pokes her head in from seeming nowhere and mutters, "amateur" before disappearing back from whence she came. But Summer is kind of out of sympathy, a little, and tells him, "Look, Zach is my boyfriend. You're not. That part of my life does not belong to you." Seth tells her he knows he was being weird and creepy, and apologizes with grave sincerity. And though it's not his business according to an independent panel of her, Summer offers that she wants Seth to take a shower, ending her plea, "Zach and I didn't have sex." Good. The whole town is starting to smell better already.
Rebecca lies on the couch of her free hotel room reading her latest copy of On the Lam Daily. (Holy crap, that also spells "O.L.D." and I am brilliant.) There's a knock on the door, and she works up the energy required to rouse her ancient frame from the couch and march her loose, fleshy sack of bones across the room to answer it. It's Kirsten. She starts off with a dash of diplomacy, telling Rebecca that she's sorry about what happened to her father. Rebecca says that Sandy didn't tell her Kirsten was going to drop by, smartly surmising that he doesn't know Kirsten's there. Kirsten wastes no more time: "Are you in love with my husband?" Yes. Yes, we are. Stop looking at us like that. Rebecca cops to the fact that, yes, she is and always has been in love with Sandy, but that nothing has happened between them. Interesting interpretation of the facts, but maybe Rebecca had her fingers crossed or whispers the words "nothing with tongue, anyway" under her breath when Kirsten and I both had our backs turned. Kirsten says she's sorry for everything Rebecca has gone through, but adds, "While you've been running, we've been building a family. A life. And he's putting all that in danger for you. So you just gottta ask yourself: how much are you willing to let him sacrifice?" Silence. Kirsten takes her pretty hair and goes.
Meanwhile, the cold light of what might be willful embezzlement starts to shine brightly on one Renee Wheeler. Oh, the poors, those delightful heathen darlings. Will they never learn? Renee rings the Cohen doorbell. When Ryan answers, she makes a brief charade of pretending she was there to talk to Kirsten and Sandy, but eventually cops to its being him she was looking for. She tells him she needs him to help her talk Lindsay out of the adoption. He's all, "eh?" She tells him that Lindsay won't listen to her because she thinks her mother is just jealous -- of Caleb's demonic nature and his Lex Luthor-ish grimace, and I mean what parent wouldn't be -- and that it led to a huge fight that we never, ever got to see. Ryan asks why Lindsay would listen to him, and Renee says that it's because Lindsay trusts him, which maybe she should think about reconsidering. Renee leans in all conspiratorially and tells Ryan, "She can't take that test." Because of the part where her mother's a whore. There. I said it.
Actually, I'd like to sub out the above Lex Luthor reference and say that Caleb is a little more Superman II villain now, what with the all leather gear. Why wouldn't he want to adopt Lindsay and finally make official his status as "leather daddy"? It's Sunday, we learn, and Caleb has asked Sandy to meet him at the offices of the suddenly-prosperous Newport Group. Caleb takes Sandy into his office and, after deflecting barbed questions from Sandy about who is trying to arrest him now, listens as his father-in-law asks, "What do you know about getting a DNA test?" He really just uses Sandy as his personal Google, doesn't he? There are other ways out there to get this information than by dragging your son-in-law away from his wife AND his girlfriend to talk about such matters. And, anyway, Sandy responds with something akin to horror, telling his father-in-law, "The adoption party is in eight hours." Sandy notes that this must mean Caleb never did a test when Lindsay was first born, and Caleb rationalizes his way out of this plot hole for the second time by reminding us, "It was an affair...the last thing I wanted was a medical record of my infidelity." Sandy asks how Lindsay's going to take this news, and Caleb thinks she'd like to know the truth as well, but Sandy counters, "She thinks she's getting a father, not a blood test." Dude, if it's choosing between a vial of blood from my arm or having that man as my parent and legal guardian for the rest of my life, I'll take the prick in my arm over the prick in the bedroom absolutely any day.
I can't name all of them specifically, but I have a strong feeling we're all going to think we've seen this scene before. The scene where Lindsay and Ryan fight. The scene where maybe this isn't going to work out because the cosmos are against them. The scene with the tragic misunderstanding. That scene? Is this scene. Right here. Lindsay meets Ryan at the pier, kissing him merrily because he beats old men at pool or something. She tells Ryan that she had a "huge fight" (really?) with her mother, so she figures she can get ready for the party "at [her] dad's." Ryan -- always the messenger, always ready to be killed for it -- asks, "Are you sure this adoption's the best idea?" She regards him silently for a long, time-sucking moment, finally asking, "What?" He tells her maybe this is going a little fast, and Lindsay laments, "First my mom and now you. What is everyone's problem? He's my dad." Or...IS HE? Lindsay asks point-blank, "What don't I know, Ryan?" He fails to provide an answer, just so Lindsay can turn around dramatically, just so Ryan can call after her, and just so she turn around and say, "Y'know, tonight's probably one of the most important nights of my life. And I only want people there who support me. So maybe I'll see you." Again, is this really worthy of a party? I know we have to get all of the main players into the room for the final act here, but isn't there any other way? Poor show. Poor show was never taught any other way.
Newport's First Annual Contested Paternity Winter Bash is in full swing at the Cooper-Nichol residence. Julie wears a fierce purple dress and a flower in her hair like she's three off-key notes from a duet with Marc Anthony, and she tells a party companion, "You should get another glass of champagne, 'cause this is one surprise you won't find already posted on the internet." Shout-out! Kirsten and Lindsay, meanwhile, idle nearby. Kirsten notes that she hasn't seen Lindsay's mom, and we're told that she's not coming and reminded once more of the giant fight that was so big they couldn't show it to us on Fox. Caleb runs over and asks Kirsten if Sandy is there yet, and we learn that he is not. Lindsay tells Caleb that this is "a really nice party," and he distractedly tells his daughters to enjoy themselves, before dashing off without another word because he is an unremittingly terrible father.
Again, Sandy, they're on to you. So maybe taking your own car to a strange motel room and then walking through the front door of said motel room yelling, "Rebecca?" might just be six or seven of the tip-offs that the feds are looking for. And he's carrying Chinese food. But it doesn't matter anyway, because as he enters the room, he spots a note. He picks it up. He reads it. He furrows his brow. He is Confused.
Seth is back in his crazy robe playing videogames as Ryan gets ready for the party. Seth feels stupider than ever for having convinced himself that it was Summer who didn't want to take a bite of the Big Zach Attack in San Diego. Ryan tries to convince Seth to come to the party, and then tries to convince Seth that they should both just stay home on account of Lindsay's not really wanting Ryan there anyway. Seth thinks Lindsay does want Ryan there, but he's more concerned about the him part of the story. He says he's totally over Summer, and now he's just venting, and Ryan strangely suggests that if Seth really wants closure, he should talk to Summer herself. Really? Seth himself argues that closure is overrated and that he prefers "open-ended, unrequited love," but in the same breath says that he'll go talk to her: "But if I don't come back alive, my blood is on your hands." While it's there, maybe we can test it and see if he's Lindsay's dad.
Shut up, Marissa. Just because you're reading a book about punk, doesn't...y'know what? Not even worth it. Summer knocks on Marissa's bedroom door and enters, asking why she would invite someone to a party and then hide in her room. Maybe she's afraid of stray packs of roaming lesbians. Marissa asks where Zach is, and Summer snips, "I don't know. Confession?" Marissa asks what that means, and we relearn his aversion to sex before marriage, to which Marissa responds with a hearty "What?" But now Zach's changed his mind, see, and she's off to Tuscany week, because what full-time student doesn't go on week-long vacations in the middle of February? Anyway, Summer continues, now that he wants to, she kind of doesn't, because when they were in San Diego, she heard a voice in her head, and that voice was Seth's. Marissa counsels that she can just say she changed her mind and that Zach will understand. Marissa wastes no more time: "I've been dating Alex." Summer is all, "What?" Seth's Alex? Girl Alex? Summer asks who else knows, and Marissa promises Summer's the first, and then Marissa gets all sheepish and asks, "We're still friends, right?" Summer offers a hug and asks, "This isn't turning you on, right?" It's turning me on a little. Except for the Marissa part.
Ryan and Renee show up to the party at exactly the same time. She cries that she needs to tell her daughter everything, and Ryan says that he'll go get her and bring her out. He enters the party and is soon to come face-to-face with Lindsay, who is happy to see him until he tells her what he's doing there: "Your mom. She's here. She wants to talk to you." Lindsay gets all off-put by this information, responding that, since Ryan now seems to be in the business of delivering messages, he should deliver the message that she'd like it if her mother were there for Caleb's announcement, but that if she's not, at least Lindsay has one parent who supports her. So Ryan lowers the boom, saying she can't let Caleb make the announcement. And why not, for the fourteenth time? "He might not be your dad." Lindsay asks Ryan why he's doing this, and storms off.
Meanwhile, Sandy arrives at the party and immediately pulls Kirsten away from the couple of extras she's talking to. She asks him if everything is okay, and he tells her, "Rebecca is gone. What did you say to her?" She said, "While you've been running, we've been building a family. A life. And he's putting all that in danger for you. So you just gottta ask yourself: how much are you willing to let him sacrifice?" Hey, these recaps are really handy! Kirsten says that this isn't the time or the place, but Sandy fishes out the secondary source material of Rebecca's letter and reads it right there: "Sandy: I talked to Kirsten, and I can't allow you to put your family at risk." Again, Rebecca, excellent security, mentioning everyone's name and stuff. He informs his wife, "You have no idea what you've done." She tells him not to put this all on her, saying that he could have gotten her another lawyer or sent her to another town, "but [he] couldn't let go." He asks again, "Tell me what you said." She said, "While you've been running, we've been building a family. A life. And he's putting all that in danger for you. So you just gottta ask yourself: how much are you willing to let him sacrifice?" And then she took her pretty hair and left.
Caleb sits alone in his crazy old man study, and Lindsay is soon to enter. She seems a bit dazed, and stutters that maybe he'd like to make the announcement now, like, right now, and "just get it over with." He asks her to sit down and tells her, "I've been thinking. I believe it would be best for everyone if we postponed this adoption." She cries and asks why, and he tells her he's sure she can understand why "a man in [his] position" would require a few tests. He tells her he wants to take "every precaution," and then pours himself a scotch neat from the sidebar. I totally don't want a dad who pours himself a scotch neat from the sidebar. Unless my father was Humphrey Bogart. Lindsay tells Caleb she doesn't need to take a test, because she knows her real father wouldn't treat her this way, and seconds afterward, she storms out of the room, Julie enters looking all wifely and sympathetic. "You stay here," she tells him. "I'll cover for you."
Outside the house, Lindsay hops in her car and peels off, Ryan chasing her to no avail. She's upset, y'all. She's upset enough to drive her car at a somewhat brisk speed.
And back inside, Julie does her promised "covering," bringing the party assemblage to listen to the night's big announcement: "It is my pleasure to announce that the Newport Group, under my leadership, is about to launch its very own lifestyle magazine." Applause. "Newport Living will profile hot Orange County trends, events, and fashion as determined by me and my staff of, well, me." Laughter AND applause. Now all she needs is something called a "hot Orange County trend."
Marissa shows up at Alex's and we discover the place to be completely empty of any lesbians or lesbian residue of any kind. Including these two. Marissa sits down to Alex and apologizes for getting freaked out, saying that she tried to sell Summer and that she couldn't. Eh? "But then I told her." Aaaaah!
"Relationships are like geese! They fly north in the winter!" Somehow, I picture every line of dialogue on The Valley to be capitalized, like in Archie comics. A knock on Summer's door (how many times does she have to tell people she doesn't like being interrupted during this show?) reveals Seth, who tells her to get one more final look, because he'll never see her like that again. He tells her to have a great time in Italy and to have all the fun she wants: "I'm over you." Well, thanks for sanctioning their good time, Seth. They shake on it and he starts to leave, getting to the door before telling her to send him a postcard. She will. But it's going to reek of sex.
And, finally, back at the house, Sandy enters -- carrying the same containers of Chinese food he had with him a hundred hours ago in Playa -- to find Seth and Ryan watching TV. They recap the plot of Hellboy for Sandy, an antihero who "tries to be good but usually ends up destroying everything." Sandy proclaims Hellboy "[his] kind of hero." Yeah, I guess there's a kinship. But even with the big nasty bolt thing sticking out of his head, Hellboy still ain't lowering himself to making out with Kim Delaney.