Before the hiatus, Karen sank into depression, suffered panic attacks, and kicked out her wayward son, Eli, who's had trouble holding down a job and mustering up some ambition. Karen then got hit by a car.
Karen is lying down in her hospital bed, banged up and bloodied, eyes closed. Soliloquy Karen appears in her usual black-and-white, clad in a hospital gown but completely unharmed. She stares at the ceiling, confused, and we pan up to bleeping equipment. Karen then jolts awake, gasping for breath.
Eli rolls awake and becomes faintly aware of Jessie sitting a few feet away from him, having breached the sacrosanct Pot Barn threshold. Jessie's wearing headphones and writing "Music 4 Mom" on a CD case, with a little heart dotting the "I." Oh dear. And I'd always liked Jessie. Eli grouses that he never gave his sister permission to use his CD burner, but she's sitting to a stereo and not a computer, so I've no clue where the burner is or why she needs headphones, since the little elves that live inside CD burners tend to work silently. Maybe Eli has a high-falutin' stereo that records CD mixes. Oh, Eli -- always with the "high." Jessie points out that Eli could've done it himself if he'd heeded her first thirty requests for help, then asks whether Eli will finally go visit Karen today. "I don't like hospitals," he grouses. "So what?" Jessie counters. "Nobody likes them. What kind of excuse is that?" And there it is: proof that, while the size and rigidity of the ass-pole may vary, the Ass-Pole chromosome is alive and kicking. Eli is crabby that she's in his room and trying to lecture him, but since he's more or less incapable of stringing words together into intelligent sentences, he resorts to flouncing and door-slamming and other tools of the verbally impaired.
Rick is downstairs fussing with insurance paperwork, but I can't figure out what he's doing -- I think he's just trying to make sure Karen's policy covers everything she needed done. Zoe and Grace show up long enough to bolt out the door; Eli and Jessie, coming down from the Pot Barn, enter through it seconds later. Jessie resists Rick's low-key insistence that she attend school, arguing that her time is better spent at Karen's bedside. Lily nibbles her lip a bit, and then brightly offers to take Jessie to see her mother at 4:30. "That's too late," mutters Jessie crabbily. She pleads with Eli to drive her, but he lobs a bogus excuse about wanting to take Karen's car into the shop because it's making strange noises. No, Eli, that's the sound of the beating of that horrible heart, you guilty-looking bratface. "Are you ever planning to visit Mom?" Jessie snaps. Eli glares at her. Lily senses that she's needed here. Neither rain nor snow nor sleet nor hail, nor squabbling stepchildren can keep Lily from meddling. She decides she can pick them both up at 4 and cart them to the hospital. Jessie, annoyed but sensing she won't get her own way, reluctantly consents. Eli just broods.
Black-and-white Karen -- who I'm going to call InnerKaren because she exists only to give speeches from Karen's soul -- swivels around on the Soliloquy Stool and says, "I don't remember it happening, exactly. I only remember what I was thinking right before it happened." She peers upward, and we see Regis and Kelly bickering on the TV screen. She was thinking about daytime television? No wonder a car mowed her down.
No, wait, the television is in Karen's hospital room. She's stiffly rubbing her head. A perky African-American man in blue scrubs bounds into the room and flicks on the light, which causes Karen to recoil slightly. "Karen Sammler?" he asks. She huskily confirms this. He cheerfully ignores her plea to turn off the light and exclaims in pleasure when he sees Live With Regis and Kelly. Within two seconds, Karen has switched it off. Hee. Her inner bitch at least survived the accident. There's an uncomfortable part where Karen mistakes her visitor for an orderly, but he shrugs it off and introduces himself as Henry, her physical therapist. Karen eyes him warily. "I didn't know I had one," she croaks through her cracked, bloodied lips. She's not moving, but you can see in her face that she's shrinking away from him. "Hi," Henry smiles. "Hi," Karen mocks, as if to say, "Yes, please, keep right on bothering me." Henry notices how banged up she is. "What did you do, get hit by a truck or something?" he wonders. Her reproachful look tells him everything. Either he's the world's most ill-informed physical therapist, or he's reading her worse than an illiterate cow tackling War and Peace. Henry lifts up her blanket while Karen tenses as much as she possibly can; he grabs her wounded left leg, which isn't in a cast like the right one is. This is evidently their first session together, which is odd considering she didn't even know she had a therapist. You'd think they would introduce her to the idea first, rather than having him show up unannounced and get grabby with her legs. Karen protests worriedly that she thought the prescription was for bed rest. "Are you giving up on me already?" he demands perkily. Karen's just staring at him, unable to believe that things could've gotten worse, and yet sadly aware that they have. She desperately wants him to piss off and let her wallow. But he can't, so she lets Henry grab her foot and bend her knee by the merest fraction. Karen shrieks in pain. "I can't...can't do this...right now," she pants, wheezing in agony. "But Karen, you have a long road ahead. The sooner you get started and focused on what we need to do, the easier it's going to be," Henry lectures. Isn't it a bit soon to drop the You Can Do It, Karen, If You Believe In Yourself speech? I mean, the ass-pole is still in traction. "Not today," Karen mumbles, looking morosely at the wall. Henry vows to return. "Great," she lies. InnerKaren appears, looking very vulnerable, shot from above and standing barefoot in the Soliloquy Salon. "For the first time in a long time, I was thinking..." she begins. Karen calls after Henry to turn off the light. "...starting to feel like things could get better," InnerKaren finishes. As Henry darkens the hospital room, the spotlight turns off, cloaking InnerKaren in shadowy darkness. This is in case anyone doubted that Henry would be the one to turn the light of her soul back on.
Eli wanders into Booklovers looking scruffy. That probably went without saying, though. Judy greets him warmly and immediately asks how Karen's doing. "She's okay," Eli fibs. "Actually, I came by to get her something to read." Judy's thrilled, and asks if Karen is able to read now. "She is, thanks to Hooked on Phonics," Eli grins. He and Judy hold hands and sing. Eli tells Judy he's not sure whether Karen's been reading or not. "Is she eating better?" Judy presses. Backed into a corner, Eli admits he hasn't visited Karen but pretends it's because he's a mover and a shaker, rather than a joker and a smoker and a midnight toker. Of course, Judy interprets this to mean that Eli got another job, so of course, Eli has to dispel the notion. There's a reason that "Eli" anagrams to "lie." Embarrassed, Judy changes the subject by remembering she has a book Karen wanted. While she rummages through a stack, though, it topples over into Eli's leg and he bends over to help pick them up. I seriously got scared that this would turn into a sweaty, fumbling moment of sexual tension, but fortunately the writers of Once and Again are at least trying to put out quality television. If there's chemistry there, it's being ignored. Eli has a brainwave: put these loose books on shelves! What a kook, that Eli. But wait...you know, he might just have something there. Judy is similarly intrigued and asks if Eli has a few days free to test-drive this insanity. "I can pay a really crappy wage," she grins hopefully. Eli chuckles. "I could use a really crappy wage," he says gratefully. "Plus I have had extensive experience in shelving." He thanks her, tempering his gratitude with some self-indulgent remark about how she's only doing this because she pities him. Judy rolls her eyes and hands him Karen's book, free of charge.
Lily charges purposefully out of the hospital elevator, with Jessie and Eli trailing her. Eli has a case of the sulks. Symptoms: spiky hair, hunched shoulders, narrow eyes, shifty gaze, and a relentless propensity for nostril-flaring. He testily notes that he hates the way hospitals smell. Lily offers to hang back while Jessie and Eli surprise Karen. "Would you come on?" Jessie gritches at Eli, who slouches and shuffles his way down the hall with her. "Are you high?" she accuses. He denies it, but Jessie's certain he is and resents that he smoked up before coming. Eli hangs his head. He's probably high. He's so boring.
Jessie bumps into a nurse who's leaving Karen's room. The nurse blithely warns Jessie and Eli that Karen's groggy from her medication. The kids creep toward Karen's bed, pulling back the curtain to reveal her lying sleepily on her back. "Hey, my babies!" she slurs. Eli awkwardly brandishes the book he brought. "I love books," murmurs Karen. "I know," he says uncomfortably, shifting his weight and settling for leaning against the sink. Jessie excitedly shows Karen the mix CD and says she brought Karen's Walkman. Eagerly, she talks about the A-minus she got on her science report, but Karen doesn't have much to say; she's incredibly out of it, which deflates Jessie a tad. "I'm just going to close my eyes for a minute," Karen says tiredly. "I'm so happy you're both here." Eli sighs hard as Jessie looks incredibly sad. "Mom?" she whispers. There's a prolonged beeping noise here, which for a second sounded like Karen was flatlining, but it was just the hospital PA system. Sneaky.
An old man with a rolling IV stand ogles Lily in the waiting room, so she gathers up her coat and hightails it to Karen's room, having gone long enough without butting her rather prodigious nose into the action. Karen is asleep, while Jessie sits wistfully at her bedside and Eli slumps glumly into a chair. Jessie voices her irritation that they got there too late to spend quality time with Karen. Eli figures she's out for the night, and complains that he's hungry and thinks they should leave. Jessie disagrees. "She might wake up," she says desperately. Lily agrees with Eli, though, which pushes Jessie even further in the opposite direction. She snaps at Lily. "I'm not going anywhere, Lily. This is my mother," she says fervently. "I'm not going to leave her. " Karen hears voices through her sedated fog and rolls slightly toward Jessie. "Lily?" she calls weakly. "Hi, Karen, how are you feeling?" Lily replies awkwardly. Karen babbles that she loves "those cookies with vanilla icing," and pats Jessie's face absently before falling asleep again. Jessie is crushed. Lily, sensing she should relent, tells Jessie she'll send Rick to pick her up later and exits with Eli. Jessie gazes at Karen, troubled, and strokes her hand lovingly.
The morning, Lily presents Jessie with a package of cookies from the store. "Those have vanilla icing," she points out, proud of herself. Jessie's gaze barely flickers toward the proffered cookies before she deems them the incorrect kind. Lily wants to pick up the right kind, but Jessie blithely tells her she only knows them by sight and will take care of it herself. She breezes out of the house, leaving Lily stunned, speechless and mildly wounded. We hear screams...
...and it's Karen, lying in her hospital bed screeching herself into oblivion. The roars emitting from her battered body sound eerie like labor pains. Her right hand tenses, throbs, trembles, until Henry eases off on her leg. "That's how we know when to stop," he says jovially. Karen laughs bitterly. Henry notes that the swelling has gone down in her leg, which is a good sign. "Stay with me," he urges. Karen clenches her fists and raises her arms above her head in anticipation of agony. He asks her to bend her knee slowly while he supports it. "It really hurts," Karen whimpers. "Here we go," Henry persists gently. "Knee up, and slide your foot toward your butt-ocks." I love when people pronounce "buttocks" as if it's two separate words. It sounds so silly. Karen is moaning like crazy, squeezing her pillow around her head, as if it will swallow her up and deliver her from Henry's horrors. "Okay! Wonderful," Henry chirps, relaxing her leg. InnerKaren tenses. "Stop it," she whispers. In the scene, Henry says, "One more time, and I promise I'll give you some rest." InnerKaren is going nuts, desperately aggravated at being physically helpless and under someone else's control. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" she chants, grabbing her head in frustration. Finally, the actual Karen acts on her inner impulse. "Just stop," she shouts weakly, her voice thick with the promise of tears. "I can't stand to be talked to like I'm a mental patient!" Henry doesn't appreciate this. His face darkens. "Try it again, okay?" he says emotionlessly. Karen exhales hard.
Jake strolls through Booklovers and stumbles upon Eli sitting cross-legged in front of the magazine rack, his nose buried deep into an issue of something that probably has a tattooed, pierced, drug-addled, eyeliner-wearing guitarist on the cover. "How's it going?" Jake asks politely. Eli peers up at him. "Good," he replies, making no attempt to pretend he was doing something work-related and not even having the courtesy to stand up when his boss addresses him. Jake should step on him, except Eli's artful coif might pierce the skin. Jake asks Eli to help out in the kitchen, because a big food delivery just came in and they're short-handed. "I didn't know I'd be doing restaurant stuff," Eli says, not realizing how rude and ungrateful he sounds. "Well, you are," Jake replies, while he inwardly wonders what this kid doesn't understand about the concept of Me Boss, You Employee. Eli good-naturedly heads back to the kitchen, but Jake doesn't care much for what he's seen, and makes a beeline for Judy. "I know he's a good kid, and he's got a lot going on, but I need somebody who's here on planet Earth," Jake criticizes. Judy cracks that Eli has extensive shelving experience, but when Jake's expression remains grim, she somberly promises that Eli will do just fine there. Jake is skeptical, but stays silent.
In her hospital bed, Karen signs a few insurance forms Rick has brought. "Thanks for doing this," she says gratefully. Rick sits down, his constantly wet eyes threatening to flood, and expresses relief that she's feeling better, though he can't articulate why and is clearly overcome by the entire fact of her accident. "Why do I feel like everyone's tiptoeing around me?" she asks. Rick clears his throat and says, very stilted, "I want to apologize for...things. That might've happened. Before." I think he's worried she'll sink deeper into whatever depression gripped her prior to the accident. Karen regards him affectionately, sensing how jarred he is at seeing her so wounded. "Is Eli coming by to see me today?" she asks, deftly changing the subject. "Yeah," Rick says, relieved. He tells a delighted Karen that Eli took a temp job at Booklovers. Wistfully, Karen rues that she's barely seen Eli since the accident. "Can't say I blame him," she self-deprecates. Yes, you can. So what if you kicked him out? He was being a little asshole. His little asshole head was stuffed up his little asshole, and that giant ball of headless Eli was rolling around willy-nilly, knocking people down. One might say that I don't like Eli. Rick stands, leaves a copy of her forms for Karen, and squeezes her hand tenderly before taking leave of her.
Later, Rick rifles frantically through a bunch of paperwork strewn around the bedroom. Lily enters and watches, amused, as she goes about whatever business brought her into the room. "Stage business," I think it's called. Rick mutters that he can't find a specific form Karen needs. "Maybe it's in this pile," Lily suggests. "No, it's not in that pile," Rick snaps. "I looked already." Lily's all, "Oookay, Dick Sammler." Rick shrugs on his jacket and explains to an inquisitive Lily that he's going to Karen's house to pick up a bunch of stuff. "Isn't that something her assistant could do?" Lily asks. I appreciate that she senses his agitation and wants him to sit down and relax, but come on. It's his ex-wife. Of fourteen years. Let him do what he has to do. (That's my polite way of saying, "Go stick your nose in the long-distance bill where it belongs, Lily.") But Rick, because his spine's as stiff as water, plops onto the bed and agrees with Lily. He confesses to being overly obsessed with helping Karen, to the point that he's too involved. "It's understandable," Lily coos, slinking toward him. But Rick thinks it's weird. Lily kneels before him and quietly avers that it IS normal, because he and Karen shared a life together and he'd be inhuman not to be adversely affected by Karen's accident. "Just try to do whatever you can to help," Lily insists. Then why was she telling him to fob off some errands on Karen's assistant? Whatever, babe. Both sides of your mouth are talking. Shut one of them up. Rick brokenly admits that he still cares about Karen. "I know you do," Lily says passionately. "You're not betraying me." Tearfully, Rick says he was scared Karen would die. "I don't know why I thought maybe it wasn't..." Rick begins. Lily silences him with a kiss. I don't quite understand that exchange, but I'm going to guess that Rick was scared his feelings of concern meant his relationship with Lily was somehow flawed. Lily pulls away for a breath, then shrugs off her blue shirt and goes back in for a tonsil suck.
The sheath of blue fabric transitions us to the hospital, where Jessie has just taken off her light blue winter coat. Jessie proudly hands Karen a bag of cookies, and although Karen doesn't remember asking for them, she warmly accepts them. "I must've been dreaming about that little Italian bakery on Sullivan Street," she grins, sniffing the cookies. Jessie's face falls as Karen goes on and on about the fresh cookies there. "Eli knows the place," Karen says dreamily, not noticing that she's just kicked her daughter in the gut. "Those aren't the right ones?" Jessie asks, crushed. "These look great," Karen says happily, putting the cookies on her bedside table and eagerly asking Jessie about Eli. "I thought he was coming with you," Karen says. Jessie uncomfortably shares that Eli didn't show up to pick her up from her therapy session. Karen can't hide her disappointment. I get the sense she's eager to reach out to Eli, and not to play favorites, however unwittingly. Jessie tries not to look hurt. Karen scolds her very properly for walking instead of calling somebody else to ask for a ride. Karen then sends her daughter to the cafeteria to get some food for herself. As Jessie leaves, the nurse enters, so Jessie hangs around long enough to overhear that Karen's about to use a bedpan. She's freaked and still pretty emotional, and it's probably worth noting that we never do see her go down to the cafeteria.
Eli strums his guitar in the Pot Barn. I don't wholly recognize what he's playing, but it sounds like it might be "Everlong," by the Foo Fighters. A livid Jessie bursts in through the door, and although a giant cloud of pot smoke does not waft into her face, I'm sure it should have. "You don't even care, do you?" she screams. "What is your problem?" spits Eli. "Mom almost died, Eli. Does that even faze you?" she rages. "I cannot see how you can be like this!" Eli grumps, "Be like what? I'm not like anything!" I suspect that's precisely the problem. Jessie lacks the words to capture Karen's expression when she realized Eli ditched her. "It was just sad," she attempts. "It was just really sad." Eli brats that it's not his fault Jessie's obsessed with being to Karen every second of every day. I think Jessie's feeling guilty, certain her period of accidentally ignoring Karen kicked off the depression, and vowing never to let her mother down again. She's overcompensating, but Eli's just sitting on his skinny, increasingly unattractive ass and doing nothing but strum his guitar and dream of the day his new song, "A Truck Flattened my Mother," wins a Grammy. Eli twists the knife in Jessie's gut by sniping that him being at the hospital isn't going to help Karen recover. Jessie shakes her head, chock full of ire. "I hate you," she hisses firmly, so utterly without histrionics that it's clear part of her really means it. Evan Rachel Wood is ridiculously talented. Eli just rolls his eyes and then uses the commercial break to roll another joint. I assume. I wonder if Shane West is a total pothead and the producers have no choice but to make Eli look stoned all the time.
Rick ducks his head into the Pot Barn at 7:30 the morning and wakes up Eli. Rick tells him to drag himself to his feet and take Jessie to school. "I have to start locking the door," moans Eli. Frankly, I'm stunned he doesn't have some kind of auto-lock mechanism. Rick pauses, then tries to be casual in asking why Eli didn't visit Karen. "I got caught up at work," lies Eli. Rick, as pissed as Rick ever gets about the small stuff -- mild brow furrowing, a slight case of the tizzies -- is pissed at Eli for ditching Jessie without calling Rick first. He laments that he can't trust Eli any more to help with the day-to-day operations of Sammler-Manning Enterprises. Eli shows his usual disdain for authority, but at least pretends he "get it" and agrees to be ready in fifteen minutes to drive Jessie to school. But as soon as Rick closes the door, Eli cocoons himself in his comforter.
Evidently, though, Jessie made it to class either with or without Eli's help. She's sitting there now, listening to her teacher ask people to connect Manifest Destiny to the current political climate. He's figuring this will contextualize the long-ago-coined term, but he's made one fatal mistake: he assumes these kids pay attention to such things as "the news" and "politics" and "climate." The teacher picks on Jessie, who looks like she's about to muster up something halfway intelligent until she spies her pal Katie watching her from the hallway. Why isn't Katie in class? Jessie chokes back whatever original thought she'd formed and instead says she has no opinion on this whatsoever. The teacher understands. "I know you're going through a situation," he says kindly, which doesn't explain why he bothered asking her in the first place. Oh, I think it's because Homework is Mandatory, which is the ballad her history teacher is singing right now. As Jessie looks vaguely embarrassed that he brought her personal trauma into the classroom, the bell rings.
Jessie escapes into Katie's hungry arms. Well, that's the way it happens in Katie's head, anyway. "That was so uncalled for," Katie gripes supportively. "No, I'm an idiot," Jessie demurs. Katie encourages Jessie to ditch the rest of the day; the Ass-Pole Gene tells Jessie to stay where she is and learn things and educate herself, but unfortunately, Jessie also has Rick's Liquid Spine chromosome and it trumps Ass-Pole like rock to scissors. Jessie and Katie scamper outside.
Judy grins her way into Karen's hospital room, toting some munchies and a modest bouquet of flowers, which is dwarfed by the growing garden of blossoms in the room. It'd be nice to see whom some of them are from. Where's Leo in all this? Off making movies, I suppose. Karen immediately thanks her profusely for taking a chance on Eli. "I know it's only a few days, but it's great," Karen beams. Judy says it could end up being more than that, because so far, so good. Karen's relief is tangible. But InnerKaren's as vexed as ever. "When Eli was sixteen months old, he knew a hundred words," she remembers dreamily. "I was convinced he was a genius." Then InnerKaren sighs sadly. "He was my first-born. He was my hero," she whispers with feeling. "And I just couldn't understand [it] when things started to go wrong." She stares morosely into space, volumes of pain and confusion clouding her eyes. Susanna Thompson has mastered that expression. She's so wasted in dreck like Kevin Costner's Dragonfly, which I don't need to see to know that the material is beneath her. Back to the scene: Karen stares blankly at Judy, unable to pay attention to her friend's conversation because she's preoccupied inside. InnerKaren continues, "I blamed it on school, and Rick, and myself. Truth is, I just keep thinking he's going to turn it all around."
Katie lightly fingers Jessie's solar system. No, that's not a euphemism -- Jessie really does have a hanging model of the solar system, and Katie really is feeling up one of the planets. It's probably Jupiter. It's always Jupiter, that slut. "My dad made that," Jessie smiles. She plops down on the bed and bounces lightly, as if remembering how it used to feel when she flopped on the bed as a young girl. She can't believe it's been so long since she lived in this room full-time. Katie wonders which room Jessie prefers. "This one's nicer, but I guess I like the other one because it's in the attic and it's, like, away from everything," Jessie decides. Katie compares the attic room to a private apartment or loft, and as she does it, she walks around to the empty side of Jessie's bed and peels off her sweatshirt. Underneath, she's wearing a clingy red tank top. Jessie, lying on her side facing Katie with her cheek leaning against her hand, ogles this. It's subtle, but you can tell she's appreciating the goods. Katie curls her legs underneath herself and fantasizes about owning a loft in London. "I want to live on a ranch," Jessie says dreamily. Katie stares at her affectionately. "I can see that," she breathes. Katie then lies down, facing Jessie, staring right into her friend's eyes with a very raw directness. "Of course, we couldn't see each other," she says, meaningfully. Jessie smiles. "You could visit," Jessie says, equally meaningfully, even if she isn't aware of that fact. "So could you," Katie counters. The two girls stare at each other for a few beats that seriously make the Clark-Lex undercurrent on Smallville look like a tiny puddle of hate.
Footsteps on the stairs. Lily appears in the doorway, and Jessie's eyes fly wide open. She whirls around to face her stepmother. "What are you doing here?" she demands. Lily explains that she's there running an errand for Rick, picking up stuff to bring to Karen. "I could've done that," Jessie snaps. "I assumed you were in school," Lily replies pointedly, wondering if there's any reason Jessie isn't, in fact, at school. Jessie sighs and hangs her head, aware that she's going to lose this one.
A blonde in a short, tight, revealing blue dress and knee-high boots strolls languidly in front of a bookshelf. Eli stares over it at her, then rounds the corner to introduce himself. "Hi," he slobbers. "Hi," she says, mostly ignoring him. Eli introduces himself and offers to help her find anything she might need, including her G-spot. The blonde doesn't look angry, but clearly acts uninterested in the diversion, strolling away in boredom. Honey, if you don't want to swim in a tide of hormones, don't wear a skintight slip to the bookstore, okay? Thanks. Eli stares after her, so enthralled that he doesn't notice Jake's disapproving glances. "What are you doing?" Jake asks pleasantly, an irked edge to his voice. Eli doesn't really have a good answer, as usual. Jake orders him to the coffee bar. "Listen, Eli," he adds. "Let me give you some advice. If you work in a place like this, stay as cognizant as possible." Jake stares searchingly into Eli's pupils as he extols the merits of being aware of what's going on around him. It's kind of funny, because it's so clearly a "lay off the weed" lecture, though neither admits it and it's possible Eli doesn't even realize it. Shocker.
As soon as Eli's out of earshot, Judy scurries up to Jake. "What are you doing?" she hisses. Jake insists that he's just trying to help, but Judy thinks he's being a hard-ass. That's such a lame argument. Eli clearly isn't working: Jake caught him loafing around and then salivating over a female customer, so technically, Jake would be right to lecture, suspend, or fire Eli. Stupid Judy is being stupid with men again. Jake gets right up in Judy's face and spit-whispers that the men's room reeks of pot. "It could be anybody," Judy actually says. "It could be clove cigarettes!" Um, neither of which solves the problem that someone's smoking in your lavatory. Stupid Judy is apparently stupid with a lot of things besides men. Still, as Jake storms off to have a wee pout, Judy drifts toward the kitchen and asks a guy named Kenny to fetch Eli. "He just left," Kenny says. Judy's stunned, and rather frustrated.
Lily and Rick clomp up Jessie's stairs and find her curled up on the bed. Jessie's room is really cool, decked out in eclectic wall-hangings and some filmy blue curtains hung up around her bed. I wonder where it all came from, or from whom it came, given that her room at Karen's place is very princessy. Jessie sits up, anticipating their speeches, and immediately but insincerely apologizes for ditching school. "I've never done it before, I won't do it again, and if you want to punish me, fine, but I really don't feel like talking about it," she blurts, defensively and without much interest in their responses. Rick wants to discuss it briefly. "We're not mad at you," Lily reassures her stepdaughter. "It's a confusing time for you." Jessie groans. "You don't know anything," she seethes. Rick bristles at her bad manners. But Jessie won't be silenced, ranting about Lily's unwelcome presence in Karen's house. She believes Lily has no business going there. Jessie's reaction is understandable, and might be justified if Lily had wandered in on her own accord and rifled through Karen's things in search of stuff to bring to the hospital. But that wasn't the case -- Lily probably felt uncomfortable about being there, and only went because Rick is frazzled and needed a favor. Nobody defends her on this one, though. Lily lamely says she was only trying to be of service. "You're not helping!" yells Jessie. "I wish you'd stop trying to act like my mother, because you're not my mother and you never will be!" She stomps off toward her bed and curls up on it with her back facing a startled Rick and Lily. They cleverly intuit that this conversation is over, at least for the moment.
Karen pants her way through another session with Henry, a sentence Niki might get to write in a new context if things progress the way people speculate they will. Henry points to the photos of Eli and Jessie -- one of which is clearly from the first season, which is a lovely touch -- and asks if they're her children. "They must miss you," he says. "Let's get you well so you can go home." Man, he's well-intentioned, but he's ham-handed. He's not even cloaking his attempts to be The Bestest Motivator Ever, which makes his remark about how he's not cheerleading her today all the more amusingly wrong. "I've had enough," Karen decides. Henry doesn't like this idea and wants to go a bit longer. Karen reaches a shaky hand toward her glass of water and takes a long sip. Henry then drops his bombshell: he thinks Karen's ready to try using the walker. Karen's face is all, "Fuck that noise." Henry gives her his best You're Strong On the Inside look and wheedles, "I think you are [ready]." Karen's irritated that he's so assured and isn't giving her a say in this.
Henry calmly starts anew with the leg exercises, slyly asking Karen how long she was married. "Fourteen years," Karen says through gritted teeth as she puts every ounce of effort into moving her leg. Henry establishes that she's never remarried and that she has joint custody of the children. Lord, he's so blatant, totally reminding her of all the people in the wide world who need her to start walking again. "Do you mind if we don't have any small talk right now?" Karen snaps. Henry claims he's just trying to get to know his patient, and shoots her his best Do It For the Children, The Children! look. It's not liquefying the Ass-Pole. Henry tells her to focus. "I have been trying to focus, but you won't shut up," Karen gripes. Henry throws up his hands and lectures that if she doesn't want to take advantage of what's been given her, and use those inner and outer resources to cure herself, then great. "But let's get one things straight," Henry adds. "I'm not the one who's stopping you." Karen snorts. "What? Am I the one getting in my own way? Is that the reason your little motivational speeches aren't working? And your goading questions about my kids?" Henry blinks. "Let me tell you something," Karen fumes, really warming up to the idea of ripping Henry a new one and kicking him straight to Proctology. "You are condescending and you're patronizing, you're the opposite of motivating," Karen shouts. Henry blinks again. She's right. If you take away the questions, and the banter, and the leading, probing questions, all you've got is a bald guy named Henry who looks cute in blue. Which actually isn't such a bad prospect. There's a really weird edit here because it cuts to Henry for a fleeting second, then cuts back to Karen screaming, "Don't you laugh at me!" And I can't figure out why he'd have been laughing, since she just insulted him. I suspect some dialogue got trimmed. Anyway, Karen rants that Henry totally doesn't know what it's like to have his life torn to shreds in a split-second. I'm betting Henry has a very sensitive story about why he entered physical therapy, and it's probably extremely valuable to Karen's mental recovery and will teach us all an important lesson about life, love and bedpans. But we'll have to wait and see if I'm right. Her outburst leaves Karen short of breath, and she sinks deep into her pillow, twisting her hands and turning her face toward the wall, agonized, fighting valiantly against showing Henry any tears. "You get some rest," Henry says, stone-faced. "See you tomorrow." Karen, now alone, starts sobbing.
Rick and Lily cook up breakfast for the brood. As opposed to Eli, who cooks up a nice long brood. Lily offers Grace half a bagel; she's all, "Half?" Lily puzzles at Grace only being hungry for breakfast on Saturdays. "I do it merely to puzzle you," Grace says. And that's her only contribution to the episode. Zoe, meanwhile, has a brown placemat on her head in a half-turban, half-Flying Nun getup, and buzzes over to accept eggs from Rick. Jessie arrives downstairs, looking very fresh-faced and pretty in a mock turtleneck sweater, and announces that she needs a ride to the hospital. Rick offers to take her, if she'll let him stop by Sam Blue's place first; in the background, Lily subtly and without fanfare -- and without even looking at her daughter -- plucks the placemat from Zoe's passing head. It's almost a lost moment, but it's so honest, and stuff like that is why I love Once and Again. Jessie rejects Rick's offer primly, because she doesn't want to wait. This presents Lily with the perfect opportunity for martyrdom, and she seizes upon it hungrily, offering to take Jessie to see Karen immediately. As Rick is thrilled and Jessie glowers, Zoe's crafty little hand reaches into the background of the shot and yanks the placemat off the counter, because by now, Lily isn't paying attention to it. Again, a completely honest moment, and again, it's a lovely little gift for people who get a chance to look for it. Off-camera, we hear Grace say with the utmost exasperation, "Zoe!" To which Zoe whines, "What?!" All that happens while the viewers watch Jessie sulk a tad, but ultimately resign herself to accepting Lily's assistance once more.
Judy calls for Eli, and Rick answers; he asks Grace to brave the Pot Barn, but Zoe butts in first and innocently blabs that she doesn't think Eli came home at all last night. Grace kicks her flagrantly under the table, without bothering to conceal the universal sign for "Hey, stupid, that was a secret." Rick's hardly happy, and asks Judy if Eli was supposed to show up for work. "No," Judy hedges. "He just...left a little early yesterday." Rick is angry that Eli bolted without explanation, and clenches his jaw.
As the car pulls up to the hospital, Jessie makes a move to get out, but Lily stops her. "I know you don't want to have this converation, so I'm sorry, but I have something to say and you need to listen," Lily begins. "I have no intention of trying to replace your mother. I can't! Nobody can. But I do have a role in your life now, and I happen to be really happy about that." Lily's face is utterly open and honest. She means this; even Jessie can see that. "I think you're terrific," Lily adds. "Smart. And I'm proud to be a part of your life." Jessie looks sad, but her expression is just inscrutable enough that I can't tell if she's inwardly eating crow or just trying to be polite while silently disregarding everything Lily says. "I know this is a difficult time for you," Lily continues. "It's a difficult time for everyone, and I need you to know that I'm here for you. Anything you need. Just know that." Jessie sighs and stares out the windshield, leaning tiredly against the seat. She looks up at Lily and takes a deep breath. "Thank you," she says, very sincerely, and even a tad moved. But she's not ready for anything more than that, so she hops out of the car and doesn't see Lily reach for her. Lily's outstretched arm and hand barely graze Jessie's shoulder before she's out of the car and the door is closed. Lily instinctively clutches at the air, then lets her arm drop cheerlessly to the seat. Her breath catches in her throat, and she heaves a loud, choked breath. She sniffles and stares after her troubled stepdaughter.
Eli rummages in Karen's refrigerator. Rick enters the kitchen and is surprised to see his son there clearing out in anticipation of Karen's return home. "I know I'm not supposed to be here," Eli says quietly, with a hint of bitterness. Rick is obtuse. "I got kicked out, remember?" Eli prompts him. Rick grits his teeth and starts in on a speech about Karen, but Eli doesn't want to hear it. "It's all right. I'm a screw-up," he says self-pityingly. Rick testily says he isn't defending Eli or Karen at this point, because it's all bullshit in light of what happened. "I know your mother loves you," he whispers. "I know she wants to see you, and I know you've been avoiding it." Eli smiles tersely. "Do you really think it'd make her feel better if I sat there and reminded her?" he asks edgily. "Of what?" Rick asks, genuinely confused. "Of how much I disappointed her! How much I let her down!" blurts Eli. He stares morosely into the fridge, overcome. Oh, Eli, this is so not about you. Grow up. Rick crosses the room to his son and gently explains that this is about Karen and what she's been through, and that she needs her loved ones to stop getting high and navel-gazing and start caring about her recovery. Okay, I paraphrased a little. "I need you to grow up," Rick spits, frustrated. Three cheers for Rick! "You're a man now, whether you like it or not," Rick continues. "And I need you to see yourself this way. For your sister and your mother, but for me, too." Rick gulps and admits he can't do this alone. "Everything about this family has changed," Rick observes. "But the truth is, we still need each other." Eli seems ashamed. Rick walks over and tenderly squeezes the back of his son's neck. They help each other clear out the fridge. Male bonding? Sure, why not.
Later, Eli stops by Booklovers and peeks into the back office, looking for Judy. She's there with Jake, working peacefully. Jake barely acknowledges Eli's presence. Awkwardly, Eli apologizes for leaving early and not telling them his whereabouts. He compliments Booklovers and thanks them for giving him a chance, and turns to leave. Essentially, he's owning up to his irresponsibility without exactly admitting he was irresponsible. Somehow, this charms Judy and Jake, the latter of whom suddenly yells, "You willing to work on Sundays?" Eli stops. A slow grin breaks across his face. "Sure!" he says. "Anything." Jake casually tells him they'll test that arrangement for a while before deciding how to proceed. Judy gives Eli a warm smile, and he departs, relieved. Judy turns full around and thanks Jake for sticking his neck out again. He nods and feigns nonchalance, but the corners of his mouth twitch and it's clear he empathized with Eli on some level and wanted him to do well. Somehow, that half-assed apology bought Eli a second chance.
Jessie is sitting with Karen when they hear a knock at the door. It's Eli, toting Karen's pillow from home and a small pink box. Karen eagerly grabs the pillow, fluffs it and stuffs it behind her back. "You have no idea how much I've missed this," she sighs delightedly. Eli hands her the box, which Karen opens to discover the vanilla cookies she loves so much. "Those are the ones, right?" Eli grins. Karen is utterly touched, as well she should be, because the gift of sugar is the greatest gift of all. They each take a cookie, and while Jessie nibbles half-heartedly at it -- but seems to be in a much better mood -- Karen chomps down on the cookie and listens as Eli perches on her bed and tells her about his job at Booklovers. Karen glows with pride. "When are you getting out of here?" Eli asks, still slightly ill-at-ease. Karen isn't sure, but has a favor to ask: "I was wondering if [when I am released] you would pick me up?" A gleam of hope flickers in Eli's eyes. He agrees. , Karen nervously asks Eli to move back in with her so that she has someone there to help her negotiate the stairs, and any unexpected obstacles. Eli's jaw is tense, which is Shane West's signal for "I am moved beyond belief." He agrees again, and Karen grabs his hand in loving gratitude. Eli can't handle the emotion, so he lightens the moment by picking on his sister for eating too many cookies. That's right -- his anorexic sister. Who is notorious for not eating anything. Way to be sensitive. Whenever I have the slightest feeling of sympathy for this character, he does something boneheaded to obliterate it. Eli grabs Jessie and picks her up, and the trio laughs together while the siblings engage in horseplay. It should be touching, but it's kind of stupid, because all he does is spin Jessie around and she's squealing like he's poking her with hot forks.
Time passes. A new day dawns in Karen's room, and she's listening to her CD and writing in a journal when Henry arrives with a wheelchair. He stops it in front of her bed and plops down in it. "How are you feeling?" he asks, cautiously. "Better," Karen nods. "What do you have in store for me today?" Henry suggests that she take her first steps with the walker, and then gazes curiously at Karen, waiting for her refusal and her rapid-fire protests, insults, or anything else she's apt to spew. What he gets instead is pleasant compliance. Henry thinks she can do it, so she'll do it. Cue the uplifting singing ovary.
As Henry helps Karen out of bed, she spots his full name stitched on the pocket in some fairly absurd, thick cursive. "Higgins?" she reads. "Your name is Henry Higgins?" Henry clearly hasn't heard that joke enough, but he lets Karen have that one, because it's the first time he's seen her laugh. Henry Higgins, by the way, is the character in Pygmalion (or My Fair Lady, starring Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison) who takes a "common" street vendor and turns her into a lady. Heavy-handed? Why, yes, and the palm print is still on my back.
InnerKaren explains that trying to figure out why things happen the way they do is an exercise in futility. "It all seems so random," she muses. "And you can't always know why." Henry wheels Karen out into the hallway. InnerKaren shares that she's realized her children still need her, and badly; here, we see black-and-white Eli laughing and smiling, two glamour shots of Shane West, who, frankly, could disappear for a year and I'd be completely content. Then Jessie and Karen are shown giggling and hugging, as Karen kisses her child's cheek. "I am not lost to them," avers InnerKaren. "I am not lost...to me." InnerKaren stares right down the barrel of the camera lens and nods her head slightly. In the hospital, Karen stands up shakily, with Henry's help, and grips the walker. As she grins her relief, she spies Eli and Jessie at the end of the hallway, and they stop and watch in amazement. At first a flicker of self-doubt crosses Karen's face, but her new resolve takes hold and her face registers that sudden confidence. Looking utterly determined, Karen takes one tiny step forward and exhales in delight. Jessie bursts into a smile, and Eli's face registers awe and pride. Karen stares resolutely at them and nods her head, as if to say, "I'll get there."