We open, yet again, in the kitchen of Manning Manor, with a close-up of a Bose radio. A woman's voice is grating over the airwaves: "As I told the last caller, you can't choose your family, but you can choose whether or not to shack up with a perverted loser!" The camera pans to an amused Eli, who's busy making a sandwich. Because Eli eats a lot, which, it seems, is all you need to know about him these days.
Cut to the radio station where Lily works. It's the source of the bitchy family-values advocate to whom Eli was listening. A delivery guy hands off a paper bag to Lily as the Curmudgeon and the woman snipe at one another in the broadcasting booth behind them. Apparently, the Curmudgeon is berating the woman for missing a number of shows in order to do seminars and self-help tapes "and god knows what else." She snottily informs him that he can't cancel her because she missed shows. She mentions their contract, but he's unruffled. Lily slips in and hangs nervously behind the Curmudgeon, unobtrusively trying to hand off his styrofoam soup container. The Curmudgeon points put that the contract guarantees her "best efforts," and argues that "seventeen shows in six weeks" hardly constitutes her best efforts. The woman stands, searching through her things on the table and huffing that he can't threaten her in the middle of a show. He insists that she's "spread too thin." "Oh, bite me!" she explodes. She rifles through the stuff on the table, griping that she can't find her "stupid, stupid notes!" Lily reaches over to help her search, and the woman shrieks, "Don't touch my stuff!" The producer gives the host the "we're a go" finger-point, and she slaps the earphones back on her head, demurely takes her seat, and calmly reminds her listeners that they're listening to the Sheri Snyderman show. Jesus, this caricature has got about as much depth as her cardboard cutout in the station's lobby. We fade to commercials with the Curmudgeon looking fed up and Lily looking stunned at the Jekyll-and-Hyde-ian display. I seize the opportunity to get in a few eye-muscle exercises. Something tells me my eyeballs will be doing more loop-de-loops than a Six Flags coaster this episode.
After commercials, we find Grace and her merry band of thespians rehearsing As You Like It. She and some guy are bantering back and forth, in character, and the camera pans to show the other cast members' rapt faces. Creepitri, rumpled as ever, watches with a pleased expression. The camera moves back to Grace and the guy, as her character taunts him about being cuckolded. He responds with flattery, and strokes her face, prompting Grace to erupt into self-conscious laughter. Creepitri wryly comments, "And then Rosalind begins to giggle uncontrollably." Grace sputters, "Tad!" "Tad"? I always thought "tad" was an adjective used by stuffy old people with funny accents. According to my dictionary, it also means "small boy." Interesting. Tad innocently asks, "What?" Grace acts as if he knows exactly what he did, and Tad protests, "Dude, I am innocent!" Tad spots a bottle of water in the front row and asks whose it is. Jessie, sitting to it, pipes up that it's hers. Tad takes a seat and helps himself, offhandedly asking whether he may finish it. Jessie scrunches her nose and uncertainly says he can. Creepitri asks whether anyone has comments, and A.J. offers, "Tad was just being the typical player. I mean, Orlando." A few more comments are made, and then Tad raises his hand to ask, "When Rosalind says that he 'comes slowly,' is that another reference to sex?" Everyone chuckles, and Creepitri smiles indulgently, turning the question around and asking what Tad thinks. "Heh, dude," Tad says, slapping hands with A.J. I'd like to give him a tad of a backhand. From the stage, Grace glances at Tad a couple of times, looking nervous and establishing that she's interested in the small boy. The students start to grab their things and file out, while Creepitri hollers out that the parent meeting for the play has been changed to Friday night. "Same night as Tassio's bowling party," Tad mutters. He passes Grace, and she follows him with her eyes, looking as though she'd like to say something to him. "Huge leap forward today," Creepitri calls out, as if anybody's listening to him.
When everyone else is gone, Grace approaches Creepitri, smiling and apologizing for laughing during the rehearsal, adding, "But he was practically..." Creepitri waits expectantly, but Graces waves it off, saying, "Never mind." "But he what?" he calls after her. Grace answers, "Nothing. I don't actually mind --" "Mind what?" Creepitri asks. Grace replies, "You know. Him flirting with me! Now you look shocked or something." Creepitri dismisses it: "I wake up looking shocked, or something." He packs his thermos into his backpack and stands up, far too close to Grace for my comfort, and says, "I have heard of flirting." Grace looks a touch uncomfortable and says, "I just didn't want you to think I wasn't taking it seriously." Creepitri starts to walk away, assuring her, "Giggling is allowed in Shakespeare. No flirting, though." He strides up the aisle as Grace goodie-goodies, "Well, tell Tad. He's the one who keeps..." Creepitri cuts her off by throwing a smile over his shoulder to let her know he was kidding. Grace stands there for a second, smiling and feeling a little silly.
Cut to Manning Manor, where everyone's converging on the dining room and a bag of take-out that Rick is trying to wrestle open. Lily's expressing her concern to Grace about how much time the play is taking, and Grace pooh-poohs her. Rick says he's concerned about the rehearsal schedule, too. "You are?" Jessie asks. The parentals wonder how the kids can fit everything in, and Grace insists, "We just will, okay?" "Exactly," Jessie agrees. Ah, solidarity. Grace adds that Creepitri is counting on them, and, even more importantly, "Do you even realize how many people wish they were us?" "They do?" Jessie asks, incredulous. Grace assures her that it's true as the phone rings. She rushes to the kitchen to answer it.
"Grace, uh, it's Tad," the hunka hunka burning teenage love says. He sounds caught off-guard. You can practically see Grace's heart burst through her chest, like on those old Looney Tunes cartoons. "Tad! You were making me laugh so hard today!" she says through a huge smile. "Yeah, I was, uh, just acting," he says, a little stiffly. Grace says it struck her as funny, nonetheless. "So, hi," she adds, leaning against the counter and slipping into flirtation mode. "Hi. [major pause] Uh, is Jessie there?" Tad asks, scrunching his nose in discomfort. Grace's face falls, almost as hard as that anvil of a plot point, and she fights to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she tells him to hold on. Her ego rapidly deflating, she holds the phone against her shoulder for a few seconds.
Out in the dining room, everyone's settling down to some Chinese take-out. Grace marches into the room like a zombie and, eyes straight ahead, hands the phone to Jessie with a curt "It's for you." Tad reminds Jessie that he's the guy who finished her water. Lily leans over the table to ask Grace who it is. "Just some boy," Grace answers glumly. Jessie puts her hand over the phone and glances at them before moving into the living room. She flops on the couch to continue the conversation as Judy flies through the front door, bellowing, "Honeys, I'm home!"
Lily's still on the girlfriend-y tangent, asking Grace whether the guy's cute, just as Judy enters the dining room. "Is who cute?" Judy asks. Lily whispers, "Jessie's on the phone with a boy." Grace looks unamused. "Mom, can we eat?" she asks flatly. Judy gets her vibe and wisely changes the subject, thrusting a folder toward Rick and telling him that she "got the permits." Rick responds by asking if she's going to come to dinner every night. Judy pauses, holding a lo mein noodle halfway to her mouth, and says, "Every single night. I'm going to start using your razor." Rick knows she's kidding, but looks a little worried anyway. Lily, of course, didn't get Grace's vibe and prods, "Well, do you or don't you know him?" Grace snaps, "Mom, he's in the play, okay?" Secretly, she wonders if it would be possible to strangle Lily with an egg noodle.
Tad, meanwhile, is smoothly telling Jessie that he needs someone to help him go over his lines, but he can't get anyone to do it. Jessie offers immediately, not recognizing it for the obvious come-on that it is. He suggests Friday night, and Jessie gapes uncertainly. Tad jumps into the pregnant pause, "remembering" that Friday is the bowling party. How very inconvenient. It looks like they'll just have to go to the bowling party instead. Tad takes Jessie's stunned silence as agreement and says he'll just meet her there. Around the heart lodged in her throat, Jessie manages to choke out, "Oh. Okay." She clicks off the phone, mouthing, "Oh. My. God!" The plucky guitars kick it as she springs up and spots Eli climbing the stairs behind her. She urgently whispers and waves for him to come over. Giddy, she says, "You have to tell me what just happened!" We cut to the dining room for a split-second while Jessie presumably fills in Eli.
"Oh. My. God!" Eli says when we return to the living room. He immediately throws Jessie into an affectionate headlock and drags her to the dining room to announce, "Uh, guys? Jessie was just asked out on a date." Lily exclaims, "Jessie, that's wonderful!" while Rick reminds himself to breathe. Jessie, embarrassed, says she may not even go. Lily can't imagine why she wouldn't, but Rick's all over Jessie's hesitation, insisting that she doesn't have to do anything she's not comfortable with. Lily says it's "normal to be nervous on your first date." Eli, seeing exactly where the dinner conversation is headed, announces, "I'm going to eat later." Seeing her window of opportunity, Grace grabs her carton of MSG and announces that she is, too. Lily immediately halts Grace's retreat, though, ordering her to sit down. She wants Grace to reminisce about how nervous she was on her first date. Grace mutters that she can't remember. Lily, unperturbed, swats Rick on the shoulder and says, "You were nervous on our first date." He looks at her and says, "I'm still nervous." He should be, considering he's living with a pod person. We know he's joking, though, because those damn guitars are still plucking away. Lily turns her attention to Jessie, asking how she left things with the boy. Jessie glances at Grace a couple of times while saying that she thinks she said yes. She so desperately wants Grace to get in on this with her. Rick, silently praying, reminds Jessie that she can still change her mind at any point. Lily looks at him like he's mental and wonders why Jessie would want to do that. Then she goes Hallmark on their asses, oozing that it's a turning point for Jessie and it's so wonderful. "Isn't it?" she prods Rick. He looks at the bite of mushu pork on his fork, secretly thinking that the food is more wonderful, but he dutifully agrees. Jessie's looking less and less convinced. Grace hates all of them.
After the break, we return to an alternate reality -- one in which Karen does things like peeking out from behind a concrete column, spying. She really needs one of those newspapers with the eyeholes cut out. Much less obvious. She's got her eye on a couple of cyclists, one of whom, from behind, could be Leo. Judy strides up to the café, glances around, and manages to spot the extremely covert Undercover Karen. She rushes over, apologizing for being late. Karen waves it away, not peeling her eyes off the cyclist for a second. She urgently grabs at Judy, shoving her behind the column and asking her whether one of the guys looks like Leo. Judy leans around the column to get a look, but Karen pulls her back, paranoid. After a second, they both peer around their screen. The cyclist turns around, and he isn't Leo. Karen does a piss-poor job of hiding her disappointment. The two wander over to a table, and Judy gushes that she saw Jessie yesterday, "And she is so gorgeous!" Karen mmms in agreement and says, "Wait until you hear her big news!" Judy blurts something about Jessie's date, stirring the ire of the ass-pole. The camera zooms in on Karen's face as her smile fades. "Oh, no, not again!" Judy sighs. Karen takes a couple of deep, cleansing breaths and tries to coax the ass-pole back to a state of calm. She finally manages to tell Judy not to worry about it, and says that she was just going to say that Jessie got two solos in the school play. Judy tries to act as though this is news to her. Karen tries to act like she doesn't care that Judy knows more about Jessie's life than she does.
"Well, of course she's going to be disappointed," Lily says, her voice dripping with concern. She's at work, on the phone with Jake, who's apparently trying to beg off spending an evening with Zoe. The Curmudgeon looms over Lily's shoulder, asking, "Got the numbers?" Lily scrambles among the papers on her desk while cradling the phone against her shoulder and continuing with the guilt trip. The Curmudgeon lumbers around behind her, waiting impatiently and watching her disapprovingly. She finally locates the page of numbers and simultaneously tells Jake that she has to go. She meekly apologizes to the Curmudgeon as she hands him the sheet and starts explaining why she's having trouble with Jake. She catches the look on his face and stops herself, realizing that he's not interested in hearing about her personal life. He assures her, "You can tell me anything. As long as it's not about people." I think I'm in love.
Behind them, Dr. Snyderman starts ranting at one of her callers. "Now what is your stupid question?" she huffs, leaning heavily against her desk. The caller starts stammering that she's been dating a man, but Snyderman cuts her off, snapping, "Dating? Or shacking up?" Her contempt is palpable. Lily and the Curmudgeon glance toward the booth. Lily mutters, "She's so mean." The Curmudgeon retorts, "She's worse than mean. She's wacko." He marches toward the booth.
Meanwhile, over at Sammler and Associates, Rick's being besieged by another wacko. Namely, Karen, who's berating him for letting Jessie go on the date. She demands, "And when exactly was this decision made?" Rick struggles for patience and tries to give her some perspective: "Karen, it's a date. Not Vatican II." Karen's not amused. She mutters a veiled threat, saying, "Don't put me in a position where I have to take action." Rick jumps at this: "Action? What action, Karen?" Karen complains that she doesn't want to keep having "this conversation" with him "over and over." He tells her not to, then. She whisper-yells that she has to: "I am being completely left out of the decision-making process!" The ass-pole lets out a whoop. Rick tries to explain that there wasn't exactly a formal decision-making process; Jessie simply told them about the date at dinner. Karen's fighting hard not to lose it as the ass-pole whips itself into a frenzy. She whisper-shrieks, "I don't care!" For six square blocks, dogs writhe and whimper at the sound. Rick keeps yammering that Jessie may not even go, while Karen fumes on about being left out. They finish griping at the same time and stare at one another. After a second, Karen asks, "So, have you at least laid eyes on this boy?" Rick easily lies that he has. He sits at his desk and fidgets with some papers to avoid her laser-beam eyeballs. "So, what's he like?" she finally asks. "Oh, you know. Swarthy. A convicted felon." Hey! Isn't that a bit insulting to swarthy people? There are pasty convicts, too, you know. The ass-pole isn't immune to Rick's "charms," however, and decides to save its fight for another day. "So, does she really like him, or something?" Karen asks weakly, as though terrified of the answer. Rick says he guesses so. Karen wearily rests against the edge of Rick's desk, sighing and asking, "How did we get here?" Rick sighs, too, and says he doesn't know.
"So just because Karen heard about this from my big-mouthed sister?" Lily asks, as we cut to her and Rick's bedroom. Rick assures her it has "nothing to do with [her] big-mouthed sister." Lily yanks back the duvet and half-asks, "Rick, you're going to let her go, right?" Rick mutters something about not even knowing the boy. "His name is Tad. What more do you need to know?" Lily asks. You know, stressing the fact that the kid has a name like a porn star probably isn't helping any. I'm just saying. Lily plunks herself on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eye and complaining that it makes "a squeaking sound" when she rubs it. Rick immediately scurries over to her, asking to hear it. She obligingly keeps rubbing and asks if he hears it. "No, but I do hear the ocean," he quips. Heh. Finally. Only 748 more digs, and he'll have evened the score. Rick leans back against the headboard and tries to explain his reservations, conceding that he knows Lily will say that Jessie's social life is expanding, and that it's a good thing. Lily snuggles against his shoulder and interjects that it is a good thing. He continues, saying that he's happy for Jessie, but Lily interrupts to say that she doesn't think he is. She thinks he and Karen feel threatened because Jessie is growing up. Rick insists that he doesn't mind Jessie growing up; he just doesn't want her to change. "You know what often stops an eye from squeaking?" he asks a second later. Lily bites. "Intercourse," Rick says. Ick. That's a turn-off with a capital "off." ["If intercourse has any effect on Lily's eye, I don't think they're doing it right." -- Wing Chun] Luckily for him, Lily doesn't seem to think so.
"I can't even remember my first date," Soliloquy Lily says. She's perched on the Stool, beaming. You know, I don't remember mine, either. Which is probably a good thing.
"Matt Chenowski," Soliloquy Karen says.
"I just remember, all of a sudden, boys calling," Soliloquy Lily glows.
Cut to Karen, stretching in her running gear, and saying into a phone, "No she isn't. Can I take a message?"
Soliloquy Lily: "It's like they'd been given some kind of signal or something." Yeah, they're called boobies.
Soliloquy Karen smiles proudly: "He had the highest SAT marks in our class. He took me to Earthquake."
Soliloquy Lily: "Which is nice, but it's kind of frightening."
Karen answers the phone again, this time in a robe with her hair wrapped in a towel and her face buried under an inch of mud mask. She eats her Lonely Woman take-out while assuring the caller that Jessie definitely doesn't have a private number. "Who is this?" she asks.
Lily covers the phone and bellows, "Jessie! It's Ashley!" The camera cuts away before we have to hear her squealing.
Soliloquy Karen keeps on reminiscing: "We stood on line in the rain, and when his hair got wet, it formed these...these tendrils."
Lily bellows yet again that the phone is for Jessie. This time it's Natasha.
Soliloquy Karen continues, "A few years ago, someone told me he killed himself." She shakes her head sadly and adds, "Highest SATs. Besides me."
Zoe makes her appearance, squeezing honey on toast in the darkened kitchen, and shouting that the phone is for Jessie.
Grace, in the daylit kitchen, yells for Jessie. Jessie appears and Grace thrusts the phone at her, gritting, "It's for you. Again." Subtle. Jessie watches her storm away, bewildered. The camera swings around so that we can see Grace over Jessie's shoulder. She's sitting at the table with her chin propped glumly on her hand, eavesdropping as Jessie asks the caller about the bowling party. Zoe and Lily wander into the kitchen. Lily listens distractedly while Zoe finishes up whatever story she'd been telling. Seeing a fresh set of ears at the table, Zoe heads for Grace and says, "Last night I dreamt I swallowed a bee, and when I woke up this morning my tooth was missing. See?" She opens her mouth for inspection. "Fascinating," Grace drones, not taking her eyes off Jessie. Jessie clicks off the phone, and Lily asks who she was talking to. "Friend of Tad's," Jessie answers. Smiling shyly, she adds, "I said yes." Lily warmly says that's wonderful. "Isn't it, Grace?" she asks, turning to shoot Grace a prompting look. Grace unenthusiastically mumbles her agreement through a mouthful of cereal. Lily asks what Jessie is wearing, while Grace glowers in the background. Jessie says that everyone is asking her that, and that she's not sure. Lily suggests, "You should wear whatever you're most comfortable in, and then dress it up." She asks whether Jessie has a "pretty necklace." Jessie says she doesn't, but she "hate[s] those glittery ones everyone is wearing now." She shudders at the thought. Lily turns to look at Grace, asking what Jessie thinks of the necklace Grace is wearing. "Yeah, something like that," Jessie says. Grace raises a hand to her necklace, a look of dread on her face. She knows what's coming. Jessie glances at her watch and breaks for the door.
Grace jumps up from the table and tries to make it out the door before Lily can stop her. She doesn't. "I know what you're going to say," Grace grumbles. "Okay, what am I going to say?" Lily demands. Grace mockingly says that she should lend Jessie the necklace and anything else she needs "because she's insecure, and this one stupid date will be, like, a life-changing experience for her." Lily smiles and admits, "Well, that was similar to what I was going to say." Grace grabs her backpack and makes a break for the door. Lily stops her. She says it would mean so much to Jessie if Grace lent her the necklace. "You don't lend me stuff when I go out," Grace counters. Lily lightly says that's not true. Grace has the day and date ready: last year, when she went out on her first date, Lily refused to let her wear the gray pearls. Lily protests that those were a gift from Phil, and they were real pearls. Grace doesn't see her point. Lily says that she was worried about the pearls: Grace lost everything she bought her last year. "Not this," Grace snaps, grabbing at her shell necklace. She hears the door open behind her, and senses Jessie standing there. Her face softens. Looking at Lily, Grace says, "You know, you can borrow this necklace on Friday, if you want." She offers to help Jessie with her makeup, too, but Jessie says she wasn't planning on wearing any. Grace shoots Lily the stink-eye before heading for the door. "Bye," Lily calls sweetly.
Cut to the auditorium, where Grace, Tad, and another girl are on-stage. Creepitri takes to the stage, too, to offer a bit of direction on the scene. He explains that Grace is supposed to remove an amulet from around her neck and present it to Tad. Creepitri's interrupted by a fit of giggles behind him, where Jessie and her friends are laughing as Tad gets on his knees in front of Grace. Grace also hears the laughing. She's not amused. She recites her lines woodenly and thrusts the necklace at Tad. It just hangs there until he looks up, surprised that she isn't going to put it around his neck, like she has every time before. He appeals to Creepitri, and Grace bitches, "Look, what difference does it make?" Tad hands the amulet back to Grace and asks, "So are you?" "Am I what?" she grits. "Are you going to do it that way?" Grace snaps, "I don't know. I'll do it how I do it." Tad looks like he might cry. Except that he's too confused. Creepitri senses the tension and tells them to take a break. Grace storms offstage.
Grace blows out a back entrance, taking deep breaths and looking agitated. She unscrews the cap of her bottled water, looking lost in thought, and jumps when the door starts to open. She rolls her eyes and moves to a better position -- resting her elbows against the railing so that her back is to the door and whoever's coming through it to bug her. It's Creepitri. For once, he's not smug or annoying. He shoves his hands in his pockets and simply says, "Just use it. Whatever you're feeling, just use it in the scene. And do whatever you want with that necklace. Just try not to hurt him. Much." Grace listens with her defense shields on maximum. She seems to be waiting for more, but Creepitri just turns and walks back into the auditorium. When he's gone, Grace exhales heavily, gives her head a little shake, and looks thoughtful.
Meanwhile, Snyderman's on a tear, pacing around the booth and berating one of her listeners for being "the type of parent who should be sterilized." She's greeted with silence, and incredulously realizes that the caller hung up on her. Her producer rolls his eyes as she informs him that "some people just can't take criticism." The Curmudgeon sense that things are more afoul than usual, and strides into the production booth as "Dr. Sheri" takes another call. Lily trails behind him, once again trying to hand him a styrofoam container of soup. The caller is a woman who starts to explain that she's engaged, but Dr. Scari cuts her off to ask if they've set a date yet. When the befuddled young woman answers that they haven't, Dr. Scari righteously thunders that they're not engaged, then. She condescendingly informs the caller to "read [her] book, take [her] seminar: no date, no engagement." Amazingly, the caller remains on the line, still trying to get her question heard. Dr. Scari cuts her off yet again to shriek, "You're shacking up with him, aren't you?" The caller admits that they do live together. "You little whore!" Dr. Scari spits. The Curmudgeon orders the producer to go to commercial, and races into the room to stop Dr. Scari's madness. Dr. Scari just about explodes when she hears the commercial over the airwaves. She leans into the glass between her and the producer and shouts, "I say when we go to commercial!" "Not anymore, you nut," the Curmudgeon informs her. "What did you call me?" she demands, stuffing her crap into a tote bag. "A nut!" the Curmudgeon says, spreading his hands wide. "How dare you speak to me like that, you gasbag," Dr. Scari spits as she steams past him and out the door. He spreads his arms as if to show her the way. Scari grabs her cardboard self from the outer office and informs the Curmudgeon that he'll be hearing from her "representatives." "And they'll be hearing from me. Because you're a nut! You should call yourself!" he bellows after her. There's a "slapstick" moment as Dr. Scari's cutout blocks her escape at the doorway. Where're the plucky guitars when you need them?
Lily and the producer appear behind the Curmudgeon to inform him that the commercial is about over. The producer asks whether he should go to a public service announcement. Why don't they just pop in a tape of a show? The Curmudgeon sighs, which apparently rouses the plucky guitars. They kick it as he flies into his office, leaving a bewildered Lily and producer standing there. The producer scrambles to cover the dead air screaming, "Ten seconds!" while Lily goes in search of the Curmudgeon. A split second later, the Curmudgeon plows into the booth, toting an old-school microphone. He arranges himself as Lily stands awkwardly off to the side, still carrying his soup. He orders the producer to put a caller through, and mutters, "Hell, it's not rocket science." Famous last words, clearly.
The plucky guitars kick it up as the Curmudgeon stumbles through an explanation of why he's now on the air instead of Dr. Scari. He takes a call from Darlene. She explains that she has an ex-husband whom she "still care[s] about on a human level," and "he no longer speaks to his mother. She was very rejecting; he was a bed-wetter." The Curmudgeon looks like he could use a Depends himself. Darlene's problem is that her mother-in-law is dying, and she knows that her ex-husband wants to make peace with her, but he can't talk to her, so should Darlene step in and say something? The Curmudgeon is speechless. After a few seconds, he manages to stammer, "Well...uh...I think...uh..." He looks around desperately and adds, "I think my colleague has an opinion about that." He waves a stunned Lily toward the mic. She just stands there, clutching soup. "Don't you, Lily?" he pleads. She cautiously approaches the Curmudgeon, and he slaps a set of headphones on her. She leans in toward the mic like she's about to eat it, and shouts, "Yes, yes I do." See, Lily's never done this before. I wonder if she'll be any good at it? "So your ex-husband was a bed-wetter," she says, as the camera pans back to show the producer shaking his head in dismay and wondering how long the line-up is at the pogey office.
Well, the commercials offered only a brief reprieve from the plucky guitars. They're still at it when we return. The camera pans over a lit "on-air" sign as Lily sniffles, "Well, good for you for surviving cancer. What grade are you in?" She blows her nose as the caller answers. The Curmudgeon looks decidedly uncomfortable. Time Passes. We fade into a shot of the Curmudgeon eating his soup and staring at Lily working the callers. Lily's talking about getting used to having a big bed to yourself after your husband leaves. Someone slips into the booth to hand her a bottle of water, which she accepts without breaking stride. Because she's A Natural. More Time Passes, and we fade in on the scene outside the booth, where station employees are gathered, listening and nodding their heads in admiration. Lily says, "Look, I'm no expert. I'm not a psychologist or anything, but I did have a husband who cheated on me. And I'm telling you, she knows. She just doesn't want to know she knows." She shoots a self-satisfied grin toward the production booth, where the producer and the Curmudgeon look blown away.
See, I knew those eye exercises would come in handy.
Cut to Rick's truck pulling into Manning Manor. He pulls alongside Lily's truck, where Eli's sitting, listening raptly to the radio. Rick taps on the window to ask what he's doing, and Jessie hops in on the passenger side of the truck. "You gotta hear this," Eli says, turning up the radio. Lily's voice floods the truck.
"Give it time, Susan. When my husband met my girls, it wasn't love at first sight, believe me! Time helps," Lily says, as we cut to the station. She adds, "For instance, my stepdaughter, who's fifteen and just so adorable, is about to go out on her first date, and I truly couldn't be more thrilled for her if she were my own daughter."
The whole gang's piled into the truck, now, listening. Jessie looks less than thrilled to have the news of her date broadcast around the city.
Lily gets the "wind-it-up" gesture from the producer, and says, "Listen, thank you so much, everyone, for your phone calls." She glances at the booth and gets the "cut it off" sign, so she says an abrupt, jumpy "thank you" by way of signing off. She fidgets in her seat and looks nervous all of a sudden to remind us that, despite looking and sounding like a pro, Lily's never done this before. She exhales loudly and slumps in the seat. "That was great, Lily," the producer tells her through her headphones. Outside the doors to her booth, everyone from the station has gathered to applaud. The producer starts clapping in the booth, too, and the Curmudgeon looks like he's not quite sure what to do. The employees start piling into the booth, still applauding. Lily smiles in a show of modesty and then high-fives one of the guys. She shakes a couple of hands, saying, "Wow. Wow. Thank you guys. Thank you. Whew!" The Curmudgeon takes it all in, unsmiling, and then walks away.
Cut to Lily in the driveway, sitting in the truck in the dark. I'm not sure how she got to be in the truck, when Eli was driving it earlier. Whatever. Rick comes up and taps on the window, giving her a mild coronary. He asks whether she's afraid to come inside. She climbs out of the truck, laughingly asking why she'd be afraid. "We heard you," he says. She thinks that's a good thing, and excitedly grabs his arms. He tries to ask how she got on the air, but apparently he's still so stunned by it that he's having trouble speaking. She tells him he wouldn't even believe it, and he waves an agitated hand and says shortly, "You were great." He leans against the truck with his arms folded. "You were something," he adds, thinking, "something of a big-mouth." Lily looks bewildered and asks, "What?" Rick says he thinks it was "difficult for the kids to hear themselves being discussed like that." "'Discussed'?" Lily parrots, as if she's never head the term before. She thinks for a second and then says, "Oh." Rick says he doesn't know what she was thinking, and she tries to tell him there wasn't time to think. He starts to say something about "time," but she interrupts him to let him know there won't be a time. Her brain skips back a track, and she asks, "Why, what did I say?" Rick reminds her that she talked about him, Grace, and Zoe not getting along at first, and that she talked about Jessie going on a date when he hasn't even decided if she can go yet. Lily snaps that Jessie thinks she's going on the date -- it's all she's talked about and she's even borrowing Grace's necklace. Rick pointedly asks whose idea that was. "What difference does that make?" Lily shrills. He asks why they're even arguing about it. I wonder that, too. What makes her such a parenting guru that she's entitled to tell him and Karen how they should be raising their kids? I'm sure she'd just love it if Rick started pointing out everything she does wrong with her own kids, darling little angels that they are. Lily storms away, and Rick trails after her, saying, "Ever since that kid called, we've been at odds." Lily yells, "Because you keep acting like you're not going to let [Jessie] go!" Rick asks her why it's so important to her. "Oh, Rick. She's blossoming! Before your eyes she's changing, and growing, and blooming!" Which reminds me: I need to water my plants. Lily adds that Jessie needs Rick to tell her it's okay. She turns to go inside while Rick guppy-faces all over the front stoop as he realizes for the eight hundredth time this season that Lily is a wise, wise woman who's a better parent to his kids than he and Karen are. Lily stops and pouts that he "never even asked what it was like being on the radio." The sad guitars let us know that we should feel really sorry for Lily. Feeling like the wretched human being that he is, Rick asks how it was. She says it was indescribable, and then marches inside like a martyr. Rick's mascara is in serious jeopardy, as he stares after her like a whipped puppy.
Cut to the morning, as Rick pulls up to the high school to drop off Jessie and Grace. Grace takes longer getting out of the truck, so she's still sitting there when a young, brainy-looking guy races up to Jessie. Rick asks if he's Tad. Grace glances and says, "No. That's Tad," as the much taller and older Tad strolls up in his varsity jacket. Rick looks a little troubled by the sight of him. This looks like the kind of kid who knows his way around a back seat, after all. Grace climbs out of the truck, and Rick tries to register the reality that is Tad. He's startled by a tap at the window, and looks up to see Jessie and Tad peering in at him. "Uh, Tad wanted to meet you," Jessie says, looking slightly mortified. Tad thrusts his arm inside the truck to shake hands with Rick. Rick tries to swallow his alarm and act normal, but he says, "Hi, Tad," just a little too loudly.
Meanwhile, over at the radio station, the Curmudgeon has called Lily into his office. She approaches, trying to head off the negativity by reminding him that he was the one who put her in the chair. The Curmudgeon holds up his hand to silence her, and cuts to it: "I figured I'd start you off small, on the weekend. When nobody's listening." "What?" Lily breathes. He adds that he wants her to do a segment with some guy that night, to give people an idea of who she is. He says people want to know about her. She's shocked. "Well, you heard about all the phone calls," he says, waving a hand in the direction of phones. "Apparently, you struck a chord. Let's hope you can strike it once a week," he says. Lily is dazzled. She starts to stand up, but then sits down to say, "Oh, but I told my husband." She catches herself, saying, "You don't want to hear about my husband." "Just on the air," he says, with a touch of pleading in his voice. He is seriously my hero. Lily spins around on her way to the door and asks, brightly, "How many phone calls?" The Curmudgeon just stares at her, tight-lipped. "I'm going!" she says and practically skips out of there. The Curmudgeon stares at the streak left by his little spitfire and allows himself a chuckle.
Cut to Jessie sitting in Dr. Wise-Ass's office. She's saying, "When I imagined my first date, I thought I'd be really excited because I would be in love. Like that song that demented Dimitri is making me sing, 'Heart Like a Wheel.' Do you know it?" Dr. Wise-Ass, who's been dipping into the Grecian Formula, asks to hear a bit of it. Jessie obliges, and the good doctor smiles warmly at the sound of her voice. Jessie says she wants to feel "like [her] heart is totally shipwrecked for someone, and [she] doesn't have any of those feelings for Tad." Dr. Wise-Ass dispenses his wisdom: "If you don't feel like going on this date, maybe you shouldn't go." Then he cracks wise, "That'll be a million dollars." Jessie tosses a pillow at him.
Karen's waiting for Jessie in the mini-van, working on some papers. When Jessie emerges, Karen says, "So, I hear you're going on a date." Jessie's a little surprised and asks, "Where did you hear it? On the radio?" Karen's not sure what she means. Jessie realizes she's said too much, and tries to play it down: "Oh, Lily was substituting for that Dr. Sheri person, and she sort of mentioned it." The ass-pole needs a minute to digest this news. Karen repeats it, disbelievingly. Jessie quickly assures her that she's over it. The ass-pole knows that Jessie isn't the enemy, so it coaches Karen to play it off lightly. Karen says, "So, does this boy have a name?" Jessie shyly says his name is Tad, and that he's in the play. Karen asks what Jessie's going to wear. Jessie says that's all anyone asks her anymore: "If I said I was going to kill myself, they'd be like, 'Oh, what are you going to wear?'" Karen strokes Jessie's hair and begs her not to say things like that. Jessie has to explain that she's only joking.
Soliloquy Karen laments, "I never had the right clothes. I never knew the right things to say. My mother was the opposite of help. I guess you could say I had friends, but I was never..."
"I was popular," Soliloquy Lily says. She nods and adds, "Which I know sounds easy, but..."
"It was so hard," Soliloquy Karen says.
Karen closes Jessie's door and suggests that they go shopping. Jessie asks, "What about the parent meeting?" Karen tries to figure out how to get around it, but Jessie tells her not to worry about it: she already knows what she's going to wear. She rhymes off the outfit and mentions that Grace is going to lend her a necklace and do her makeup. "Grace is," Karen says, trying not to show her disappointment. Jessie says, "So, if you could just drop me off there." Deflated, Karen assents.
Cut to the auditorium, where Creepitri is pacing around in yet another slept-in shirt, looking for a record among his stacks of vinyl. "What happened to 'Heart Like a Wheel'?" he mutters to himself. Grace strides in, pigtails flapping, and announces, "I'm thinking of quitting. I mean, I think I may have to. Quit." She makes the excuse that it takes up a lot of time. He tries to act distracted, still searching for his record. Grace says, "And I wasn't -- is that it?" She points to an album on the corner of a table. Relieved, he pulls it out of its sleeve, asking, "You weren't what?" Too quickly, Grace says she wasn't feeling anything during rehearsal the other day. Creepitri blows the lint off the record and starts with a challenging, "Well --" He thinks better of it and just turns to put the record on the turntable. Grace tries out the excuse that she and Tad just don't have any chemistry. "'Chemistry'?" Creepitri chuckles. The opening strains of the song start, and he tells her, "Just, just listen to this." He tells her it's for the end of Act I and asks what she thinks. Grace listens to the line, "Some say the heart is just like a wheel" and looks like she's about to cry. "I think...I think you should give the part to..." she says softly. "To...?" Creepitri demands. "I don't know. Whoever you decide to give it to," Grace says, and turns to leave. "Hey! I've already done that. I think you are perfect for this," Creepitri says, with feeling. They stare at each other for a few seconds, until Creepitri laughs a little self-consciously. Grace smiles through her tears. She moves closer and hops up on the stage, asking, "Why do you like such weird music?" He smiles and teases, "What are you implying? Are you implying that I'm weird?" Grace laughs. "Careful! Don't let that guard down. Then where would we be?" Creepitri says. Grace asks whether he'd mind if she hung out and listened to the album for a while. "Please," he says. As Grace wrestles off her backpack, Creepitri peers at her, asking, "What's that around your neck? Is that seashells?" Grace lifts a hand to the necklace, saying it is. "It's lovely," Creepitri says with a small smile. Grace looks at him for a second too long, still touching her necklace. There's something in her eyes that I don't like: gratitude verging on crush. Creepitri explains why he loves the music they're listening to, likening it to "an old chair. You can just curl up and rock." He illustrates his point by rocking in his chair.
Cut to Karen on the phone with her lawyer, Gayle. "Jessie's going on a date? What is she, like nine?" Gayle asks. The ass-pole is in no mood for jokes. It's working overtime, dammit. Karen's flipping through a folder of legal documents, complaining that she wasn't even consulted, which is "completely counter" to her agreement with Rick. She offers to read Gayle the pertinent bits. "So what are you saying? You want to haul them into court?" Gayle asks. Karen says she doesn't know -- that's Gayle's department -- but she adds that "[Lily] talked about them, Gayle. On the radio. There's a whole pattern of behavior, here." Gayle tries to get off the phone, saying that she's got a conference call. The ass-pole will not be put off so easily. "It's like they're deliberately trying to leave me out of things!" Karen cries. She manages to get a grip and tells Gayle to call her back.
Cut to Grace wandering down the hall to Lily's bedroom, calling, "Hello?" Lily's putting on an earring and cries, "Grace! Where have you been?" Grace says she helped Creepitri get ready for the meeting. Lily guilts that Jessie waited for her for almost an hour. Grace whines that she didn't know he'd make her stay so late, and adds, "Besides, she doesn't need my necklace to go on a date." She plops down on the bed as Lily informs her that she's going to the station after the parents' meeting. "You're going to be on the radio again?" Grace asks, dismayed. Lily pulls on her boots with an unconcerned "Yeah." Grace's eyes lock on Lily's dresser, and her chest constricts. "Why is your pearl necklace out?" she asks, already knowing the answer. Lily looks from the necklace to Grace to the necklace, and realizes this is going to be bad. After a few seconds, she finally confesses, "I offered to let Jessie borrow it." Grace pops off the bed, furious, and stares at Lily incredulously. Lily says that Grace and her necklace were nowhere to be found. "So you offered her your pearl necklace?" Grace cries. "What difference does it make?" Lily asks lightly. "What difference does it make?" Grace shouts. Her eyes are about to leap from their sockets. She realizes Lily is totally clueless, so she just turns and storms out. Lily chases after her.
Grace slams into her room, trying to collect herself. Lily knocks and pleads with her to open the door. Grace relents, but only so she can spew, "I heard what you said, you know." "What?" "On the radio? That you couldn't be more thrilled if she was really your daughter? So why don't you just pretend that she is, Mom." Lily tries to explain, but Grace cuts her off: "You barely noticed my first date, Mom." Lily says that she did notice, but Grace didn't seem to need her help. "No, Mom! You didn't want to help! Because he was African-American and I'm not helpless and delicate and perfect, like Jessie!" Grace slams the door. Lily stands there staring at it and wondering how she, who knows everything about parenting, could have screwed this up so badly. She has a few minutes to ponder it as we head to commercials.
After the break, Lily's downstairs gathering her jacket and purse when the phone rings. It's Judy, looking for Rick. Lily shortly tells Judy that she'll tell Rick she called. Judy catches the vibe and says, "I know why you're upset. I mean, I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna say I shouldn't have told Karen about Jessie's date. You're right." Lily says, "Well, I shouldn't have told half of Chicago." Judy has no idea what she's talking about. Lily glances toward the stairs and says, "Judy, I screwed up with Grace. I just had to do something, she seemed so insecure!" "Gracie?" Judy asks. "Jessie! I mean I wanted to give her something -- confidence. I mean, she's about to go out on her first date." Judy says that Jessie's so beautiful, as if she can't understand why she'd be insecure. Lily sadly says, "Don't you see? At that age, even if you are, you don't know you are." Judy's thoughtful for a second and says, "But if your sister's beautiful, even if she doesn't know she is, it can sometimes make you feel like...you're not. Or, so I've heard." Lily looks touched and thanks Judy for calling. Judy gives her a heartfelt "Any time." Lily clicks off the phone, and you can already see her wheels turning.
Cut to the auditorium, where parents are filing in and milling around. Karen's cell phone rings. It's her lawyer, telling Karen that her schedule opened up, so Karen can come by later if she'd like. Karen glances at her watch and is about to respond when Lily appears over her shoulder. Looking up at her nemesis, Karen mutters, "I need to call you back." She stands to face Lily, who apologizes for interrupting her call. Karen flatly tells her it's no problem. Lily's not picking up on the death rays shooting out of Karen's eyes. Lily asks whether they can talk for a minute, and starts clutching at her chest (one of her best sincerity moves), saying that she's worried about some of the things that have been happening, and how Karen may have interpreted them. The ass-pole's hopping mad, but Karen manages to grit her teeth against it. She coldly informs Lily that she can't get into things now. Lily's about to let it go, but then says, "Well there's something I need to say, so..." Karen mutters, "Well, you don't seem to need my permission to talk, so go ahead." "What?" Lily asks, shocked. She asks what Karen means. Karen growls that she doesn't think it's appropriate for Lily to be using the kids "as material." Lily protests, "Nobody's using anyone." "I wish that were true," Karen grits. Creepitri calls the meeting to order, squashing everyone's hopes for a catfight. Karen turns her back on Lily and takes a seat. Lily takes a second to collect herself and then strides down the row behind Karen, taking a seat a fair distance away where she can pout and watch Karen on the sly. Karen pulls out her cell phone, calls her lawyer, and whispers that she'd like to come and see her later.
Meanwhile, Rick's just pulled up outside the neon façade of the bowling alley. Jessie worries that she'll be the first one to show up. He asks whether she wants him to drive around the block one more time. Jessie musters her courage and says she'll just go inside, but not before making one last-ditch attempt to bail: "Dad, if this is a problem between you and Mom --" Rick assures her that it isn't. "I'm just saying, if you guys don't want me to do this," Jessie offers, hoping that he'll jump on it. He doesn't. Instead, he makes himself tell her to have a good time. Jessie goes to open the door, and Rick remembers that he's got something in the glove compartment for her. He pulls out a little box and hands it to her. Jessie opens it and pulls out one of those glittery necklaces. "Lily, she mentioned that you were gonna borrow Grace's, so I thought, maybe you should have one of your own. It's the real glittery kind. Apparently everyone is wearing them." Somehow, Jessie manages not to bawl right then and there. I'm not quite that tough. Rick puts it on for her, and Jessie looks at him adoringly, hating the necklace but loving the gesture. She thanks him with a hug and climbs out of the truck. Rick watches her go as the melancholy guitars limp along the soundtrack.
Karen arrives at Gayle's office, which is shrouded in shadows. Apparently, it's pretty late. Gayle pops her head out and says she'll be right with Karen. The radio is on in the background, conveniently tuned to Lily's station. The DJ, Michael, introduces Lily, which gets Karen's attention.
Cut to the station, where Michael asks Lily to confirm that she'd never been on the radio before the other day, and that she doesn't have a degree. He asks what makes her qualified to give advice to other people. Lily totally spoils my fun with an unexpected bout of self-awareness. She says, "Well, first of all, I don't listen. I'm not a good listener. That helps."
Rick stops the truck to focus on what Lily's saying over the radio. Her voice intones, "I'm convinced that I'm completely right and other people are completely wrong, and I'm always very happy to tell them how wrong they are. That really helps. I mean, sure, I can be compassionate with strangers, but when it comes to dealing with people I actually know, I'm finding out I'm...I'm having more trouble than I thought."
Over at the station, Lily's wryly smiling at her self-deprecation, admitting, "I've noticed lately that I've been more or less oblivious to other people's pain."
Karen's sitting in the lawyer's waiting room, gritting her teeth and shaking her head as she listens to Lily. Her legs are tightly crossed to contain the fury of the ass-pole.
Ah, but then Lily says these magic words: "I've spent the past week just blind, not seeing someone who's doing the absolute best that they can, whose feelings I have completely ignored. Who has every right to feel the way they do about me. And if by some miracle this person is actually listening right now, I just want them to know that I do understand, and I am truly sorry."
Grace, who's been listening to the broadcast in her room, sits up and takes notice when she hears the generic apology. Rick stares lovingly at his truck's radio as the DJ winds up the interview. Rick smiles to himself as he starts the truck, happy to be heading home to such a wise, wise woman.
The magic apology was even strong enough to drain all the piss and vinegar out of the ass-pole. Karen sits slumped on the sofa, mulling over Lily's words and tearing up. She shakes her head a little, grabs her coat, and slips out of the office.
Over at the station, the Curmudgeon finds Lily sitting alone in the darkened booth. "You realize you're off the air," he says. She beams and says she was just thinking. He asks if she's okay, the big softy. "Am I supposed to like it this much?" she asks. "I dunno. I know I did," the Curmudgeon answers. He tells her to come on; he'll walk her to her car. Lily takes a deep breath and glances around for one last look at her new love. She stops when she catches her reflection in the booth window. Suddenly, she doesn't look so thrilled anymore.