The Corpse of the Week scene doesn't even try to fake us out any more these days. Like this week -- a dog-walker gets hit by a car while Rollerblading. It's clear from the opening shot that that's what's going to happen, and that is indeed what ends up happening. You want more detail? Fine: this woman is Rollerblading through a subdivision up in the Hollywood hills somewhere while chatting with a friend on her hands-free cell phone. She's got three big dogs on leashes, and she mentions having to feed a cat later, so we know this is her job. So you think she'd know better than to be skating along in the middle of the street like she is, regardless of the present lack of traffic. She finds herself at the top of a hill which she describes over the phone as "really, really steep." And although she realizes she should take off her skates and walk down, she says, "Call you right back," and takes off down the hill as the dogs hurry to keep up. The road curves to the left and we see it from her point of view, but as if she were wearing blinders and a neck brace because the camera's locked straight ahead. She laughs joyfully, all King Of The World. Finally they reach the bottom and she pants, "Now we're safe!" Right on cue, a car comes out of nowhere and creams her ass. The stuntwoman (or dummy) does a great job of bouncing off the hood and the windshield and crashing to the pavement. The three dogs -- all of whom actually are safe -- slowly approach the body and start barking as we hear the driver get out of his car and scream for help. And Pilar Sandoval (1970-2005) serves as a cautionary tale that high-speed Rollerblading and a freakishly narrow field of vision just don't mix.
Brenda's in her OB's examination room, all ready on the table with a pink sheet draped over her lap. And what's Nate doing? Well, Nate's not there -- Brenda's boss Jackie is. Brenda bitches about Nate's plan to drag her to a Quaker church service that night. Jackie's a little incredulous. Brenda says Nate's done with couples therapy, since they went once and he felt ganged up on (which, I don't know, could be a sign of something, like Nate being WRONG a lot). Jackie says it might help, but Brenda's doubtful, and adds that she wishes Nate would take as much interest in his baby as he does in Quakerism. Jackie points out that Brenda should have made it clear to Nate that she wanted him at the appointment. Which is when Brenda confesses that she didn't want Nate at the appointment -- in fact, she didn't even tell him about it. "I didn't want him here," she says. "It's not good for me, it's not good for the baby." "Huh," says Jackie doubtfully. It's nice to see that Jackie is starting to develop a more healthy level of sympathy for Brenda, i.e., none.
The OB enters the room for the exam. As Brenda lies to the doctor about Nate not being able to get away from work, the doctor squirts the sonic goo on Brenda's belly and begins the scan. She hears a strong heartbeat and says that everything looks to be developing normally, although she still wants Brenda to have an amniocentesis. Brenda's still refusing, because we have to stretch out the suspense as long as possible. "Do you want to know the baby's sex?" the OB asks. Oh, come on, doctor, don't you realize by now that Brenda wants to be surprised? By everything? You're lucky she let you tell her there's a human being in there and not an opossum or a carburetor or something.
Looks like Durrell and Anthony finally get to meet some other characters. I was wondering if this storyline was ever going to intersect with any of the others. School's out today, and David and Keith didn't apparently didn't know about it until it was too late to take the day off themselves, so they're getting Ruth set up for a day of babysitting at their place (presumably because God knows what sort of nightmare shit Durrell could get into at the funeral home) and the two foster dads are being total stressballs with all the contact numbers and instructions and so forth. Ruth assures them that everything will be fine. David says the kids are allowed one hour of TV, one hour of PlayStation (so he did buy them a new one, the pushover), and they can take their soccer ball out to the courtyard as long as they don't bounce it against the building. Ruth shoos the dads off. David hugs Anthony, then Durrell. Keith hugs Anthony, then claps Durrell on the shoulder. Durrell doesn't fail to notice the slight, although he doesn't say anything. The two dads leave, having forgotten to give Ruth the most important piece of information she should have, which is that Durrell is kind of an asshole. "You look like a witch," Durrell tells Ruth. Okay, now she's up to speed. Are we actually supposed to believe that this is the first time Ruth has met her new foster grandchildren in the months they've been around? And forget David's lame excuse about trying to get the kids on a "regular schedule." My kid spent his first couple of weeks of life hooked up to machines in a hospital where he wasn't allowed to have more than four other people in the room, and my mom met him within twenty-four hours. But then, unlike Ruth, my mom isn't a total flake.
Claire drives her green hearse into the parking garage at work, and has trouble finding a parking spot as she listens to Air America radio. Finally she squeezes into a spot so tight that she can't open either of the car's front doors. So she climbs over the back seat to exit via the rear door. I've done that in my station wagon more than once. In fact, it's part of the reason I drive a station wagon. Naturally, Lawyer Ted is waiting for the elevator as this happens. As the door opens, he looks behind him and happens to spot a woman in business clothes hopping out the back of a lime-green hearse some distance away. He hurries into the elevator so he doesn't have to share a ride with the freak, just before Claire wipes her hair out of her face and looks in his direction. He seems to recognize her at the last second before the elevator door closes in front of him. Claire curses -- now she's been embarrassed in front of her workplace crush, and she's going to have to wait that much longer for the elevator to come back.
Nate is busy doing the intake for the Corpse of the Week, whose parents don't speak English. Bad idea. He's struggling manfully to keep up by riffling through a Spanish phrase book, and it takes him a minute to figure out that they're saying "polished." "Polished what?" Nate asks. "I don't know what you're talking about." Clearly, since his handling of this so far is the opposite of polished.The aging, Spanish-speaking couple looks at each other in frustration and doubt. ¿Dónde está Rico? Reading my mind, and sensing that he's losing them rápidamente, Nate gives up and says, "Por favor, un momento."
Of course, you can't ask Rico for help without Rico making you pay for it. Down in the Body Shop, he acts like a pissy bitch as Nate defensively explains that he's trying to learn Spanish and the Sandovals were a walk-in. Rico asks what he's supposed to do with the Corpse of the Week, who's already hooked up to the embalming machine. "You wanna take over? Ohhh, that's right, you can't." He snottily takes the folder from Nate, who says he already did most of the work. Rico looks at the paperwork and browbeats Nate for letting the parents make the decisions when he wasn't sure of the deceased's marital status. Looks like somebody's taking out his domestic frustrations out in his professional arena. Rico, don't you know you've got that backwards?
My Spanish isn't any better than Nate's, but we can both understand what's going on a bit later when Rico walks the bereaved parents to the front door and they exchange whatever the plural of gracias is. They're no sooner gone when Nate accuses Rico of overselling. And indeed, the first four items on the list total eight grand. Nate doesn't think the parents can afford everything Rico sold them. Rico condescends, "Besides learning to mangle a few words in Spanish, maybe you should learn a little something about Latin culture as well. We honor our dead, Nate." "And end up broke because of it," Nate answers, which Rico calls "so fucking racist." Nate argues that Rico is the one who brought up culture. Rather than pointing out the difference between culture and socioeconomic status, Rico angrily explains that everyone in the family chips in for funerals. "We take care of each other. No one's left broke." He stomps off to finish embalming his client, presumably with the expensive imported stuff that's extracted from the pituitary glands of Madagascarian unicorns.
David's spending his morning touring a crematory, whose aging proprietor is hoping to sell it to him for $340,000. "You don't want Fisher & Sons to get left behind," Cremator Guy says. "Uh, Fisher & Diaz," David corrects. Cremator Guy says he has another prospective buyer, but "I'd be pleased to pass it on to the sons of Nathaniel Fisher." Of course, he doesn't know that one of those sons tried to blame him for improperly cremating his wife. David says he'll talk to his partners. I hope he doesn't get burned on this deal. I'm sorry, I know that's terrible, but I just had to get it out of my head so I could move on.
Claire's in the office, taking orders for a coffee run. I hope it's just her turn and not her job to do this. Of course, everyone's got annoyingly detailed requests. But at least no one says "yeah, baby."
Cut to the shop on street level, as Claire comes teetering out of the store balancing two trays of cups and a bag of baked goods along with her purse. So she can't really flee when Anita of all people (an art-school classmate, in case you're just joining us) comes walking down the sidewalk and calls her name. "Someone's very thirsty," Anita comments, noticing Claire's burden and her corporate outfit. "And on her way to Bible class, I'm guessing." Claire explains that she's temping. Anita says she thought Claire was dead: "You were like my best friend and then suddenly you were gone," she exposits. Claire tries to escape, but she doesn't get away unscathed; Anita sticks a flyer for the LAC Arts Junior Show in between a couple of the coffee cups and gets Claire to agree to go. Claire heads back up to the office, aware of the painful irony that she was armed with a whole arsenal of hot beverages that she couldn't even use to blind Anita while she made a clean getaway.
Ruth pulls the first batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and calls for the boys. No answer. She stands there like she's trying to remember if there was something she was supposed to be doing. Here's a clue:watching the boys, maybe?
David gets out of his car in his building's parking garage, having put in a full day of shopping for crematories. He jauntily chirps his alarm remote and starts heading in, but he's distracted when a ginormous SUV that looks a lot like the Keithmobile comes cruising into the garage playing extremely loud rap music. And Durrell's rapping along in the driver's seat, with Anthony in the back. At least they're both wearing their seat belts. The truck parks none-too-smoothly in its spot with a sharp squeal, and David stands there blinking in horror like he's waiting for the dream sequence to be over.
Nate tries to get Brenda excited about where they're driving to, presumably to distract her from the terribly fake street scene backdrop crawling past them at about four frames per second: "Come on, a Quaker church service. At the very least it'll be interesting." Brenda lies that she's trying to keep an open mind. Nate's all excited about the lack of sermon: "People just sit silently and wait to be filled with the presence of God." He tries to sound like he's kidding so he doesn't seem completely uncool, but he's totally doing that thing where you actually kind of mean it. Al Franken calls it kidding on the square, which is a handy phrase because there's going to be quite a bit of that going on this week. Brenda regards Nate with a certain incredulity. Nate adds that Maggie says you can say something at the meeting if you want, but it's not a requirement. Brenda asks pointedly, "Is there anything else Maggie thinks we should know?" Since Nate doesn't rise to the bait, Brenda changes the subject, saying her OB thinks the baby's looking good. Nate acts hurt that she didn't tell him about the appointment today, and Brenda claims,"I wanted to spare you the grief." Nate acts all pissed, so Brenda suggests he "sit there and allow yourself to be filled with the presence of God." Nate knows when he's being told to shut up, no matter how creatively it's being done, and it actually works for a second. But then he asks what else the doctor said. Brenda starts with the good news, and when Nate tries to get Brenda to say the baby's "perfectly healthy," she admits that "there are some things that the sonogram can't tell." Nate asks if that means Down's or spina bifida. Brenda assures him that the neck measurement they did makes Down's unlikely. Nate mock-excitedly says, "So, great! We get to maybe check this one thing off the list and the baby could still have a million other things wrong with it." Brenda snaps that it's not an "it." "We're having another daughter." Nate's huffy reaction could be interpreted as this whole baby thing hitting another level of reality for him, or irritation that Brenda's mad at him for using the wrong pronoun before she told him a new one was in place.
David is taking his child-care provider to task for allowing the joyriding incident. "I had no idea they'd left," Ruth says. Oh, good argument there. David asks why she wasn't watching them, and she reminds him that the kids were allowed to play in the courtyard. Ruth snaps, "Don't talk to me like I'm an imbecile. I've raised three children." David says that's why he expected more. What? David, have you met those three children? Ruth snits that in that case, he can take her off his list of babysitters. And on her way out, she picks up the plate of cookies from the dining room table, where the kids have been sitting and watching the whole exchange. David tells Durrell to wipe the smirk off his face; he's grounded. "And you cannot tell Keith about this." Durrell nods. Dammit, David, quit doing that. It's so not helping.
The inside of a Quaker meeting hall, at least on TV, looks a lot like any other church, only smaller. There are maybe half a dozen pews on each side of the aisle, and about fifteen people scattered among them, including Maggie. I don't get why they're all in forward-facing pews for a meeting when they were in a circle for last week's funeral, but at least they're all sitting in total silence. At least until Nate and Brenda come charging in, still bickering loudly. Maggie turns in her pew -- as does everyone else -- then gestures them to the empty pew across the aisle from her while they at least have the good grace to look embarrassed. They sit down and wait to be filled with the presence of God. I screened this scene and the one after the for someone who knows a lot more about Quakerism than I do, our own Miss Alli. I was disappointed that she didn't see anything that immediately made her shout, "Wrong!" For instance, the Quakers weren't wearing black clothes and bonnets, like they often do on TV. She did confirm later that having everyone face the same direction wasn't correct, but the first inaccuracy she noticed was that "there should be more people in sweatpants."
Rico comes home to a rather fancy-looking Vanessa. He excitedly asks if they're going out. Vanessa says she is, without him, and that Rico shouldn't wait up. Disappointed now, Rico asks if the boys have eaten. Vanessa snaps that Wednesdays are his night to take care of dinner. "You have one night a week, I have six. Order some pizza if that's the best you can do." Rico says he'll cook. Vanessa reminds him to clean up. "Okay, I get it," Rico grumbles. Vanessa tells him not to make her the bad guy. I'd say that's looking like a team effort at the moment. Rico says he's fine. "Just go," he says. Vanessa just goes, Rico's balls securely in her purse.
At the Quaker meeting, a gray-bearded gent has just finished explaining that everything's "in remission" and he and his wife "are feeling very blessed." He sits. Silence returns for an unspecified amount of time. Some folks have their eyes closed, and some don't. A slow dissolve later, an older woman stands up and asks if anyone can give her a ride home, since she took the bus. The woman in the pew behind her clasps her hand, and the speaker gratefully sits down. Miss Alli says that wouldn't happen, but it's being presented as something that wouldn't happen, so it's okay. I can't tell if this scene is trying to make fun of Quakers or not. It won't commit to saying that Quakers are weird; at most, it's kidding about Quakers being weird, but it might be kidding on the square.
Another long dissolve later, Nate stands up. Brenda, who's been feeling like a subject in an experiment on clinical boredom, would probably be annoyed if she weren't so relieved to see that something interesting might be about to happen. Nate announces that it's nice to be there: "All day long I deal with death and stress. And it's nice to be in a place of peace. That's all." As he sits down, he looks to Maggie for approval, and appears to get it. And then, almost as an afterthought, he takes Brenda's hand. She appears to be over her relief now. Then the grey-bearded gent starts singing, "We are gentle angry people / and we are singing, singing for our lives." I thought this was a Quaker hymn, if there is such a thing, but it turns out to be a Holly Near song written in 1979. Everyone joins in (Miss Alli: "That wouldn't happen") but Nate and Brenda. Nate looks content; Brenda doesn't. I think it's odd that we never saw the front of the hall. I also didn't expect Quakers to harmonize so well (Miss Alli: "No").
On the drive home, Brenda sighs heavily. That's the closest thing to a line in this scene. If only it had been longer.
The morning, Ruth sits in front of her dresser mirror, trimming the ends of her hair with a pair of nail scissors. Claire pops her head in and asks permission to take some cookies to work, since Ruth made so many. So she just kept baking even after the kids turned up missing? Claire notices what Ruth is doing, and offers to help. Ruth says she's already made a mess of it. "I don't know why I try to cut my own hair." Claire tells Ruth to pamper herself and go to a salon. "It's not like we're living on the prairie." Ruth thinks, Then why have I been wearing my hair in a bun my whole life?
Over coffee at home, Nate asks Brenda if she wants to try Quaker church again the night. "Not really," Brenda obviouses. Nate looks embarrassed, which he reveals is because Maggie's car is in the shop and he already offered her a ride. Maggie's car's in the shop? Where's she living, then? Brenda wonders why Nate's already talked to Maggie at 8:30 in the morning. Nate reiterates that she needed a ride. Brenda cracks, "That place looked like it was full of Friends who'd just looove to give her a ride." Oh, Brenda, when did you start pulling your punches? It doesn't suit you. Brenda wants to know if Nate is really buying into the whole Quakerism thing: "When you walked into that church last night you really believed that you were in the presence of God?" Nate repeats that it felt like a place of peace. Brenda: "Which it isn't here?" He didn't say that, Brenda. "Not a lot lately, no," Nate admits. Okay, now he said it. Stupid Nate. Brenda makes a face that lets Nate know that a fight's coming on, so Nate sends Maya -- who's been watching children's TV in the living room -- off to her room to get her shoes. Maya complies. I think I spend more time on this show every week than those twins do on the set.
Brenda goes into the kitchen and starts stomping around. Without bothering to get up from the dining room table, Nate tells Brenda that it was "nice to be around some people who didn't think they know everything. And who thought there might be something more to life than what they can see and feel and…be right about." Yes, that's a clear sign that you've found the religion for you: you can use it to attack your spouse. Brenda says she feels sorry for Nate and his need to fill his spiritual emptiness with "something so…ridiculous." He asks what the difference is between a service that consists of silent meditation and the kind of meditation that Brenda practices. Brenda says, "I'm not waiting for some mythical historical ghost with his shaming blood sacrifice bullshit to come and save my soul." Ooh, and he was just about to come and do that until you made that comment. Too bad for you. She says she meditates to see and accept the world as it is. "And you can't do that with other people?" Nate asks. "Not with those people, no." Nate starts to ask what happens if he gets involved with Quakerism, and Brenda angrily interrupts that he's using it as an excuse to distance himself from Brenda and the baby. "Because you're scared and you don't know what to do." I think even that is giving Nate too much credit; he doesn't want to get into Quakerism so much as he wants to get into one specific Quaker. Nate asks how he could be distancing himself. "I'm here every fucking night!" And loving every minute of it, obviously. Brenda snaps, "Well, not tomorrow night, apparently you'd rather be with that sappy little ferret Maggie." Nate angrily roars, "Hey! She is a deeply kind person." Brenda asks if that's what Nate's looking for now. Nate says he doesn't want "someone who makes me feel like shit every second of the day." Aw, that's sweet. They should have put that in their wedding vows. Brenda asks why Nate doesn't leave if she's so awful. We've been asking that on and off for five seasons now, Brenda. Nate says he's not leaving: "Maybe you want to leave but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." Having completely failed to answer the question, he goes to work, leaving Brenda to finish packing his daughter's lunch. I take a moment to reflect on how smart it was of this show to keep them apart for the better part of two seasons, to give us a chance to forget just how much these two really hate each other.
Keith answers the knock on his apartment door. It's a neighbor named Benny, who asks, "Keith, can you tell me what this is?" Although confused, Keith is able to correctly identify the item Benny's holding as a side mirror that's been ripped off a car. Benny explains, "It's no longer attached to my car because your kid knocked it off with your ginormous truck trying to park last week." Oops. Sounds like David might owe Ruth an apology, sort of. Keith scoffs that Durrell is 12 years old. Benny just looks at him. "Fucking kid," Keith grumbles, and pulls out his wallet to pay for the damage. "280 dollars," Benny says. Yikes. Who's selling him his new mirror, Rico? Keith says he'll write a check. Get a receipt, Keith.
Lawyer Ted comes up to Claire's cubicle and asks, "So, was that you I saw crawling out of a lime-green hearse yesterday?" Claire says it's more of an avocado. Noting Ted's confusion, she explains that her dad was a funeral director. Ted grins at her little joke, then realizes she's serious. She adds, "I grew up in a funeral home. I still live in a funeral home." Ted asks if living with dead bodies is scary. "Not compared to this," Claire says easily, gesturing around her. Heh. Ted grabs a cookie from the plate on her desk and takes a bite, while Claire makes an awkwardly belated "oh, yeah, help yourself" gesture. Ted seems to appreciate the funeral home cookie. To make the awkward moment stop, he snatches Anita's flyer off the cube wall where Claire stuck it. Grabby dude. He asks if she's going to the art show tonight. She unhappily says, "It's just these friends from school who I don't see any more." Lawyer Ted says he's got the same thing with his old frat brothers. "I'm the only one that's not married or in a serious relationship so I kind of end up looking like a loser." "Which you are," Claire deadpans with an amusing "sad but true" facial expression. Ted has a proposal: "How about I go with you to your thing and you come with me to mine?...We'll take my car." Claire sort of chuckles and glances around, and tries not to be too freaked out by the fact that Kirsten is watching this rather interestedly from her desk. Can Kirsten hear them? Who can tell? In any case, Claire agrees. Ted walks off with another cookie, and Claire sits there grinning at how well that went.
Don't get used to things going well, though, because the partner meeting at Fisher & Diaz is about to start. Well, actually, Rico comes in and acts all pissy about the brothers starting without him, and Nate says he was just reading David's proposal while they waited for Rico. "Proposal?" Rico asks. "What proposal?" David says that now that it's the end of the corporate year, they should talk about reinvesting in the company rather than taking their traditional bonuses. Rico agrees. David says they should buy a crematory. Rico disagrees. Strongly. He complains, "People who want their loved ones cremated are people who don't want to spend money. There's no money to be made in cremation." And he gives David the proposal back without reading it. David says they save on overhead if they own their own, but Rico points out the $340,000 mortgage. "Here's another number to think about: 35%. Do you know what that number is?" The brothers don't. Rico says it's the percentage of their clientele that was Latino last year. "You know why it was so high?" Nate: "I'm not saying anything. I've already been called a racist once this week." Hey, it's already Thursday. Rico says it's because the name Diaz was added to their sign. "That's why we have all this extra money, because I'm bringing in the Latino community." And screwing them with their pants on, he doesn't add. "And there's no way I'm voting that we get a crematory," he finishes. David asks what Rico wants, then. Rico wants, for starters, another Spanish-speaking employee. Nate rolls his eyes, like I'm working on it, okay? Rico starts to talk about Latino community outreach, but David cuts him off to say they need to think about their future. "I don't think it's the future of Fisher & Diaz," he says. Rico takes it personally, even though David just tookcare to refer to the funeral home by its name, which, as Rico just got done pointing out, includes his own. "Oh, I get it," he says. "The Fisher boys are ganging up because you're afraid of losing a little control, huh?" Nate jumps in: "Wait, don't include me in this." David looks at Nate like, Why the hell not?
Ruth appears to have taken Claire's advice about going to a salon. Except she missed the part about how they don't live on the prairie, because apparently Ruth thinks there's only one hair salon in all of L.A. Now, I have to admit that I didn't see all of Los Angeles when I was there, but I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that when it comes to hair salons, the entertainment capital of the world might have at least…at minimum…four? And yet Ruth has returned to the one where Ed Begley, Jr. as Hiram the Hairdresser plies his tonsorial trade. "I'm here to see you," she smiles. Wow, Ruth must really hate being alone.
Back at the partner meeting, Nate is stating his own case, which is in total disagreement with both David's and Rico's plans. Although he doesn't say so, I suspect he read somewhere that some Quakers don't believe in embalming, and he's now about to give us all a demonstration of that expression about a little knowledge being a dangerous thing. "This whole business is so screwed up," he pontificates. "Death used to be something that happened at home. It was taken care of by family." That sounds awful. He continues, "All the undertaker did was build a casket. We were cabinetmakers." David carefully says that he's not sure he knows how to build a cabinet. Nate goes on to say that embalming didn't become common practice until the Civil War, when the need arose to transport dead soldiers back home without having them decompose. "And then of course some asshole figured out a way to make money out of it," he continues, as David's eyebrows shoot up. Nate says most of what they do is unnecessary, including embalming. "There is a little problem of smell," Rico points out. Nate doesn't care, saying that's part of death, and the funerary industry went wrong in trying to disguise it. "Make it look pretty and neat and somebody else's problem," he complains. What the hell is Nate's problem with that? Obviously it works for a lot of people, or else there wouldn't be so much money to be made in it in the first place. Is Nate going to start objecting to indoor plumbing on the same grounds? I can't wait to see Brenda's reaction when he starts storing his shit in a bowl under the bed. ["Nate's problem with that is the same problem he ever has with anything: he's the world's oldest pinko asshole college sophomore. Do the writers make him this much of a douche on purpose?" -- Sars] David asks if Nate has a proposal, "or is this just more of a general lecture?" Nate does: "Green funerals." "Oh, brother," Rico groans. David asks how they make money at that. Nate says it's about making a better world. David: "I'm sorry, but a world that I'm broke in doesn't seem better to me." Nate drops the phrase "conservation easement," and adds, "When I die, please wrap me in a shroud and plant me to a beautiful tree so no one can build a mini-mall there." David reminds Nate that his pre-need specifies cremation (and how morbidly sweet is it that he knows that off the top of his head?), and Nate says he'll change it. Better hurry, Nate. David says it sounds wonderful, but they don't have that kind of money. Nate suggests getting investors (although I think in this context the correct financial term would be "suckers"), and agitatedly tells David to stop thinking of excuses not to change. David says Nate has his blessing to pursue it if he wants, but they're not putting any of their money into it. "Yeah, uh, great meeting, guys," Rico snarks, and walks out. Gosh, do you think the band is going to break up?
Cut to the bar (not Doc's this time), where Claire and Lawyer Ted are hanging out. Another lawyer comes up and tops off their glasses from the pitcher he's holding while Lawyer Ted introduces Claire as the biggest soap opera star in Holland. "Welcome…to…America," Other Lawyer says loudly. "Danke," Claire answers, and Other Lawyer takes off to lighten his pitcher some more. Lawyer Ted reveals that when they were in college, Other Lawyer invented a game where they would all put on diapers under their pants and go to a strip joint and see who could be the first to shit their pants while getting a lap dance. Gah! What the hell is the matter with law students? I suspect he didn't actually "invent" it in the purest sense, but I'll be damned if that's something I'm going to research. Claire is suitably disgusted. "I never won," Lawyer Ted quickly assures her, to her relief. I think she'd rather hear that he never played, but whatever. Lawyer Ted talks about how he has nothing in common with his old frat brothers any more, what with their "BMWs and baby strollers and golf on the weekends [and poorly sublimated scat fetishes]. I'm not ready to be my dad just yet." But he confesses, when Claire asks, that the reason he's a lawyer is because his dad is one. As Claire laughs, Lawyer Ted admits that he's a complete hypocrite. He says that he likes being a lawyer. (Miss Alli: "Wrong!" No, not really.)
David takes steaks off the kitchen grill as Keith confronts him about Durrell's joyriding. "I knew he did it once," David says. "I didn't know it was a regular thing." Keith asks why David didn't tell him, and David says he "took care of it." Keith tells David to stop babying them. David tells Keith to grab the vegetables and they head out to the dining room for dinner.
Where the kids are already seated, waiting for their meal. "You are grounded, my man," Keith announces to Durrell. "I'm already grounded," Durrell says. David makes a pained expression. "But I wasn't supposed to tell you," he adds. As they sit down to dinner, Keith asks Durrell, "Are you going to pay for that mirror? Two hundred eighty dollars." Durrell: "Man, I'm not payin' for nothing. You pay for it." Keith tells Durrell not to talk to him that way. Durrell shoots back, "I talk to you any way I want to, bitch." Durrell, you idiot. Keith's on his feet, and then so is Durrell, pointing his steak knife at Keith. "Come on, try me, big man!" he threatens. And Keith does. Lightning-fast, he grabs Darnell's knife wrist, spins him around, and forces his face down on the table. Durrell hollers at Keith to let him go, completely unaware how lucky he is that Keith only disarmed him and didn't yank his arm clean off and club him to death him with the wet end. Keith looks over at David, who's frozen in panic. David, if you're ever going to back Keith up, now's the time.
Claire and Lawyer Ted are done with his thing, and they've moved on to her thing, namely, the gallery. The centerpiece of the art show is a giant, red, luminous lollipop, which Claire identifies for Ted as Jimmy's work. "He's the star of our class," Claire explains. "Why?" Ted asks. Claire addresses the question as if he's asking for the meaning of the piece, rather than an explanation of how Jimmy got to be the star, and she obligingly goes into a speech about gigantism and what not. "I like this one," Ted says, moving on to a photo on the wall of a girl blowing soap bubbles. Claire says it's Anita's. "We always thought her work was kind of surface-y," she comments. Nice composition, though. Ted repeats that he likes it, just so we don't miss the significance of Ted's superficiality.
And to point that up even more by contrast, here comes Russell. His mass of greasy hair is gone, probably to throw the neocons off his trail, and he's wearing a knit cap over whatever's left. But Claire recognizes him anyway (and from the back, no less) as he stands at the base of Jimmy's sculpture and contemplates it. It's probably the open bottle of wine he's holding that gave him away. Claire taps Russell on the shoulder and says hey, smiling widely at him. Russell hauls her into a hug long enough for Lawyer Ted to get confirmed to the Supreme Court while he stands there awkwardly. Claire finally pries herself loose and introduces Ted. Russell eyes Ted's lawyer suit and asks, "Are you her Secret Service agent?" Ted cops to it, straight-faced. Russell smiles at him good-naturedly, announcing, "Claire and I went out for a very long time. It ended horribly." Everyone chuckles, though even Ted knows that Russell is kidding on the square. Claire asks how Russell is, and he says, "My work has gone to some amazing places since I got hit by a car." Claire, shocked, asks what happened. Russell says he prefers to "process those emotions through my art." Russell says he's going to find Jimmy, "'Cause I think he's looking for me." And to Lawyer Ted: "I think I saw some evil ninjas down that hallway." Lawyer Ted amiably says he'll check it out. Smiling again, Russell takes his leave. Lawyer Ted gets the scoop on Russell from Claire: "He was my boyfriend, for a while. And then he went gay. And then he ended up with Anita, and I switched to Jimmy, I think. It got kind of confusing." She laughs that he probably thinks she's a freak, but he confesses that he once dated a girl who had a pet donkey. Unless she lived in Tijuana, I don't think that's such a big deal. Isn't there something else potentially embarrassing about himself that he might have mentioned? Oh, yeah, he TRIED TO FILL DIAPERS DURING LAP DANCES.
Suddenly Jimmy calls across the room, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the queen of disappearance." Leave the character nicknaming to the pros, Jimmy. He strides confidently toward them, Anita on his arm. Big happy hug for Claire. I'm not sure why everyone's being so nice to Claire tonight, considering that she didn't exactly part with these folks on the best of terms. Claire introduces "my friends, Jimmy and Anita" to Lawyer Ted. Anita holds on to her handshake with Ted a little long, asking, "Are you rich? Please, buy my stuff…I need clothes, and drugs, and shampoo." Ted laughs nervously, even though everyone knows she's totally serious. Not even kidding on the square. Claire mentions that Russell is looking for Jimmy, who quickly says, "I gotta hide. If he comes anywhere near me, please tackle him and beat him unconscious." Jimmy makes himself scarce. Claire asks Anita what's up with those two, and Anita explains, "It's so great! Jimmy got drunk and let Russell blow him and now Russell's majorly in love." Claire laughs in disbelief. "It's my new favorite story," Anita adds. Wow, Anita should have gone to college with Lawyer Ted.
Rico's working late, making up the Corpse of the Week while she lies in her casket. He sighs unhappily, cueing the obligatory bit where she opens her eyes and comments on the episode's theme. "I can't believe what idiots you have to work with," says the woman who Rollerbladed into the path of a moving car. Rico agrees: "They don't listen to me, they don't respect me…" Corpse of the Week, now reclining on the table in her pretty lavender dress and Rollerblades (as well as still laid out in the coffin with her eyes closed), asks Rico if maybe he's talking about someone else. "Vanessa treats you like a dog," she remarks. "She's never going to forgive you." Rico points out that he fucked up. Correct! "That's what men do," CotW purrs, hopping off the counter and gliding over to him. "I'd forgive you," she says. "I'd even forgive you a second time. You need a nice Mexican girl. Not one of those Puerto Rican bitches. They all got razor blades in their pussies." Wow, Rico's fantasy has a potty mouth. Even he says "Whoa" at that. She continues, "A girl like me? I'd let you be the man of the house. I'd let you do anything you wanted, Rico. Anything." Rico goes back to work, sad that she's dead. Actually, the way sex with Vanessa has been recently, the CotW might be an improvement.
Claire comes out of the unisex bathroom at the gallery to find Russell mooning outside the room. She asks if he found Jimmy yet. Something about the way she asks appears to tip Russell off to the fact that she's heard the story. Russell says he's either a masochist or a "mess, I guess," saying he's always falling in love with people who hate him. "Not always," Claire points out nicely. Yeah, Anita seemed to like him just fine for a while. Russell says he's not even in love with Jimmy; he wants to be Jimmy – even though he paradoxically hates Jimmy. "I mean, he's so self-absorbed! He builds a seven-foot sculpture of his penis." Following Russell's gaze to Jimmy's centerpiece sculpture, Claire says, "It's a lollipop." "It's subliminal, Claire," he responds. I don't know, I'd say that sucker's pretty damn liminal. Also, it's at least nine feet. Claire takes this opportunity to say she's sorry for taking all the credit for the collage stuff. "It was part yours." I still think Russell deserves maybe five percent of the credit for that, but Claire's original pissy/defensive/guilty reaction to his claim of partial credit at the end of last season, and her eagerness to move on from the collage thing this season, suggested to me that she always thought he deserved more. But now she's made amends, and I'd be very surprised if this didn't help her move past her current artistic block. Russell says it was good seeing her. She returns the compliment and he plants a kiss on her cheek before leaving. Interesting that they both seem to have gotten some closure without having to bring up the abortion thing. Or maybe it was subliminal. Claire glances over across the room at where Ted is trying to plumb the mysteries of some sculpture, and smiles affectionately.
And then she heads over to the horvy-dorvy table, where she encounters Olivier. "Avoid the shrimp rolls," he advises. "They seem to be covered with fecal matter." They exchange greetings as if they hadn't seen each other at Nate's wedding. He hands her a drink and gushes, "One of my most brilliant students, and the smartest. Which, of course, you know is not the same thing." Claire, already tired of him, moans, "Shut up." But she's just kidding on the square. Olivier comments on her smile. "Where's your self-righteousness?" Claire says she lost it. Olivier asks about Claire's date. Blinking sarcastically, Claire says, "I'd introduce you to him but I don't want you to fuck him." That earns her a hearty laugh from Olivier, who says he just found her self-righteousness. She asks about Billy's quitting his teaching position. "Well, apparently you crushed him," Olivier says, to a stunning non-reaction from Claire. She asks if Olivier's got anything in the show, and he admits there's nothing: "I still paint, but it's all shit. And the only person who buys my art is my rich patron of a mistress. Do you know the humiliation involved in that?" Claire's thinking, How awful. Where can I get one of those? Olivier pontificates about fallow periods when artists must "let the soil rest to prepare for new growth." Claire hopefully asks if that's true. Olivier fervently hopes it is, or else he'll have to start driving a cab. "You don't drive," Claire reminds him. "Well, then I'm really fucked, aren't I?" he jokes. They laugh. Olivier asks what she's up to, and she says she's working a shitty job and hating her life. "It sucks, doesn't it," he asks sympathetically. Does the program say in it somewhere that everyone has to make nice with Claire?
Just then there's the sound of breaking glass, because Russell has smashed his wine bottle against the mighty shaft of Jimmy's sculpture. He flings himself upon it to tear it down, but discovers it to be completely immovable. His boots squeak impotently on the floor. "[Jimmy]'s indestructible! He's fucking indestructible!" he screams. From nowhere, Jimmy falls upon him and the two artists grapple on the floor. Russell even hisses at him like a cat. "Ah," Olivier says happily to Claire. "Theater." I don't remember Russell being this entertaining before. He should always get hit by a car.
Now that dinner's over and the kids are in bed, Keith and David are boxing up all the knives in the house. "This is gonna be pretty inconvenient when I want to butter my toast in the morning," David remarks. "Use a spoon," Keith growls, and grabs all the chopsticks. When David balks, Keith says, "You can kill a man with a chopstick, David." David's still making excuses for Durrell, saying Keith scared him. Jesus, David, you ever hear of a united front? Durrell's going to exploit your differences and keep playing you two off of each other until you either break up or send the kids back. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Keith says he wants a stronger lock for Durrell's bedroom door. "What if there's a fire?" David asks. Putting the chef's knives, block and all, into the box David's holding, Keith snaps, "Let 'im burn." Harsh.
Claire and Lawyer Ted walk through the nearly empty office parking garage to her hearse. She says she was nervous about seeing everyone and kind of worried that their lives were moving forward when hers isn't. But on the contrary, "they're all exactly where I left them." Which comes as quite a relief to her. But I suspect that she's also relieved that they didn't call her out for what an asshole she was the last time she saw them. Claire and Ted reach her car, and they both say that they had fun. Awkward pause. Will there be a goodnight kiss? "I'll see you tomorrow," Lawyer Ted says. I guess that would be a no. Maybe the hearse freaks him out.
Ruth lets Ed Begley, Jr. into her house. She's got a new haircut (which is long and flowing free) and a Moroccan meal in her, as well as probably some liquor. And, her cheesy-ass bedroom line notwithstanding, she'll soon have some Begley in her as well. Please forgive me for glossing over this scene, which ends with them making out in the middle of the living room. Fade to white/a depressing sight.
The morning, Brenda is bitching again, some more, still, to Jackie. And suddenly the clouds part and a heavenly host of angels begins singing the most beautiful music imaginable. Or at least that's what it sounds like to me when Jackie snaps, "Brenda, please shut the fuck up." She says she can't do this any more. "I have to listen my students complain about their problems and when I finally get a break I have to listen to you go on about yours! Honestly, I should tape one of your monologues because you say the same fucking thing every time." Jackie tells Brenda that she has to be the one to change the dynamic of her relationship with Nate. "If you want him to open up to you, you need to open up to him. There. I've said it. Thank God. Now, can we please talk about something meaningless like last night's episode of American Idol? Thank you." Brenda, of course, has never watched American Idol. "Well, let me know when you have, okay?" Jackie says, and leaves the room. Marry me, Jackie. And then marry me again.
Ruth has just finished eating a breakfast that Hiram made for her, which she loved. He says he'll clean up and get going. He's the anti-George! But Ruth has other ideas: "Let's go camping!" Amazed, Hiram asks, "Today?" "Right now," confirms Ruth. Hiram thinks about it for a second. "Okay," he agrees.
Keith and Anthony are in the kitchen, and Keith is packing the kids' lunches. Anthony says Keith doesn't have to do that if he's mad at them. Keith clarifies that he's only mad at Durrell. Anthony says, "Durrell only does bad stuff because he wants to have fun." Keith isn't impressed. "You know," Anthony clarifies, "when you give us back…Everybody always gives us back." Surprised, Keith asks who gives them back. "Our foster parents," Anthony says. "So Durrell wants to have fun while we're here." Keith gets it, although he doesn't particularly look like he wants it. I don't know why he's so shocked, considering he wanted to give them back two weeks in. Do you suppose it would work to explain to Durrell that his behavior is perpetuating a self-fulfilling cycle? Probably not, because kids are stupid.
I'm not really sure what's going in this scene, because some of it's going on in Spanish. Before the CotW'a funeral, Rico's glad-handing in the chapel, paying the priest and the dove guy (who threw in an extra twenty doves). Then he meets the arriving parents and says something in Spanish to them before directing them to the front. Nate watches this from the chapel doorway, then turns and leaves, his expression disapproving for some inscrutable reason. You know how you can tell when something's bothering Nate? He's awake.
Claire's busy at her desk at work when Lawyer Ted comes up to her looking for a printer cartridge. "Supply closet," Claire says. Lawyer Ted makes a helpless face. Which is enough to get Claire to lead him into the darkened supply closet, where it turns out that what he really wants is to make out. Told you he was grabby. Lucky for him, Claire is up for it as well. To my surprise, Kirsten doesn't walk in on them. I guess they're saving that for week.
Hey, Maggie has an apartment after all! She opens the front door of her place to reveal Nate standing there. He apologizes for being early, saying work was just too depressing. But he took the time to go home and change, looks like. Maggie lets him in and tells him to make himself at home (which is something he should be doing anyway, in the literal sense) and goes to get them a couple of bottled waters. They sit on the sofa together, and Nate just starts right the fuck in on how he and Brenda are always fighting. "We see the world in such completely different ways…I guess I conveniently ignored that fact when we got married." Maggie chuckles, and Nate disingenuously apologizes for coming in and "unloading all my shit," as if he knows any other way to interact with people. But he's looking forward to sitting and being quiet at tonight's meeting. Sure he is. Nate asks how she's doing, and she says she wonders how she wound up in L.A. And then she remembers, "I was on my way out and my dad begged me to stay." Nate says that's what happened to him with his mom. Which she should understand, because his mom and George totally double-teamed her. "Any regrets?" Maggie asks. Nate says, "About becoming the one thing I never wanted to be? Oh yeah. Or not. I don't know." He says he used to feel like he was helping people, but has lately begun seeing the whole business as unnecessary, which adds to the general feeling of uselessness he has. "I may have this handicapped child and there's not anything I can do about it. I can't make the baby healthy, I can't make myself more ready to deal with it, I can't even make myself want to deal with it. I can't do anything." Maggie says he's allowed to be scared. "Life is scary." Oh, don't encourage him. She takes his hand. Dammit, she encouraged him. So Nate shifts over and starts kissing her. She tries to stop him, but he just stays up in her face until she starts getting into it.
Cut to Brenda, sitting alone at the Quaker meeting. Oops. She looks at the door, like she's wondering where Nate and Maggie are and what they're doing. Wait, I take that back -- she's wondering where Nate and Maggie are doing it. You know, this is the second week in a row that someone in Brenda's life told her to open up to Nate, and it's the second week in a row that she actually did it, and it's the second week in a row that Nate kicked her in the teeth for it. Although something tells me that unlike the last five minutes of last week, they won't be basically pretending that the current developments never happened.
And then Nate and Maggie are naked and kissing on her sofa. Nate, you asshole. I guess she's not mad at him for what happened between their parents.
Speaking of cheaters, Rico's home. Vanessa's parked on the sofa in front of the TV, eating a plate of pasta. Rico asks where the Federiquitos are, and Vanessa says they're at Rico's mom's and that he can pick them up in the morning. Rico says this used to be pizza night. "Well, there are a lot of things that used to be," Vanessa says flatly. Rico complains, "You can't even wait to have dinner with me?" Without looking at him, Vanessa sets the plate down on the coffee table and tells him to finish it, then goes back to her show. Rico says he can't do this any more. "I feel like I'm just the guy who mows the lawn and takes out the trash and occasionally gets to have sex with you while you lay there [sic] looking bored out of your mind…I was expecting you to try to make this work." He says if she doesn't love him he'll just move out. Vanessa softens a little bit and says she still loves him, but she can't get over what happened. Rico sits down to her and puts on his puppy-dog face, and says, "But why? You know I'll never do anything like that again." Vanessa says she can't explain; it's how she feels. Neither of them knows what to do now. Rico gives up and takes a forkful of pasta. "It has too much salt," he mumbles. Vanessa agrees that it's really bad, laughing a little. Rico asks her out for dinner, and she agrees. Aw, these two crazy kids might just make it work, assuming Rico keeps getting a steady stream of attractive Latina corpses to boost his self-esteem.
Dinner at Keith and David's, and everyone's eating their steak tonight with plastic knives and forks. Anthony's breaks, and he turns to whisper to David, "My knife broke." It's so cute how he lives every second of his whole life in abject terror. David says it's okay, and sets the box of plastic utensils on the table with a pissy look at Keith. Shut up, David. I can't believe he wants to let Durrell continue to have access to sharp objects. I wouldn't even let the kid near that pointed glance that David just shot across that table. Apropos of nothing, Keith announces that he told the Pasqueasel that he wants a couple of weeks off after school's out. "I was thinking we'd go on vacation," Keith says. "Go down to Mexico. Go swimming in the ocean." Anthony asks, "Who's going to take care of us?" Keith obviouses that the kids are going with them. David looks surprised, and Anthony looks happy. Durrell says, "I don't want to swim. I want to go to the mountains and learn to snowboard." It's hard to say if he's just being contrary or testing Keith. In the latter case, Keith passes by saying that they'll do that in the winter, all four of them. "We'll go all kinds of places," he finishes. The boys look at each other and at David, who happily says, "Yes, we will!" David totally doesn't get what happened, but he doesn't really care. Dinner resumes in a happier atmosphere, although nobody gets up to break out the real steak knives. Probably wise.
Ruth and Begley have reached their campsite as Ruth, her hair now in a braid down her back, comments on how good it smells out in the sticks. "This is the way the world is supposed to smell," Begley comments from right behind her as they start unloading the car. The world is supposed to smell like Begley? I want off now. Begley says there's a stream where they can go fishing in the morning. Ruth happily says she feels completely free, with nobody waiting for her or expecting her to do anything. "You can do anything you please," Begley says. Why she's doing Begley, then, shall remain a mystery for now.
Nate and Maggie snuggle under a blanket on her sofa as Nate comments that they missed the church service. After a long silence, he asks if she's crying. She isn't, but she doesn't look far off. Nate actually rolls his eyes a little. How quickly he becomes disenchanted. ["I seriously have not loathed anyone on television as much as I loathe Nate since I had to recap Dawson Leery every week." -- Sars] She sadly says he should go. Nate asks if she's sure she's all right, and she insists she's fine. He and his boxer briefs hop up and they start getting dressed. All I'll say about Maggie's boobs is that they're clearly real. "This wasn't planned, you know," Nate says, pulling on his pants. Maggie knows. Well, that changes…nothing. Nate gets into his shirt, and seems to have some stiffness in his arm as it slips into his sleeve. He waggles his hand in confusion. Maggie asks what's wrong. Shaky-voiced, Nate says, "My arm is numb. Numb arm." His eyes roll back in his head as the camera angle gets all dizzy. "Numb arm. Narm! Narm…" And he topples backward onto the floor. Wuss. I had a migraine last week that interfered with my ability to speak, and I got in my car and drove home. This loser swoons like some corseted Victorian. But it might be something more serious in his case. A relapse of the brain thing that was supposedly fixed at the beginning of Season Three, perhaps? Clearly, his hard drive has crashed in some catastrophic way. Maggie runs to kneel over him, asking what's wrong. But he's not speaking or moving, and there's nothing behind his staring eyes but a Blue Screen of Death. Maggie runs to the phone and dials 911. This couldn't have happened an hour earlier?
No previews for week, so we'll have to wait until then to see just how dead Nate really is. And what Brenda has to say about it.