The episode opens on a close-up of a pretty, glossy brochure, which Sandy Cohen is clutching in his hot, disillusioned little hand. It is pimping a rehab center, so obviously, Sandy isn't going to take the Portland approach with Kirsten's liver. Sandy tells the rehab doctor that he is free to meet right away, but only briefly, because he has a funeral that afternoon. What an action-packed day: sending both your wife and your father-in-law to better places.
Seth stumbles downstairs in his bathrobe and bumps into Kirsten. He asks if everything is okay, and looks appropriately blue. "Been better," Kirsten says. Seth is sorry for her loss, and Kirsten lovingly touches his face and reminds him how much Caleb loved him. That's funny, I don't remember Caleb showing up at Seth's comic-book launch. Then again, none of that matters now, since apparently the book has found a way to live on without its writer and artist, because anyone can draw and create stories -- it's the spreadsheet man that is its heart and soul! Seth lies that he's going to miss Caleb very much, and then toddles off in search of a cell phone charger. Kirsten tells him to check Sandy's office.
Cut to Seth doing a very thorough job of looking through every single drawer in Sandy's desk, having apparently started at the very illogical bottom of the desk and worked his way up to the more telegenic hiding places. He finds no charger, but settles on a brochure for the SURIAK treatment center, and gapes at it. As would I, because I don't want to go rehab myself at a place that sounds more like an Ikea metal bookshelf than a gentle womb cradling me to sobriety.
Seth, of course, takes this revelation all the way into the poolhouse, where Ryan is opening his blinds in what is probably a symbolic move representing their sudden awakening to Kirsten's situation. Maybe I'm trying too hard. Wait, "maybe"? Certainly. Ryan kindly asks how Seth is coping. "Well, I was depressed. Now I'm depressed and confused," Seth says, handing Ryan the brochure. Ryan is surprised to see it and asks where Seth got it. "My dad's office. And I don't think he's trying to kick bagels," Seth says. God, no. Why would anyone do that? It's crazy talk. Ryan looks past Seth and sees a hollow Kirsten futzing with the Cohen McManse's blinds. He correctly deduces aloud that perhaps it's not Sandy who is in need of wringing dry.
SURIAK rehab center is basically a massive, sprawling resort with ten pools, infinity edges, a swim-up coffee house, three world-class restaurants, and ponies. At least, that is what I expect, based on the exteriors. The doctor (a "Hey! It's That Guy" named Garrett Brown, who was the dad on Roswell) and Sandy stroll outside as they converse about Kirsten's history on the bottle. Sandy says she's always enjoyed a nip or two of wine, but lately, things have been different: "She's switched to vodka, she had a car accident. And I'm afraid that with the loss of her father, things will get worse." Sandy conveniently leaves out that Kirsten felt abandoned and as if her marriage was crumbling, but that would involve mentioning She Who Shall Not Be Named Again, Ever, On Account of General Icky-ness And An Irritating Plot. Dr. Roswell insists that their residential treatment is peaceful and totally confidential, because they've had the place sprayed with grape-icide to prevent the growth of any vines down which gossip might travel. Sandy frets that he's overreacting, so Dr. Roswell closes the deal by pointing out that it's tough for anyone to come to terms with needing outside help to handle this type of thing. "She's not going to come voluntarily," Sandy says sadly. Dr. Roswell points out that not many of them do, no matter what Pat O'Brien's publicists try to make people believe.
Over at the Cooper house, Marissa's magic neck wound is back, scabbing over but still very much there. She examines it thoughtfully, almost as if surprised to see it, which would make sense given that it was gone at prom. I'd be shocked, too. Whatever makeup she used that night, I need to own it immediately. She nervously covers the injury when Julie enters and whines that all her black dresses "look like they should be accessorized with a broomstick." She wants to borrow something. "It's a funeral, Mom, not a fashion show," Marissa snaps. Julie's eyes narrow in that familiar "My DNA is too sassy for its own good" way. But Marissa's personality rehab (hey, her house is as nice as any SURIAK) has been effective, because she softens and apologizes: "I didn't mean to be a bitch." Julie shrugs: "Apples and trees. You are my daughter." Love it. Marissa actually looks sheepish and very sweetly says she must have something that would look fab on Julie. She is being generous; Julie, who has a perfect figure, would still only be able to get one leg in a Marissa Cooper special.
The ring of the doorbell interrupts this tender moment; Marissa actually seems stunned, as if she didn't know the house even had one. She heads downstairs and answers it, revealing...Jimmy! Hooray. She hugs him delightedly, and Julie pauses mid-descent down the stairs, trying not to look too happy-slash-horny. "You didn't think I'd leave you two alone during all this, did you?" he says jovially, looking hot in his suit. Marissa and Julie are both silent, wearing expressions that say, "Well, YEAH..." Jimmy reads that and apologizes. Julie says it's good to see him; Marissa echoes this, and Jimmy promises that they'll get through the rough week together.
Another doorbell, this time at the Cohens'. It's a doorbell-palooza, and it's the sweet, sweet music of realism -- a welcome score to any episode. Kirsten opens the door to Hailey, and they hug. "He said the heart thing was no big deal -- not worth flying home for," Hailey pouts. Kirsten insists that Caleb just didn't want to worry his baby girl, unlike his big girl, on whom he liked to layer all kinds of stressful stuff. Hailey feels sorry for herself, remembering all the stress and anxiety she always caused. Kirsten isn't about to be one-upped, though, because no one is a better pity-party hostess than she. So she lays down the fact that at least Caleb got to bask in the pride of seeing Hailey get her life together: "Me, the last time I saw him, I told him he was going to die alone," she says plainly. Hailey is startled.
Seth lies on his bed in a dress shirt and suit pants, reading Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. Now that he's not a mogul, he doesn't bother with comics. Summer gingerly creeps into the room with Princess Sparkle and asks if Captain Oats is home. "Princess Sparkle! You're in my room!" Seth says, giving the event the kind of awe it richly deserves. Summer says she figured Captain Oats would be bummed and might want to hang out with somebody pretty, who has shiny hair. And female parts. She sets him down to Oats on Seth's nightstand. Aw. "If he gets fresh it's straight to the glue factory," Summer cracks. Seth smiles, but he's not in a joshing mood. Summer takes Seth's hand and snuggles up to him, and they exchange soft "hello"s, and right about here I was like, "Yay, it's real Summer and Seth!" Seth tells Summer that he's worried about Kirsten, because in Sandy's office he found a brochure for some Swedish rehab center that makes its patients design sensible end tables. Summer is shocked. "Has she been drinking?" she asks. Seth shrugs. "She's a WASP living in the O.C., so it's all relative, right?" he says. He remembers a glass of wine or two at dinner, but can't pinpoint anything more dramatic: "I've been so self-involved this past year, I don't even know. No idea." Thank you, Josh. That's nice to hear. Although Seth gets some help from the fact that Kirsten has also been retreating into herself, and therefore hasn't bothered to deal much with Seth either. Seth worries that his running away to Portland spawned this. Summer gently tells him that he's being self-involved again: "I think this is bigger than you." Seth looks sad for a second, and then says he needs to go put on his tie: "It always takes me a few tries." But he doesn't move, and Summer hugs his arm and puts her head on his chest. Great scene.
Jess the Drug Ho sluts up Trey's front porch as he arrives home, improbably dressed in what looks like a suit. Seriously, what is going on with that? Where does he think he was? Trey doesn't look terribly thrilled to see Jess, but she apparently has a big plot. Once inside, she explains that there is big business at graduation time, and that the kids who supply Garden Grove want to buy from them -- for a payoff of $15,000. She offers Trey half, because she is a crap businesswoman. But, she didn't exactly become Jess the Drug Ho by having a whole lot of grey matter between the ears. Jess explains that she needs help doing the deal, and pulls a pistol out of her purse. She asks if Trey knows how to use it, or at least point it like he means it. That is apparently all he has to do to earn $7,500. Trey is noncommittal. Jess then sashays to the bedroom to open her legs for the kind of loveless, respect-free nooky that probably got her all fucked up -- pun half-intended -- in the first place.
A very spare, electronic song scores the funeral procession's long drive along the coast. People pour out of limos; Kirsten hugs Jimmy happily; Hailey and Jimmy apparently don't see each other despite standing two feet away from one another; everyone heads down to the service; Hailey meets her half-sister Linds...oh, wait, sorry, the gates of Subplot Pergatory were apparently locked before she could leave to come for the funeral. We fade in and out of people's speeches as we see mourners look sad: the priest says something benign that he made up about how greatly the loss will be felt county-wide, Hailey gives a fairly typical reading, and Sandy delivers the eulogy. He calls Caleb "brilliant" and says, "He leaves a legacy of possibility, but his true achievements were his children. He was a caring father, a wonderful grandfather, and a truly terrible father-in-law." Scattered laughs. Sandy concludes over shots of the pallbearers -- of whom he and Ryan, interestingly, are two -- carrying the coffin away: "Rest in peace, Cal. And if you can't do that, I'm sure Heaven could use a few more McMansions." Yeah, but real estate in Hell is probably more valuable. Better weather, better parties.
At the Bait Shop. Jess strolls in with her usual Eau de Ho oozing from every pore. Trey isn't pleased to see her, because he works for a living, and doesn't have time for any additional warts or diseases in his genitals or anywhere else. "Why don't you ever worry about Calculus, or Mayan history, like a normal kid?" Trey cracks. "Bad parenting," Jess beams, leaning against the bar. She tells Trey that their drug deal is going down that very night, in that very spot. Trey understandably thinks this reeks of stupidity, but Jess points out that she wanted a public place, the better to spare them the fate of the last people who sold to these thugs. Apparently they have a fondness for tire irons. Trey figures that as long as stupid is in the air, he might as well go with the flow and agree to help out with this nonsense. He tries to claim that he's done with the drug stuff after this. I'm sure.
At the wake, Hailey sidles up to the buffet table and breaks the ice with Jimmy. He apologizes for not greeting her sooner. "So you don't hate me for bailing?" she asks. "People in glass houses, Hail," he says, grinning. She asks him how he likes life in Hawaii. "You would not believe the North Shore," he says. "So I've heard," she says. It's a funny meta moment, except that Amanda Righetti looks oddly pissed off when she delivers her part of it. Way to have a sense of humor, girlie. I'm sorry your show got cancelled and The O.C. doesn't want you back. Tough break. Have a donut. Jimmy spies Kirsten polishing off a glass of wine and notes that she seems to be having a hard time. "I've never seen her like this," Hailey says.
Kirsten wanders away from the party and into the kitchen, where she rescues a very chilly bottle of Absolut from the fridge. It would appear that between Episodes 21 and 23, the show really did go out and find a sponsor for Kirsten's drinking habit. Maybe they think people will see that and go, "Man, look at her guzzle -- Absolut must be pretty freakin' tasty." Kirsten sloshes vodka into a wine glass. Because if there's anything Kirsten knows how to do, it's take life's lemons and turn them into a lemon drop. Sandy enters the kitchen and tries for a cheerfully light approach, noting that they have bartenders they're paying specifically to put alcohol in glasses. "I don't like waiting in line," she rasps humorlessly, chugging almost the whole glass. Man. That is some serious drinking. Sandy is too busy encouraging Kirsten to pace herself to stop and marvel at his wife's industrial-strength esophagus. Kirsten spits that perhaps she doesn't want to pace herself: "My father just died. Maybe you want to lay off the Kirsten Drink Count for a while." She pours herself a refill. Sandy tries placating her, but she crabs her way out of the kitchen, at which time we notice that Julie has been discreetly listening to this confrontation. She walks up to Sandy sympathetically, and offers to take over the Kiki Watch for a while so that he can sit back and relax and enjoy the merry wake. It's here that I thought the dress Julie borrowed from Marissa had a massive extra patch of cloth she'd sewn on to hide her Trey Wound, but after a rewind or two, I realized it's just Julie's ponytail. That would have been funny, though, if Marissa had gone around haphazardly stitching lopsided swatches of fabric to all her tube tops. Sandy sadly tells Julie that he doesn't think anything can help Kirsten.
Seth slouches over to Marissa and Ryan: "I've talked to every pillar of the community. I'm sick of pillars." Ryan figures that's better than having people ask if you're the kid who torched the model home and caused Cal's first heart attack. Marissa doesn't really have anything that lives up to that, but she wants to try, so she offers, "Everyone's looking at me like I'm the grieving stepdaughter. I don't think the guy could stand me!" Nice try, M, but it's not like he's the only person you've run across who couldn't stand you. Ryan suggests that they hide in the poolhouse, and everyone agrees.
Summer, though, is at the buffet table, making up two plates. Taking a deep breath, she walks up to Kirsten and offers her one in case she's hungry. "No, thank you," Kirsten says. She looks rough. Even the bags under her eyes are slurring somehow. Summer smiles that the only lesson she's learned from her stepmother is not to drink on an empty stomach. This is only good advice if you are not hell-bent on getting pissed off your tree. Kirsten, however, is sick of her tree, and wants no part of anything that would keep her up there, so she snaps at Summer and shuffles off to further dilute her blood. Summer should have quit after a simple offer of food, but the intention was very sweet, even if it wasn't her place to do anything, because she was clearly motivated by concern for Seth. And that's nice -- I like to see them being nice to and for each other, since that's been so rare. As Kirsten staggers away, Sandy sees this, and senses what Summer was trying to do. She turns around, flummoxed, and Sandy genially makes a crack about her raiding the buffet. She offers him a plate. Sandy pretends he just got a great idea, saying that the wake is going to go on a while longer and it might be best for Seth's frame of mind to get out of the house. Summer sees right through this, especially with one more backward glance at Kirsten, who plows through one drink and swaps the empty glass for a full one. "Yeah, sure thing," she nods meaningfully at Sandy.
Seth and Ryan are playing their Star Wars game, but they don't look like it's much fun for them. Marissa is equally bored by watching. This is phenomenal product placement: "Star Wars: Weaker than grief." Summer enters and suggests that funeral food is too depressing even for an event about death, so perhaps they should go scarf some chili fries and watch people pretend to have fun at the Bait Shop. They all agree. Marissa holds back, asking Ryan urgently if he thinks Trey will be there. Ryan says no; he works days, and has probably uncovered a second place in town to hang out when he's off.
But Trey is, of course, at the Bait Shop, nursing a drink. The Fab Four enter. "Do I still even work here? I should find out, for tax purposes," Seth mumbles, brow perma-furrowed. Reference #1 to his aborted career as a mop boy: Funny. Marissa actually stops dead in her tracks when she sees Trey, because her poker face is phenomenal. Trey plasters a fake smile on his lips as he wanders over and shakes Seth's hand, offering his condolences. "What are you doing here?" snaps Ryan, because he suddenly owns the Bait Shop. Trey lies that he's picking up his paycheck, which Marissa snottily points out would be handed out on a Monday, and since this isn't a Monday, clearly, he has no right to be out in public. Sorry -- I don't mean to defend her would-be rapist; I just get ticked off when these people act like the world is their nightclub and they are the bouncers. "Even I know [about the checks], and I think I've been fired," Seth says, scratching his head in vexation. Reference #2 to his aborted career as a mop boy: Meh. Trey tries to laugh and ask when Seth got fired, but Jess wiggles up at that point and asks why the posse is in its glad rags. Seth tells her about Caleb dying. "Oh," she yawns. "Well, he was probably pretty old." They all just stare at her, wondering why they're being subjected to this. I feel them. Jess drags Trey away.
Trey isn't too happy with the fact that not only is this drug bust going down at his place of employ, but it's happening with Ryan in the building. Jess mouths off about how Trey just doesn't want to look bad in front of Marissa, because she can't stop yammering on and on about Marissa. This girl has no clue. Trey pleads with her to go elsewhere, but the thugs are already on the way. "Is it loaded?" she whispers. So what does Trey do? Why, he TAKES THE GUN OUT OF HIS PANTS, in front of everyone, and cocks it. PUBLICLY. This actually mostly serves to make me hate the Bait Shop even more.
Summer asks Marissa for the dish on Trey, since FINALLY, someone else is not impervious to the awkwardness and hate. Marissa shrugs it off. Meanwhile, Seth and Ryan are at the bar ordering Yoo-Hoo and smoothies, as if this armpit of a bar has a Jamba Juice franchise inside. "If I still worked here, I could make the drinks myself," Seth says, still troubled. Reference #3 to his aborted career as a mop boy: get over the meta, because we have. As Seth tells an enquiring Ryan that he hasn't had a chance to talk to Sandy about SURIAK Rehab Center and Modular Shelving Unit, Ryan gazes, preoccupied, at a bunch of stereotypical ruffians who've entered the bar. He watches them go upstairs to meet Jess, and then stares as Jess crosses the metal grate balcony above him. Dude, how is it that girls wear skirts to that bar, if you can see up them through the holes? I know seeing up Jess's skirt is nothing half of Newport hasn't done, but God forbid anyone should look skyward at the wrong time and peep Marissa's bony parts.
We are at the wake. Jimmy and Sandy make small talk. Julie interrupts them, hissing that she needs some help. Sandy looks over her shoulder at a staggering Kirsten, who is carrying her vodka bottle and swigging from it with abandon as she flaps her arms around trying to remain stable. She looks like a drunk tightrope-walker. Sandy strides up angrily. "Oh, for God's sake, Kirsten, at least use a glass," he snaps. As you might imagine, the confrontational approach doesn't sit well with Kirsten. "Oh for God's sake, Sandy, leave me alone," she grunts. Sandy tries to encourage her to go get some sleep on this very trying day, and tugs her toward the house; she struggles and screams, "Let GO of me," as the vodka bottle shatters on the ground. Everybody at the party stares at the drunk girl. I've been there. Except I threw the beer bottle down on purpose in a rage, and then ran off to nurse my fury. True story. But I was seventeen. I didn't have real problems. Kirsten notices that she's in the spotlight and hisses, "Are you happy?" Sandy isn't, of course, but all those Newport society drones certainly are! Hello, gossip mill. Jimmy and Julie escort Kirsten back to the house while she tries to pretend her legs are still working.
Jess, meanwhile, is snorting coke in a badly hidden upstairs nook at the Bait Shop. "You got the money?" she asks. A thug produces a bag of cash. Once he snorts his share, the deal is done. He does, so she hands him her stash. He snatches it greedily and says, "We don't have enough to cover the coke. How about we set up a payment plan? Like, we pay you when we feel like it?" Jess feels betrayed. But she has to express it like she's a street-smart urchin, so she yells, "YO! What's UP? We had a DEAL." Then, the greatest line ever: "We're renegotiating, Garden Grove-style!" Ooooh, snaps! They're bringing it Garden GROVE-style, motherbitches! This sounds about as tough as all the guys who go on Dance 360 and introduce themselves as, "Yo yo yo, no doubt, I'm Wiz-illiam, and I'm from Beverly HIIIIIIIIILLS!" I feel like "Garden Grove-style" entails espadrilles instead of Keds, and that's about the only difference. Jess, though, is as dumb and rash as we've come to assume: she grabs the gun from Trey and points it at the thugs. They dare her to shoot them, so she rips off two shots at the ceiling and grabs the bag of cash as she and Trey flee. The rest of the bar patrons duck as Garden Grove's finest fire back at Jess; somewhere in the fallout, some broken glass hits Marissa in the head. She whimpers and bleeds as Ryan glares around the bar, watching with snarling disapproval as Trey exits.
Sandy plops down on the couch to Hailey and says that Kirsten is upstairs sleeping it off. Everyone else has gone, perhaps realizing that when your hostess goes down -- or tries to climb into the washing machine, which is what an old housemate of mine did -- the party is decidedly over. Hailey asks how long this has been going on. "Too long," Sandy answers. But Kirsten's show at the wake sealed her fate, and he plans to send her to rehab. Hailey offers to help. Sandy says he needs some private time to talk to the boys about this, so Hailey offers to sneak Kirsten out for a spa day. Sandy is grateful.
Ryan appears at Trey's, demanding to know what went down the night before. Trey blames it on trying to do Jess a favor that backfired, but Ryan isn't impressed with all of Trey's excuses and the constant sob story he makes of his life. Trey insists that Jess is crazier than he ever thought. "That's a surprise, considering you met her face down in a pool," Ryan snaps. No, he met her face up on the patio, and then probably ass up in the bedroom. Trey isn't sure what else to say, and Ryan notes that there is in fact nothing left to say. He's giving up on his brother. "I want you out of Newport," Ryan says, as if this is a game of Risk and he can just move all his colored pieces into Trey's tiny territory. Trey can't believe Ryan's turning his back on his brother, his blood. "Granted, I got a little more of Dad's bad..." Trey begins. The whole DNA argument falls flat: "You gotta go, Trey," Ryan interrupts. Trey stares at Ryan, almost unable to believe that he can't win him over, but sure enough, Ryan doesn't flinch. "Okay. I'll be gone first thing in the morning," Trey says. Ryan nods, sets his jaw defiantly, and leaves in a whirl of self-righteousness.
Julie is trying to make coffee, but she's having trouble. Then why did she lug the coffee maker out onto the patio? If you don't know how to use it, leave it where it is. Jimmy arrives to save the day, bearing coffee and donuts from 7-11. She is delighted, because her attempts at cooking and other domestic affairs during her marriage were about as effective as Caleb's heart. Jimmy suggests that the three of them take the boat to Catalina for a family day trip, but Julie shoots him down by saying that Marissa tends to be nocturnal. Jimmy isn't daunted, since Marissa is a lot less fun to flirt with, on account of her being both humorless and his daughter. He suggests that they go without their spawn. Julie is tempted by the idea of a fun day out, so she agrees to write Marissa a note and go with Jimmy by herself.
Seth is pouring himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen when Sandy appears. Apparently, Kirsten has already gone to the spa, so this is Sandy's big moment. Seth gives him a lead-in, saying that he's glad Kirsten gets a day to relax because she hasn't been herself lately. "She's suffering right now," Sandy says. Seth interprets this to be about Caleb. "Oh, it's bigger than that, Seth," Sandy exhales. They meet eyes. "Your mother has a drinking problem," Sandy says. "She needs help." Seth nods and bitterly wonders if this has to do with the SURIAK Brightly Colored Bedroom Set leaflet he found in Sandy's study, which Sandy conveniently didn't mention to anybody else. Sandy says he was hoping he could help Kirsten himself; failing that, he had to wait for the right time. Seth wonders why they can't just ask Kirsten to stop, rather than send her away; Sandy quietly says that he tried that, and that she can't stop. Coming around the island so that he's to Seth, Sandy breaks it to him that the intervention will be staged that afternoon. "What?" Seth gasps. "Is this, like an Afterschool Special? Her dad died. She's sad. She's having a few drinks." Sandy knows, but he says this has been going on longer than that, finally confessing to Seth that Kirsten's car accident most likely had to do with the fact that she had been drinking. Seth is galled that Sandy didn't see fit to mention this before, although Seth isn't exactly the authority on how to handle your relationships in a sane and sensible manner. Still, he feels both excluded and then broadsided worse than Kirsten's rental Jeep. He points out that, for all he knows, it was Sandy who drove her to drink, claiming it's been obvious all year that something's wrong between the two of them. Sandy is empathetic, but Seth insists that showing support by shipping her away by herself is wrong. "I'm just not going to be a part of it," he insists. "You are part of it, whether you want to be or not. You wanna run away again? Get in the boat and sail away? You mother needs you," Sandy says with vigor.
Just then, Ryan arrives home, and Sandy calls him into the kitchen. "Yeah, apparently, Mom's a drunk and today's the intervention. Plan your afternoon accordingly," Seth brats, stomping off upstairs. Ryan stares at the floor, then offers -- without making eye contact with Sandy, which is actually kind of appropriate for him -- to talk to Seth and show him that Sandy is doing the right thing. Sandy smiles sadly, but insists that it's his job to do that. Great scene, although I wish the show had involved Ryan a bit more in this. Still, I'm happy for any Seth-Sandy interaction that feels real, and that one did.
Marissa has a new wound to study in the mirror: her forehead. Mischa Barton is getting plenty of practice looking at herself curiously in the mirror. Summer knocks on the door -- hey! More manners! Has the ghost of Emily Post started haunting Newport? Summer plops down on the bed and invites Marissa to a day of pancakes and then sunbathing to try to take their minds off all the recent trauma. Marissa is distracted. Summer gets her to agree to go, and then gingerly says that they can leave right after Marissa tells her exactly what's really going on with Trey. Marissa plays dumb. Summer: "A weird bruise on your neck, and a bad excuse from you? Weird tension with Trey, and you don't even bother to make up an excuse? Marissa, please don't lie to me. I'm your best friend, and I know something happened." Marissa, her back to Summer, starts to cry. Her shoulders shake. Summer approaches her carefully and caringly, and Marissa turns, throwing her arms around Summer and sobbing into her hair.
Sandy goes up to Seth's bedroom to finish their confrontation. "Maybe I should've told you earlier," he says. "I don't know. They left that chapter out of the manual." Seth asks how long Kirsten would be gone; Sandy isn't sure, but it could be a while, because she can't leave until she gets better. 'This isn't...this isn't supposed to happen to us," Seth murmurs, confused. "We're not that family." Yes. Boozing is for Coopers, apparently. Maybe Sandy should take the Marissa approach and find Kirsten a lesbian lover to cure her of the rage and the drinking problem. Sandy shrugs that all families have their crosses to bear, and theirs is fashioned out of empty vodka bottles and wine corks. Seth isn't sure he can go through with the intervention. "I get it," Sandy says lovingly. The doorbell rings -- God, it's like music to my soul -- and Sandy realizes that it's Dr. Roswell, there to help with the carefrontation. "I'm sorry," Seth says, heartbroken. Sandy puts an arm around his son, kisses his forehead, and then hugs him to his chest. Aw.
Hailey drives Kirsten home from the spa, feeling guilty that her sister is all cheerful about going home when Hailey knows full well she'll only be there long enough to hear hard truths and pack her suitcase. When they get home, Sandy emerges from the kitchen and asks her to join him for a chat. Kirsten is confused by the mystery, doubly so when she sees Dr. Roswell. Ever the lady -- well, when she's sober -- Kirsten beams that she wasn't expecting them to have company. Dr. Roswell steps forward and very bluntly introduces himself: "Your family requested I be here today to help them lead an intervention." "Uh, okay, what for? Why?" Kirsten says, the perfect picture of deliberate cluelessness. "We're all here because we are worried you have an addiction to alcohol," Dr. Roswell says. "Each person wants to share concern." Kirsten is frosty through her faltering smile: "Well, that's very nice of everybody, but not necessary." Dr. Roswell proceeds, though, calling Sandy up first. Sandy says that he's sorry, and that he knows how hard this must be for her to hear, but he simply doesn't want to watch her hurt herself anymore. Kirsten tells him he's overreacting, desperation creeping in to her voice; she badly wants someone to tell her that this is all a nightmare. Dr. Roswell apparently thinks Sandy has said enough, because he calls on Hailey. "Kiks, you know our history. You know Mom battled it, and you know if it was me, you'd be doing the same thing," Hailey says. I have to say, Hailey might well be a fine actress, but compared to the work everyone's been doing on this show lately, she sounds like such a wooden amateur. Kirsten is galled by her sister: "All the time you were partying and doing drugs, I just encouraged you to make better choices, I didn't lock you up."
Ryan is up . He steps forward with timidity. Kirsten's features harden like cement. "Oh, don't you say a word. I let you into this house," she threatens. Chilling. Ryan doesn't miss a beat: "Yes, you did, because my own mom couldn't take care of me, because she wouldn't get help even though I asked her to," he says intensely. "I don't want to see that happen again to someone I love." Ryan can barely look at Kirsten, because this kind of raw emotion isn't his style, making it all the more meaningful that he's saying it. But it's not enough; only when Kirsten tries to make an indignant exit, whirls around, and sees Seth standing in the doorframe, does her resolve crumble. "Mom, please. You've got to do this," he says very simply. Kirsten's lips start to tremble, she wrinkles her nose as a last-ditch effort to gain control, and folds at the waist when she can't. Sandy comes up to let her lean on him, and gradually the whole room -- well, minus Dr. Roswell, because that would be creepy -- surrounds her in one giant hug. Very well-acted scene; my only complaint is that it was shockingly easy to get her to go, in the end, and I kind of wish we'd had more time with the intervention, because some really good stuff might've come out of everybody getting more than two lines to say to Kirsten. Especially Ryan; that's a relationship I really want them to mine more season, if they're not going to do it now. But as usual, Kelly Rowan rocked it so hard that you buy the fact that she knew she didn't have the strength to fight everyone and fight herself. I'm becoming a total fangirl for her acting, and it's a real shame that she will never get an Emmy nomination for her work because she's not on a show that's poncey enough to be considered a trove of good acting.
Seth and Ryan are idly watching television, when they turn in unison to see Kirsten hugging Hailey in the hallway. Kirsten is about to leave for SURIAK Treatment Center and Space-Age Desk Lamp Assembly Plant. "Aren't you glad you came back for all this fun?" Kirsten says, humiliated. Hailey softly says she is glad to have been here, and they hug farewell. Kirsten blows out her cheeks and turns to her boys. "I'm so sorry that I put you both through this," she says tremulously. Ryan just wants her to get better. "You gonna be okay?" she asks Seth, her voice actually breaking. Nice that she trusts Ryan to be so self-sufficient, while Seth is the delicate flower. She's probably not wrong, though. Seth tries for bravado, insisting that they'll be great, and that he'll keep Sandy busy by setting up a stage in the living room where he can belt out terrible show tunes. I really want a ticket to that concert. "I have the takeout menus covered," Ryan says. Seth offers to order: "I'm good with the phone." Kirsten tears up and embraces them suddenly. "I love you both so much," she cries. Outside, she gets in the car, and waves a forlorn goodbye as Sandy drives her off to Sweden.
Julie and Jimmy come home from Catalina, giddy and gleeful from a day of verbal foreplay. Julie admits that she feels a tad guilty about flitting around on cloud nine while Caleb is maggot-bait in his final resting place. Jimmy figures it's fine, since Julie didn't really love Caleb anyway, and their marriage was jacked up. I still say that since he died on her watch and she tried to save him, she might actually be a little traumatized. Julie and Jimmy flirt about how great their marriage was, and Jimmy grabs her hand to ask if she'll give them a second chance. "We're both older and wiser now," he points out. "Well, I'm certainly wiser," Julie cracks.
Trey walks out of his bedroom and jumps when he sees a pouty Jess sitting on his couch. I understand; the sight frightened me a little, too. When she's not smiling, her whole face droops like Huckleberry Hound. She's upset that Trey's leaving, apparently, and wants him to flee to Vegas with her instead. To sweeten the deal, she takes out a few wads of cash from the drug deal. "You a gambler, Trey?" she pants. "I hooked up with you," he replies. Jess gets up and tongues him roughly before telling him she'll be back at 8, right after she packs a bag and steals her stepfather's BMW. That girl is so smart. They'll never trace an expensive stolen car with license plates on it! Somebody call Mensa.
As the sun sets lazily, Seth and Ryan float around in the pool, shirtless. A thousand orgasms go off in pants around the country. Seth is being indecisive about what would yank him out of his doldrums, so Ryan suggests finding an old-age home that's up for some shuffleboard. "I'm not in the mood for old people," Seth pouts. Ryan then offers up an IMAX movie about sharks. "All right," Seth says languidly. "I like sharks." Well, I guess that's how we know he and I are not meant to be. All my recurring nightmares when I was little were about sharks, and how they always tried to eat me and my sisters while we were playing Floating Monopoly. (I don't know.) The doorbell rings for the millionth time in this episode, and it still sounds like flights of angels exalting the heavens. "The way things have been going," Seth says, "I bet that's Oliver." Hee. I do love that the show got everyone with all the fake spoilers about Oliver coming back, only to giggle at us all with this line.
Summer is at the door, desperate to talk to Seth. It's a nice piece of continuity that his shirt seems to be wet around the neck, making it look like he really did pull it on right after he got out of the pool. Summer hems and haws, and then breaks it to Seth that Trey tried to rape Marissa while Seth and Ryan were in Miami. "She didn't tell Ryan because he's Ryan, and who knows what he would do," Summer frets. Except, everybody knows what he would do. He would beat Trey into a DNA cloud. Seth, though, insists that Ryan has to know. Which really should not be his decision: it's Marissa's secret to tell, and therefore, it's her conversation to have. If Seth's so worried, he should be talking to Marissa first. But Seth is caught up in whether it might happen again, and even to Summer, and just doesn't think it's the kind of information he can withhold. I'm surprised Ryan didn't already tell Seth that he scared Trey out of town, a piece of knowledge that might have forestalled the coming events, but oh well. That's why I don't write this stuff.
When Kirsten arrives at SURIAK Low-Cost Dining Room Set, Dr. Roswell greets her warmly and then gently asks to see her bag. Searching it is a matter of routine. Kirsten looks faintly mortified but doesn't protest, hopefully because all he'll find in there is some smut books, tampons, and last season's shirts. When they get to her lush room, it looks like it belongs in a Bed & Breakfast somewhere in the country, with nary a piece of streamlined, easily assembled furniture in sight. Sandy tries to cheer her up by complimenting the sheet thread-count and the nice-sized bed. All the better to sleep in alone, my dear Sandy; that's a bit of a lonely thing to point out, eh? Kirsten looks wigged the whole time, but calmly, if that makes any sense. A nurse knocks and tells Kirsten that there's a meeting for new guests; it's here that she drops the bomb that Kirsten can't make calls for seventy-two hours because it's a forced detox time. Sandy and Kirsten take a private minute to say goodbye. "I'm so sorry, Sandy," Kirsten manages. "What I said to you, and put you through..." I would like it if Sandy apologized, too, but he doesn't; he does stare right into her eyes and promise that even if they bend things, it doesn't mean their marriage can break. They leave her room, he pats her face, kisses her one last time on the lips, and walks away. Kirsten blows a kiss when Sandy turns back, then gives a bracing sigh when he disappears from view. I feel lonely just watching her.
Seth stops Ryan from getting ready for the movie, telling him that he has some bad news but that Ryan has to promise not to go "all old-school Ryan Atwood" when he hears it. Which is exactly what he knows full well will happen; he might as well be handing Ryan his shit-kicking boots. "What is it?" Ryan asks. "It's upsetting," Seth hedges. Ryan is totally impatient, and rightly, so Seth stumbles and bumbles through telling him that Trey tried to force himself on Marissa, and that she fought him off, which explains the cut on Trey's face. Ryan's eyes glaze over during this speech, and he sits down slowly, trying to make sense of this. It's like he just lost any shred of hope that his big brother would morph into the hero every little kid wants, and he's growing up before his time all over again. "All year I have tried to be a different person," he metas hollowly. Then he looks up at Seth. "I can't do that anymore," he says, flinty. The only thing that ruins the scene is when Seth asks Ryan what he's going to do, and Ryan intones, "Settle this with Trey. ONCE AND FOR ALL." I'd have preferred it if it just ended on Ryan's last line. But, hey, the actors I always thought were the weak links -- Ben and Mischa -- have gotten much better even in just the few episodes I've recapped, so I'm feeling like that outweighs the irritating.
Jimmy lights a candle on the Cooper-Nichol patio, very comfortable with moving in on Caleb's territory before the old tyrant is even cold in his coffin. Marissa sees him making merry with Julie and asks what's happening. Julie clears her throat and says that Jimmy's planning to stay with them while they get settled -- huh? Are they moving? -- and then perhaps a little while after that. "If that's okay with you," Jimmy interrupts. Julie says that she thought a family trip with Caitlyn might be in order that summer. "Again, if that's okay with you," Jimmy says. Nice to know that the Cooper family is a dictatorship. Marissa is startled by this, but decides that anything that brings Jimmy home is a good idea in her book. Amen. Someone's going to have to help Julie run the Newport Group. And other than Kirsten's upcoming in-depth review of the SURIAK Storage Solutions manufacturing plant, they don't seem to have much content for Newport Living these days, unless they hire Jess to write a searing exposé entitled, "Doin' It: Why Garden Grove-Style Is Some Weak-Ass Crunk, Homeslice." Marissa hugs Jimmy, and then timidly embraces her mother as well. Julie looks like she's in seventh heaven now that Marissa isn't acting like she stepped in a big pile of her mother and is having trouble getting the stain out of her ballet flats. "I'd really love for us to be a family again," Marissa says sweetly. Her phone rings, excusing her from this special tableau; it's Seth and Summer, babbling that Ryan knows about Trey and is off to confront him. They're giving chase, but Marissa is closer and might get there first. She bolts, to the consternation of her parents.
Ryan bangs angrily on Trey's door. Trey hides the gun under his pillow before answering it; he seems hopeful to see his brother. "I know what happened," Ryan seethes. "I know what happened with you and Marissa. How could you, man? I would have done anything for you!" Trey backpedals, insisting that he was just stoned and out of his mind and out of control, and that it was an accident. But somehow this has ceased to be about Marissa -- Ryan has an older score to settle. "It wasn't my idea, Trey. I didn't want to steal that car," Ryan says, suddenly a wounded puppy. Trey bitterly sneers that it worked out just fine, then, because Trey went to jail for it while Ryan got the good life. "You had to destroy it -- you had to hurt her, huh?" Ryan screams. But Trey grabs the gun from its hiding spot and points it at Ryan. "What, you're going to shoot me, is that how this ends?" Ryan asks, so disillusioned by now. Trey insists that that's up to Ryan -- if he leaves, he'll be unscathed. Ryan stares at Trey, and then drops his hands and shakes his head, trying to look resigned. Trey lowers the gun, just as Ryan thought he would; Ryan chooses this moment to emit a gutteral yawp and charge at his brother, pounding him against the wall. Ryan punches Trey in the head four times; then they each do that creepy thing where they push on each other's faces for a while. I'm always afraid that's going to violate a body part I'm terrified of anyone violating. Ryan manages to slap Trey against the floor four more times, and then goes for a trio of knees to the head. Trey manages to get enough leverage to shove Ryan onto the glass coffee table, which shatters under him. Trey pounces on Ryan, they scuffle, and Ryan ends up pinned. Trey starts squeezing the life out of Ryan.
Just then, Marissa enters. "Oh my God, stop it, you're killing him," she says, with all the urgency of a girl pissed off that her manicurist accidentally got some "Mauve-in' On Up" on her skin. Marissa scrambles over and starts pounding on Trey's back as hard as she can -- so, about as hard as Mr. Burns could, if he'd taken a lot of vitamins that particular day. Trey smacks her away and she staggers backward, just as Ryan's face turns purple and Trey starts speaking only in grunts. "UNNNGGGGGHHHH," he growls, fumbling around on his coffee table for the old-school beige phone he picked up precisely for this purpose, so that no blood would get on his sleek black cordless phone/answering machine unit. (Actually, I am going to guess that maybe the crap phone came with the place, and Trey packed his other phone to take with him, but...well, that's a stretch. I don't know why I'm trying to be giving.) Trey rips the phone out of the wall with a caveman's moan, proving his masculinity above any and all wee little electrical outlets and skinny cords. Trey lets out more jumbled growls as he raises the phone in the air and angles Ryan's head in such a way that the impact will crack his skull. Marissa sees the gun, grabs it, and fires just as Trey's about to make his downswing. The cool song from the funeral procession kicks in just as Trey's body stiffens from the shock. He lifts his head, blood pooling on his lips. In a really lovely shot, we get a close-up of the Atwood Family Wifebeater -- I'm talking about the shirt, not a particular family member -- as blood appears on it, then starts to pour through the thin cotton. Trey jerks his head towards a frightened and horrified Marissa, and gives her what looks like a respectful smile, like, "Man, you have more balls than I thought," while he also seems to be thinking that he was right to figure the future held nothing for him. It's a very sad moment, well-acted, and Trey collapses to the floor. Ryan crawls away from him, staggering toward Marissa, probably too in shock to consider checking Trey for a pulse. Seth and Summer appear in the doorway, and all four stare at Trey's body as we watch from above, jointly wondering what the hell happens now.