It's never good when the opening scene contains characters we know. Unless, of course, one or more of those characters is annoying. In this case, Ruth's sister Sarah is hiking along a high canyon ridge. Her friend Fiona is winded and lagging behind a bit, but she says she's glad Sarah got her out of the house. Sure, she says that now, but we all know that at least one of these two women is going to end the scene at a much lower altitude than she's currently at. This trail should have a guardrail or something. Fiona wobbles, but Sarah's too excited over the view they're about to enjoy to even consider slowing down: "We're moments from the top, mere moments!" Sarah's boot slips in a pothole in the trail, but she fails to either plummet to her death or warn Fiona that she's about to plummet to hers. Which she does. Although we don't see the actual plummeting. She just starts to slip, and then we cut to Sarah, hearing Fiona gasp. Sarah calls to the now-empty trail behind her. So much for Fiona Lenore Kleinschmidt (1952-2005). Yes, that one. Fifteen-year-old boys all over the Southland can breathe a little easier tonight. Because, you know, they won't be all tired out from having a bunch of sex.
It's a hectic morning with David and Keith and the kids. That's right, Anthony and Durrell have already moved in. Time sure flies between episodes on this show, doesn't it? The men are struggling with getting the kids' lunches packed while the boys struggle with…each other, making a big mess. Keith, who's already stressed out from trying to deal with all the pieces that go into your standard sack lunch, angrily separates them and says it's time to go. Durrell throws Keith a bunch of attitude over being told to wear his jacket, a situation which perennial middle child David naturally defuses by sending the kids off to brush their teeth. "It's like he wants me to lose my temper," Keith carps, and David says to give Durrell time. Keith says it's been two weeks. He's also not impressed when David reminds Keith of Durrell's background: "My sister's a drug addict. Taylor never acted like this." David explains that being a girl, Taylor "isn't hardwired to be aggressive and territorial." You know, like David is. "It's the reason she doesn't have the same problem with your father that you do." "So now everything that happened between me and my father is my fault?" Keith snaps. Before it can get any uglier, Anthony appears back in the kitchen, announcing that Durrell now has an issue with his hat. "I'll be in the car," Keith grumbles, and walks out past Anthony without sparing the boy a glance. David smiles at Anthony as reassuringly as he can. Not a good sign; only two weeks and they're already playing good cop/bad big black sex cop.
Ruth and George are unpacking in "their" new apartment. The furniture's there, but there are still half-unpacked boxes strewn everywhere. Ruth asks him for the last four digits of his Social Security number for whatever utility company she's on the phone with, and he rattles them right off so we can see he's doing better. While she gets put on hold, he tells her with some bewilderment that he's looking for their pots and pans. She lies that they must have forgotten them, and that they can just run down to Crate & Barrel and get a new set. George does a little commercial for the nearly new Calphalon set they already have, but Ruth blows off his concerns and finishes her phone call. Then she asks George if he's talked to the dean at his college about going back to work. George says he wants to concentrate on getting better for now. And the item he unpacks is that little yellow cordless drill he and Ruth bought at Home Depot when she asked him to marry her. She seems to soften a little at this and says, "Okay, I'll go get our pots and pans. I'll be back before you know it." She's out the door. George puts the drill in a place of honor on the kitchen pass-through and chuckles to himself, oblivious to the fact that his days of boring with his wife are numbered.
Claire is interviewing at a temp agency, where things are going well. She even got a 95 on her typing test. The temp lady says only one other person ever got a 100, and she was probably psychic. And that line was written by someone who's never taken a typing test. Claire cuts in to say that she's applied for a grant for emerging artists, and if she gets it -- "which could be this month or this week" -- she'd have to stop working "like, immediately." Someone's a little confident about getting that grant, methinks. "Temp is short for temporary," the temp lady assures her. Wow, I always thought it was short for "getting Totally screwed out of Everything, like benefits, vacation, sick time, and More than half of the hourly rate that the company is Paying for you to be there." You learn something every day. Temp Lady rattles off a generic-sounding office job description, and Claire says without much enthusiasm that it sounds fine. "You have corporate attire, right?" "Like a business suit?" Claire asks. Temp Lady says, "Or a nice blouse. Skirt. Hose." Claire nods tightly. As if she knows from tight yet.
Sarah must have gone directly from the hiking trail to Fisher & Diaz. In a departure from the usual intake configuration, she's sitting to Nate on the couch, and Rico is sitting across from both of them. Sarah gushes about how lucky she is to have been with Fiona in her final moments, and how alive Fiona was, and how excited Fiona was to see the view and what a big lousy liar Sarah is. I might have added that last part. Nate seems pretty affected himself by Fiona's death. Rico asks if Nate knew her too, and Nate says he did. He and Sarah share a mischievous little laugh at that. "This is, like, the second person you've known," Rico observes. You know, Rico, these things come in threes. Why don't you sit a little closer to Nate? Sarah says it was Fiona's time to go, and that Sarah was "compelled" to stop and pick up Fiona on the way to her hike. "The spirit had to have her." Rico barely keeps a straight face as he nods and slowly says, "The spirit…works in mysterious ways." Nate and Sarah just stare at him blankly. Shut up, Rico. Answer your ringing cell phone if you want to talk. "The coroner's office," Rico says, looking at the caller ID. "She must be ready to go." He leaves them alone to take his call, and Sarah shakily says to Nate, "We're going to make it beautiful, right? Yay."
What non-work-related aspect of her personal life is Brenda complaining to her boss about today? Well, it's Billy, and his claims to be back on his meds. She bitches, "Like that's all that matters. Is he on, or is he off? He's completely oblivious to the fact that we're all just exhausted. They should call it, like, bipolar asshole disorder." Always something you want to hear from a mental health professional. Jackie says Brenda needs to ask Billy for a break, but Brenda's too worried about her brother to not keep him close. And then she abruptly changes the subject. "People are starting to notice I'm pregnant." What, you think when I said "change the subject" I meant "change the subject to something other than Brenda"? You must be new here. Jackie pulls the disparate threads of this conversation together by saying that Brenda looks beautiful, and by encouraging her to put her energy "where it deserves to be, and let Billy take care of himself." Brenda agrees. Did she take this internship to give therapy or to get it?
Vanessa sits on the couch at home with her sister, who apparently got a part in a sitcom pilot, which they're watching now. Since we can't see any of it, we're left to wonder if Angelica is playing the wacky sister on a Latino show or the wacky Latina neighbor on an Anglo show. I'm sure she's plenty wacky either way. Vanessa checks her watch and says she has to go to the airport soon to pick up the babysitter. Wow, Julio's reputation for being a bad seed has traveled fast if his mom needs to fly someone in. "Au pair," Angelica corrects, which Vanessa says is "too bourgie," so Angelica amends it to "nanny." "This is L.A. Everyone has live-in help," Angelica claims, and asks if Vanessa's mad that she can't help as much any more. Vanessa is supportive, but Angelica says she doesn't want it to be weird for Vanessa, having a stranger in the house, "especially from Saskatchewan. Where is Saskatchewan, anyway?" "Near Calgary, I think," Vanessa says. "To tell you the truth, she can have horns and weigh 300 pounds for all I care. As long as she brings in the water bottles…I just need an adult." Well, at least with Rico gone she has one less kid.
Ruth comes into the Fisher house to the sound of sobbing, and to find a crying Sarah crashed on the living room sofa. With her hiking-booted feet up on the upholstery, no less. I'm surprised we don't get two deaths this episode. Sarah tearfully gives Ruth the news about Fiona. "I know you hated her for what she did to Nate, but we've lost her. She's gone." And Sarah curls up disconsolately in Ruth's lap. Ruth looks momentarily upset at having to deal with yet another person who needs her, until a light bulb goes off over her head. An evil light bulb.
Cut to Ruth on the phone in the kitchen a few minutes later, telling George about Fiona's death. "I'm just sick about it," she lies. "Fiona was a very close friend of mine. Very close." George offers to come over. Ruth declines, saying Sarah's in shock. "It's not a pretty scene down here. I think it's only appropriate for family. Of origin." Nice. Right then, of course, Sarah sits up and cries, "People! I need people! Who can we call?" "What did she say?" asks George, and Ruth says Sarah's "jabbering" and "incoherent," and hangs up as fast as she can. Sarah calls for her phone book. As Ruth heads off to get it out of Sarah's bag, Sarah says, "I need to circle the wagons."
Well, Sarah's got one friend in the house already, but of course she's on Rico's table so she's no help to anyone. Down in the Body Shop, David's just gotten a call telling him Durrell pulled a fire alarm at school and now David has to go see the principal. Did anyone bother to ask if there was a fire? Durrell might have saved lives! Probably not, though. "I can't tell Keith," David says. "He's just looking for more proof that these kids are too messed up for us." "You want to keep them?" Rico asks. David says he'd keep Anthony in a heartbeat, although Durrell's a mess. "But what can you expect?…Their dad basically abandoned them." Rico looks away at that, and David apologizes. Rico says he's found his own place, a two-bedroom so the kids can stay overnight. He looks forward to mornings with the boys, and David says he hopes Rico gets the place, if that's what he wants. Rico says, "What I want is to be back home, but I have to take in the reality that it's not going to happen." Which means it's totally going to happen.
Carrying a shitload of luggage, Vanessa leads the boys and their new babysitter/au pair/nanny (who I'm going to be calling Donna, because that's her name) into the house. The kids run ahead, like they always do, because we always have to get the kids out of the scene as quickly as possible. Before the poor girl's even put her coat down, Vanessa grabs a list of duties she's printed out and starts going over it. It starts with doing dishes, and meeting the cable guy, and then she asks, "Do you have those giant water bottles in Canada?" No, Vanessa, they just chip off chunks of their igloos when they get thirsty up there. Vanessa asks Donna to bring in a new bottle whenever the current one is empty. She hands the printout to Donna, who carefully asks, "Would it be okay if I got a little settled in first?" Vanessa apologizes and starts helping to carry Donna's stuff to the back of the house, saying she's just excited that Donna is here. "Help is on the way," Donna says to the woman who's carrying half of her luggage.
It's dark outside, and so far the only friend Ruth has managed to scare up for Sarah is Kathy Bates, a.k.a. Bettina. In a nicely subtle touch, she's currently making dinner using Ruth's pots and pans. Sarah's gotten a hold of one of Fiona's email lists, and Bettina says they'll contact everyone tomorrow and regroup back at the Fisher place. Ruth says she's going to be spending the night at the house. When the other women get really quiet, she explains, "George and I are in transition mode." Sarah says it sounded like they were together when Ruth was on the phone. "You threw the bum out 'cause he couldn't get his fucking shit together?" Bettina asks, and Ruth says she "made a plan" with her knitting buddies to get George set up on his own. "Sort of pad the landing and then…" "Parachute out of there?" Bettina guesses. "When the time is right," Ruth says smugly. Bettina says Ruth will be changing George's diapers and drinking a gallon of Merlot a day. Well, she probably should cut down to that sometime anyway.
Claire and her brown paper shopping bag come in from her day of jobhunting, and Ruth says, "Oh, Claire, your Aunt Sarah's dear friend Fiona was killed today." "What, someone killed her?" Claire asks. Hee. Bettina says Fiona fell off a cliff in Topanga Canyon. "You met her at the full moon celebration," Sarah tells Claire. Claire remembers, since Fiona wrote her a recommendation for art school. "And she knew dad and…Nate?" "Yes, that's the one," Ruth says shortly. Bettina asks who gets to eulogize about Fiona's "penchant for ushering young boys into manhood?" "That was once," Sarah snaps, drinking straight from the wine bottle, and Bettina says that's the one thing she really admired Fiona for. Claire notices that the original table is back, and Ruth says, "The old table just didn't make any sense in here. George has it. He moved out, but I don't want to discuss it." She ignores Claire's "Say what?" face (which is actually visible from orbit), saying that Sarah needs them now. Sarah asks how Claire is. Claire says she had to start temping (ignoring Ruth's own "say what?" face), saying it's only until she hears back on the emerging artist grant. And then she reaches into her shopping bag and pulls out the brand-new, periwinkle business suit she bought for her new gig. Sarah and Bettina react with undisguised horror. Okay, maybe it's funny to stick Claire in pastels, but I have a hard time believing that the ladies' suit store didn't have a damn thing in royal purple or puke green.
Billy's sitting at Nate and Brenda's dining room table, reading aloud to Brenda from email exchanges between him and Claire. Nate comes out to announce that Maya is down for the evening (See? They got rid of the kid before this scene even started!), as Billy goes on to share one of Claire's responses, and insists on reading a sarcastic "sadly" as a sincerely regretful "sadly." Billy wouldn't last ten seconds in our forums in his current state. Brenda and Nate look sad that Billy is in their house bugging them with this. Billy gets ready to read some IM transcripts and Brenda wails, "No!" Billy asks Nate if he's asked what Claire's thinking. "Clearly she's moved on," Nate says impatiently. "To be honest with you, the only reason that I'm dealing with you is because you're here and you're not out there stalking my sister." Billy apologizes and says he's back on his meds, but it's going to take a while to get rebalanced and breakups are hard for anyone. He starts to use his hosts as an example, but Brenda's sharp "Billypleasedon't" cuts him off almost instantly. I wish Nate would ask her about that later. Billy apologizes again and steals some ice cream from the freezer, saying he'll leave as soon as he watches something on their TiVo. "And I won't call her," he finishes. Well, no, I imagine it'll be kind of late by then.
By now, Sarah's put enough of a dent in that bottle of wine to put her in a state to say, "I killed her. I killed my best friend." Bettina and Ruth tell her she's wrong, and Ruth reminds Sarah that she always says everything happens for a reason. Which sends Sarah off on a rant about all the evil in the world (war, tsunamis, legless grandmothers, Bush reelections), of which she is but one manifestation. "Sarah, no!" Ruth says, but Bettina whispers to let her sister go. Patricia Clarkson didn't get her Oscar, you see, so now she's going for her Emmy. Sarah says it was her idea to go hiking, and she practically dragged Fiona along, even when Fiona declined twice. "What am I, the Antichrist?" She sobs that someone should lock her up or throw her in a hole, and settles down for a good wail. Fade to white/really long night.
In David and Keith's breakfast nook the morning, Anthony and Durrell open a present from David: it's a PlayStation 2 with Gran Turismo 4. David must have heard somewhere that that's a big game in the "urban market." The gift is obviously a surprise to Keith, who glances over sharply. The kids run off to hook it up while David reminds them they have school in ten minutes. Good timing, David. It'll take them nine minutes to figure out how to hook it up, one minute to get the game going, and they'll spend the entire day at school all excited and distracted. Keith looks at David with annoyance and confusion. "It's just a PlayStation," David says. "All kids have them." You know what's the only thing worse than no commercials? Commercials I have to recap because they're part of the show. Keith objects to the implied message that the kids deserve a prize, "when clearly they don't." David says it's just something fun. "Yeah, good times," says Keith. "That's your answer to everything, Miss Pollyanna." David says he's just trying to make everyone happy. Keith says maybe David should stop trying to make everyone happy and start-- "Oh, shut the fuck up," David snaps. Well, that's a beginning.
It's Claire's first day at work in a high-rise cube farm. Not that there's a window even visible from where she's sitting. She's got on her periwinkle suit over a pink blouse with a sort of built-in cravat like your mom used to wear, and her hair's in an oh-so-professional ponytail. And yes, it turns out that it is funny to stick Claire in pastels. The perky woman sitting across from her passes a birthday card over the low cube wall, insisting that Claire sign it, even though Claire doesn't know the birthday girl. "She won't even read it," offers another drone. "Last year I signed it Hitler? She never said a word." Other Drone then asks the approaching sweater-vested nerd if he's met Claire yet. "Yeah, baby," the Nerd Drone says. "Whassaaap?" I smell workplace violence. Claire answers that she's trying to sign the card, but the Other Drone tells Claire, "He has Tourette's. You just have to say it back to him." Claire does, embarrassed for everyone in the room. Then Perky Cubemate hisses at Claire to give back the card, since the birthday girl's coming. "You can sign it later," Perky Cubemate whispers. Claire is just a big periwinkle-and-pink mass of "whatever."
Ruth is on the phone with George, saying she won't be "home" for a few days and making sure he has enough food in the house. As she finishes up, Sarah comes down the stairs and asks, "Was I frothing like an idiot last night?" Well, yeah. She blames the red wine, and says she doesn't even remember what she said. "You were blaming yourself," says Ruth. Now Sarah remembers. "I don't know why I do that. It's so narcissistic, you know." Ruth smirks a little at that. You can totally tell she's thinking, Asked and answered. Sarah continues, "I am the asshole at the center of the universe," and continues on a philosophical little close-talk about the vastness of the universe until a bunch of Sarah's and Fiona's friends come in. One of them is a woman who I think ended up getting a bunch of Bettina's lines because Kathy Bates was sick during the filming of this episode. So I'm just going to call her Bet-two-na. She introduces everyone, including Susie Bright, "the feminist sex writer." Who is of course being played by feminist sex writer Susie Bright. "You don't have to introduce me that way," says Susie Bright. Nate comes in, and Ruth says, "Nate, honey, come meet Susie Bright." They shake hands. "She's a sex writer," adds Ruth. Heh. While the other ladies unpack hippie groceries, Sarah says Bettina will be there after she finishes up at Costco, "Buying hummus by the metric ton." Bet-two-na asks for the whole story, mentioning that she heard that Fiona didn't even want to go on the hike: "Someone pushed her into it?" Sarah's philosophical armor seems to weaken a little at this.
While walking down to the basement, Nate does a good-husband thing, which is to immediately call Brenda and ask if she knows who Susie Bright is. Brenda's naturally a big fan. Of Susie Bright's, I mean, not of Nate's. Nate comments that "there's a bunch of women over here just whooping it up. One of those 'Our Dead Friend Would Have Wanted Us to Be Happy So Let's Make Her Funeral An Excuse For A Big Sloppy Party' deals." You'd think Nate would have a catchier name for that by now. Brenda asks if she can join them, and Nate guesses she just wants to meet Susie Bright. "And get away from Mr. Chenowith, who's here again," she whispers as her brother walks by and yoinks a snack right out of her hand. At this point, Nate's paused outside the door to the Body Shop, which he enters after he gets off the phone. "Whoa," he says at the sight of Fiona laid out on the table, naked from the waist up and sporting a fashionable Y incision. "Yep, first woman you ever slept with," David remarks. Rico's surprised to hear it. "Bet you never thought you'd see her naked again," David says, in the soft tone of a man who can't resist making a tasteless comment even though he knows it's tasteless. Rico feels no such constraints, however, and asks Nate, "How'd she hold up? What's the difference on her twenty years later?" Nate glares at Rico, then answers, "In case you haven't noticed, she's all bruised and busted up, you fucking idiot." And he draws the sheet up over Fiona's face while David looks at Rico like, "That was kind of tasteless, dude."
It's 2:20 at Claire's office, going by the clock on the wall. Claire's Perky Cubemate asks, "May I hug you?" "Okay," Claire whispers nervously. The Cubemate gets up, walks around, and hugs Claire while she's still in her chair. She says this was her after-school job years ago, "and I just fell in love with the place. The Monday after I graduated from college, I came back and I said, 'Put me to work!' It really is very special." Claire just stares unhappily, sitting like an old woman with her hand braced against her lower back until Cubemate says, "What's the matter, Claire? Is it Kirsten? Is she being a butt?" Heh. No, it turns out that it's Claire's pantyhose, which apparently she's never worn before, and thus isn't used to having her torso constricted. Cubemate asks if she's tried a different brand. Claire says it's not the brand; they're all the same (no pantyhose commercials this week, at least). "I don't understand how having your legs sheathed in this like smooth plastic Barbie leg, like, encased in a sausage casing would help you do your job better." She also points out the inherent sexism of the regulation. "Men have to wear ties," Cubemate says. Claire: "Right, but they don't suffocate you. And it's not on their penis." Since I've never worn pantyhose (and haven't worn a tie in quite a while either), I'm not really in a position to tell Claire to shut up. I'm fully prepared to agree that pantyhose are a fairly ridiculous social construction. But of course it's not about the pantyhose; the pantyhose are just a metaphor for the stifling atmosphere of a nine-to-five job, which of course Claire's never had before. At 21. So shut up, Claire. "I'm gonna go wash out some mugs," says Temporarily Less Perky Cubemate.
Vanessa's new nanny is dancing and singing "Brick House" (badly) to a video camera that's being manned by Julio. "Are you guys making a movie?" Vanessa asks as she comes in the front door in her work clothes. Donna says she's making an audition tape for Survivor. "I got the whole foreign thing going for me, being from Canada and all." Except don't you have to be a U.S. citizen to get on the show? Whatever. She'd have to do "Brick House" a lot better, too. Donna sends Julio scampering off to the kitchen, directs Vanessa to a chair, and has her put her feet up. Julio quickly returns with a snack and a glass of juice for his mom. Vanessa thanks them both. Donna says she sympathizes, since her own mom was a single mom with a total flake for a daughter. "It's not only twice as hard without a man, it's, like, exponentially harder," Donna comments. She asks if Rico was good to her. Vanessa says, "Yes, he was good to me. And then he was really bad to me." But he was always really short.
Over at David and Keith's, Anthony's crying because Durrell has already broken their new PlayStation by opening up the case. This is why people with kids should keep their screwdrivers locked up. And, ideally, Durrell. As Keith comes in, Durrell says, "It wouldn't let me get to level two so I had to fix it." Yeah, he fixed it good. There's nothing on the TV screen but static. Kid's lucky he didn't electrocute himself, cracking it open when it was plugged in like that. "What the hell did you do, Durrell?" Keith grits, and Durrell stands up and yells, "It broke! Okay? I broke it! Why did you have to buy us a present that you knew was gonna break?" There's just…so much wrong with that question, and life is so short. Keith yells at Durrell for opening the machine: "I'd have gotten it fixed had you only waited." "Why does everything always have to get ruined?" Anthony complains, and Keith looks sympathetic at that until Durrell kicks the remains of the console and gets up in Keith's face, saying, "Everything was already ruined from the time we had to move into this stupid gay house!" Ooh, that's torn it. Keith tells Durrell he's going to his room, and grabs the kid by the arm to drag him away. Anthony, acting out of loyalty to the brother who's probably the one always ruining everything, leaps at Keith, yelling, "Let go of him! I hate you!" Of course, this seething mass of angry humanity is what David comes home to. "What the hell is going on?" David demands as Keith throws the kids into their bedroom and holds the door shut. "You're locking them in a room?" David asks in horror. "More violence, that's what you want to show them here?" "Discipline and violence are not the same thing," Keith says. The kids are still pulling and beating on the door, yelling homophobic epithets at Keith. David says Keith is insane right now. "Let go of the door or I'll tell DCFS!" Durrell yells. And here's where Keith crosses the line, I think. He yells, "You think anybody over there gives a shit about you?" Way to play on what I'm sure are already some severe abandonment issues. Then he lets go of the doorknob. The kids go flying back into the room as the door opens. "You did that to yourselves," he yells at them. David looks horrified and sickened. And he doesn't even know yet that he's going to have to go right back out and buy another PlayStation.
Claire's Cubemate is listening to a Muzak version of "You Light Up My Life," and Claire is, to my horror, humming along under her breath. After a couple of lines, she starts making up her own words. "…Could it be actually / wearing these clothes." She scratches under her skirt and picks up her stapler. "I've never been / This fucking uncomfortable…" She sings into the stapler like a microphone and climbs up on the desk, singing in full voice, "Never again to wear pantyhose" and pulling out her ponytail as the lights go down and the music comes up. Of course, everyone's a kick-ass performer in their daydreams, and Claire's no exception. She sings the hell out of this chorus, with dramatic choreography and everything: "'Cause youuu / Ride up my thighs / You're tight on my ass / You climb up my crotch / You ruin my day / And fill my soul…you fill my soul with haaaate." Damn, girlfriend's got a set of pipes on her. All the other drones are now gathered beneath her, waving lit cigarette lighters. "It can't be right / When they feel so tight…" And as she winds up for the big finish ("'Cause you and you and youuuu…"), Cubemate snaps her out of it by asking her if she needs to turn her music down. The music fades as we see Claire just sitting there, rocking gently and holding the stapler near her face in a sort of "I could be singing into this, or maybe I'm just casually holding it to my head" position. "Yeah, maybe a little, thanks," Claire says, and staples the living fuck out of something. And somewhere, Paul Abdul claps like a seal.
George gets a little housewarming visit from Maggie just as he's getting the tea on. At least I think it's Maggie; she's wearing a white shirt instead of a blue one, but she's being played by the same actor and George seems to recognize her. A little later, she comes out of the bathroom asking where Ruth keeps her nail lotion. Oh, I don't know, maybe at HOME? George says he doesn't know. Maggie remarks that the only stuff in the bathroom is his. "Maybe she took it with her," George pretends to guess, even though he saw her leave empty-handed. "To go where?" Maggie asks. And, looking around at all the unpacked boxes, "When did you move in?" George: "Two days ago. Stop being so nosy." Maggie says he relies on Ruth to take care of him. "We're fine," George insists. "The only reason I'm alone is that Ruth's sister was involved in some sort of fatal accident. Apparently she's being blamed for it. And Ruth, caretaker that she is, is by her side. Apparently she's quite distraught."
Wow, the Ironic Segue Fairy sure has a lot of friends, and they're all laughing. And one of them is Ruth, sitting with her hair flowing free and looking a lot like her sister. Man, getting Patricia Clarkson was some good casting. Brenda's only the second-youngest person in the room; she's holding Maya on her lap. The women are all sitting around the table and talking about what aging feminists always talk about on TV, which is the obsolescence of men. No argument here. Sarah says she's been wanting to have an all-woman weekend on her property. Ruth happily calls for an all-woman year and an all-woman forever, to loud cheers. Sarah says she's got twenty acres she's not even using (in Southern California? Are all of those acres vertical?) and they can buy yurts off the internet. Bet-two-na says they can all midwife Brenda's baby into a horse trough. Maya, sitting in Brenda's lap, laughs and shakes her head at her stepmom, all, "These bitches crazy." Bettina says she can feed them all: "We'll only eat what I can grow or kill," Bettina says. Ruth says they can start this weekend. "But we must enforce the no men part." Enter Nate, to raucous howls. "I'm just here to pick up my kid," he says in a mock-conciliatory tone. Bettina loves it: "We use the men for child care, like they've done to us for a gazillion years!" As Maya reaches desperately for her dad to get her the hell out of there, Brenda whispers to him, "I'm moving to an all-girl commune. But don't worry; I'll sneak you in when they're asleep." She asks if Nate minds if she stays, and Nate says it's no problem and leaves with his daughter. Everyone says bye, and the kid's barely out of the room when Bettina leans forward and says, "Okay, who's got weed?" How long has she been holding that in? "I think I know where I've got some," says -- you'll never guess -- Ruth. She gets up and leaves the table while Sarah and Bettina grin at each other in amazement.
Bedtime at David and Keith's. Presumably the kids are already in bed. I say this because David and Keith spend this entire scene emphatically whispering things that under other circumstances they would be yelling at each other. David's sitting up awake in bed when Keith comes in and growls, "I'm done." David tensely says, "With your flossing, or…?" "With the kids," Keith snaps. David says the kids aren't a pair of slippers that Keith can return if they don't fit. But Keith says that's the whole point of foster care, to see what works. "And this? Is definitely not working." David says they're just getting started, but Keith says two weeks is "more than enough time to know. We should stop before they bond to us." David says he's already bonded. Keith says David is turning into his mother, running around and saying everything's going to be okay. David comes back by accusing Keith of turning into his father; "you solve everything with a beating." Keith says he didn't touch them, and David says he was close. "Exactly," says Keith. "That's why when the social worker comes tomorrow, I'll be explaining to her that this is a bad match. We should pack their things in the morning." Keith starts to get into bed, and David, furious, gets out of it. "How can you just abandon them when their little lives have already been filled with so much trauma?" And he grabs his pillow to leave the room. Keith says, "Good, so now you abandon me? That solves everything." David gives Keith a dirty look, but doesn't slow down. Maybe these two should have had a discussion in advance about how they were actually going to parent, instead of spending all their time talking about prongs.
How many times do they have to put Maya to bed in an episode, anyway? Nate's just finishing tucking his daughter in when his cell phone rings. He hurries to get out of the room and answer it before it wakes up Maya. It's Maggie, calling from her parked car somewhere. "Heeey," Nate Tribbianis. "I was just putting Maya to sleep." Maggie asks if Nate has seen Ruth. "Ummm, why do you ask?" Nate responds carefully. Maggie says she was just at George's apartment and Ruth is neither there nor answering the phone at the house. Nate says smoothly, "Huh. Well, I, uh." Maggie interrupts to ask Nate to do something for her, and she'll do the same for him. "Never lie to me. Okay?" And with that earnestly sincere request, Maggie, whom Nate barely knows, succeeds in getting him to roll over on the woman who gave birth to him. He says Ruth's at the house. "It's just a bunch of women," he says. "They're having a little party, but she's fine. If there's a problem with your dad, she didn't tell me about it." Maggie says okay. Nate, unable to shut up, adds, "You know, Brenda's over there too; it's just me and Maya here." He sort of cringes as soon as it's out of his mouth, like he didn't realize how that would sound until he got done saying it. I'd like to think that Nate's not that obvious when he's not full of tequila, and that he's just pointing out that there's nothing sinister about a girls' night out. But I'm not really convinced. Maggie doesn't say anything to that, but somehow manages to react anyway with an ambiguous head tilt. Around his mouthful of foot, Nate asks if Maggie is okay. "I'm fine. I'll see you soon, I hope," she says, and hangs up before he can respond. He'd probably end up saying something stupid like "We just embalmed someone who looked a lot like you when she was younger" anyway.
Ruth's gone up to the Claire to raid her daughter's weed stash. Claire stumps in in her high heels and pantyhose and periwinkle suit to find Ruth sitting on the bed and examining a little baggie. Ruth pleasantly invites Claire to change her clothes and join them downstairs. Claire suspiciously wonders why her room has been invaded by this strange woman with her mother's face. But she doesn't know who Susie Bright is either, so that's okay. Ruth says they all thought a little doob might "ease the pain of the loss." "I guess you found it," says Claire. Ruth asks the difference between the brown and the green weed. Claire thinks a moment, then takes the bag Ruth's holding and gives her one of those tiny little CSI-sized envelopes that in Alan Ball world means "the good stuff." And in the real world, for all I know. "Do you guys have papers?" Claire asks. "We were actually hoping for a bong," Ruth answers. Claire hands one over, asking, "You know you have to put water in that, right?" "Bettina knows," Ruth says. The uncomfortable (for Claire) moment stretches out, until Ruth gently says, "Oh, honey. I don't hate you." Claire softens some more. "I don't hate you either, Mom," she says. Ruth says that Claire's so much like herself. I don't know, I think Claire's a lot better at breaking up with people. Ruth says, "If you give up your dreams and it's my fault, I'll never forgive myself." Claire says Ruth was right about Claire needing to support herself, which she will "as soon as the grant comes through." Don't hold your breath, Claire. Any more than the pantyhose are already making you hold it, I mean. "Promise me you'll be who you want to be," Ruth says. Claire finishes melting and goes in for a hug, complete with an exchange of "I love you"s. "You look so corporate," Ruth says when they split. "You look so not corporate," Claire responds. Ruth waves the pot baggie and the bong and repeats her invitation. Claire says she just wants to take off her "hot dog suit" and take a bath and be naked. "If I put anything else on with a waistband, I'm just gonna cry." She goes into the bathroom to start undressing, and Ruth leaves the scene. As, sadly, so do we. Whether you want to read that as a sincere "sadly" or a sarcastic "sadly" is entirely up to you.
Nate's at home alone watching Beyond Borders, and the short snippet we see doesn't make me feel any more regretful about having missed it. He hops up jauntily from the couch to answer the knock on the door, like he's hoping it's his stepsibling. But instead it's his sibling-in-law. Without a word, Billy walks in and flops down morosely into Nate's spot on the sofa.
Cut to a little later, when Nate has apparently given up on Beyond Borders and is now just channel-surfing. Billy is still talking about how much he misses Claire. "I felt like she was my first real love. I know she's just a kid, but we were kids together." Billy sighs and settles back. Nate turns off the TV and leans back in a similar posture. "My first love just died," he says to the ceiling. "I was fifteen when I met her. She was 32." Even Billy blinks at that. "Whoa," he says. Yeah, Billy, we realize the figures don't hold up. Fiona would have had to be born in 1948 instead of 1952 to be 32 in 1980, when Nate was 15. Math is hard. Nate recalls that everyone thought Fiona had "done something" to him. Well, she may have had something to do with the fact that you grew up to be such a man-slut. He says that before Fiona, he'd been fooling around with girls his own age, "But Fiona let me see all of her. And I just loved her." Nate says he wrote letters, some of which rhymed, and now figures she laughed when she read them. "I doubt she laughed," Billy says seriously and supportively. Looks like what Billy really needed to get snapped out of his bout of self-pity was to have to deal with someone else's. And of course Nate's always good for a heaping helping of that. Nate says, "Love isn't something you feel, it's something you do. And if the person you're with doesn't want it, you know, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does." You suppose he would say the same thing to Brenda?
Ruth has led her fellow partygoers down to the Body Shop, where they're all gathered around the draped corpse of Fiona. "We've all been conditioned not to touch the dead," Ruth says as she draws down the sheet, "but it's okay." "You look good, babe," Bettina says, now that Fiona's all made up for her funeral. Sarah bends down and kisses Fiona on the forehead and whispers, "I love you." Ruth gently adds, "I forgive you, Fiona, for deflowering my boy." "She's the one," Brenda breathes. Ruth says Nate was only 15, as Brenda already knew. Susie Bright, after finishing sucking on the bong in the background, passes it to Brenda, who passes it along to Sarah without indulging. Although I suspect the Nate-us is going to be picking up a nice secondhand buzz anyway. After Sarah takes a hit, she passes it to Ruth, who carefully takes her first puff EVER. It's filmed like a sacrament, but with fake CGI smoke for some reason when she exhales. I guess the real smoke didn't show up well enough on film in the dimly lit room. Sarah begins softly singing "Calling All Angels," and the others (save Ruth) quickly join in. It's a good thing they've banished men, because the only "Calling All Angels" I know is by the band Train and it's an entirely different song from this one. The sound of an orchestra rises in the background, which cues a montage over the singing:
George lies on his couch in the dark in his clothes, alone, not drilling anything.
Maggie sits in her parked car, alone. Would the engine not start? I suppose, under the circumstances, it would have been awkward for her to have asked Nate for a jump.
Nate lies in bed alone without his first love, his wife, his stepsister, or a shirt.
Claire sits in her chair wet-haired and wrapped in a towel, slumped limply as if she was dropped there from a great height.
We don't see David lying alone on the sofa, or Keith lying alone in their bed. That's probably because they're doing that thing when they have make-up sex without actually making up.
Ruth starts singing the counterpoint in what turns out to be a wavery soprano. So that's another way she's different from Claire. Fade to white.
morning, Fisher kitchen. Sarah's already sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, looking depressed and hung-over for the second morning in a row. Poor Claire only has one set of business clothes, looks like, because she's wearing the same outfit she wore yesterday. The only people I know who wear the same clothes every day are cartoons. She gets herself some coffee, joins her aunt at the table, and shuffles through the mail. Claire excitedly sees the envelope from the grant commission, and rips it open. Sarah compliments Claire's look as she unfolds her letter. "Sexy, like a business lady," Sarah says. And that's the last good news Claire's going to get in this scene, because she got turned down for the grant. "Those dicks. Let me see that," Sarah snaps. She looks at the letter and then tosses it back, saying, "Oh, well. There'll be another one." Claire buries her face in her hands at the prospect of her escape from her pantyhose being postponed indefinitely. Don't worry, Claire; I'm sure Sarah will say something incredibly supportive now. "Maybe you're not an artist," Sarah says. Okay, I was wrong. Claire acts pissed and hurt. "Did it hurt your feelings when I said it?" Sarah asks. When Claire huffs that it did, Sarah says that maybe that means she's right: "Maybe if you were an artist, you'd have laughed when I said that. Like if you told me I was purple, I would laugh because I know I'm not purple." Yeah, and maybe if Claire told you you were a murderer three days ago, you would have laughed at that, too. Don't read too much into a reaction that comes immediately after the person gets some discouraging news, is all I'm saying. Claire: "You're the one that took me by my shoulders and looked me in my eyes and told me that I was an artist." As Claire gets up to storm off, Sarah calmly says she doesn't actually know one way or the other. "Nobody can tell anyone what to do. Least of all me. That's the good news." Okay, so I was wrong. There was more good news for Claire after all. Also, Sarah? You're bringing me down. Get out of the house, you'll feel better. Go on a hike or something.
Vanessa's not at all happy to come home from working the night shift and see a homeless man perched on the edge of her sofa. "How do you do?" he asks politely. Donna comes out of the kitchen stirring a bowl of pancake batter, explaining, "That's Mr. Clarington…He's homeless. I was coming out of Trader Joe's and he was hungry so I was just going to make him a few pancakes. I know it's not a great meal, but --" Vanessa asks about the boys, and when Donna says they're at school, Mr. Clarington senses the tension in the room and starts getting up to leave. "You cannot bring strange people home," Vanessa hisses. "This isn't Canada." People do that in Canada? I'm totally moving up there if I ever end up homeless. Mr. Clarington's out the door, saying he never meant to cause trouble. "Never ever come back here!" Vanessa yells at him. Donna's scandalized. And then she's fired. Vanessa says she needed someone to help her, not make audition videos and bring in homeless people. Vanessa tells her to pack and leave right now. Donna sadly says she has nowhere to go. Vanessa doesn't care. Near tears, Donna says, "If I get something from Survivor, can you forward it to me?" Vanessa gapes at her before managing to say yes. Donna takes her pancake batter back into the kitchen. I guess the time we see her, she'll be Miss Alli's problem.
Over at David and Keith's, the kids are roughhousing. Rassling. Getting up to some tomfoolery. Cutting up didos. I have no way of saying that that doesn't make me sound like someone's grandfather. David is trying to restore some order in the living room before the Social Worker arrives. There's a knock at the door. "Wait one second before you open that!" David tells Keith. Keith doesn't even wait that long. The Social Worker comes in, cell phone clapped to her melon and handling what appears to be a stressful call, which, if possible, just adds to the level of chaos in the room. After she hangs up, she apologizes to Keith and David. Keith begins, "The boys are not doing well. Not at all." Social Worker's phone goes off, but decides to ignore it as Keith tries to explain the problem. David leaves off trying to separate the boys and trips across the room to say they really just need her feedback. She says she does actually have to take the call she's been trying to ignore, and tells her caller she's almost done with David and Keith. "Will that be it then?" she asks them, after having spared them a total of five seconds of her attention. Keith finally manages to say that he's not sure they're the right match. Hearing that, Durrell stops beating on his brother and starts paying attention. Because I guess he thought Keith was such a big fan of his until now. Social Worker says, "I have never seen these boys doing better. They're flourishing." Keith: "Flourishing?!" David says that's what he thought. Social Worker heads out of there, ignoring Keith's protests. David shows her to the door and walks back over to the now-sullen kids, smirking triumphantly at his partner as he strolls past. Keith bitches, "You know, David, just pretending that something is working doesn't mean it's actually working." David sits with them and tells them everything's going to be okay. Which I bet means he's going to dump Keith. But not this week, because they're done for this episode.
Claire's back at her cube, and someone's made her a little hand-drawn "C. Fisher" nametag for her cube wall. Other Drone asks if Claire's heard from Personnel yet. I believe it's called Human Resources these days. But I don't expect that to be understood by a writer who's also never taken a typing test. "If you have, like, half a brain they'll offer you something permanent," Other Drone chirps. Claire's Perky Cubemate asks if Claire got her present. Claire thinks she means "the e-card with the dancing puppies" ("Yeah, baby," says Nerd Drone for no reason), but Cubemate means her old bathroom pass. Tremendously reluctant to accept even this tiny symbolic token of her assimilation into the corporate hive, Claire tries to decline. But Cubemate insists. "You're gonna love it here, Claire, you really are." Everyone smiles at her. She looks like that's what worries her.
Look at all the aging hippies! It's Fiona's viewing already, and the Fisher & Diaz chapel is draped with Tibetan prayer flags and, as previously mentioned, aging hippies. At the back of the room, Rico gets a call on his cell phone and tells Vanessa that sure, he can pick up the kids. And then he shoots a questioning look at Nate, who just heard him tell Vanessa he's on his way. Rico's such a weasel. Nate waves Rico off, sadly failing to call him a fucking idiot again. Exit the weasel.
Nate approaches his mom, whose hair is still down but not completely free, to tell her he's going to take Fiona to the crematorium. Ruth tells Nate that Fiona will appreciate that, completely missing the real sadness on Nate's face, and therefore failing to understand that Nate's not just doing it for Fiona. And thus Billy remains the only character who really understands how much Nate's affected by this. After he moves on, Ruth grabs the arm of Bet-two-na, who just happens to be passing by. She learns that Sarah's already left, and she asks when they're all going up to Topanga for the all-woman commune…weekend…thing. Bet-two-na just looks confused, then laughs, not entirely unkindly. But a little unkindly. Ruth gets it. "Oh, we were joking," she says. Bet-two-na touches Ruth's arm and leaves without another word. Ruth sighs at what a doofus she is and how she's not escaping her workaday life after all. Well, at least she's still got George, right?
Vanessa's doorbell rings. The Federiquitos come in and she sends them off to get ready for their bath, because they've already been in this scene for, like, a whole second. Rico follows the kids inside, his tiny frame bowed under the weight of a giant water jug on his shoulder. He clearly has no idea how significant that is to Vanessa. Vanessa folds her arms and watches him put it down. Thinking he's still in trouble, he turns to leave without a word, but stops abruptly when she asks, "You wanna move back in?" Vanessa explains emotionlessly that she was thinking about it and Rico's right. Rico's amazed; nobody ever tells him he's right. "Wow! Yeah! Thank you so much, Vanessa." She nods and says she's starting dinner, so Rico can do the kids' baths and they'll eat in twenty minutes. Rico excitedly agrees, and carries the water bottle off to the kitchen with such a spring in his step that I suspect the prop people replaced it with an empty one during the close-ups. Vanessa just stands there looking nervous about what she's just gotten herself into.
Ruth, holding a laden canvas tote bag and wearing her hair back in its usual bun, knocks on the door of number 314. George answers. He steps out into the hallway and frowns a chilly "Hello" down at her. Ruth says she brought the pots and pans, and George says he followed her suggestion and went to Crate & Barrel and "bought myself another set." He says he's figured it out. "None of your furniture is here, you only brought one change of clothing, no toiletries." Slick, Ruth. I thought she was going to hang out for at least a few weeks; she could have at least created the illusion that she wasn't just parking George there. Plus she knocked on the door of what is supposed to be her own home. I wonder if Maggie told George what Nate told her? I also kind of wonder if it matters. Ruth tries to point out that she brought her soap. George impatiently says that they shouldn't waste any more of each other's time: "I get it. You want to leave me. But first you want to make sure that I have everything that I need, which is very kind and thoughtful as you always were." Ruth starts to say something, and he sadly says it's okay. And that he's starting back at work this semester. "Thanks to you, I have my new apartment, and my pots…my pans. So thank you." Actually, he bought his own damn pots and pans. Ruth looks eighty-seven kinds of busted, and guilty, and shitty-feeling. "I loved you," George says. "You loved me. That was a good thing. Now it's changed. Consider yourself free." And he steps back into his apartment and closes the door in her face. That'll do, Cromwell. Ruth just stands there, shocked, until the bag of pots and pans hits the floor. Man, Nate's never going to get anywhere with Maggie now.