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In what is perhaps the most horrifying opening scene of TV since... last week's American Idol, Adam goes toe to toe with a possum. He takes the intrusions of this creature personally, though possums are the least of his problems. His daughter admits that she purchased pot and Max is diagnosed as having Aspergers. He and Kristina gird up their loins and decide to have hope for Max's future.
Crosby is handling the revelation that he has a five-year-old child with the maturity of a four-year-old child. He hangs out with Jabar and makes very little effort to get to know him. He'll supposedly have more opportunities, though, since Jasmine and Jabar have moved back to town.
Sarah successfully lands a job at an awesome design firm, and then has it unfairly ripped away. The good news is, she's able to translate her own misfortune into understanding for Amber, especially after she finds out that Amber was telling the truth about the police incident from last week. When Amber's school wants to hold her back a grade because of her bad transcripts, Sarah goes to bat for her.
Julia must face her insecurities when some skinny tramp from Sydney's school starts macking on her man. She embarrasses herself pretty thoroughly by publicly casting aspersions on the tramp's stay-at-home-mom status.
In short, it's been a rough day for the Bravermans. So, who can blame them when they light up Haddie's weed in the elementary school parking lot?
Want more? The full recap starts right below! Adam is disturbed by late-night bumping. Not the good kind -- the kind that indicates a rodent is making a targeted strike on your property and sanity. In his underwear, he creeps through the darkness of his yard, up a ladder and shines a light in the attic crawlspace where he is confronted by a hissing possum. He screams, I scream, he leaps off the ladder and flails in the bushes with a tennis racket. As a homeowner doing frequent battles with squirrels of all sizes, I salute him.Later in the morning, Crosby faces off against a much cuter little critter. He has taken his newly-revealed son, Jabar, out for pancakes. "So, your mom said you wanted to know about your old man," Crosby says to the biggest pair of brown eyes in the world. This child has Crosby's number. No amount of jokes from Crosby can win a smile. "Let's start with you," Crosby says. "You married?" Jabar, who is five, reports that no, he is not married. Crosby says that if the kid is having troubs meeting the ladies, it could be because of his car. "What kind of car do you drive?" Jabar remains silent. "Well, you have your license, right?" Crosby asks. Jabar: "...license?" Crosby sighs. These, he says, are his only kid jokes. "I'm out of material." Now, I like teasing a child as much as the guy, but come on. This is supposedly your son. Throw in a Batman question or two. Maybe something about kindergarten and farting dogs. Crosby sees Jasmine out the window and gives her an inauthentic thumbs-up. "This is fun, though," he says with no trace of fun to Jabar. "So, you like pancakes?" Finally, a good question! Except unfortunately, he asked it too late. Because despite the presence of whipped cream AND sprinkles, Jabar likes waffles better. I'm with you, Jabar.
At elementary school drop-off, Julia is trying to have one experience with her daughter that could not be handled better by her husband. She's already being impatient and snappy when she is cut off in the carpool line by another mother, who whips in, unloads her daughter and takes her sweet, rude time getting all the kid's accoutrements for class. "No, that's okay!" Julia yells (to herself). "Take all the time you want! I only have a meeting with a Supreme Court judge!" This might have been the day to let Daddy do the drop off, then. Finally, after dropping the F-bomb ("Fudge, honey! I said 'fudge!'") in front of Sydney, she gives the interloper a fairly polite honk to hurry her up, only to be met with a dismissive "one second" finger. Julia returns the gesture with... a different finger.
Sarah's doing a school drop-off, too, with Amber and Drew. It's going even worse. The little trio stands nervously on the sidewalk while Sarah tries her damndest to give them a pep talk. "This is so great," she says. "It's gonna be all brand new and different and..." Amber: "What are you doing?" Sarah: "It was something I was trying. No?" The teenagers shake their heads and walk towards the school. Sarah gives it one more shot. "You can be the best," she calls to their embarrassed backs. "I believe in you! Just... be... you!" Heeee. It's a very sweet try, but even she recognizes the lameness.
Max is also on his way to school. Again, he's wearing the pirate costume. "We had a deal," his father says, following him at a run to the car. "The pirate costume at home, but we wear regular clothes to school." Max jumps in the car and flatly states that well, he changed his mind. "Mom said!" he adds, causing Adam's high-strung pitch to go up one more notch. "He can't keep going to school like that! Kids are gonna think he's a freak," he says. "How's he gonna make any friends? I knew kids like that when I was in school -- once you're a freak, you're always a freak." This storyline upsets me so much, I don't even have words. I don't want it to be, but I have to admit it's almost too accurate. I simultaneously wish I could stab and hug Adam. Kristina obvs feels the same -- she knows, she says, how he feels. "I deal with this every day," she says, listing all the bribery attempts she has made over the pirate costume, including food bribes, presents and, scarily, buying the bugs with which Max is obsessed. Adam apologizes. "I just want to get him out of that thing," he says, and is about to leave when Kristina reminds him that they have an evening scheduled that night with the Lessings. You may recall the Lessings from last week's freak-out when Adam namedropped them in reference to autism referencing "the Lessing's kid, with the hand-flapping." That was one of the moments when I wanted to stab. He says fine, they'll go see the Lessings and talk about Asperger's with them, but he hopes they don't have to have dinner. "Remember that time we went over there and they'd made dinner?" he asks, beginning to spiral. "They didn't pre-heat the oven until we'd been over there like three-and-a-half hours! It was unconscionable! I felt like I was being held captive!" Kristina nods and talks him down, telling him to say goodbye to Max, which he does. With a kiss, he says goodbye to her as well, adding that hey, they don't even know for sure that Max even has Asperger's. Kristina says she knows that. "He's not the Lessing kid," Adam adds, hand-flapping for emphasis. STAB. Kristina looks sad.
Back at the pancake joint, Crosby is chatting with Jasmine as Jabar plays innocently with an airplane, probably silently fantasizing how he can fly away and not have to accept this douche as his dad. "It's been a while, Crosby," Jasmine says, and Crosby, douche or not, is right to point out that yeah, it's been five years and nine months a-while. He "casually" wonders aloud how Jasmine is so sure Jabar is his child. She takes it in stride, though I know she wants to stab. Y'all, I can recognize the need for stabbing in a woman's eyes at 50 paces. Anyway, she says, she's sure. "Really?" he says. "You didn't... have relations... with any other guys?" Classy. Fighting the urge, she says no, Jabar is Crosby's. The poor woman. I don't know why, when realizing she was pregnant, she did not move three continents away from Crosby and change her name and appearance just to be on the safe side, but for whatever reason she really wants her son to develop a relationship with his father. Which should be much easier now, because -- news flash -- she and Jabar have just moved back to town. Crosby is surprised, an emotion that registers on his face exactly like all the other emotions, with a raise of his slacker eyebrows and an expression like he's just detected a vaguely unsavory odor. Lord knows Jasmine has handled this in the wrongest way possible, but she does remind Crosby that she called him many times over the years, to no avail. He has no response to this. Jasmine suggests that maybe he would like to get together with Jabar over the weekend. "You mean the weekend, the one coming up this weekend?" Crosby stutters. "That sounds really good but, uh, I'm actually going out of town this weekend." Jasmine reacts like it's a rejection, but frankly, you came out of nowhere, lady, and though he's a jackass, he has plans. Plus, you have just moved back, so presumably there will be other weekends? But, no, we can feel the guilt hanging there as we cut to...
Zeek and Camille's house where Sarah is sitting at the family computer searching for a job while Zeek looks judgmentally over her shoulder, making noises of paternal disappointment which, speaking of stabbing, will cut any daughter like a knife. He tsks about her selections. "You didn't move all the way back to Berkeley to serve up a bunch of whiskey sours to alcoholics," he says. "You should be on the other side of that equation!" Sarah: "Okay... I should be an alcoholic?" Zeek says no, she should be an executive. Um, how does being an executive feature in that equation at all? Ha! If x equals Jim Beam and the cosign of y is greater than the juice of two lemons, how many executives does it take to make sense of this math? Also, I love whiskey sours. There, I said it. I have not had one in years, but trust that every time I sit down to write a recap, I am sour and thinking of whiskey.
From the kitchen, Camille futilely tells Zeek to leave Sarah alone. "She loves bartending!" she says. "Right, sweetie?" Sarah sasses that, "yes, Mother, it completes me." Camille sighs and says nevermind, then. "You raised two kids on it," she points out. "It's a good living." Not good enough for Dad, apparently. "You should be in advertising and PR," he says as if one can just BE in it. "I mean, come on, you did all the design for your ex-husband's band. If he hadn't thrown his career in the toilet..." Sarah rolls her eyes and Camille tries again to "help" her. "Zeek, leave her alone," she says. "Sarah knows her limits." Haa! Such a mom comment. A momment, if you will. Whoa -- did I just coin that phrase? How could that be? (Aw, hell. I didn't.) Sarah asks what that's supposed to mean. "Uh, just that, uh," poor Camille stutters, "you know... yourself?" Sarah sighs. "Let me tell the two of you something," she says, opening what appears to be a beer (bartending ability!) and probably wishing it was vodka, "it's not too late to learn some parenting skills. I mean, you could take a class or read a book...?" Camille laughs, but Zeek isn't listening. He's found a job ad on craigslist that is "perfect" for her. Assistant to creative executive at Pantheon Design. "'Someone who understands the ad industry; self-starter,'" he reads. "That has got Sarah Braverman written all over it." Sarah says she's pretty sure they're not looking for a 38-year-old single mom who's been a bartender for 10 years." You are quite right, there, Sarah. I mean, not that I'm bitterly chuckling about this whole thing as someone who actually works in advertising and PR, has never been a bartender, and has now been out of a job for a YEAR. (I did finally land an interview Friday, though, and if I get that job, you'll hear the screams wherever you are. Oh, you're reading this in Sweden? YOU WILL HEAR ME.)
At the high school, Amber has just sat down in her first class and is being macked on by an absolute CLONE of Jake Ryan in 16 Candles, when of course the principal walks in and invites her into the hallway. Setting aside how unlikely it is for this to happen this way, the gist is that Amber's transcripts show that she does not have enough credits from Fresno to enter this new school as a junior and they want her to repeat her sophomore year. UGH. She is obviously and justifiably upset. "You're holding me back?" she asks. "I'm sorry, there's no way. I can't be older than everybody else!" She begs him to please give her a chance, but he says that there's really no choice in the matter.
Meanwhile, Adam is in his office consulting the Internet for a "cure" for Asperger's. That just broke my heart, right there. Sometimes life really sucks. I don't know how else to say it -- being confronted with your OWN illness that you never imagined you'd have to deal with is one thing, but for your child? Awful.
He's interrupted in his quest by a visit from his father. It appears the family business is a shoe design company? Or Adam just works for one? They don't bother to explain, though Adam does say that the company is expanding. Zeek gets right to the point, LOUDLY reminding Adam of Sarah's long-ago-utilized talent in poster design for her husband's band. Adam is on guard. (Again, a weirdly cut scene between these two actors. This time it's Craig T. Nelson that seems a little off.) Zeek tells him how he and Sarah saw this ad for Pantheon on chuckslist. Hee. "Craigslist," Adam tells him, growing more flabbergasted by his pushy dad. Anyway, Zeek remembered that Pantheon once did some work for Adam's company. "The fella's name is Edwin Chung. Know him?" Adam says no. "I reckon he's a Chinese fella." Nice. Zeek wants Adam to call his bff Edwin on Sarah's behalf. "Dad, Pantheon is a huge house," Adam says, "people are dying to work there. Sarah's been working in a bar the last 15 years." Zeek doesn't care about any of this. "Come on, Adam, she's your sister. Just call," he says. "What's the problem?" You know, he has a point. Adam says fine, he'll call the guy. Zeek, having strong-armed his way once again, asks what the plan is now for Max. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know," Adam says, frazzled. "Look, Sonny," Zeek says, cuffing his shoulders, "you gotta have a plan, kid!" Adam sighs. "Yeah," he says, and they go off to the warehouse to get Zeek some shoes. If this IS a family biz, why can't Adam just hire Sarah?
Julia arrives home in a rush, yelling from the doorway for Joel to pre-heat the oven so they can make the cookies for a fundraiser that evening. In her hand she wields a tube of cookie dough, but as she makes her way to the kitchen, it becomes apparent that cookies are already being served up. Literally. By that annoying woman from the morning's carpool line! Julia is confused. "Hellooo?" she asks, wondering what this beyatch is doing in her kitchen. Joel enters with another pan of cookies to explain all. This is Raquel, he says, who is co-chairing the school fundraiser with him. All of this is news to Julia, who tries to politely process it while Raquel rambles on about how badly the school needs money to fund its various art programs. "Wow," is all Julia can manage to say. Raquel spies the cookie dough she has brought home to make and, her own homemade cookies cooling on the counter, pinches up her face and tells Julia "oh, the preservatives in those things are terrible." Julia is embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, uh, normally I'd bake them from scratch," she says, trashing the tube, and somehow not murdering her husband when he sarcastically adds that yeah, they do a ton of baking. Ugh.
"We had the most amazing time making cookies, didn't we girls?" Raquel calls to Sydney and her own daughter who are playing in the living room. The girls enthusiastically agree, and Sydney adds a casual "hi" to her mom at the end, just having noticed her. "Oh, hey," Raquel continues, "Joelskis tells me you're a lawyer!" Julia smiles a smile of hatred. "Joelskis is correct, yeah, I am," she says. Raquel says that's great, and launches into a story about a dad at the school who is a lawyer and sold 20 books of raffle tickets in one afternoon. She runs to her purse to get some for Julia. "I'm going to say hi to my daughter first," Julia says, trying to extricate herself. "OH, you know what? We're going!" Raquel says, as if she has just realized her intrusions. She calls to her daughter. "Harmony! Come on, we're going to let Sydney see her mommy -- she hardly ever gets to see her!" OH, NO. She did NOT. Except, wait, she did. "Don't forget your worry beads, sweetheart!" she adds, and explains to Julia that they are Buddhists. I guess here is where I mention that Raquel is white and her daughter is Asian. Julia is impressed with none of it and has the pinch-lipped expression of every wife who has ever watched some chick buzz around her husband. I mean, every wife but me -- I love it when this happens because my husband gets so flustered and ridiculous and it is hilarious. Recently we were trying to get a six-month portrait taken of our daughter at one of
those cheapie strip mall places? I should have known better, but whatever. Anyway, the photographer, a woman our own age, was saying all this awesome stuff like, "It's easy to smile at DADDY, isn't it? I'd smile, too, if I was in DADDY'S ARMS! You're so lucky to have a big, strong DADDY." No, seriously, I was dying. I had to step away to keep from laughing and left my poor husband standing there with the baby, who did not smile even once, daddy's arms or no. In fact, the look on her face was much like Julia's in this scene -- one of sour derision. On her way out, Raquel makes sure to hug AND kiss "Joelskis" and tell him he's amazing. "Oh," he answers. "All righty." She also says something in Chinese to Sydney, who answers her, causing Raquel to gasp. "I just said 'I love you' to her in Mandarin," she trills. "And she said 'I love you, too.'" Julia is obviously thrilled.
"Your life is about to change forever," Mrs. Lessing is telling Adam and Kristina as they sit uncomfortably in the toy-filled Lessing living room. Kristina clutches a pillow, presumably for comfort as the Lessings talk about how much coordination it takes to parent a child with Asperger's, but actually it's probably that she's in fear for her personal safety as Noel, the famous Lessing kid, flings himself hyperactively around the room, growling and screaming and generally destroying everything. I truly loathe this scene and can only imagine the rage it has probably caused around the Internet among parents with Asperger's children. Where I think the show has done so well telling the story from Adam and Kristina's side so far, and a beautiful job with Max, this part bothered me. The Lessings are like a firehose of information, blasting them with stuff about gluten-free diets (which I am on, by the way, for non-Asperger's reasons) and casein and physical therapists... and they get on my damn nerves. They have a card file that includes scheduling for every part of their life, including their sex life. "Hey, isn't it Tuuuueesdaaay?" Mr. Lessing asks, and I pause the TV and wonder, "isn't it 2010 and didn't that joke go out in 1979?" Ugh, anyway, maybe I have Asperger's because I can't deal with the overstimulation of this scene -- their son is raging all over the house like a grizzly bear and I literally can't hear the dialogue. What's noteworthy here is that Adam and Kristina learn about Dr. Pelikan, a great behavioral specialist for children with autism. But forget about Pelikan, Mrs. L says. "He's an elusive ass. Nobody gets to see Pelikan!" she says. "He's like the Bob Dylan of autism!" Haaa! Very clever, although some people think that Bob Dylan is the Bob Dylan of autism. No joke. While Kristina holds her ears to ward off Noel's 11-level electric guitar in the room, Adam emails all his contacts to ask if anyone has an "in" with Pelikan. Worth a shot, he says. They are preparing to leave this madhouse when the Lessings insist on them staying for dinner. "We made dinner," Mrs. L says. "Well, we didn't make it, we have to pre-heat the oven!" Lord. Why Adam and Kristina who have been married for many years can't simply sell out their children and be like, "oh, we have to pick up Haddie at a thing" or "Max needs us to be home," or... anything, I don't know, but they don't manage it before the Lessings welcome them to "the family" and demand -- screaming over their loud child -- that they stay.
I must briefly discuss two of the commercials in this break. I hate doing this, but I have to. First of all, I was looking so forward to this Matt Damon movie Green Zone in which I presumed he'd be kicking ass and taking names, hot-CIA agent-style? Not so, according to this perfectly-stated and succinct review from Pamie. Girl just saved me $10. Secondly, I love seeing celebrities hanging out and shooting the breeze as much as the guy, but doesn't The Marriage Ref seem like a parody of itself? It's the guests, mostly: Larry David and Madonna, together at last? Thanks?
Sarah is shopping for an interview dress, emailing phone pictures of her selections to Julia, the busiest lawyer in California. The first, a busy print on black that is pure Lorelai Gilmore, does not go over well. "It's a little..." Julia says. Sarah says she thought she was doing "hot corporate," but her sister says no. What she needs to do is go in to the interview and say "I'm the only one who can do this job." Sarah rightly tells her that that's not true, since just about anybody could do the job better than she could, since she's probably not even qualified. "That's probably not the best attitude," Julia says. "You need to spin a little." Sarah sighs. "I can't spin," she groans. "I've lost my spin." Julia: "May I spin?" Sarah: "Please." Julia says Sarah's a great artist who has been unavailable for a while, doing other things. Sarah: "Checking my ex-husband into rehab." But Julia is still spinning. "Now that you're back the East Bay," she says, "and you're ready to pick up where you left off." Sarah: "To move in with my parents at an inappropriate age." Heee. Julia says she's not helping, but Sarah laughs -- the thing is, she can't really let herself imagine that she'll get the job. "They called you, didn't they?" Julia asks. Sarah says yeah, that's the amazing part. "I just sent my work," she says, "and they called." Y'all, can we talk about being unemployed for a second? It has its charms, but actually, it sucks. Unless, I suppose, you are married to someone with a nice job? Have I mentioned my husband is a PhD student? Yes, if you've been reading my recaps for years, STILL. Anyway. Julia says yes, they called because they can see Sarah's talent in her work. "That's step one," she says as Sarah snaps a picture of another dress and sends it to her. "Step two is: you look this guy in the eye and you tell him, 'I am going to blow your freakin' mind.'" WHY did I not think of that Friday at my interview? Sarah says it sounds good when Julia says it, and asks if she got the photo she just sent. "I think," Julia says, trying to wave away the purple monstrosity, "we're in the wrong store."
In his lair, Crosby is being treated to a lingerie show by his girlfriend, Katie. "What do you think?" she asks, ripping back a curtain and revealing a very sexy ensemble, indeed. He is speechless for a moment, but finally says that, in fact, he is not sure this weekend trip they have planned is going to work out. Apparently all this underwear is stuff she bought for the trip, which... why is she showing him, then? Wither the element of surprise? It's like serving dessert first. Anyway, she's the one who's surprised, now, by his news that their plans have been waylaid. "What could have come up?" she asks, angry. He hems and haws, and she flips. "If you're back with that bimbo waitress, Brandy," she starts, but he holds up his hands for peace. "I'm not back with anyone," he says. Apparently he is feeling guilty about blowing off Jabar, even though he really isn't doing that because he did already have plans, but whatever. Instead of telling his pseudo-fiancé anything about Jabar, at all, he says he needs to stick close to home this weekend to "be there" for Adam and Kristina as they deal with Max's possible Asperger's. Ridiculous. Somehow, though, possibly because she is not wearing any clothes and thus is emotionally vulnerable, Katie buys this. "It's amazing to hear you talk like that," she says, tearing up. "You're gonna be an amazing father one day." What's amazing here is how stupid she is. As she cleaves him to her bosom, he considers what he'll be missing and says, you know, this whole thing with Max is not set in stone, or anything, so maybe they should keep the option open.
Speaking of Max, he's doing his thing at the dinner table, fixating on bugs and continually sharing facts about them, up to and including having a HUGE live cockroach in a box on the table, not picking up that everyone is
grossed out. "A cockroach can live a month without its head," he says in response to Haddie's gagging and Adam's stern but calm insistence that he put the bug away. The roach's name is Charlie, by the way. What follows is a classic parent/child showdown about food. Max doesn't want to eat any ("it's not one of his foods," Haddie mentions) and Adam wants him to. Kristina and Adam fight over whether or not he'll earn TV time for eating or have it taken away and, generally, the family stress level ratchets up with every second. "Maybe you guys could give him extra TV time," Haddie suggests out of frustration, and they fumblingly agree that he'll earn five extra minutes per bite. So, like any smart kid, he eats exactly 12 bites, earns himself an hour and strolls, Charlie in hand. "Wait, Max," Adam says, "you have to stay at the table until we finish our meal." Max: "Why? I already earned my TV time." With that, he is gone, and Adam looks ready to put a fork through his eye. "That worked out well," Haddie says. Adam: "Shut up, sweetie."
That night, Adam and Kristina lie awake in bed discussing the mysterious Dr. Pelikan. Adam has emailed everyone he knows, he says, and nobody has any connection to him. "It's like trying to meet the Pope," he says. Yeah, well, don't bother trying that, either. They are interrupted by a bump in the night. The possum is back. "Arrogant son of a bitch!" Adam screams and leaps out of bed. In the backyard, flashlight and tennis racket in hand, he follows the animal through the bushes where he makes a non-possum discovery. A bag of the sticky stuff.
Dropping the bag of pot down on the counter in front of their teenage daughter the day, Adam and Kristina display a united front of suspicion. Haddie is SHOCKED and APPALLED that they would think it was hers. "If you are lying to me right now," her mom says nervously, "you are digging yourself a very, very, very deep hole." Adam: "It would be the worst thing you could do." Haddie sighs. "You guys? This is not mine," she says. "But it feels good that you trust your daughter." They believe her, totally. "Sorry," Adam says. Let me explain what would happen if my mom had found weed anywhere near my person at age 16, 26 or 36. Instant death, no questions asked. Now, my husband? His mom found some in his sock drawer, he claimed he was "holding it for someone else," and SHE BELIEVED HIM. This story was shared with me recently and I nearly choked myself unconscious -- should I or should I not have ratted my major-teenage-pothead husband out to his mom 25 years after the fact? I seriously sat there like, "sock drawer!... 16... holding... but...!" sputtering like I was hoping she would catch on and retroactively ground him. It did not happen, which just proves there is no justice in the world.
At the ad agency, which is ridiculously over-designed as they all are to try to make employees feel better about working in a sweatshop, Edwin Chung looks over Sarah's work. "Wow," he says, "you did these in 1990?" Sarah jokes that yeah, Edwin was probably in grade school back then. "Pre-school, actually," Edwin says. The blood drains from Sarah's face. "Wow," she says, "that's depressing." It really is. He asks what she's been doing then, in the intervening years. She nervously says that she's been focusing on family. "I have two kids," she says. Edwin: "Oh, that's wonderful." Sarah: "Not if you know 'em." Ha! When he looks up sharply, she says no, she's kidding. "They're great," she says, unconvincingly. "I love them." Edwin says that what he meant was that it was an honorable choice to choose family over career. Did they seriously just make the Asian guy say "honorable choice," busting out the biggest stereotype ever? Anyway, Sarah is barely listening, getting ready to do her big spin. "I just moved back to Berkeley," she says, "and this might sound lame, but I'm ready to make a fresh start. And, if you give me this chance... I know I can blow your freakin' mind." Immediately, she gags, and says sorry, her sister told her to say that. Edwin laughs and tells her to tell him about her work. He finds it very impressive, even calling it phenomenal. Tears come to her eyes. This is why Lauren Graham is the best. She can convey in a split second all the complexities of someone who has been down on their luck for so long finally catching a break. Because -- she IS catching one. Edwin asks if she's seen what they're offering as a starting salary and if that would be acceptable. "The money?" she asks, not caring about the money at all. "That would be fine!" He wants to make sure, also, that she would be okay reporting to him. "Because I'm so old?" she asks, laughing. Edwin: "No, I'm so young!" Sarah: "No, no! I'm so old! That's fine! I can take a note from a whippersnapper like you, no problem." She takes a moment and adds, with a huge smile: "I really want this job." Maybe that made me cry a little. I'm not saying.
Joel is in a park reading the newspaper at a picnic table when Julia arrives. Is it wrong of me to pause here and comment on the absolute hotness of Erika Christensen? Wow. Her dress is out of sight. She's come there to grab 20 minutes with Sydney -- presumably before Sydney goes home and to bed for the night before Julia goes back to work -- but Joel says Sydney's not there, yet. Mandarin class ran over and he came ahead to the park to reserve a table for the rest of the parents, so Sydney is riding there with Raquel and Harmony. Julia is less than pleased. "I moved three meetings and jockeyed through traffic to have 21 minutes with my daughter," she sighs, "and she's in a car with Raquel." Joel says he'll text Raquel to hurry. "No," Julia says, "she's an insane driver, don't text her." She is an insane driver, but Joel is picking up the jealousy vibe. "I know you think Raquel is intense," he says, "and she is, but she's a great mom... considering..." He doesn't finish, because Sydney arrives at this moment. "I have 18 minutes," Julia says, kissing Joel and heading for the playground. "I'm spending them with my daughter." Dude, we get that she's your daughter -- please stop saying "my daughter" in every sentence.
Adam has dropped by on his dad, who is chopping logs in his backyard. "So, you drove all the way from downtown just to ask me this?" he asks. Adam: "Can you just answer me?" Zeek: "No, it's not my pot. I haven't smoked that stuff in years." He wants to know what Adam was doing out in his yard in the middle of the night weed-whacking, anyway. "I got something in my house," Adam says. "It's a possum, raccoon, something." Adam pauses. "It's personal," he says when his dad suggests calling an exterminator. "I feel like he's... mocking me." Zeek says, well, it could be something else. Adam: "Like what? A weasel?" Hee. No, Zeek says, maybe it's something psychological manifesting itself in these noises. Adam is saved from this ridiculousness by Crosby, who emerges from inside, having come there to do his laundry or, more likely, pick up the laundry that his mom did for him. Over their mom's carrot cake, Adam asks if Crosby ditched the weed in his yard. "Are you crazy?" Crosby asks. Oh, and he adds, could Adam cover for him if Katie asks about this weekend, since he used Max's Asperger's as an excuse to get out of that trip, kthx. "I'm double booked!" Crosby says, explaining about Jabar. Adam is amazed that there would be any question deciding between a trip to a spa and bonding with a son that Crosby has only seen twice in his life. "If you'd seen the lingerie Katie bought for this trip," Crosby says, "you'd understand the dilemma." Adam: "Hey, jackass. You have a son. Man-up and take care of your responsibilities." Crosby asks if he's comfortable up there on his high horse. "My life is complicated, Adam," he says, and though Adam obviously contemplates killing him for that, it's good that he does not, because Crosby, of all people, has an in with Dr. Pelikan. Apparently, Katie's mom "did him" at
rget="_blank">Esalen back in the 70s. Hilarious. Adam barely has time to absorb this before Crosby mentions that, oh, yeah, the doc has a cancellation that afternoon. Adam can't get out of there fast enough.
At home, he and Kristina are wrestling with Max, trying to get him on board for this appointment. It is, in a word, a struggle. He is being belligerent and generally pirate-like and won't put on his shoes. "This guy's the Bob Dylan of Asperger's," Adam says, trying to convince Max to hurry up. "Bob Dylan," Max counters, "never had a number one record." Adam: "He's a genius." Max wants to know how come, if that's the case, Dylan never had a number one record when the Beatles, Michael Jackson and the Bee Gees all had multiple number ones. "Well, maybe try not to compare Bob Dylan to the Bee Gees," he says. "Come on." Um, hold up. Dylan is definitely a genius, yes. No question. He really is. But due respect to the Bee Gees, man. They deserve it, for far more than "Jive Talkin'," which frankly would be more than enough to earn respect from anyone! Anyway, things are about to hit a fever pitch when Haddie walks in, hands in pockets. "Hey," she says. Adam impatiently asks her what she wants. "Um, it was mine. The pot. It was mine," she says. "I couldn't sleep last night and I felt like I had to tell you, so..." She says a couple of her friends chipped in to buy it and she realized it was stupid and she's not going to do it again. "Okay?" she says, kind of shrugging. The camera cuts back to her seriously beleaguered parents who have so much to deal with with Max, and their faces say it all. Disappointment and sadness. Now that right there? The confession to something I wasn't even busted for? That was me. WHY was I such a nerd? Y'all, I can't explain it. I was so afraid of getting in trouble, I just pretty much... didn't do bad things! I mean, some, but not really. Is that sad? It is, kind of, isn't it? More importantly... how quickly can I instill this same fear in my own child? Hold on. I need to call my mom.
Speaking of moms, Sarah is all chipper outside the high school waiting to pick up Amber and Drew when she gets a call from Edwin Chung. "Do you have a second?" he asks and she gets all bubbly, saying yes, that it was really fun meeting him today. Crushingly, he says that he's so sorry, but it's not going to work out for him to hire her. His bosses won't let him bring in someone who does not have a college degree. That sucks ass. He says he wanted to call her personally to let her know how sorry he was. Poor Sarah. "Oh," Edwin adds, kind of overly chipper after he's just smashed her heart to bits. "My bosses wanted me to be sure to thank your brother," he says. Sarah is confused. "Do you know him?" she asks. Edwin: "That's why you were brought in. I thought you knew." Sarah says yeah, yeah, and that she'll definitely say hi to him. Amber and Drew walk up, now, and sullenly get in the car just as she is receiving this rejection. "How was school?" Sarah forces herself to ask, and Amber gives her the brush, telling her to just drive. This, naturally, causes Sarah to flip. "All you do is complain!" she yells, causing Drew to flip, and beg her not to do this in front of the school, but Sarah's still going, ending her rant with something about Amber getting Haddie arrested. This is the last straw for Amber, and SHE flips. "I didn't smoke pot," she says. "And I didn't give any to her, and I didn't encourage her to smoke it. But you don't believe me, ever! And you didn't listen!" She adds also, a big sarcastic thanks to Sarah for sending her to this crappy school that is going to hold her back a year. Sarah is stunned to hear this and tries to find out more from the hysterical Amber, but the girl has had enough and jumps out of the car saying she's going to take the bus.
Finally, Adam and Kristina have reached the inner sanctum of the enigmatic Dr. Pelikan. Max plays in the waiting room as the doc tells his parents what a nice, wonderful son they have. Kristina makes him cut to the chase, and he says that Max is very high-functioning, but he does find that his behaviors are consistent with an Asperger's diagnosis. Bless their hearts, Adam and Kristina are devastated. "Oh my God," Kristina whispers, but Adam goes straight into coach mode. "This is fine," he says. "We can work through this, and it's not an insurmountable problem. I think we should work through this stuff one by one. So, pirate costume." Dr. Pelikan kindly tells him that it's better to start with the more big picture issues, but Adam in his way, is freaking out. Finally, Kristina insists that they should let the doctor talk. The doctor explains that though Asperger's is not something that can be "cured," it's not a prison sentence. Poor Adam does not understand. Kristina asks what they're supposed to do for Max. "You will help to uncover Max's gifts," Dr. Pelikan says. "You figure out how he learns." He explains that the research shows that the greatest barometer of success for children with Asperger's is their parents' involvement. All the irritation I felt about the Lessings has evaporated with the excellent way this information is being presented, here. Good job, show. Adam is still on the edge of the flip, shaking his head like someone just bumped his car in a fender bender. "Just in case we can never see you again," he says, with just the perfect amount of snark, "what do you suggest we do about the pirate costume?" Dr. P explains: it's not about pulling Max out of his comfort zone, it's about joining him in it. "And," he says, "when he's ready, you walk him into the world." So sweetly put. Adam and Kristina lean on each other. All right, yes, I cried.
The school fundraiser is in full swing with all adult Bravermans in attendance. On stage, Raquel is finishing up her co-chair speech, turning the evening over to Joel who will be the auctioneer. He's wearing a black jacket with a black shirt and a black tie, and despite this, he's hot. Raquel thinks so, too. "Does he clean up well, or what?" she asks the crowd, instantly getting Julia's back up. As Raquel goes on and on about Joel's amaaaazingness, Kristina's eyes narrow. "Who is this tramp?" she asks Julia. "Are they, like, screwing?" Sarah adds. "NO, what?" Julia asks, while Joel meanwhile loads praises on Raquel for all of her hard work. Julia responds to this with full-on bitch face and seriously, I cannot blame her. All this chit-chat is too much for Zeek, who impatiently yells out for Joel to get on with it before the platform (that Joel built) collapses. "That's my father-in-law," Joel tells the audience. "And I am not kidding." The auction begins with a doozy of an item -- a premium parking spot at the school for an entire year. "That's mine!" Julia tells her family, and when the bidding opens at $300, she happily raises her hand. The bids start flying pretty big, but Julia is glad to keep bidding. It's for charity after all, and finally she is rewarded when it appears she is about to win it for $650. An usher walks by and hands her a microphone, but just as Joel is about to call her the winner, Raquel jumps to her feet and ups the bid. Now, is she doing this out of competition, or because she wants to raise more money? You decide. Julia has decided it's the former, and her bulldog lawyerly streak kicks in hard. Her whole family gives her nervous glances as she stands up to continue bidding to the death. Raquel keeps upping it. Finally, Zeek turns to Julia asking what the hell is wrong with Raquel, as in how can she afford to keep doing this? "I know," Julia says in what she THINKS is an aside but is actually being spoken directly into a live microphone, "she doesn't even work." Zzzzrrrrt! The needle comes off the record. The crowd goes dead silent as Julia mumbles some stuff about how wait, not working is such a valid, wonderful choice and how she took an extra month of maternity leave and everything. Finally, Joel saves her, calling the bid going once and twice for $1,500 for Raquel. But, Julia's not going down like that. "Let's make it $1,920 in honor of the year women won the right to vote!" she says, raising her fist. "Solidarity." Wow. Feminism is dead.
In the parking lot, the sibs and Kristina are standing around when Julia walks up with the big, framed parking pass she just bought with humiliation dollars. Sarah is harassing Adam for the call he put in about the job which, by the way, she did not get, she tells them. Adam apologizes. "Dad thought it would be a good idea," he says, which makes her even more angry. Julia jumps in to diffuse the situation, asking how the meeting went with Max. Aw. Kristina quietly says that Adam can tell them. "It's official," he says. "Max has Asperger's." Crosby, Julia and Sarah all put their hands on Adam's chest to comfort him, before realizing how silly it looks. "What am I doing? I'm straightening your tie?" Sarah says. Adam laughs, but tells them that, just to make life suckier, they caught their perfect daughter with pot. To illustrate the point, he pulls the bag of weed out of his jacket. Julia says that, as his lawyer, she would have advised him not to bring that to the elementary school. "He was hunting a possum," Kristina says, by way of explanation, "while wearing a blazer and his underwear." Hee. "So," Sarah says, catching on to the bigger point, "it was Haddie's? Amber didn't lie? Amber... told the truth!" Adam says he's glad she thinks Haddie's drugs are such good news. "Amber told the truth!" she repeats. Adam repeats that yeah, but Haddie's smoking pot. "Well, Amber told me the truth," Sarah says again. "That's happened like, one other time." Meanwhile, Crosby is rolling a joint. "I'm just trying to figure out what kind of mischief my niece is getting up to," he explains. "It smells like Mexican mischief, but it may be Humboldt mischief." Julia tells him that if he gets caught and gets her kicked out of this school, she will take his skinny ass down. "Well, if you get booted," he says, exhaling, "then maybe that ho won't try to
.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=raw%20dog%20and%20bail" target="_blank">raw dog your husband." Awesome. They all insist that Joel would never raw dog, or whatever, as each of them take a toke on Haddie's weed while Adam lectures them on the illegality. Forget the cops, though, because here comes Camille. Everybody tries to act straight, but of course, they are stupid. "You guys are smokin' dope in the school parking lot," Camille says, laughing. "I was not smoking dope," Adam says, truthfully. Crosby: "Mom, Adam's a chimney, and we need to get him to a facility." Everybody falls out laughing, letting off steam as the brothers break out into some rough-housing. Obviously, they needed it. I mean, I don't condone the drug use (in case my mom is reading), but whatever.
The morning, Adam and Kristina watch Max through the window as he plays in the front yard. "I should have seen it," Adam says. This is going to be good, Kristina says. "If we can blame everything on you, it's going to make everything better." Adam is just worried. "I can deal with anything," he says. "I can deal with disease... with a broken bone. Give me something I can fix, but I don't know how to deal with this. I mean, this is for life!" Kristina sighs. "Come on, just stop it," she says. "You only heard the bad part. You didn't hear everything else that the doctor said." She says Max is smart and beautiful, and that there is so much potential and hope. "So what now?" he asks. Kristina: "We start to work."
Sarah drops the very angry Amber off at school and has an idea. Moments later she is in Principal Gomez's office being told the same thing Amber was told. Her transcripts just do not justify her being in the 11th grade. "I know," Sarah says, quietly. "Her grades in Fresno totally sucked." The thing about Amber, though, she says -- the hidden secret about Amber -- is that she's really smart. "She just hasn't gotten a break," she says. "And that's my fault." She says the whole reason she brought her family back to Berkeley is for her to have a chance. "I know the last thing you want is another parent in here asking for special treatment for their kid," she says. "But I'm just afraid... if the first thing that happens to her, here, is that she gets left back, that she's just going to shut down." She says she believes in Amber, "and I guess I'm asking for you to believe in her, too." And, see, I'm sort of crying about that, and then Paul Simon starts singing? Right. And then we see Crosby picking up Jabar and Jasmine smiling and Crosby patting the kid on the head? Tears. But then I manage to laugh when we see Julia pull up to drop off Sydney at school and receive death stares from Raquel and all her mom friends. So, I think I am going to live, until we cut to Principal Gomez showing up in Amber's new class, this time to obviously give her the news that she is NOT held back. Sweet, I think, but y'all, the montage is not over. No. Because right when Paul Simon sings "little boy, little boy," a bandana-clad pirate jumps up in the bushes, but this time he's not alone. There's another pirate, fully bedecked in costume including a mustache. It's Adam, and as Kristina watches with tears in her eyes from the doorway, he wields his tennis racket with his son on the high seas.
Al Lowe is a writer/musician living in Atlanta. She can be contacted at deepsubject@gmail.com.