Previously on Six Feet Under: The Chenowiths renewed their vows as heavily disdainful Brenda rolled her eyes and a heavily medicated Billy swooned from sentimentality; Rico's weekends now include cleaning out dead people's houses; David and Keith are having marital difficulties and need to make friends; Claire deflowered Russell; Ruth became infatuated with Arthur and his linens; Nate fantasized that Brenda stalked him, kissed him, then killed herself; Nate told Lisa he went for a drink with Brenda; Lisa correctly called Nate on his not wanting to actually be married to her (and can you blame him?); Nate tried talking dirty to Lisa, inspiring a nationwide vow of chastity from unsuspecting HBO viewers.
Are we all caught up now? Good.
The episode finally begins, and the first thing we see is Brenda with her head in her hands. After briefly running down the possibilities -- and there are so many, knowing Brenda and her family as we do -- and playing with the idea of Brenda as the DGDJ, I settle back to watch Brenda, who's just fidgeting and watching something else. The camera swoops so we see a left hand sporting both a wedding ring and a medical monitor, and two medical personnel doing non-hectic things out in the hall. A piano begins tinkling, and then the camera switches to Zhora, who's looking considerably the worse for wear, fidgeting a lot like Brenda as she looks down at the bed. She leans forward to take the hand and press it against her face as we see Bernie -- eyes closed, oxygen tube snaking under his nose -- breathing slowly and shallowly. The camera switches angles yet again until the screen is filled with: Bern up close, silhouetted so we can watch his chest rise and fall; Zhora, who looks beyond grief; and in the background, watching them as she sits huddled by the window, Brenda. Bern draws his last breath, and the camera switches to the foot of his bed, where Billy abruptly turns around. He sits there, staring off into space.
Brenda, meanwhile, is fiddling with a floral arrangement and reading a card. She puts it down to stare at Bern for a moment before looking away. Within seconds, Billy mimics her actions.
Bernard Asa Chenowith, 1939-2003, your services are no longer needed on this show. Thank you for giving the three remaining Chenowiths a new reason to go loopy on other people.
When the camera fades back up again, Nate is rocking Maya, pressing her head tightly against his chest so she doesn't get a good look at her genetic source material and develop pre-toddler depression. Lisa is nattering about how the pediatrician's number is by the phone, the teething biscuits are on the counter, and she's left seven bottles' worth of breast milk in assorted places. All that fenugreek must be paying off. Nate comments that Lisa should be proud, and she tells him, "I kind of am. I'm sore, but I'm proud. Are you totally sure you guys are going to be okay?" Nate assures her that he's not going to do something stupid -- hell, he really can't, since Lisa's effectively stripped all the fun, dangerous stuff from his life -- and tells her, "Have fun. Go to your cooking...zoo." Way to share your wife's interests, Nate. Lisa corrects him, but it bounces right off him. Nate tells Lisa to go have a good time with Dana because "you've earned it," and Lisa's off.
False start! She stops at the door and moans, "I feel guilty leaving her with you all day." She shouldn't. Nate clearly doesn't suffer from the same emotional burden. Nate urges her out the door, but Lisa just stands there for a moment, looking at the two other people in the room. Nate asks sullenly, "What?" and Lisa says, "You never really thought you'd have a wife and a kid, did you?" Nate ducks the question with, "I never thought I'd be a funeral director either." This is probably not the reassurance Lisa was seeking; you'd think that even Nate, who is not the Fisher family brain trust, would have picked up on her voracious need for affirmation by this point in their time together. Fortunately, Maya has a well-timed gurgle, and Lisa heads out the door by telling Nate she loves him. He's all, "And we love you."
Oh, Nate. If you keep lying like that, you'll stunt the baby's growth. If that's not an old wives' tale, let's make it one now. I'm thirty, I'm married -- that should qualify me for spreading these sorts of crackpot domestic theories, yes?
After Lisa leaves, Nate has a meeting of the minds with Maya, brainstorming their day: "We could fill some things up, dump 'em out. Maybe later we can poop. Whaddya say?" I say that postpartum depression and/or psychosis is a lot more understandable if this is what stay-at-home moms have to look forward to during the day. Maya's keeping her plans a secret.
Meanwhile, Ruth is attending a bargain-basement rave, if by "bargain basement" you mean "Arthur's room" and by "rave" you mean "fractal art set to really tedious MIDIs." She's exclaiming over Arthur's musical talents -- yes, we're witnessing Arthur's magnum opus -- and Arthur tells her he didn't exactly write it himself. Ruth coos, "You are so multifaceted!" Arthur's all self-deprecating with, "It's just a theme by Debussy, but I've developed it somewhat, put a drum beat underneath it just for fun. It's nothing much." Ruth is unconvinced. There's a few more rounds of unctuous flattery on Ruth's part and embarrassed ducking on Arthur's, and then she asks, "Where's the button to make it play again? I love that little tune -- it's so haunting." Arthur tells Ruth he needs to get going, and she blurts out, "So soon?" Oh, Ruth. Get another job. Get a hobby. Get a dye job like Anne Bancroft's in The Graduate so you at least pull off the seduction-of-a-younger-man thing with some panache.
Anyway, Arthur tells her he's going for a run, and Ruth practically sings, "I didn't know you ran, Arthur!" Arthur tells her, in a manner not unlike a ninth-grader struggling to deliver Willy Loman's lines in a class reading of Death of a Salesman, "Well. I haven't, actually. But I thought I ought to give it a try. I seemed to have gained some weight lately." Ruth protests that Arthur looks fine, then mows over his cue that she should leave by babbling, "People and their weight nowadays -- it's such a strange fascination! I see you all the time around the house and you just look fine -- just fine!" There's the barest awkward pause before Arthur says thanks. Ruth realizes she should leave, but as she turns to go, she pivots back around again and worms Arthur's running trail out of him: he'll be going to Pan Pacific park. After Ruth finally leaves (she goes out on, "Thank you for sharing your music with me, Arthur. It's very rhythmic"), Arthur's able to get a moment's privacy so he can contemplate the spill of his love handles over his tighty-whiteys as his composition plays in the background. I half expect Ruth to charge back through the door and carry on the Fisher women's tradition of deflowering men under that roof, but -- thank God -- no such thing happens.
Instead, we get Nate reading the paper in the Fisher kitchen and saying, "Fuck." Maybe Nate finally tore his eyes away from the funnies and checked out the news the rest of us were getting. Or maybe that's just his reaction to reading about the death of the man who would have been his father-in-law. Within moments, he's calling Lisa at her food zoo and telling her that Brenda's father died and "I was wondering if it'd be okay with you if I went to" -- Claire interrupts, slurping loudly on a straw (insert your own image of Aaron pining to come back as that straw in his life) -- "I was wondering if it'd be okay with you if I went to his funeral?" As if we didn't have enough proof of how screwed up Nate and Lisa's relationship is, he now has to ask permission before going to Bern's funeral? Is he aware that even half-functional adults don't require their partners to slog through that kind of hogwash? Nate tries to sway the argument with, "It's just, she was there with me when my father died." He does not add, "And I mean with me. In a closet." In a rare moment of non-psychosis, Lisa urges Nate to go to the funeral, and adds, "So you'll leave Maya with your mom?" Nate's just so giddy to be let off the leash, he's all, "I'll figure something out!" Lisa passes on some instructions with regards to Maya's digestive tract (verily, the Fisher family has gastrointestinal issues), and Nate, still riding high on his permission to go to a funeral, replies with, "I love you." Lisa loves him too. He asks if she's having fun, and she replies, "Not yet," before hanging up. You know, I remember when we first met Lisa in Seattle; she seemed kind of dopey with her longstanding crush on Nate, but still reasonably capable of enjoying herself. And now, she is just the black hole of fun, with a gravitational vortex capable of sucking (and sucking, and sucking) everything enjoyable out of any situation.
After Nate clicks off, he and Claire sync on the situation, and she comments on the ephemeral nature of life and death with, "That sucks." Nate fills us all in on how the funeral's in Malibu in a few hours, and he's heading up to check it out. He then asks where Ruth is so he can line up the free babysitting. Claire tells him she has no idea where Ruth is; Ruth evidently told Claire she had an urgent need to go out and get a new gardening hat. Claire adds, "She seemed kind of weird." "How can you tell when Mom's weird?" replies Nate. "Good point," Claire allows. Nate then asks Claire if she'll watch Maya, and offers her all of $20 to disrupt her day's plans. Claire shoots him down with, "You know, this isn't the Matrix. The rest of us, who don't have babies? We're real." She's out of the room and off to the art store with Russell, and she makes a great exit, muttering, "Watch my baby, watch my baby...Jesus Christ." Nate tosses a few gratuitous "fuck"s around -- nobody should be surprised when that's Maya's first word -- as he tries to line up babysitting.
After the latest "fuck!" and a slammed-down phone, Rico appears and asks what's going on. Nate explains, "I thought I could drop Maya off with Todd and Dana's nanny for a while, but I guess not." Rico volunteers his own wife for child-care duty, what with her already being home with the boys. Nate asks if Vanessa's going to be okay with a third kid dropped in her lap, and Rico assures him, "Of course! She loves babies." Nate minimizes the commitment that watching Maya would entail, and Rico speaks for his wife with a lordly wave of his hand. I do feel for Rico here -- he's trying to figure out how to snap his wife out of her funk, he's trying to make nice with his business partners, and...oh, look, he's trying to get Vanessa a little pin money too: "You'll have to pay her." Now I've jumped the fence to the Shut Up, Rico Rolling Estates, 'cause he sure didn't pitch the Vanessa thing like it was a business transaction; nor did he give Nate a chance to volunteer the information about the princely $20 he's willing to put up for an afternoon of childcare.
But before we can spend too much time watching this potentially awkward situation develop, we're on to another one of the episode's plots: David and Keith. David is criticizing Keith's shirt because "it covers up all of your good, big...parts." Keith repeats, "My good big parts?" with no enthusiasm, and David plows on over him with, "Yeah! Take that thing off, and go put on something better -- maybe your silver DKNY t-shirt." Keith turns around and asks, "Is this a brunch or a fashion show?" and David replies that "I want everyone to be jealous of my beautiful boyfriend, is that okay? I have, like, two things going for me in this world, and you're one of them." Keith teases, "What's the other one?" and David rolls his eyes before admitting, "All right -- one. Anyway, you knew that sweatshirt was a bad idea when you put it on." Keith folds. Canoodling follows. Keith makes a case for blowing off brunch in favor of other activities, but David's all, "You make a very strong case, but I really want a mimosa." David! For the love of God, Keith's offering you the chance to pour champagne and OJ all over him, and you still want to go out? No wonder this relationship is in trouble.
And now, Ruth reaches a new low as she stalks Arthur during the course of his run. Then again, what lonely forty- or fifty-something woman wouldn't be driven mad by someone shuffling along in a knees-locked gait, big black shoes and pajama-like sweats flapping in the breeze? Anyway, Ruth's gone all creepy: she crouches in the bushes as Arthur huffs and puffs past her. She does have a new hat, probably purchased for anonymity.
Nate's headed over to Casa de Rico, where Vanessa answers the door brightly, Augusto on her hip, and says, "It's so cool you're leaving the baby here for a while." Nate walks into the living room, and he's all, "What's that smell?" Vanessa explains that she tried to make rice pudding, but the milk was all weird; I'm going to assume that by "weird," she meant "bad." Nate's discomfort only increases as he finally walks into the living room. Julio's planted in front of the television, and the contents of the local Toys 'R' Us are scattered all over the floor. Nate looks around with the parental misgivings only someone whose kid is not yet mobile and making messes can have, and Vanessa hurriedly explains, "It's a mess. I was just starting to clean when you called. Two kids, you know? It's so hard to keep up." Nate lies, "I can imagine." Vanessa looks up with a wide, fake smile and says, "I don't think you can. I know it seems like having two kids would be twice as hard, but it's like three, four times as much to do." Or, as a friend of mine put it, more kids aren't linear; they're quadratic. Vanessa unwittingly gives him a shout-out with, "I don't know how that is, you know, the math, but somehow it all adds up." Nate's clearly horrified by the prospect of leaving his daughter with a woman who talks about how hard it is to keep up with two kids of her own. Vanessa keeps on talking: "You're lucky you just have one. And Lisa's such a good mom, I bet she does everything right." I bet that anvil whistling to the ground behind Vanessa portends something awful happening to or around Julio or Augusto later this season. Nate feebly answers, "She's, uh, good. Yeah." Vanessa, who's still wearing a Joker-like grin on her face, says, "Because I get so tired sometimes, I could almost cry." Then, perhaps sensing that this is something she shouldn't be telling Nate, Vanessa changes the topic to children's television, sighing for Barney, "Things were so much simpler then." As she goes to put some of the toys away, Nate looks around the living room, and it's evident he's not going to be dropping off Maya.
Claire and Russell are walking through the aisles of the art supplies store, with Claire drooling, "I could go totally broke in this place." Russell adds, "Every time I come here, I feel like Augustus Gloop in the chocolate room. You know what I'm talking about?" Claire does: "Oh, yeah. When I was a kid, those Oompa Loompas used to freak me out." She's not the only one. Russell reveals the roots of his tormented soul with, "Whenever it was on, my mom would make us watch it? And I would cry every time, and she didn't even care." They chatter some more about that movie -- Russell thinks it's "a fucking nightmare" -- and by the time that conversation has died a natural death, they're in the paint aisle. Claire's entranced by a tube of cobalt blue: "Just think -- this is the natural part of the earth that's this color blue." Russell, who's hanging all over Claire, murmurs, "Like Olivier said." Claire continues, "It's an element, and you just, like, add oil to it and you can make pictures with it. It's so cave-people-y. I love it." Russell suggests that Claire buy it, but she pooh-poohs the idea, what with that one tube of cobalt costing $50. No wonder artists are starving if they're paying that much for paint..
And now, Nate's come back to Fisher & Diaz for that awkward "I don't trust your wife with my kid" conversation. Or, as Nate puts it, "What's up with Vanessa?" Rico claims there's nothing going on; when Nate presses, Rico admits, "She's been down in the dumps since her mom died, but other than that, why?" Nate stammers, "I don't know, Rico. I got there, and, uh, I don't know how to put this but she had this really intense energy going on, and there's no way I could have left Maya there." Of all the ways to broach the possibility of serious depression, that was in the bottom five. Nate had a conversation with Vanessa where she repeatedly talked about how tired and overwhelmed she was, and he can't think to pass that on? Oh, that's right -- that would have required Nate to take a break from his monumental self-absorption and actually listen when other people were talking. It's much easier to blither on in a Nate-centric cocoon and get Rico all riled up, like he's doing now. Fortunately, Arthur comes in just in time to get a face full of attitude from Rico. Since Arthur has not yet fallen prey to the communicable self-absorption that has claimed the rest of the Fisher house's regular occupants and visitors, he immediately offers to care for Maya. Nate does not take him up on that. Arthur attempts to sell himself as a qualified caregiver with, "I love infants. They smell so sweet." The way Arthur says that, it's easy to imagine him following up, "But really, I've discovered they're actually more savory, like gamecock. Maybe it's the sauce I'm using." Rico is giving Arthur the what the hell? look at this point. Nate stammers a refusal, and Arthur says in a hushed tone that he obviously thinks is calming, "Never hesitate to ask. I used to watch my cousins all the time, and they were Mormons." By this point, both Nate and Rico honestly have no idea how to react to Arthur. Heh. I like Arthur for that reason alone.
Time has presumably elapsed, since we're now at a seaside memorial service in Malibu. Bern's urn is there, as is a small podium from which someone is reading, "So let it be said of me when I am gone, he lived by the light of the ten thousand things / his heart with starry sparks was thus sustained / and love and meaning passed through him and fled / to carry joy from dark to dark was joy enough for him / the man is dead." This is where Zhora breaks out in laughter. It's a totally understandable impulse -- there she is, probably thinking that Bern would have hated either the poem or the speaker, she's imagining his reaction, and off she goes. Brenda and Billy, however, are a little mortified. What is the world coming to when they are the guardians of propriety in a social setting? Eventually Zhora composes herself, and Billy tags in on the podium. He pulls out a few photographs and explains their contents: "I just have some pictures. This first one is of Dad and me in the backyard, standing to my hole to China. I was five years old, trying to dig a hole to China. He never, ever told me I couldn't actually get to China. He just kept digging with me until I got bored. That was a good day. The second one is of the whole family with Dad at the APA conference in 1984. They gave him an award, and he got up there and made all these jokes about Jimmy Carter needing Adlerian therapy. I didn't get the jokes, but I was proud of him that night. I was proud that he was my dad. This last one..." Billy trails off, and it's anyone's guess what the last photo will be. Brenda slips right back into her old role and murmurs, "Come on, Billy." Billy finishes, "It's just a really good picture." The string quartet the Chenowiths hired for the occasion kicks in, and Billy makes his way back to his seat. Brenda hugs him.
Brunchtime. Buckle your seatbelts, everyone -- it's going to be a very bumpy morning. David is greeted by the host with "Welcome to my humble a-baudelaire!" and there are air kisses all around. David apologizes for being late, and Hostess with the Mostess is all, "Oh, fuck that! You guys are the cavalry. Your timing is perfect." Introductions are made (but not so I can remember who this guy is, and I'm terrible with names), and then HwtM calls out, "Hey, everybody! It's David and Keith!" Around fifty identical men turn around and call out, "Hi!" in response. Keith understandably looks like he wants to flee; when he learns that he's not to look the little rat-dog Trixie in the eye, the "get me out of here now" vibe intensifies, but the coup de grace is when he and David get slapped on the back with name labels and told they're now playing "Leading Ladies." David has to explain the game to Keith, and then acts all supportive of his boyfriend's obvious discomfort with, "Come on. You can either decide to have a rotten time or you can decide to have fun." Keith correctly calls him on this with, "You sound like a camp counselor." Both of them need mimosas, stat. Keith tries to get into it by seeing who David got; when David turns around, he says gleefully, "Oh, that's gooood."
And now, the gentle poet of the memorial service is talking to Zhora and saying how he hoped the offering was okay, and he thinks Bern liked it. Zhora disabuses him of that notion, as well as any other cherished belief the man may have had about Bern liking him. Billy asks Zhora to knock it down a peg, and she defends herself with psychobabble: "Billy, your Uncle Marv is here for his own complicated reasons. He deserves to have his own complicated experience. Well now, thank you, Marv. It was a perfect poem, you did your duty, you can now get the fuck outta here." Billy tries to shush his mom. Again, I am agog at Billy becoming the steward of social etiquette. It's amazing what a season and a half of off-camera medication and institutionalization can do for a guy, huh?
After Marv leaves, Zhora says bitterly, "He never forgave your father for being a success. Or giving up Hannukah." (If the Hannukah thing was a sticking point, what about the cremation? We totally need Aaron to come in and clarify that one.) Anyway, Nate comes up wheeling an SUV-like stroller and descends on Zhora to work his grief mojo, somehow managing to say the right things. Zhora tells him, "Don't give me that funeral home shit. Did Brenda call you?" When Nate reveals that she did not, Zhora is impressed, and tells him how strange that is. Nate jumps from one awkward moment to another by shaking hands with Billy. Brenda, who's been watching Nate out of the corner of her eye, comes over. She's the only one Nate doesn't touch. Zhora invites Nate to the post-funeral family get-together that Billy's arranged. She turns back to Nate and quips, "Tragedy. It's the one thing our children are really good at. I mean, my children." Billy then asks if Nate can come on by, but Nate begs off. Brenda asks, "You can stick around for a little bit, though, huh?" The look on her face telegraphs how badly she wants to talk to him, and how she has no idea where to begin.
We then see a vacuum working over the rug in the parlor. Ruth, still in her stalker chapeau, pops into the doorway to say hi. Arthur turns off the vacuum and says, cheerily as always, "Hi, Ruth. Did you have a good time stalking me this morning?" Ruth attempts to recover, but Arthur barrels on, "Oh, please. If you like following people so much, why don't you join the CIA? Or the Moonies? Or why don't you go to the actual fucking moon, and mind your own moon business?? YOU FREAK!" During the last few sentences, Arthur's come over, grabbed Ruth's hat, and hit her with it. Then we realize it's all Ruth's paranoid daydream as Arthur stops the vacuum to ask if she had a good morning, and she dithers through a reply before blurting, "My hair feels funny." Arthur feebly says goodbye.
Brunch. David agreeing with his choir friends that it's a miracle Keith came, and it's no surprise that he's not exactly the life of the party. We then get to see, up close, exactly how Keith's bombing out with the one-on-one conversation. To be fair, it's probably a point in Keith's favor that he doesn't know who Gretchen Mol is. However, this gap in his Vanity Fair cover knowledge does lead the woman he's chatting with to snap, "Are you really gay?" Way to be open-minded and nonjudgmental, lady.
Nate is waiting for Brenda on a rocky bench overlooking the Pacific. She comes over and stands near him, and asks, "Baby's first funeral?" Nate replies, "Hardly." "Yeah. I guess not," Brenda says. Nate asks how she's holding up, and Brenda expresses a fervent desire to talk about anything other than herself or her dead father, at least for thirty seconds. Fortunately, Nate can talk about himself. Or about Maya. Brenda crouches down to look at Maya, and comments on how beautiful she is. Nate says, "She discovered the telephone the other day. It's become, like, her favorite new toy." Brenda's relieved to have Nate talking, so she eggs him on, and he talks about how Maya accidentally speed-dialed his neurologist's office, freaking out the nurse on the other end of the line. Brenda looks uncomfortable with that story, and finally settles for telling Nate that she can't believe he hiked over his mountain of self-absorption to come support her at a funeral. Or something to that effect. Nate says simply, "Of course I came."
Back in the basement, Rico takes some time out from prepping a dead body to call Vanessa and see how she's doing. He digs for information about Nate's visit, and Vanessa -- who we see sitting in house that seems to have sunken into greater disarray -- tells him, "Don't tell him I said this, baby, but he seemed kind of out of it." Rico presses to make sure nothing else was going on, and Vanessa tells him Nate's only got first-child paranoia, and that's just the way it is. Rico's all, "So...um...so...you're feeling okay?" As a matter of fact, Vanessa's not. She tells Rico the kids are bouncing off the walls, while we see them in the background sitting and eating quietly. Liar! Liar! Liar!
Brenda's decided she wants to talk about her dead dad now. We learn that Bern died three months to the day after his diagnosis of gastric cancer. She says, "It was everywhere, it was all up and down his alimentary canal. It was fun learning the jargon." At least she could learn it. Come to think of it, a few medical facts seeped into Nate's blockhead: "I know what you mean. I never even knew I had a medulla oblongata; now I could draw it for you, along with everything else in my head." What medium is he working in? Etch-a-Sketch? Crayon? Brenda asks if Nate has a scar; he counters, "Is that a rhetorical question?" She asks to see the scar, and he shows her. Brenda reaches out to touch it, and finally loses it, turning away to begin weeping. Nate tells her, "Bren, it's okay. I'm okay." Because, you know, being at her father's funeral would have nothing to do with her bursting into tears. Brenda pleads volatile funeral-related emotions, and Nate hangs with her until she calms down enough to remind him that they're in the very place they were supposed to get married. Nate knew that. They sit there, weirdly comfortable. Since I'm in an overanalyzing mood, I'm going to guess that they're probably also grieving for the way things played out between them.
Brunchtime. Keith is the sole leading lady who has not figured out who she is. He's Jeanne Tripplehorn, and while aficionados of bad movies (i.e. me) would know who she is, Keith is among that giant segment of the population which had the good sense to stay away from Waterworld. As more and more people begin tossing Jeanne Tripplehorn's CV at Keith, he has a Social Hell kind of daydream where everyone's turned into a dreadful Catholic schoolgirl chanting, "Waterworld!" Poor guy. No wonder he has rage issues, which he threatens to air during the brunch by blurting angrily, "I have no idea!" After the awkward silence that follows, HwtM resigns himself to pulling Keith's sticker off his back and telling him who he was. Over in the kitchen area, David dies a thousand deaths because Keith's embarrassing him in front of his friends. Poor Keith looks miserable.
Out in Malibu, the sun's going down and Brenda's still talking with Nate. She tells him, "Watching him die was like watching someone get washed out to sea, only they're sitting right there in bed. A wave comes, takes them a little away, another waves comes, takes them a little away. Every wave is a day. Little by little, off they...off they go." Nate just watches her talk. After a moment, Brenda starts talking again, and she tells him, "I don't want to put you in a weird position..." "I'm already in a weird position," he tells her. Well, not with Lisa; they have the boring sex, remember? Anyway, Brenda tells him she missed him through the whole thing with Bern. Nate immediately responds that he's missed her too. They basically tell each other that they liked themselves better when they were with each other, and their lives now are pretty weak in comparison. Brenda says, "You know what I think?" Nate asks, "About what?" Brenda replies, "I don't know. About life." Nate asks again, "What?" Brenda tells him, "I think it's all about timing. I think timing is everything." Now would be an excellent time for Nate Sr. to stroll on the scene and say, "She's right, buddy boy." Instead, Nate simply agrees with Brenda, and the camera pulls out to show the two of them sitting close together, facing each other as the sun slowly goes down over the ocean.
On another beach, Claire's parked the hearse so she and Russell can hang out in peace. He hands her a box, and she asks if she forgot some weird relationship anniversary. Wrong approach, Claire! Just take the present! Anyway, she eventually does, and opens the box to see the tube of cobalt. Claire asks, "How did you ever get this?" "Magic," Russell replies, declining to clarify whether it's the five-fingered kind of magic or the American Express kind. Claire thanks Russell by calling him a dumb-ass, and he tells her, "I don't care what you do with it. I just wanted you to have it. I have a theory that every now and then, a person should get what they want when they want it. It keeps you optimistic." Claire immediately replies, "That's a good theory. But I've never been optimistic, so..." "Maybe it's time to start," Russell replies. You can tell that Claire's totally moved by the gift. After Claire reminds Russell that he just spent a lot of money on her, he replies, "So what? Money only fucks up art anyway, right?" You know, if there are any writers who feel that way, send that awful, distracting cash right on over here. I'll take the necessary risk that my art is compromised by filthy lucre. ["Me too, me too!" -- Sars] Russell continues, "I'd rather be poor and see you happy." That's Claire's cue to come on over and snuggle up to Russell and swoon up at him. She says, "I have to be careful I don't get too used to this," since it's a refreshing break from the stream of promiscuous, gun-toting losers she usually goes for. Russell informs her that she can feel free to get used to it. This is when Claire brings up Olivier, and we find out that neither of them are exactly running to their lord and master with news of their love lives. That dialogue -- and the attendant rain of tiny anvils with Olivier's name on them that it prompted -- out of the way, the two of them can get back to enjoying the rest of this episode, as they're the designated happy couple this week.
Back at the House of Fisher, Ruth is twirling around the parlor singing "My Favorite Things" while Arthur plays the organ, and the whole set-up is only one midget and a law enforcement official away from being a Twin Peaks outtake. Nate watches from the door, torn between horror and amusement. When Ruth finally realizes Nate's been watching her, she launches into the Arthur Monologues; Nate couldn't care less what talents beat in the birdlike chest of the industrious Arthur. He cares that Arthur check in with Rico -- and Arthur assures him gravely that he will -- but anything else is not relevant to him.
Then we slip through a hole in the space-time continuum because we're now back at brunch, and unless this brunch turns into brinner, this whole plot has got to be taking place much earlier in the day than everything else is. Anyway, David is peeing in the bathroom when Keith comes in and practically begs, "Are you ready to get out of here?" No, David is not. Keith says he's going to take off, and David quickly gets conciliatory, and Keith says they can leave together if it's just going to be a little longer. David doesn't think that's going to be the case: "It's going to be another few hours; these guys take their brunches very seriously." Keith then makes plans to take off, and David'll catch a ride with another leading lady. I do like how Keith's been looking through the medical cabinet while he's been talking. He does look down to comment on how much David's peeing -- the result of roughly seven mimosas and way too much coffee. Keith pecks David goodbye and takes off while David's still emptying his system of caffeine and alcohol.
Nate's reading to Maya and ignoring one of the seven bottles of breast milk when Lisa comes in the door. He asks how it went, and Lisa answers happily, "It was amazing. There was this booth where you could taste all kinds of truffles --" "Like chocolate?" Nate asks. "No, no, no. The mushroom things. They were, like, two bucks for a paper-thin slice. Ah! They were so good. Oh, they tasted like chocolate and mushrooms and soy sauce and everything, all at once. It was amazing!" Nate's so amazed, he's retreated into the book Maya's reading; he mumbles, "Sounds like it." ["Instead of snapping, 'Um, PROBLEM PURCHASE!' as I no doubt would have done." -- Sars] Lisa continues, "Dana was essentially stalked by this guy who was trying to sell a smoothie franchise. He followed us around the convention center for, like, an hour with his little tray of smoothie flavors. Dana finally had to kind of hit him. How was your day?" Nate tells her it was okay -- he ended up taking Maya to the funeral, and there's no way that he ended up spending a few hours with his ex talking about what hollow emotional shams their lives are now.
Predictably, Lisa loses her shit. After putting Maya in a chair so the hostile vibes won't damage her aura or anything, Lisa comes back and begins quizzing Nate. "Did Brenda hold Maya?" Nate answers that Maya slept nearly the whole time. "Did she look at her?" Lisa continues. Why? Does Brenda's gaze routinely turn people to stone? Nate's a little irritated by this question too, and he answers in the affirmative. Lisa's all worked up, and she asks, "Did [Brenda] touch her?" Nate's all, "I guess, yeah." Lisa gets more irrational with, "So you swear she didn't hold her." And that's when the "Don't Make Any Long-Term Plans, Nate" sign lit up in bright neon and begin flashing in back of Lisa's head, what with it finally becoming apparent that his wife has enough issues to make the Library of Congress's periodical section look like a dentist's waiting room. Nate asks, reasonably, if it would have mattered whether or not Brenda held the baby, and Lisa flips out with, "Do you care about me at all?" Nate protests that he does -- a little too automatically, like it's a mantra he repeats before he cries himself to sleep -- and Lisa's all, "Then don't let your old girlfriends hold our baby!" Nate avoids pointing out that Brenda's actually an old fiancée, but in any case, he's not getting why this is an issue. Lisa babbles, "It's not that complicated, Nate. Anyone who knows that other people exist would have already figured it out!" What, that you're crazy?
Nate goes into another round of denial when he claims he's not in love with Brenda anymore, and Lisa rebuts, "You went to her father's funeral!" Where he's going to proposition her between scripture readings? This is...why Nate stays in this scene, much less in this marriage, is baffling to me. Nate points out that he didn't go to the funeral until he got Lisa's okay. She wails, "Well, why do you keep spending time with her? Why can't you let her go?" Because drinks and a funeral don't really constitute an obsessive affair on Nate's part? Nate assures her that he and Brenda are over. Lisa may be crazy, but she's not stupid; she calls bullshit. Nate also points out that his past affair with Brenda doesn't diminish his marriage. Again, crazy Lisa manages to correctly perceive that as the bullshit it is: "When you come back from spending time with her, you're different." Nate snaps, "What are you talking about? How am I different?" Lisa blurts, "You're more you, like the you that you used to be!" Like, the Nate Lisa was idealizing and squandering her emotional energy on in Seattle, as opposed to the Nate she's saddled with who might actually force her to realize she wasted a lot of time and energy on a delusion? That Nate? This Nate counters, "Yeah, well I wish you were more fucking like you used to be!" Lisa claims she hasn't changed at all. Nate begs to differ: "Yes, you have! You used to have a life. You had friends. You had a job. You didn't spend every waking moment focusing on what's wrong with me, and how I'm constantly disappointing you." Rather than counter that assertion, Lisa bails out of the discussion after throwing some truffles at him.
Out at the Chenowith condo, Brenda is meditating on Bern's urn, but Billy's only half-listening. He admits, "I hated him for so long." "He did the best he could. We all did," Brenda sighs. She goes to talk into the urn, but that freaks Billy out. As Brenda backs away from the ashes and comments, "Wow, that's what Nate faces every day," we see Zhora standing in the doorway behind her children, watching them on the couch. She finally says, "I suppose we have to do something with your father's goddamned ashes." Billy reminds her that it is kind of traditional, but Zhora can't handle that. Brenda points out that Bern's in no hurry to go anywhere. Zhora comes over, saying, "You've never felt so much like my children before. Having your father around always took the edge off that sensation, I think. But I look at you both now, and you're so mine." "Thanks?" Brenda tries. Zhora comes over to sit between them on the couch, and Zhora continues, "When you were little children, Bren, you used to start everything you said to us with an 'and' or a 'but.' You'd say, 'And, Mom, can we go to the store?' 'But, Dad, when we were talking before, you said…' You always started with a conjunction like that. And Billy, when you started talking, you did the same thing. He learned that from you, Bren. Your father used to say living with you two was like listening to the longest sentence in the history of the universe. And now there's no one to hear it but me." Billy and Brenda reach out for her, and the three of them silently sit together on the couch.
In his room, Arthur is speaking into a tape recorder: "Dear Carl and Cameron: Greetings from cousin Arthur. A babysitting opportunity passed me by today, and left me thinking of you two fellows. I hope you're enjoying spreading the gospel in Kansas City. My internship is coming along swimmingly. There is a dear, charming woman here at the funeral home who is very kind, and attentive. Well, I suppose that's all there is." Arthur clicks the tape player, then remembers a postscript: "P.S. Keeping in touch would be a lot easier if you got an email account." He then clicks the tape player again. There's something about the expression on his face as he looks down at the tape player -- regret, maybe, that he doesn't have more people in the stories he sends to his relatives? -- that completely endears his character to me. I like Arthur because he's utterly himself without apology, and that's given him the ability to be genuinely interested in other people. It's a refreshing change from most of the regulars. Watch -- now that I've admitted I like him, his character is completely doomed.
Rico's talking with Vanessa at their table, trying to approach the idea of getting her counseling or medication for depression. It doesn't go well. At the end of the scene, Rico takes a small toy ambulance and pushes it off the table, where it plummets to the ground accompanied by a succession of tiny anvils. At this point, even the Angel of Death hovering over this house is snapping, "Get on with it already!"
Meanwhile, at the studio of sham marriages, Nate is sitting up in bed thinking about how miserable he is, while his crazy wife sleeps the sleep of the innocent and/or deluded. There's a rippling light across the wall, as if cast from a swimming pool lit up at night, and Nate sees Bern standing at the foot of his bed, looking very sad. He tells Nate, "You don't have to worry about Brenda." Nate says, "I'm not worried about her." Bern repeats, more gently, "You don't have to worry about Brenda." Nate asks, "No?" "No," Bern tells him. He continues, "You found your happiness, Nate. She'll find hers. It's just a matter of time." Nate asks, "What if I haven't found mine?" Bern smiles sadly, and he fades away with the watery light, leaving Nate sitting in the dark and searching for an answer to that question.
week: Dead polygamists! Paintball matches! Lisa gets even crazier! Vanessa gets more depressed! Aaron returns and does justice to this show!