You know, I really miss that opening theme. This episode, by the way, is directed by former thirtysomething Peter Horton, who seems to have a penchant for edits that feel like hiccups in the space-time continuum. They're annoying.
We open with a close-up of Rick's computer desktop, which is wallpapered with a family picture from his and Lily's wedding. What a sap. "You've got mail!" his computer says. We cut to a close-up of his cursor scrolling down a list of clients.
Soliloquy Rick complains, "Email. The great leveler. In about six seconds you can get three polite 'no's on presentations that took you eighty-six hours to finish. And one friendly 'hi' from Amber, a hot college vixen. The 'no's are real; Amber isn't." Tell that to her parents. They must be so proud. Soliloquy Rick casts a sullen glance at the camera and sulks, "I need a job."
Lily creeps into the living room in her sweats, whispering, "It's 5:45 AM. What're you doing?" She wraps her arms around Rick from behind and gives him a squeeze. He quips about the wife and kids she doesn't know about. She tells him to say hi for her, and then asks whether he's okay. He gives her a subdued assurance that he's fine, and she smoothes his hair and plants a kiss on his forehead. "I like you unemployed," she says. "I get you home more often." That novelty should wear off pretty quickly. She ruffles his hair and heads back toward the stairs, telling him to come back to bed. He absently agrees.
Cut to a sequence of Rick at his office, putting together Sammler and Associates promotional packages. In the background, we hear overlapping snippets of his cold calls to potential clients. A secretary cuts through all the madness by plunking a brown paper bag on his desk. "Pad thai," he says with feigned surprise. "Every day, and every day you act surprised," she answers. He's broke, but eating pad thai every day for lunch? Hasn't he heard of brown-bagging it? As she walks away, Sam Blue materializes in the doorway. He spreads his arms wide and announces, "Rico!" This time Rick really is surprised. He stands slowly, amazed to see Sam, and they do the back-slapping man-hug thing. "You're looking large, my brother!" Sam says. Sam is very white. Rick asks what happened to him, and adds "I must have waited on that racquetball court for three hours." Sam says he went to Rome, the way most people would say they got held up in traffic, and asks, "Is that pad thai?"
Cut to them sprawled out on the floor, because they're just way too cool to sit at a desk and eat. There's quite a spread of food in front of them, considering Rick had only ordered lunch for himself. Rick asks about Rome, and Sam jokes that he saw a whole bunch of things ending in "-nini," ate "about nine thousand of those sandwiches they iron, and spent a lot of time studying a great big stone foot." ["Hey! That foot was on The Amazing Race this week!" -- Wing Chun] He shovels in a pile of food with his chopsticks. "And?" Rick asks. Sam chews for a few seconds, wipes at his mouth, and casts his eyes on the floor before muttering, "I, uh, left Janine." He gets up and paces off-screen, adding, "But, it was on its way. You know that." Rick peers out from beneath his floppy bangs and says he's sorry. "Me too," Sam says.
Cut to Phil's, which is finally empty of boxes and crap. Judy, Lily, and Jake are standing around surveying the space. "Okay, so it's a library, a bookstore, and a restaurant," Judy says, as if they haven't heard about the idea like a million times. She gestures at an area of the floor and says she thinks the couches should go there, so it'll feel like "home." Jake steps forward, dubiously saying, "So, people eat off couches." Judy squinches her face at him and says, "Yeah. Do you like the idea?" It sounds really messy to me.
Soliloquy Jake looks pained up there on the Stool, as he tries to force some air into his lungs and wonders just what the hell he's gotten himself into.
"Great!" Jake bullshits to Judy. He points to a wall and asks whether Judy still wants to knock it out to put in an office. "Yeah, if we all agree," Judy says, spinning to look at Lily for confirmation. Is it Saturday? Why isn't Lily at the radio station? And I thought Judy said she didn't need Lily anymore, and didn't want her help with things. I don't get it. Anyway, Jake starts rambling on, talking faster and faster about all the changes they're making, and trying to convince himself that change is a good thing, and that he's not insane to be working for a woman who wants to open a restaurant where people eat off their laps and leave food bits all over the merchandise. Jake mentions his contractor, and Judy widens her eyes and stares apprehensively at her feet.
Soliloquy Judy looks down from the stool and finds that she's surrounded by a sea of grapefruits...oranges? I don't know. They're some kind of round fruits, and some of them are squished. Since I forgot to drop acid at the beginning of the episode, I have no idea what they're supposed to mean. ["Contractor...Will Gluck...Florida...citrus fruit?" -- Wing Chun]
Jake is still blathering about his contractor, and Judy's still looking uncomfortable. When Jake finally pauses for breath, Judy jumps in to tell him....
Hang on. First we have to watch Soliloquy Judy treading all over the fruits and squashing them loudly. Okay....
"I thought I might talk to Rick," Judy tells Jake. She turns and smiles at Lily, who frowns thoughtfully. Jake makes himself say that it's a great idea. He looks like he may pass out. Judy goes on about Rick while Jake reminds himself that breathing is actually a very simple matter. Judy concludes by reminding Jake that he and Rick like one another, and that Rick could really use the work. Jake forces a smile and says, "There's no question about it. Rick's the guy!" They're interrupted by Tiffany, who comes in with a big, bright hello.
Soliloquy Jake's not looking so good. "Did I mention I'm going to be a daddy?" he asks with false enthusiasm. His smile fades, and he adds, "Again."
Lily asks Tiffany how she's feeling, so Tiffany can answer that she's seeing everyone's future now, and remind us what a quirky girl she is. Tiffany turns to Jake and quietly says, "It's a bad time, right?" He sort of assures her that it isn't, and she yammers on about a stroller that she saw marked down 80% because "all the wheels are bent." Oi. Jake takes her by the elbow and guides her somewhere private to talk, promising Judy and Lily that they'll be right back. Lily muses to Judy, "I just have this feeling that it's a girl. Jake'll have three daughters."
Cut to Rick and Sam, still sitting on the floor of Rick's office. Sam resolutely says, "Hey, I'm single for the first time since 1981." He pauses for a second and wonders, "Is the dating scene the same? Should I grow my sideburns back? What do you think?" I wish Rick would tell him to bust out the mousse and the parachute pants. Instead, Rick just asks, "What are you going to do?" I think we all know what he's going to do. Or who, I guess I should say. Sam pretends he doesn't know, and asks what Rick thinks he should do. Rick says he doesn't know. Big surprise there.
Cut to Judy asking Lily for a favor regarding Rick and the job. Lily gushes that it's so generous of Judy to offer Rick the work, because she really doesn't have to, and Judy acts like she doesn't know she's bailing Rick out. The favor she wants is for Lily not to tell Rick; Judy wants to do it. Lily cocks her head to the side and studies Judy for a second before saying, "Sure." The plucky guitars make their seasonal debut at that very moment, however, so we all know how much that promise is worth.
Back to Rick and Sam. "You gonna call Judy?" Rick asks. "Oh, not yet," Sam says with a sigh. He looks at Rick uncertainly while the plucky guitars pluck on. Oh, he is so going to call her. Rick knows it, too. Sam tells Rick not to let Judy know that he left his wife. Rick promises he won't. Okay, so Lily has a secret, and Rick has a secret, and the plucky guitars are going full tilt. I really have to wonder where this is going. Rick points out that Judy's going to find out anyway, since she's friends with Karen, and Karen is friends with Janine. Sam impatiently says, "I know, I know!" He says he just wants some time to see how Jamie's doing. Who the hell is Jamie? ["His kid?" -- Wing Chun] He also claims that he doesn't want to hurt Judy. Liar. He wants to make her hurt so good.
"I want to be the one," Judy says, meaning that she thinks the news about the job should come from her. Lily agrees. Judy stares at her hard, and Lily swears that she won't tell.
"Promise me," Sam demands. "I swear," Rick says.
I swear, too, but it's only because I'm sick of this already. Move on!
Sam whips a fortune cookie at Rick's ass, and through the miracles of modern editing, it turns into a Nerf football the two are tossing back and forth. There's a hiccup edit, and suddenly Rick is flipping through a pile of papers, and Sam is holding the football, hesitantly trying to bring up a question. He tells Rick that he's in a "little trouble here." He asks Rick whether he knows a hotelier named Colin Fleisher. "Groovy lobbies, Matisse headboards," Rick replies, which I guess means he's heard of him. Well, it turns out that Fleisher bought four of Sam's sculptures, and then he bought a "dump" in Lincoln Park, and he wants Sam to design it. "What do you need me for?" Rick wants to know, moving across the office. Sam trails after him and says, "Well, I need an architect, and a partner, and I just...really need your help." Rick expresses his enthusiasm over the prospect of an actual job by asking, "You still using people, Sam?" Because as the whole Miles thing showed us, Rick doesn't like to be used. Sam assures Rick that he's out to exploit him and sarcastically insults Rick's abilities. "I'm touched and flattered," Rick mutters, flipping through a file. "So, you gonna do this, or what?" Sam asks. Rick says, "Tell me more."
Cut to Lily in the bathroom of Manning Manor, cutting her toenails. Rick echoes my shock and dismay by observing, "You have toenails. That grow." She assures him it's only the one foot that's like that, which is good, because that's not freaky at all. Rick asks her what she thinks of him and Sam working together. "I think it's a great opportunity. I think you could have a lot of fun," she replies, sounding like a bad actor on a promotional video. "But...?" Rick asks. She assures him there isn't one. "I need this, Lil," he informs her, in case she's somehow missed the fact that there's been no money rolling in. He adds, "And then it literally comes out of the blue..." Oh, please tell me he didn't just say that. He needles some more until Lily finally states, "He's a married man."
Soliloquy Rick pops up to pull a face and let us know that he has no idea what she's talking about, either.
Lily explains that Sam's a married man who had an affair with her sister. "Which means I can't trust him?" Rick asks. He tries to argue that you can't judge a person's character by how they act in a marriage, but Lily's not really buying it. She pulls a few Kleenexes out of the box, rubs her hands, and walks away, basically letting him know that he's wasting his breath. Rick keeps on talking. Finally, Lily levels him with a look that shuts him up, and simply says, "You're an idiot." She shuts off the bathroom lights on him. That's the kind of love and support that'll make a marriage work.
Cut to Lily and Rick reading in bed. Only, they're not alone. Those plucky guitars are in there with them. Rick stares at Lily while she stares at her book. There's another hiccup edit, so Rick suddenly works up the nerve to talk again. He's still going on about Sam, trying to convince Lily that Sam's really not a bad guy because he's related to Stephen Stills. Lily "mmms" absently without looking up from her book. Rick says that Sam used to go around in school asking girls, "Are you my Judy Blue Eyes?" Oh, like that's going to convince her that Sam's not a creep. Lily flatly points out that Judy's eyes are brown. Rick says he knows. "With little green flecks," Lily adds stonily. What is her problem, anyway?
Cut to a little later, after the lights are out in their bedroom. Lily's lying with her back to Rick, and he leans over to kiss her shoulder suggestively. "I'm way too tired," she groans. Oh, just do everyone a favor and take it, Lily. After another of those stupid time seizures, Rick's suddenly at her neck. She smiles and growls, "Mmmm, you know that makes me crazy." Yet another goddam hiccup, and they're giggling hysterically. I don't even want to know. Suddenly, it's all over, and they're cuddling together. Rick's right back to talking about Sam, which I have to admit, would make me mental if I were Lily. "He really liked her," Rick insists. Lily says she asked Judy at the time what she hoped to "get from a married man." Hmmm, what did you just get from a married man? Rick points out that "there are all kinds of married men." Lily yanks on the blankets and rolls over, muttering, "There's one kind when you're thirty-five and Judy." She adds that "if you want to be a wife, start with an unmarried man. Shop in that aisle." Rick bites his tongue.
Soliloquy Rick shakes his head.
"He is in that aisle. He's in that aisle. He's unmarried," Rick sings like a canary.
Soliloquy Rick rolls his eyes at his own weakness and then slaps his forehead for emphasis. He manages to throw himself backward off the Stool. I think it's safe to say that no one watches this show for its physical comedy.
Rick flips on the bedside lamp as Lily rolls over with a look of shock. More plucky guitars. Lily's eyes demand an explanation. Rick waves his arms and lamely says, "He went to Rome. He looked at feet." "'Feet'?" Lily echoes. Rick begs her not to tell Judy, because he thinks she'll be mad at him for keeping Sam's new status a secret. "She hates me as it is," he adds.
Soliloquy Lily shoots us a knowing look with her finger over her mouth. As if anyone cares. Oh, look at you, you're so bad with your big, non-juicy secret.
Rick's still going on about how much Judy hates him, as if he and she haven't already resolved this issue on more than one occasion. Lily tries to protest, but Rick just keeps going on and on and on, so she just rolls over. When he finally shuts up, Lily looks up with a mischievous glint, as if she's about to burst.
Soliloquy Lily seconds the look and opens her mouth to speak.
Lily spills it: "Okay, she's going to ask you to redo the restaurant." She claps a hand over her eyes and rolls over, regretting it. Rick guppies for a full three seconds before muttering, "Maybe she doesn't hate me." On her side, Lily stares straight ahead and gripes, "I promised her I wouldn't tell you." "But you did?" "You did, too." They make each other promise to act surprised when they hear the big secrets for the second time. The plucky little guitar player's fingers must be bleeding by now. It makes me feel better to think so, anyway.
Cut to Sam spreading out a pile of photographs on the floor of Rick's office. "Okay, for want of a better phrase: the soul of the new hotel." Rick asks whether Fleisher wants Sam to design the pillow mints, too. "And the hookers," Sam quips. He explains to Rick that the hook of the Fleisher hotels is that the minute you walk in, everything whispers, "You're special." "Sounds like my house," Rick says. He stares at the pictures for a moment, then exhales loudly and says, "Okay." Sam also exhales loudly and says, "Okay." They're silent, blissfully silent, for a few seconds, until Sam announces, "I have to go to the bathroom." "So go to the bathroom," Rick says immediately. Sam shares that he just went an hour ago. "So don't go to the bathroom," Rick says. While I busy myself with pulling the pen from my eye, Sam asks Rick what his cholesterol is. If anyone cares, it's 150. Sam's is 247. Also, Rick has no ear hair. Sam asks whether they're dying. Rick says that only Sam is. You know, death is starting to look pretty good right about now. The receptionist has the phone in her hand and calls over, "It's Judy." Rick says to tell Judy that he'll call back. The receptionist clarifies that Judy is on her way up. Cue those plucky guitars. Sam starts looking for an escape route, saying, "I can't do this right now." "You're running away?" Rick asks with disbelief. "Uh, yes, actually," Sam answers, and tells Rick to call his cell phone once she's gone. Sam disappears out the back door as Judy comes in the front door. She gives Rick a bright "hey," to which he responds with self-conscious exuberance. Awkwardly, he tells Judy that she looks great. She smiles and says it could be because she lost weight. How could Judy lose any weight off that tiny little frame? Maybe she shaved off a ton of leg hair or something. Rick tells her "it shows." She points out that it was only half a pound. Faltering, he tells her again that she looks great, and she looks at him a little suspiciously before changing the subject to the business at hand. She tells him she has a surprise and grins as she paces away. He watches her and tries to plaster a blank look on his face. Which he's much better at when he's not trying, by the way.
Soliloquy Rick tries out a few expressions of curiosity. Badly. It's embarrassing.
Judy spins to face Rick, beaming, and says, "Rick --"
Soliloquy Rick stands there looking awkward and wondering what the hell his hands are for.
"I want you to redo my father's restaurant," Judy finishes. Rick tries out his surprised reactions for real, and they're just as smelly as his practice runs. He mimes and flails, and Judy prods, "Is this a good surprise?" She studies him closely. He insists that it is. Judy nods her head and knowingly says, "So, she told you." Rick's goofy smile fades and he insists, uncertainly, "No, she didn't." Judy asks whether Lily told him "there's, like, zero budget." Rick says they'll work it out. Judy finally notices the hotel pictures strewn across the floor and wonders whether it's a good time, since it looks like Rick's in the middle of something. Rick says it is, and Judy remembers that she left her list of ideas for Booklovers in the car. She makes for the door, and Rick lamely tries to stop her, asking if she thinks "that's wise." "Is what wise?" she asks. Rick's mind races, but all he can up with is, "Going to the car like that." Judy wonders what Rick's on, and sarcastically asks, "Do you recommend a different outfit?" He knows he's lost, and tells her she looks fine, so she heads for the door, careful not to turn her back on the crazy man.
Outside, it's pissing rain. Judy breaks for her car, and is soaked by the time she crawls inside. She scrambles around, looking in the back seat for her files, and glances out her side window in the process. Somehow, through her rain-streaked windows, she manages to spot Sam sitting in his car, which also has rain-streaked windows. He's on his cell phone, but their eyes lock. He ends his call, and they roll down their windows. He acts surprised to see her there, and they both explain that they're there visiting Rick. Judy stares at him for a second and asks, "What's that saying?" "I don't know. There are lots of sayings." Judy wracks her brain while Sam makes cracks, until she blurts, "There are no accidents! That one. Which is crazy, because there are. So many accidents." She asks how he is. He's okay, and she's "never better." Haltingly, they discover that they're both working with Rick; they agree that Rick is "very good," and that it's good they're both working with him, since maybe they'll run into one another again. After an uncomfortable pause, Judy finally asks, "How's your life?" He thinks about it for a few seconds and answers, "Okay. It's okay." Judy manages to say, "Good," although I don't think his answer is what she'd been hoping for. "Well..." he says, starting his car. She starts rolling up her window, and he pulls away. Once he's gone,. Judy covers her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She turns to watch him drive away as we fade to commercials.
"Lily, come on! He's your husband. He must've told you something about Sam," Judy pleads when we return. Lily ponders it for a second.
Soliloquy Lily picks up on the pondering, open-mouthed. Finally, she dishes, "He's related to Stephen Stills, distantly." She knows this isn't going to cut it.
At the restaurant, Lily adds, "On his mother's side." "That's it?" Judy whines. Lily grabs her coffee cup and scuttles away from the table to avoid Judy's prying eyes. Judy can't believe that Sam wouldn't tell Rick about his life, so Lily educates her: "Judy, men don't talk about their lives. If you listen to men talk, they talk about...new cars coming in." Oh yes, that's true. Just like my girlfriends and I only ever talk about new lipstick shades and boots. Okay, we do talk about boots. But still. Judy glumly decides that Sam must still be with his wife. She mutters, "So I was wrong. I was so sure. You know, I have got to stop fooling myself! I have got to stop thinking people can change just because I want them to. It's like with Will Gluck. He has to go his way, and I have to go mine." Oh, so she does remember Will. Lily, hating to hear Judy so down, blurts, "Okay, Judy! He's free." Judy stops and stares. Lily confesses, "He told Rick, who told me, and he made me promise not to tell." Cautiously, Judy asks whether that means Sam could be getting divorced. Lily warns that it may just be a separation. Judy agrees, but in her mind, she's already putting the satin sheets on her bed. Lily threatens that she doesn't want to see Judy get her hopes up, and she doesn't want to see her get hurt again. Judy's suddenly a sage: "Well, I'm going to [get hurt again], Lil. And I'll keep on surviving. And each time I'll learn some necessary fact about love that will never apply again. I still don't know if I learned anything from Sam. I wonder if he learned anything from me?" I could speculate here, but since I like Judy, I won't.
Jake interrupts the impromptu Lessons in Love 101 lecture by barreling through the front door with a load of plastic crates. He plops them down and asks Judy whether she's had "any brilliant ideas today." Judy makes some modest comment, and Jake assures her that her ideas are "great. And they've given [him] great ideas." Somewhere in his twisted psyche, a baby cries. Lily catches his reaction to it and asks whether he's okay. He lies that he is.
Soliloquy Jake's openly sweating up there on the Stool, though, listening to that baby cry. Through his labored breathing, he pants, "I was thinking maybe Chloe, if it's a girl." He nods a couple times, staring unblinkingly at the camera. "But then it would be Zoe and Chloe."
"Do you want some water?" Lily asks. Jake barks out a condescending laugh and insists that he's okay, adding, "You're just like your dad. You love to worry."
Back on the Stool, Soliloquy Jake's not holding it together too well. He looks like I did this past weekend, actually, when I woke up after a solid night of debauchery. His cheeks puff out and he doubles over. He manages to groan, "Excuse me!" before rushing off-screen to unleash the dragon.
Back at the restaurant, Jake tries to figure out what to do with himself, and finally decides he's going to go splash some water on his face. Lily watches him stagger off, concerned. "I'm worried about him," she admits to Judy. "Am I still allowed to do that?"
Cut to Rick and some short guy who looks like The Critic, but with glasses. It's Fleisher, the hotelier. They're climbing an elaborate staircase in an empty old hotel. Fleisher leads Rick to a balcony that overlooks the main foyer, grandly informing him that Theodore Dreiser wrote Sister Carrie in that very hotel. He's adamant that, unlike that book, the hotel will not be depressing. He snaps his fingers and says, "When I heard 'Dreiser,' I got the vision. Every single one of my hotels, from Boston to Seattle to South Beach, they all started with the vision." He sees this one full of books, and every room will have a desk -- "ha ha!" -- and paper and a fountain pen designed by Sam, "which you can take home with you for ninety-six bucks." He pulls up his hands, which have been hanging limply from his wrists while he's rattled on, and holds them up, proclaiming, "And it will be called --" "The Dreiser," Rick blurts. Fleisher drops his hands and snarks, "Who are you? Sam says you're great. Sam's great. Sam must know." He folds his arms and demands, "Are you great?" Rick squirms: "Well, I'm no Stanley Tigerman." Fleisher blandly informs him that Tigerman designed his lake house. Rick tries to continue with some pathetic line about being a "working artist," but Fleisher's cell phone rings. He tells Rick he'll be with him in a minute, studies the call display on his phone, decides the caller can "go to hell, go to hell, go to hell," and flips the phone closed without answering. He turns his attention back to Rick, saying, "Rick Sammler," as if it finally rings a bell. He chuckles as he puts it all together and announces, "You were involved with the late, great Miles Drentell, right?" Rick reluctantly admits it. Fleisher wags a finger at him: "And you got indicted." Rick denies it. Fleisher mutters an understanding "I've been indicted; it happens." Rick firmly insists that it did not happen to him.
Sam strolls into the hotel lobby, snagging Fleisher's attention away from Rick. Hands shoved in his pockets, Sam lazily drawls, "So -- we fired yet?" Fleisher tells him not yet, and as we hiccup edit to Sam reaching the top of the stairs, Fleisher snarks, "How come you're late, Sam? Turning tricks in the park again?" "A girl's gotta make a living somehow," Sam retorts. They shake hands slickly and Fleisher informs Sam that his wife finally moved an old sculpture out of the bedroom to make room for one of his. "Oh, well, that doesn't bode well for your marriage!" Sam oozes. He quickly changes the subject to the hotel and wanders off toward a bank of windows, marveling over the building. Fleisher, suddenly humorless (although that implies he was humorous to begin with, doesn't it?), demands, "Where are the sketches, Sam?" He sounds like he's addressing a delinquent child. Sam's taking it all very lightly, laughing out some response in the distance, so Fleisher turns a hardened eye on Rick, grating, "He said he'd have sketches for me today. Where are they?" Sam takes the heat off Rick, loudly saying that he needs to "be tense to work." Fleisher is "too nice" to him. Fleisher sarcastically announces, "Oh, he wants me to be mean to him. I'll call mean people, I'll bring them here. They'll rip your heart out, just for fun!" Sam's prattling on in the background. Fleisher turns to Rick, pointing over his shoulder at Sam, and mutters, "Artists, huh? He's the artist?" Rick confirms it. Fleisher says, "I never argue with the talent. I own the talent, but I never argue with the talent." Sam offers to take Rick on "a little tour." Fleisher warns them, "Don't break anything," and looks distinctly unimpressed as they walk away.
Later, back at the office, Rick and Sam are doing battle across a ping-pong table. The camera cuts back and forth from Rick's determined, almost angry face to Sam's overwhelmed expression. He misses a shot and as he bends to retrieve the ball, calmly says, "You're, uh, you're pissed. About Colin." Rick sends the ball back over the net, past Sam, and declares, "I don't get mad, I get even." Oh, please. Although I have to give Billy Campbell props for getting that out with a straight face.
Cut to Rick and Sam standing around the water cooler. Sam concedes that he was a "jerk." "Considering he was a client, yeah," Rick agrees. Sam explains that his artistic temperament is such that he can only perform under pressure. He says, "In second grade, I'd always hand in those little projects days late; still got the best grade. I'd work on it in therapy, but I can't seem to show up on time." He smiles into his water cup and scuttles away, very pleased with himself. Rick? Not so pleased. He follows Sam and finds him sitting on the floor bouncing a ping-pong ball off a paddle. Rick snatches the ball out of the air and informs Sam that he has to "get something on paper." Sam hangs his head, and Rick says, "I don't need him mad at me, after the year I've had." Sammler Pity Party, table for one. Sorry, man, but you've only got yourself to blame for the year and a half you've had. Sam goes back to bouncing the ball. The editor's finger spasms and cuts out ten seconds of tape, so we suddenly see Sam angrily knocking the ball away.
Cut to Jake and Tiffany in what appears to be an attic. I'm not sure if it's at Manning Manor, but it's full of old baby stuff. Tiffany's bubbling away, as usual, this time about how much she misses her mom now that the baby's almost due. Jake's rifling through old boxes and barely listening to her. Tiffany asks whether Lily was like that when she had her babies. Jake says, "I doubt it. No one could miss her mom." Hee. He fiddles with a mobile as Tiffany gleefully informs him that she has a feeling the baby might come early. Jake looks like a man whose stay of execution has been lifted.
Soliloquy Jake hunches over and tries to breathe.
Tiffany places a hand on Jake's shoulder and tells him he looks "a little pale." He insists that he's all right and goes back to the box. He pulls out an old pair of wingtips and remembers that they were the shoes he got married in. He complains that they hurt his feet. Tiffany runs her hand over his forehead and says, "You're all clammy." Jake distractedly insists that he's okay. He turns his attention to another box, as Tiffany starts blathering about words and how they get their meanings. "Take 'clammy.' Do clams stress out? They must. Hence...clammy." Or, it could be that clams are cold and damp, just like people who feel clammy. Is she really that dumb? Jake says that he's never thought about it before, and she grins, pleased with herself, and says, "I love knowing what stuff means." She notices Jake wiping at his face and having trouble breathing, and turns serious. "Hey, are you okay?" she asks. Predictably, Jake insists that he is. She holds her arms open, but he hesitates. "It's okay. It doesn't mean we're together," she promises. Jake curls into her embrace, sighing and looking troubled.
Soliloquy Jake sighs really loudly. "I am going to do some yoga," he says deliberately. He swallows hard and adds, "Judy does yoga. Of course. She says it calms you down." He tries to look optimistic, despite the fact that his face is soaked in sweat.
Cut to Phil's. Sam wanders in through the front door, surprising Judy. She's strolling out of the kitchen with a huge vase of flowers, which I totally expect her to drop. She doesn't. She barely breaks her stride and easily says, "You again." She sets the vase on the bar, and Sam says he's looking for Rick. She tells him Rick's at the bank. They have an awkward conversation about what it is that people do at banks. "Huh," Sam concludes, lamely.
Soliloquy Sam searches for something to say.
Judy tries breaking the ice by asking how Sam's been. He's about to answer, but she stops him to clarify, "No, I mean really, how've you been?"
Soliloquy Sam gives the camera an evaluating glance.
Sam says he spent the last ten weeks in Rome, and Judy sighs that she loves Italy. She fondly reminisces about an Italian boyfriend she once had, but then catches herself and trails off. There's an uncomfortable silence. Judy breaks it by saying that Rick should be back any minute. "Judy, it's over," Sam blurts. "Janine and me." Judy lays on the sympathy, and the camera jumps around her head as she rambles on like a Hallmark card just so we all know how awkward this is. Sam just stares at her. Finally, he smiles and lays a hand on hers, silencing her with, "Nice to talk to you, too, Judy." She takes a deep breath, and they stare at one another, their hearts racing.
"A situation. Hypothetical," Soliloquy Judy says. "Let's say I married him. I would keep my maiden name, of course. But I would also be...Judy Blue." The camera zooms down to her hands, which are clutching a daisy. "Like the song," she continues. "Well, it wouldn't be exactly the same. It would have to be Sam Blue Eyes for it to be exact. But it'd be close enough. You know, I'd almost be...the song." Strains of what I assume are "Judy Blue Eyes" start up in the background. Judy shakes her head at her foolishness and says, "I'm a fool." Cut to her walking away from the stool, where she's left the daisy to rest oh so artfully against the black backdrop.
After commercials, we find Judy and Jake hauling boxes of stuff into the restaurant. Judy's pitching some ideas at Jake, including naming all the menu items after writers, and pasting the menus inside old book covers. She catches sight of Jake's red, huffing face and asks whether he's okay. He claims it's hot and he's been "schlepping boxes," but that he's fine. Anyone seeing pattern here? Judy points out that he doesn't look very fine, and says she's going to get him some water. He starts to protest, but the protest turns into a plea for water.
Cut to the two of them sitting on a couch. Judy watches Jake gulp down a glass of water, and tells him to finish it. He follows orders and sets down the empty glass: "There, you happy? Can we get the rest of the boxes now?" "Anxiety," she declares, tucking her feet under herself. Jake doesn't know what she's talking about. She tells him he's having an anxiety attack, "a big nasty one." He pooh-poohs her, pushing himself up off the couch and saying he just didn't eat anything all day. Judy doesn't buy it, and tells him there's no shame in having anxiety -- it's a legitimate illness, "like rickets, or pinkeye." And lord knows, no one's ever embarrassed to admit to having either of those. Judy pleads with him to see her doctor. Jake hauls out a load of empty boxes, calling over his shoulder, "Does he like kids? 'Cause I'm about to have one."
Cut to a close-up of Jake's face, as a pair of hands poke and prod at his eyes, pulling the lids wide open. Jake rambles about how great Judy is, and the doctor asks whether Jake has "any cause for undue anxiety these days." Jake makes an attempt at a joke and then admits, "A friend of mine is having a baby soon. Mine. Quite soon." The doctor looks up from the stethoscope he's got planted against Jake's chest and says, "Great." Jake lies, "Oh, yeah. Absolutely, it is." The doctor asks how long ago Jake had a physical. "Recently," Jake fibs. "How recently?" the doctor wants to know.
Soliloquy Jake's wired up to a heart monitor, speed-walking his ass off. He pants, "You know, unless it's absolutely necessary, you don't really think about your heart."
"Ten years," Jake flinches. The doctor lowers his clipboard with a concerned, "Really?" He does the old, "I don't want to worry you, but is there any history of heart disease in your family?" Jake jumps as a nurse enters the room, and stammers that his family "is Swedish. They live forever." The doctor claps a reassuring hand on Jake's shoulder and says, "Now, Nikki's going to draw some blood, and I think we should do a stress test and a chest x-ray." I don't care what anyone says, I'm taking that as a shout-out. Draw some blood, indeed. Jake wants to know when this is going down, and the doctor solemnly lets him know, "Immediately." He promises to be right back and leaves Jake alone to be poked and prodded by Nikki. Jake looks like he might pass out.
Rick, meanwhile, is doing some heavy sweating of his own. He's pacing around the lobby of the old hotel as Fleisher orders, "Try his cell phone." Rick fudges that Sam's out of range. Fleisher could give a rat's ass. He orders Rick to try again, glances at his watch, and announces that he has to be at O'Hare in fifty-six minutes to fly to Aspen and buy some property. Fleisher descends the staircase, trailing a lackey just like Miles used to do, and chit-chats with Rick about skiing. When he reaches Rick's level, he cuts the bullshit, asking, "So, have you seen Sam's sketches?" Rick lies that he has, "and they're terrific." Fleisher sees right through him and mocks, "Ah, 'terrific'! A Jimmy Stewart word, 'terrific.' Rick, Rico, whatever the hell Sam calls you. Do not tell me about these terrific sketches, because you have not seen them." He barks at the lackey to get Rick a latte, ignoring Rick's feeble assertion that he doesn't want one. The lackey hustles out of the room and Fleisher busies himself putting on his scarf and gloves. He turns to Rick and says, "Rick, fact: I like you. And I don't usually like people like you. You're not big. And I like big people. This job could make you big, and then I could really like you. It could never end. It would never end. You wanna be big?" Rick's about to answer, but Fleisher cautions him there's no right answer. Rick's ballsy reply is, "I wouldn't mind." Fleisher seems to get a kick out of its quaintness. "Let me tell you something about your friend," he says. "Sam, Sam thinks that this is a game and we're playing it together. But this isn't a game. I don't like games. I win games. And Sam has already lost. Which, for me, is the thing I like most about Sam. But I don't like him enough to keep him in this game, unless he comes through. Rick, Rick? You've been given a very lucky break. Now, use it! My grandfather used to say that luck is like a clock. It ticks. You tell your putzy little friend that he's got two days to come up with something good, or it's stopped ticking and he's fired, along with you. Which is something I'm sharing with you now, Rick, because I like you." Rick, suitably chastised, says that he understands. Fleisher's not finished with the lesson, though, and continues, "Key part of the vision? Every chance is your last. I live by that. You should, too. You could have nine hotels, be living on a private island, instead of standing here like a schmuck with a cell phone." Fleisher snaps a pair of magnetic sunglasses against his frames, holds out his hand, and advises, "Be big, Rick. It's more fun." After a brief handshake, he turns on his heel and strides for the door. Rick stares after him like a schmuck with a cell phone and no private islands.
Cut to an exterior shot of a warehouse at night, in the rain. From inside a truck, we see Sam locking the door to his studio. The truck slides closer, and the passenger window rolls down as Sam turns away from the door. "Oh, god, man!" he exclaims, leaning against the truck. "You scared me." Rick tells him to get inside the truck, and impatiently pulls some papers off the seat to make room for Sam, who sheepishly says, "I was going to call you." Rick rolls his eyes with an exasperated "Ah, Sam!" Sam tries to defuse Rick's temper with a little hash-pipe humor, but Rick's way too lit already. He tells Sam not to be cute, and not to bother apologizing. Rick yells at him about the meeting he missed with Fleisher that afternoon, saying that Fleisher was pissed and had every right to be, and that they're in real danger of losing the job. Sam hangs his head and says he'll call Fleisher and straighten it out. Rick's voice is urgent as he admits how badly he needs this job, and he can't even look at Sam as he reflects on the waste the past eighteen months turned out to be. Sam ponders the seriousness of the situation, as Rick keeps unburdening himself. Rick finally pleads with Sam to "go and do what [he's] good at," and save both their asses. Without a word, Sam slowly climbs out of the truck, leaving Rick to drive off and have his breakdown somewhere else.
Like any bad little boy after a spanking, Sam heads off in search of a cuddle. He shows up abruptly at Judy's door. Surprised to see him, she stands silently in the doorway for a few seconds. He warns her that she has a bag lying on her staircase. Concerned, she asks whether it's paper or plastic. "Does it really matter?" he husks, and then they make out. She mutters something about a billy-goat kiss. Don't ask me. They make out some more. "Oh, my," she whispers, looking into his eyes. More making out. Clothes start coming off, finally, as we fade into the scene.
Rick's slumped at the kitchen table. He dials the cordless phone, and we cut over to an answering machine, through which we hear him inform Sam that they're meeting with Fleisher later that day, and he has "to ask: is this a good idea?" He sighs and explains, "I don't want our friendship to come untied because you can't come through right now." He clicks off the phone, looking hopeless and worn out.
Sam, meanwhile, is lying face-down and nekkid on Judy's bed while she strokes his back. He looks far from relaxed, however. His eyes are wide open, and he's staring off, no doubt thinking about all the mistakes he's making. "You wouldn't happen to have a sketch pad lying around, would you?" he mumbles into the sheet.
I guess Judy does, since we cut to Sam's naked torso hovering behind a sketch pad and a very busy hand. Sam sketches and sketches and sketches. Judy strolls over in her little Chinese silk robe, clutching a mug, and trails a hand along his back. "You must be exhausted," she says. Sam doesn't look up as he responds, "Eh, you're not that good." Another shot of the naked man nipple, and the hand flying over the sketch pad. "Sam," Judy tentatively says. He doesn't look up.
Soliloquy Judy's still gripping a mug, but she's fully dressed, and musing, "Sometimes, when you love someone, you can talk to that person and they don't even hear you. And still, somehow, you're both there. When you love someone." Judy looks kind of sad, like maybe she's realizing Sam doesn't love her.
Back at the table of semi-undress, Judy perches her chin on her fist and gazes lovingly at Sam and his sketchbook. He finally looks up and remembers that she's there. Silently, he turns the book around to show her, sipping from a huge mug of coffee as he waits for her reaction. She looks at him over the top of the book, her eyes saying that she loves him. I mean, "it."
Cut to the front hall of the old hotel. From behind, we watch Rick pacing toward the staircase while Sam sings, "Friday evenin', Sunday in the afternoon, hey, hey." Rick stops and turns to find Sam slouched in a chair. Sam says, "See, what nobody remembers is that for a couple of weeks, a long time ago, it was actually Crosby, Stills, & Blue." Rick says, "And then came Nash." "There's always a Nash," Sam says. He adds that Fleisher is on his way. He climbs out of the chair and walks slowly toward Rick, saying, "And, it is a good idea, Ricky." Rick asks what he's talking about. Sam reminds Rick about the message he left on his machine, and his fear that their friendship would come "untied," and assures Rick that it could never happen. Sam says he won't let that happen because he needs Rick on this job. "As what? Resident ass-kicker?" Rick asks. Dude, please. That is one job you are definitely not qualified for. Sam strolls over to the staircase with his sketches, sarcastically letting Rick know that he's honored to be able to help someone he respects so much "out of the gutter." Rick chuckles and asks, "Because you knew I was in trouble?" "Because I knew I needed you," says Sam. "Because I'm amazingly good, even from the gutter?" Rick asks, settling to Sam on the stairs. Sam agrees that it's part of it, but part of it also has to do with him hearing someone in his kitchen one night around 3 AM. Turns out it was Death, making a sandwich. Rick shares that, at his house, Death made soup. Maybe this would actually resonate with me if I were having a mid-life crisis. I assume that's what they're getting at, anyway. As it is, it just makes me hungry for a little grilled cheese. Now that the bonding session's over, Sam leans down and flips open his big leather portfolio, scattering his sketches across the floor. Rick looks intrigued and slips off the stairs to pick up the drawings for a closer look. "Well, what do you think?" Sam asks. "If you need a place to start, I can quote some of my reviews. 'Sam Blue's latest show is....'" Rick grabs one of the sketches and murmurs, "Tell me about this one." "That it's not good?" Sam asks. Rick emphatically says that he didn't say that. The camera pans back from the two friends huddled over the sketches.
Cut to Jake and Tiffany in the doctor's office. "I was just remembering something," Jake says fondly, and reminisces about a cat he had as a kid, and that when it was hit by a car he cried and cried. Abruptly, he asks Tiffany to promise him something, and pleads, "When the kid's old enough to understand, I want you to tell him both the good and the bad about me." Tiffany basically tells him to stop being morbid, but Jake is adamant that he doesn't want the kid thinking he was godlike, or something. No worries there, my friend. There's a knock on the door, and Tiffany and Jake jump when it opens. "Everything looks great," the doctor says, glancing at his clipboard to prove it. Tiffany laughs with relief while Jake can't quite believe it. "It does?" he says dubiously. Well, there goes that death wish. No getting out of fatherhood for you. The doctor holds up a bottle, assures Jake that he "just needs a little pee," and advises Jake not to wait ten years for his physical. Tiffany warmly shakes the doctor's hand and thanks him. The doctor leaves them alone, and Tiffany hops up on the examining table to Jake, telling him she knew he was fine. She "saw light around [him], and light means life." She adds that she felt the baby kick, too, and she knew that he was "trying to reach" Jake to let him know everything was okay. Jake fights back the tears and looks at Tiffany over his shoulder. "A him, huh?" he snuffles. Tiffany thrusts her belly forward and asks whether Jake wants to feel. Actually, he'd rather pee, thanks. He scrambles off the table but pauses in the doorway to smile at her. "He knew," she says. His smile fades a little, and he glances at her belly before heading off to fill his cup. She gets that he's still a little underwhelmed by the whole thing, and looks disappointed.
Meanwhile, over at the restaurant, Sam finds Judy in the middle of showing some workmen around the place. Spotting Sam, she tells them she'll be with them in a minute, and heads over to see what's up. She asks how the meeting went, and Sam replies, "We socked it to 'em, as Nixon said on Laugh-In." Judy's happy for him, but seems to sense there's more to his visit. He says, "You look busy. Are you busy?" She stares at him as if she's fighting back big emotions, but manages to get out, "Say it. Just say it." He studies her for a second.
Soliloquy Sam stands there, fidgeting, trying to figure out the words to use. He tries out her name a couple of times, but that's as far as he gets.
Sam opens his mouth hesitantly and says an unsure "Okay." She tells him just to say it, because he has to. He carefully says, "Judy, I just don't think this is the right time." Judy manages a small smile and a calm "Okay." Sam goes on, "Because of where I am." "Where you are in your life." "Right. Right." "And everything." "And, everything. Yeah," Sam says, wondering who the hell is breaking up with whom here. Judy continues, "And, until you know where you are --" "And where you are," he adds quickly. Judy gives him a condescending look and says, "Sam, we know now. You know that. And, as for the right time, you never just find it. Not for anything that's gonna count. You steal it. And somehow, you just never get caught. Lovers are thieves, and that...that's that." Go Judy. She just quietly let him know that she thinks his excuse is weak and he's full of shit. And at the same time, she totally let him off the hook. Now that is an artful breakup. I'm just amazed that Judy's the one to be pulling it off. Sam, looking at her with a new and deeper appreciation, asks whether he can tell her one more thing. He says that "Judy Blue Eyes" is his favorite song. "My eyes are brown," she says, still somehow holding it all together. "Details," he says with a smile. She gives him a long parting glance as she slowly moves back toward the workmen, and Crosby, Stills, & Nash kick up "Judy Blue Eyes" in the background. Sam pauses in the doorway for that famous last look, and Judy, sensing his eyes on her, turns to face him. As the vocals kick in, the camera pans quickly between them, closer and closer, drawing them together, and the looks they exchange suggest that things may be on hold, but they're definitely not over.