That's a wrap for Nate

S05E10

Cut to David at the morgue. Nate's body is slid out of the one locker they have. I bet they're anxious to get him out of there. The coroner or coroner's assistant unzips Nate's body bag, and the first thing we notice is that Nate's eyes are gone, and the sockets have been stuffed with cotton. Brr. The thing is that Nate's incredibly pale, which just creates more contrast with his stubble and chest hair. And then, his head bandage is still on, and there's a crudely-sewn incision slashed up the middle of his chest. I've seen more even sutures on Boris Karloff. David expresses surprise that Nate wanted his organs harvested. "His wife approved it. Is there a problem?" the coroner's assistant bitches. David gives her a look and says of course not. "It'll save a lot of people's lives," the coroner's assistant snaps. Great. What is it with coroners being insensitive to David when he picks up family members, anyway? Also, it was thoughtful of Nate to donate his organs, but with all that chest hair I can't believe he left out Locks of Love.

And then David's behind the wheel of the corpse wagon, waiting at a red light. He stares blankly across the intersection, and there's a guy in a red-hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, trying to thumb a ride. David blinks and the guy's gone. But then the windows go all foggy, and the guy materializes in the shotgun seat. He turns to David, and of course to the surprise of nobody it's none other than Jimmy Felon -- the guy who abducted, tortured, and threatened to kill David last season. For now, he's busily masticating something. "Oh, fuck," David moans in panic, because the last thing he needs is food on the seats of the corpse wagon while his brother's in the back. Jimmy Felon spits out what's in his mouth: a pair of eyeballs with the stringy bits still attached. He offers one to David. "I got them from your brother, but they suck." Fortunately, an angrily honking horn brings David back to reality. Thanks for stopping by, Jimmy! Let us provide the snacks time, okay?

Bettina is in Ruth's kitchen, offering to make her more food that Ruth won't eat. Ruth, in her bathrobe, asks if she can take another pill, and when Bettina finds out her last one was three hours ago, she says, "Sure, go ahead. If you get addicted, I have a lot of experience getting people through withdrawal." You know, I spend an awful lot of time looking up old recaps to link to for a show that's only on its sixty-first episode. It's probably just as well that it's ending this year, or eventually we'd be posting recaps that consist of nothing but hyperlinks. There's continuity, and then there's continuity. Back in the present, Bettina puts Ruth's breakfast in front of her and makes a little speech about eating that I think is only there because David missed his cue. Better late than never, David comes into the kitchen and Bettina offers him coffee, which he declines, saying he's had too much already today. Yeah, I'd say. Claire wanders in about now. I think this could have been a much more powerful moment, seeing the entire surviving Fisher family together in one room for the first time, and how small and vulnerable they look in their diminished numbers. But we also have Bettina sitting at the table eating, so that's an opportunity missed. Ruth suddenly turns and snaps at David, "Why didn't you call [Nate's microbiologist]?" David says, clearly not for the first time, that Dr. DiPaolo was out of town, but Ruth doesn't want to let it go. Claire gently tells Ruth, "He was talking to us, Mom. He really seemed okay." Ruth complains that it doesn't make sense, and Bettina says that sometimes things don't. Hoping to change the subject, Claire offers to help David somehow, but he rather rudely shuts her down. I think Claire should maybe offer to help David with that giant list of things to do he's toting around, or at least make it clear that that's what she's offering. He does ask her to make some calls from the list in the office and tell people that the service is the day at noon. Ruth complains that they should wait a few days so people have time to arrive. Rather than explaining that the guest-star budget for this episode is already through the roof, David heaves a sigh and says Nate didn't want to be embalmed. "He told me. Twice," he explains when Ruth seems doubtful. He starts to say more, and then abruptly leaves the room instead. Bettina continues eating Ruth's eggs.

David's going over Nate's three-year-old pre-need, which specifies cremation and a service by the recurring Hot Rabbi from Season Two. Brenda rolls her eyes extravagantly at the mention of the Hot Rabbi's name -- not because it's another example of Nate's interest in different religions when they're practiced by women he's attracted to, but because Hot Rabbi was the one who was supposed to marry them the first time they got engaged. Of course, now the Hot Rabbi is Alma Garrett on Deadwood, which means she's almost certainly been dead for a hundred years. David goes on to explain Nate's "green funeral" request from last week, and everything that entails. "That sounds nice," Brenda whispers. David explains that they're technically supposed to follow the signed document, but that he thinks Nate intended to change it. He "just………..didn't have time to." In the time between "just" and "didn't," of course, Nate would have had time to become a skeleton in the basement. David says it's up to Brenda, as Nate's spouse, to decide what Nate would have wanted. Brenda almost breaks up as she says she has no fucking idea. "I mean, Rabbi Ari? And now apparently he's some kind of Quaker. Was, I mean." Actually, I believe he was just a Quaker Maker. Sorry. Don't email me. On that very subject, Brenda sarcastically adds, "Maybe we should just ask Maggie what he would have wanted." Which is Ruth's cue to enter, still in her bathrobe, asking, "What's Maggie have to do with it?" Nobody answers, but Ruth wants a vote in any case: "I want him buried in the family plot to his father." When David says Nate wants to be in a nature preserve, Ruth complains that she wants Nate to her. "Well, you can go there too, then," David suggests, not particularly kindly. Brenda isn't actually saying anything verbally, preferring to let her rudely extravagant head-shaking and eye-rolling do the talking. Ruth turns and walks out, perhaps looking for a room in her own house where somebody gives a shit what she thinks.

Sixth scene in a row with David in it! That's some kind of record, I think. Of course, we have one less ongoing plot line to keep up with now, so the rest are going to have to be in a little heavier rotation. Unless the show starts spending fifteen minutes of every episode underground with Nate, which as the recapper I would be totally in favor of. At the moment, David's on the internet, doing a little research about green funerals. Rico comes in and puts a sympathetic hand on David's shoulder, asking if he's okay. "Now we just go on with everything?" Rico wonders. "That's what people do," David says. How would he know? Oh, yeah, that's right. Rico assures David that he'll take care of the other funeral that's coming in, for a guy from a nursing home. David shoots that down, saying he doesn't want anyone else there during Nate's service. Rico gently protests that the other guy has a pre-need and paid for his funeral ten years ago. "Rico, please just work it out," David says. It's not "Shut up, Rico," but I shouldn't complain because the show has been pretty generous with those this season, in a number of forms.

Over at Brenda's house, she's trying to get Maya to eat something. Asking nicely isn't working, so she tries a little yelling. Before things can actually get violent, the sound of pottery shattering outside draws her away. She heads to the front door, apologizing to Maya for her tone as she goes. Maya doesn't react to the apology, but then she didn't react to the yelling, either, so I think it's a wash.

Out on the front step, Brenda discovers Maggie, who's trying to clean up a broken planter that she knocked over. Symbolism can be so awkward. Brenda asks what she's doing there. "I made you guys a quiche," Maggie tries, only to receive a disgusted look from Brenda. She says she just planned to leave it on the porch, but getting attacked by Brenda's plant kind of shot that down. She practically cries, "Oh, Brenda, I'm so sorry." Brenda: "What is this, some kind of Quaker thing? You fuck someone's husband to death and bring them a quiche?" Maggie doesn't answer. Brenda: "Would you please just admit it? It would be such a relief to know exactly when my marriage turned into a total fucking lie." I'd say that was right around here. Maggie claims it wasn't like that. "Nate loved you," she says. Brenda yells, "I don't need you to tell me how my husband felt about me. Even if he was pissed off at me, he certainly wasn't in love with you, even if he said he was. Nate could be very convincing that way. All he ever wanted was someone to make him feel like he was a better man than he actually was. Could have been anyone." With that much room for improvement, I would have to agree. Brenda slams the door in Maggie's face, quiche and all. Maggie rights the little plant table she knocked over, and sets the quiche on it before leaving quietly. I hope we get to see the scene where she comes over in a few days to ask for the pan back.

Evening. Ruth and Bettina, on the sun porch. Ruth's still in her bathrobe, and now she's recriminating herself for not having a cell phone. Bettina rightly points out that it wouldn't have saved Nate anyway. And now Ruth blames Claire for goading her into getting her hair cut, which of course drove her directly into the arms of Hiram the Hairdresser, the only hairdresser in the greater Los Angeles area (aside from that one David shot down, of course), who was such a complete bastard about immediately agreeing to go camping with her. I know it's natural in a situation like this to pick away at how things might have been different; I'm just surprised that Ruth seems to be the only one who's doing it. Bettina asks when Ruth last took a pill. Ruth says she doesn't want a pill; she wants her son. Oh, make up your mind.

The morning, David slowly wheels Nate into the Body Shop. Late Nate, Sr. is waiting there, tossing a football up and down and complaining about Nate dying instead of David. "You know I love you, son," he tells David, "but Nate's my little man." "I'm a man, Dad," David grits, single-handedly sliding Nate's body from the gurney to the slab. No argument here. Nate's not a small guy. Maybe he weighs a lot less without his organs. Late Nate, Sr. cites David's pattern of self-destructive behavior: "What with AIDS, and picking up strange men on the side of the road, screwing a whore with no condom, you've been begging for some kind of annihilation your whole life." And Nate hasn't? Late Nate, Sr. figures Ruth must be going insane. "Going"? "He was her favorite," he explains. David asks who was Late Nate, Sr.'s favorite, and course he answers Claire. Ignoring David's protests that he barely knew her, he chuckles, "Pretty little heartbreaker. Just like her mom, before she cracked." Which time? "You make me sick," David says. Late Nate, Sr. pleasantly says that it's mutual, and suddenly flings the football right at David's face. He flinches, but of course there's no football and only one Late Nate in there with him. Aw, and David and Late Nate, Sr. had such a nice little moment last time they were together. So now that Nate's dead, David gets the nasty old prick version of his father who used to visit his brother? That doesn't seem fair.

Keith's getting the kids ready to go. Problem: Durrell's new suit pants are too long, even with the waistband up where it's supposed to be as opposed to where the kids are wearing them these days. Keith, busy tying Anthony's bow tie, says they need to drop off a plot point at the Pasqueasel's on their way to the funeral. Keith agrees to get Durrell's pants hemmed on the way, but only if they leave right now. Durrell rolls his eyes and goes to get his shoes.

David's busy washing Nate's body. It kind of looks like hard work, as he drags a soaked cloth along his brother's limbs. If that's actually Peter Krause and not a really convincing prop, I hope he was nice to all the people who have played corpses on this show over the years. Ruth comes in, still in her bathrobe, carrying a suit on a hanger, and stops short in the doorway when she sees what David's doing. She looks embarrassed at seeing her oldest son undressed, even with a towel over his groin. She recovers enough to explain to David that she found Nate's best suit. David says they're not having a viewing, since Nate didn't want to be embalmed or made up. "But people need a viewing," Ruth complains. David says she can look at Nate now. Ruth comes in and slowly hangs the suit on a hook. She looks at it sadly for a minute, finally letting go of the idea of funeral she wanted for Nate. David watches sympathetically as he works. That accomplished, she turns to look at Nate lying on the slab. His hair's wet and slicked back, except for a large patch on the left side of his skull where it's entirely gone. That's where the sewn-up incision is. Looks like the neurosurgeon went in there with a gardening trowel. Ruth comes to Nate's side and touches him gently while David looks sad. She takes a cloth of her own and starts helping David wash, and there's peace between them in this symbolic moment of reconciliation.

For about ten seconds, which is as long as she can stop herself from asking, "When he came out of the surgery, what exactly did the doctor say?" Frustrated, David says he's told her a hundred times. But Ruth still doesn't understand: "Clearly something went terribly wrong!" Well, of course it did; Nate was involved. David's had enough of this shit from her. "What, you think I killed him?" he snarks. "Is that what you're trying to get me to say?" Ruth screams, "How dare you speak to me that way?" David comes right back: "How dare you? I lost him too, Mom!" Claire appears unnoticed in the Body Shop doorway. David continues, "All you've been doing is accusing me of doing the wrong thing. At least I was there." You knew that was coming. I'm actually surprised it took this long. David looks like he knows he went too far, but he can't take it back, and doesn't especially want to. Ruth's face crumples and she rushes out past a horrified Claire, who yells, "Fuck!" "What?" David asks her dangerously. Claire doesn't want to be in line for a tongue-lashing, so all she can manage to say is "I picked up the programs" before bolting. "Thank yeww," David says to the empty room.

It's a busy Monday at Lawyer Ted's office. How do I know it's Monday? Well, Episode Eight started on a Wednesday and spanned three days, which means Nate narmed on Friday night. Which is why everyone was free to hang out at the hospital on Saturday, at the end of which Nate died. So I'm thinking this episode started on Sunday, and now it's Monday. All part of the service, folks. But back to Lawyer Ted's office: he may be the lowest-paid attorney in the company, but at least he has an office with a door. I miss that. His phone rings, and Claire, sitting on the floor under the kitchen counter at home, breaks the news that her brother's dead. Ted sits down heavily. "My God," he says. "What happened?" Claire says she has to get out of the house, but she's not in any state to drive. "Are you, like, really busy?" she asks. Lawyer Ted shuffles the tsunami of paper on his desk, signs something, and lies, "No. I'll be right over." Except he'll later turn out to not be lying about the second part. Claire disconnects the cordless phone and lets it drop on the floor.

Keith lets himself and the boys into the Pasqueasel Palace. I can't believe it took me until almost too late to come up with a name for that place. He calls for his boss, but the only answer is the sound of breaking glass and a lot of loud, angry swearing from the other room. Keith tells the kids to stay where they are, and hurries off to investigate. He finds the Pasqueasel in the trashed living room, using a golf club to keep some angry young actor wannabe at bay. "Tit for tat, you said!" the wannabe yells. "You got your fucking tit, now where's my cocksucking tat?" Apparently the Pasqueasel got him some part, and the hack got fired, and now the hack's mad at the Pasqueasel. And throwing things at him. Keith intervenes, physically restraining the guy as the boys peek around the corner. Now that the immediate threat is being dealt with, the Pasqueasel pours himself a drink and tells Keith to drive the hack to Van Nuys Airport and put him on a private plane someone's letting him use. Keith says he can't, since he and the kids are on their way to David's brother's funeral. The Pasqueasel says he's sorry and asks if there's anything he can do. Still holding the guy down, Keith says the Pasqueasel can take care of this himself. The Pasqueasel: "Oh, I'm, sorry, sweetie, but I've been overpaying you for a year. This is the first time I've really needed you to do something." Rotten timing, that. Stupid Nate. The kids have joined them in the living room now, and Durrell reminds Keith that he still needs his pants fixed. The Pasqueasel takes one look at the tailoring emergency before him and says he'll have "my girl" take care of it while Keith goes to Van Nuys, and then the Pasqueasel will drop the kids off at the funeral with newly hemmed pants. "Please," he says, "let me help you help me." Keith reluctantly agrees. "But don't talk to them too much," he orders. Heh. "Can we have beer?" Anthony asks as the Pasqueasel leads them off. "No!" Keith snaps. And now the guy he's got in a headlock asks Keith if they've met somewhere. Keith, ignoring the rule that states that's always a significant question when somebody asks it on TV, says no and drags him out.

Brenda makes herself a cup of tea at home. Ma Chenowith comes in wearing her funeral clothes and carrying a garment bag. She hugs Brenda, saying, "Damn, you've had a shitty year." Hey, language! Maya's sitting right there. Drop a couple of effenheimers in there so she doesn't miss her dad so much. Ma says she's brought funeral clothes for both Brenda and Maya, as well as lox and vodka. That sounds like one messy sandwich. "Great," says Brenda. "I can't drink and lox has mercury." Ma keeps pushing the Stoli, and Brenda continues to blow it off and sits down at the kitchen table with Maya. Ma apologizes for her pushiness, saying she doesn't know what to say. "I'm just so sorry." She sits at the kitchen table with Brenda and Maya and asks Maya how she is. "Where's my daddy?" Maya asks Ma, to Brenda's dismay. Ma decides to handle this. She leans in close and begins gently, "Your daddy has gone away for a very long time." Brenda snaps that her mom can't say that, and I wait for whatever kinder version Brenda is going to try. Here it comes: "Honey? Daddy's dead. That means he's not coming back ever." Yikes! Even Ma is like, "Jesus, soften it up a little." Seriously, when Ma Chenowith is telling you that you're speaking inappropriately, you might as well turn in your tongue. Brenda protests that that's what the books tell her to say to keep Maya from getting confused. "When's Daddy coming back?" Maya grumbles. Brenda snaps, "Daddy's dead. Remember, like Nemo's mom? Remember how we talked about that?" Maya uh-huhs. Before Brenda can give her stepdaughter a lucky fin, if you catch my drift, Ma picks up Maya and suggests to Brenda that this might be a conversation for "a time when you're less insane with grief." Brenda denies being insane with grief (which I believe, since she hasn't always had grief) as Ma releases Maya to scamper off and play by herself. There's a quick exchange in which we learn that Billy is out of the country -- Dubai, to be precise -- and then Ma says she can't believe they're both widows. "At least you've got Olivier," Brenda points out, but Ma says Olivier walked out on her last week. Since Claire saw him on Thursday night? Don't tell Claire, or she'll take credit for it. Ma says, "I know it's not the same, but we're both alone now." Brenda, so not in the mood for her mom's crap that she can't even see the mood from here, agrees, "No, it's not the same. Not at all." Yeah, Brenda's husband left her and died.

Claire's riding in the shotgun seat of the Tedmobile. Only one of them is wearing a seatbelt, and I'll let you guess which one. Claire's got her head hanging halfway out the window, but not one strand of her hair is moving in the breeze. That's a neat trick. I bet it has something to do with conditioner, hot-oil treatments, and rear projection. She says she wants to just drive around randomly through this residential neighborhood, which is fine with Lawyer Ted. She reaches for the radio to change the station from whatever insipid crap is playing, and is surprised and amused to see that it's actually a mix CD. Ted admits that he loves Top 40. "It just sounds so good sometimes." Well, I suppose we can't blame Ted for feeling that way. Someone has to love it, or it wouldn't be Top 40. Then something else would be Top 40. Hey! That means Ted must die! But Claire just smiles at him and rides along in cheese for a moment. Then she confesses that all she can think of right now is all the stupid fights she had with Nate instead of "the good times, or whatever." Ted says that's not horrible: "I can't think of anything nice about my sister," he confesses. Claire insists that she likes Nate, but tells a story about when Nate refused to be interviewed by her for a school project. "It's not like it was some big traumatic thing." She starts crying again and apologizes. Ted tells her it's okay. She doesn't know why she keeps thinking about that time, though, and it really seems to bother her. Maybe she should try blaming David or something.

Rico's on the phone at home, apparently having just finished pawning off that other funeral. Vanessa comes in and has him zip up her hubba-hubba funeral dress while he stresses about everything from her sister showing up late for baby-sitting to having "no one to stop David from spending three hundred grand on a crematorium" to the Diazes' lack of savings and of life insurance in case something happens to either one of them. Rico tries making his sister-in-law appear by glaring out the front window, until Vanessa takes pity on him and offers to let him drive ahead while she waits for Angelica. Can you believe Rico never got busted for lying about his date dying earlier in the season? Vanessa should demand to see Nate's body. They kiss goodbye, and Rico's out.

David stares at a sheet in his notebook, with only one word at the top: "NATE." If that's his brother's list of things to do, David's done a good job of tailoring it to Nate's present capabilities. The boys come swarming in, each carrying plastic goody bags and trailing iPod wires out of their ears. David's happy to see them and Durrell's perfectly-hemmed pants. He's less happy to see the Pasqueasel, who comes in behind the boys bearing a giant flower and his sympathies. "Thank you," says David. "Where's Keith?" The Pasqueasel takes a deep breath, hands over the plant, and tells David, "We had a…situation." Oh, Pasqueasel. You of all people should know not to give David something heavy before giving him bad news. Stuff a whole shitload of bubble gum into his mouth and then tell him.

Cut to Keith hanging out to a parked jet at the Van Nuys Airport. Hey, do you suppose that's why they call them "hangars"? He's waiting for the plane to be prepped for takeoff so he can be rid of the hack actor and get to the funeral. And, of course, he's apologizing to David profusely over his cell phone. "Couldn't you just say no? Today?" David demands angrily. Keith apologizes again and says he'll be there as soon as he can. David just hangs up. Keith walks over to where the hacktor is leaning against the Keithmobile. And the hacktor has suddenly remembered where he knows Keith from: "You're that guy in the blowjob video…the one where [the Pasqueasel]'s giving you head??" Oops. Keith's been on Candid Cocksucking Camera. Hey, you think that scene will be on the DVD? The hacktor continues, "[He] played it every time we had sex. Can't come without it. Does he pay you extra for that or is that just part of the job?" Well, at least now Keith knows why he's being overpaid. Rather than essaying a response, Keith knocks the kid's cigarette and coffee cup to the ground, then pushes him away from the truck so he can get in and drive off, tires squealing. Back off, punk. I've got a funeral to get to.

The Tedmobile is in front of a more rural rear projection now, to go along with the Dixie Chicks' remake of Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" currently playing on his mix CD. This is neither here nor there, but take a moment to think about the fact that Smashing Pumpkins also recorded that song, and I can't think of three other bands that are more equidistant from one another. Claire asks Lawyer Ted why he doesn't like his sister, and he tells her about how his older sister Caroline is just mean, even though she helps refugees. "To the world at large, she's a saint," he explains. "But if you're an actual person in her life, she's just a bitch." As an example, he says Caroline only came by twice in the three years that his little sister was going through chemo. Claire asks if the little sister is okay now, and Ted says she is. Apparently the subject of siblings facing death has reminded Claire what she's supposed to be doing today, so she suddenly sits up and says she has to go back. Ted says okay, and starts looking for a place to turn around, which is kind of a shame. I think a nicely executed bootlegger's turn would lighten the mood considerably.

Keith shows up at the funeral home, having put his tie on along the way. He finds David still in the office, pouting. He must have started a new page on his list of things to do, because the first sheet didn't have room for him to add "sulk." "Thanks for making it," David says flatly. Keith asks if the boys are okay. "They're upstairs in a state of bliss. Roger bought them iPods." Keith takes David into a hug. David lets him, but we can see over his shoulder that he's still pissed. Watch your ear, Keith.

Also pissed? Ruth, who's done quizzing her family about the reasons behind her son's death and is now standing in the funeral home chapel, looking for some answers from Father Jack. All dressed up in her funereal finery, she wants to know what kind of message God was sending by taking Nate at the one time she couldn't be there. "I don't think it's helpful to see it as a message to you," Father Jack suggests. "Then why would it happen that way?" Ruth demands. "Especially in a universe that revolves around me?" I might have imagined that last part. The priest tries to talk her down, suggesting she see God as a light through this time instead of the cause. "God is an asshole!" Ruth snaps at him. "Yes, God is a huge asshole, and I fucking hate him for this," agrees Ruth's sister Sarah, who has just arrived. I think it would be funny if Sarah turned out to be talking about something completely different, like a parking ticket. As Sarah goes in for a hug, Father Jack steps out of the way so as not to be struck by lightning himself. Sarah assures Ruth that they'll get her through it. "You're not alone. You're not alone." Sarah, I know you just got here, but maybe you could glance up at the episode title at the top of the page before you start spouting off.

Rico stands by the door to the chapel, handing out programs. The sign behind him reads "Nathaniel Samuel Fisher Jr. 1965 -- 2005," in case you're just tuning in. Oh, and "Knocking on Heaven's Door" by Bob Dylan is playing. Nate loves a good cliché, doesn't he? If anyone plays that at my funeral, it had better be the Guns N Roses version. "Let this one be LAAAAAAOUD!"

Sarah goes to the front of the chapel, which is filled with flowers that surround a nicely framed and matted black-and-white portrait of a smiling Nate in a suit with no tie. I'm guessing it's one of Claire's wedding photos. She must be so glad that someone is willing to put one of those up in public. Sarah touches the glass, thinking, If only I could get away with more than a few smudgy fingerprints. That'd teach the smug little bastard not to invite me to his wedding. Then she sits in the front row to Ruth and Bettina.

And here come the Sibleys. Ruth looks back to see Maggie and George entering quietly. George is wearing a suit instead of a bathrobe, and Maggie manages to not knock over any of the plants in the room as they make their way to seats in the back row. George is looking at Ruth the whole time like he expects her to jump up and throw him out. She disappoints.

We get a quick glimpse of Todd in the congregation (he of the Livestrong bracelet and the Claire-fucking on Nate's birthday) before Claire herself appears in the doorway, with Lawyer Ted at her side. They appear to have come straight from the car -- not because Claire's hair is windblown, because it's not, but because she's wearing the same blue jeans and purple screened t-shirt she's had on all day. She leaves Ted at the door to the chapel and joins David and Keith in the front row. Her brother looks at her and shakes his head in disgust. "You could have dressed," he tells her. When she says she couldn't and he tells her everyone else managed, she snaps, "The rest of you win." Which is basically all David needs to hear. Pretty much ever.

The Dylan fades out. I wait for "Keep a Knockin' but You Can't Come In" to take its place, but I am disappointed. Instead, Rico comes up the center aisle and takes the podium. "I think we're all in shock," he begins. "We've lost a lot. A son…a father, a brother, a husband, a colleague…to me, an inspiration." Ah, so that's how Rico ended up cheating with a stripper. Maybe he can go get himself a better inspiration now. Rico starts getting teary as he describes Nate's "gift," while Vanessa watches him sympathetically from the gallery. He finishes, "And I just think he'd know what to say to help us if only he were here. Thank you." Rico scampers back to the back of the room. Ma Chenowith starts sobbing openly and fishing for a tissue, until Olivier, who unbeknownst to her has been standing to one side behind her, chooses this moment to make his presence known by stepping forward to help. Which of course only makes Ma sob louder. Everyone suffers through this noisy, phlegmy drama until David finally steps up to the podium.

He begins by introducing himself and saying how he used to get picked on at school, and that Nate served as his protector. Actually, he says, "He'd go and talk to whoever was tormenting me and I'd be fine." Right then, of course, a figure in a red hooded sweatshirt passes ominously through his peripheral vision at the side of the room. Maybe the "Nate was my protector" angle wasn't the best way to go with the eulogy. This probably would have gone a lot better if he'd chosen a theme like, "Growing up in Nate's shadow prevented me from ever developing any confidence or self-esteem, which led to a pattern of self-destructive behavior from which I am now free! Free at last!" That would have worked out much better for him in terms of the symbolic visions that would have resulted, I think. David takes a moment to recover, then continues shakily about how young Nate suggested that young David just laugh at his tormentors. Because Nate was tired of talking to people, I guess. David says people were drawn to Nate because he could make the best of a bad situation (although I maintain that he was much better at the reverse), and stops short when the red-hoodied figure appears in the chapel's doorway. He blinks, and it's just a guy in a suit coming down the aisle. I don't know where Suit Guy thinks he's going, but here he comes. David tries to continue, but chokes on the words. Keith hops up from his chair and gently leads David back to where he was sitting, closely followed by Ruth.

Which leaves kind of an awkward gap in the proceedings. If only there were a priest in the house. In the silence, George steps up to the podium and introduces himself as Nate's stepfather. "The loss of a young person is always a terrible blow. But in this case, it's even more cruel because Nate was an idealist. And he struggled all through his life to be a good man. He wasn't perfect." Thunderous applause. Oh, wait, that was only in my head. George continues, "But then who among us is? And he never gave up on himself, or the people he loved." Except when he did. How does George know all this? Sounds like someone's been having some tearful late nights with his Quaker daughter. In the front row, Ruth takes her surviving children's hands.

Afterwards, people bustle through the kitchen as Bettina dispatches Claire to the front room with "this scary fruitcake." Ruth comes out to the living room sofa, where David's laid out with his jacket off. She puts a damp cloth on his forehead, and sits down to be with him. He apologizes for what he said earlier. "I'm sorry," she answers. "You lost him too." Ruth says she and David are the most alike, which makes it hard. Why does she keep making up with people that way? I wonder if it works on bill collectors: "We're so alike, you and I. We both want my money."

Brenda comes out onto the lawn, where Maya's hanging out with Brenda's boss Jackie. I don't know where Maya was during the funeral, because Jackie was in the chapel with everyone else. Jackie tells her that Maya's doing "okay. Many questions." What, not just the one question many times? That's progress, I suppose. Brenda squats down, and appears to smell something. "Did you go?" she demands. Maya denies it. Brenda picks her up and feels around back. "Why didn't you tell somebody you had to go?" she yells. "Do I need to get you a diaper?" She tells Jackie this hasn't happened in months. "Sometimes they regress when they're upset," Jackie says, as she holds Maya in a comforting hug and refrains from telling Brenda, "And you're not helping." Brenda curses -- perhaps to remind Maya of her happy memories of Daddy -- and says they're going to the cemetery in two minutes. Jackie says she'll clean Maya up, and tells Brenda to go on ahead. I hope Jackie saves some poo to put into Brenda's employee file.

George gathers a tray of party detritus and meets Ruth, on her way from the kitchen with a fresh food tray of her own. She says they're leaving for the cemetery, which will be a family-only scene. George says he understands. Except he doesn't, because Ruth invites him along. He gratefully accepts. They continue on their respective ways, but she stops and adds that she's not inviting his new fiancée Cynthia Stevenson, if she's there. "She's not here," George says. "I have no idea where she is. Ever. Anymore." Does that mean the engagement's off? It's hard to tell with George sometimes. Ruth fails to not invite Maggie while she's at it, which Brenda is certain to appreciate.

Out in the driveway, Rico's busy arranging the vehicular logistics. He puts Claire in the Keithmobile with its owner and David, and sends George with Ruth, Maggie, and Sarah. He catches up with Brenda and asks if she's riding with Ma Chenowith. When he hears Ma's not going, he offers her a ride with himself and Nate in the hearse. Brenda declines. Rico doesn't really have time to push it, and he doesn't actually care that much, so he gives her directions, his cell phone number, and a big FUNERAL sign for her windshield. Suitable for framing!

Later, the little cortege of four vehicles pulls up along a dirt lane in a park somewhere. It kind of looks like where Ruth was lost last week, only flatter. All the cars are dark-colored, except for Brenda's bright-red sedan in the back of the line. Everyone starts to get out of their respective vehicles. Except for David, who looks past Keith's bald head to see a red-hoodied figure standing between a couple of trees off in the distance. He bangs his head against the headrest in fear and frustration as Keith gets out. Keith turns back and asks if he's okay, and David says he can't get out right now. Keith says he'll stay with him, but David yells at him to "just give me a minute!" The woods are empty now, but David is still freaking. Keith raises his hands in a placating gesture and walks forward to the hearse. And off in the distance, that distant red hoodie appears in the space he just crossed in front of. Kind of a neat, subtle effect that I actually missed the first time. David tries to hold it together and waits for the hoodie to go away.

Keith is surprised at what he sees when Rico opens the back door of the hearse: "There's no coffin?" Rico says Nate didn't want one. "More natural this way," George says, joining them in helping drag the canvas-shrouded corpse out of the vehicle. Rico asks where David is. "I think the three of us can handle this," Keith evades, grunting with effort as they awkwardly haul the body away and let the hearse door slam shut behind them. Good thing the old guy came along to help with the heavy lifting.

As the three pallbearers make their way to the plot, George and Rico are in the lead, while Keith carries the back end. I have no idea which end is the feet and which is the head. It just looks like a big, lumpy, off-white oblong area rug bag. Rico slips in the grass, but quickly recovers. Good thing it was the one who had the least distance to fall. If it had been George, Sars would still be waiting for me to send the recaplet. The women, walking ahead, reach the gravesite first. It's just a hole in the ground to a tree. No marker, just like Nate wanted. I'm impressed that David was able to arrange this so quickly. The men (minus David) reach the open grave, where there's no bier or even a carpet to rest the body. Keith wonders where to put Nate down without getting the shroud dirty. It's going to be plenty dirty in a minute, Keith. "Dust to dust," George says more poetically as they ease Nate onto the grass. Ruth stands at one side of the grave, flanked by Sarah and Maggie. Brenda's standing alone across from them, and Claire's at the head. Or the foot. I don't know. There's no marker. Stupid Nate. Panting, Rico asks if Nate wanted a poem read. Ruth asks where David is. Keith says David's too upset. "Sometimes we can't be everywhere we want to be," he tries. Unimpressed, Ruth grumps, "Yes, well, sometimes we can," and starts walking back to where the cars are parked.

Where David appears to be just getting control over himself. He's crawled into the back seat of the Keithmobile, where he's slumped down low with one hand over his heart. He finally gathers the courage to look out the window again. Which of course is when his vision of Jimmy Felon flings itself hard against the glass, its red hood up and its eye sockets packed with cotton. Gah! David scrambles to the far side of the Keithmobile and goes fetal with panic as heavy blows rain down on the window. But then those blows fade to gentle taps as Ruth stands outside, patiently waiting for him to let her in. He unlocks the door for her. She says they're starting, and he says he can't do it. "If you don't get out of this car, you will hate yourself forever," she says without anger. David knows, but it doesn't change anything: "I'm so dizzy I can't breathe." Ruth realizes there's more going on here than garden-variety grief. But rather than demanding an explanation, she says, "Then we'll wait until you can." She gets into the car and sits to him while they wait for his panic to subside.

Which must have worked, because we cut to the two of them walking up the hill together. Keith meets them and takes David's other hand. They all make it to the gravesite, where Brenda's now perched on the pile of dirt, watching, her expression inscrutable. David pulls a sheet of paper out of his suit pocket to read it, but all he can get out is, "Could someone?" Everyone looks around, and this time it's Sarah who steps up. It's a sad tableau around the grave; from left to right, looking across the hole, we have Claire, Keith, David, Sarah, Ruth, Maggie, George, and Rico on one side, with Brenda all alone on her side. It's not clear whether she chose to be alone, or whether no one else made an effort to include her. Probably both. Sarah takes up position at the foot of the grave (or the head -- I still don't know, thanks to stupid Nate) and begins: "From the Mystic Odes of Rumi." Brenda sighs like she knows she's in for a long, annoying haul. The poem's here, so I'm not going to bother transcribing it. But as Sarah continues, Keith holds both of David's hands from behind as David hugs himself. Ruth and Maggie stand and listen. Brenda stares at Nate's shrouded body with a grim smirk. Claire listens, trying to make sense of what she's hearing, and suddenly she's in a flashback.

Ten-year-old Claire -- who doesn't really look like a young Lauren Ambrose, but where the hell do you find one of those? -- walks down the hallway to the sound of Nirvana's "All Apologies," and pushes open Nate's bedroom door, which is standing ajar. Nate himself -- twenty-nine, if my math holds up, and sporting the fluffy haircut of the recovering mulleteer -- is sitting on the floor to the stereo, smoking a joint and looking upset. I don't know why he's home on a non-holiday and I don't care. "Kurt Cobain died today," Nate says shakily. "He killed himself. He was just too pure for this world." Oh, whatever. I'm sure Cobain's postmortem tox screen found nothing but purity. Props to Peter Krause for saying that line with a straight face, though. Claire says, "Well, his music will live on." Nate agrees, holds out the joint, and asks Claire if she wants to try some. "Sure," she says, and Nate's bedroom door closes behind her.

Back at the funeral, present-day Claire smiles at having finally dredged up one happy memory of her brother, even if it's one that shows what a seriously fucked-up family she's part of. As Sarah continues to read, Maggie begins sobbing. Ruth puts an arm around her, and Maggie buries her face in Ruth's shoulder. Brenda watches this little moment from her spot on the ground and seethes quietly to herself, her hatred complete. We have yet to receive any indication that Ruth knows what went on between Maggie and Nate, not that Brenda cares right now. It'll be interesting to see who Ruth finds out from. I predict George, which of course means that it won't be George.

Sarah finishes reading and smiles at everyone comfortingly. And now it gets sad. Not because I particularly miss Nate, but because I feel bad for these people who lost such a big part of their lives. It's still so fresh for them that they can't yet see how much better off they all are now. Rico nods to Keith and George and they gather around the shrouded corpse. Each of the three of them takes one of the four attached straps and tries to lift Nate, which only results in George dropping his side and cursing while David, unable to move himself from his spot, flinches. Claire runs up and grabs the free strap, and she, Rico, Keith, and George lower Nate into the ground. David finally unfreezes. He walks to the pile of dirt and grabs one of the several shovels sticking out of it -- completely ignoring Brenda as she retrieves her shoes from the spot -- and scoops in a few shovelfuls onto the shroud, sobbing as he does so. Rico watches sadly, then joins in the digging. Keith and Claire get shovels too and go to work, while David leans on his and cries. Brenda throws in one scoop and turns away in disgust, casting the shovel aside. If she was trying to hit Maggie, she missed by about twenty feet. Claire continues while Rico takes a break. Without a word, Ruth gently takes Rico's shovel from him and drops in one last pile that covers the grave's-eye-view camera.

Later, three dark-colored cars leave the park as the camera pans down to the fresh earth covering Nate's plot. And then some guys come in and build a mini-mall there. Well, not really, but that would serve Nate right. Brenda is the last to return to her car, because nobody cares about her, so of course when she gets in and turns the key the starter just sort of grunts. She starts looking in her purse for her cell phone, which is when Late Nate, Jr.'s voice asks, "Do you like the poem I chose?" Brenda closes her eyes, makes an oh, JUST what I needed right now face and snaps that she hated it. "Mystical, maudlin crap," she critiques. I'm resisting the obvious joke here. It would be easy, but not especially fair. Nate, sitting in the shotgun seat in his wedding suit, says Brenda just didn't understand it. ["That line right there -- before he even mentioned Maggie, just that dismissive, I'm-the-smartest-guy-in-the-room line and the matching tone -- is everything I've always hated about this character. Fuck off, Nate." -- Sars] "It's about spiritual depth," he claims. "Maggie understood it." Brenda spits that Maggie "couldn't even admit that she fucked you." Nate says Maggie just didn't want to "pollute what we shared by handing it over to your filthy imagination." Brenda's not impressed with what they shared: "Adultery while your wife's pregnant and raising your child from another woman?" Nate accuses Brenda of always thinking of Maya that way. "Even when she's calling you mommy, you think, I'm stuck raising some dead bitch's kid." And now some dead prick's kid, too. Nate's getting angry now. "You just wanted me to plug you with your own baby. Now you've got that. So you can drop the wronged little wife routine." Man, why did Brenda marry Nate in the first place if she thought he saw her that way? Ever helpful, Nate's got a theory: "You could have married Joe if you wanted to be with someone who really wanted to be with you, but deep down you know that everyone who wants to be with you is a fucking idiot. Because just like everybody else in your psychotic family, you have to destroy everything and everyone you love!" Brenda, crying now, begs Nate to leave her alone. And then she is alone, sitting in her car, breathing hard. And we're sad that Nate is dead…why? Even though he's gone, dude could have haunted Triple-A if he wanted to help out. Wouldn't have killed him.

At night, Anthony and Durrell very sweetly bring David some alphabet soup and some iPod-borne smooth jazz in bed. David says he didn't know they were such good nurses. "You learn something new every day," Durrell says. They must have picked up those skills taking care of their mom. And David didn't even have to OD. This, then, is why you should always adopt from drug addicts. In the ensuing lull, they can all hear the muffled sound of Keith in another room, yelling over the phone at the Pasqueasel. He quits, among other things. Anthony worries that now the Pasqueasel will take away their iPods. "I hope not," David quips. "I need my smooth jazz." Don't worry, David; you can just dip into the weekly PlayStation budget.

Ruth's sitting around the table at home with Sarah, Bettina, and, believe it or not, George. Did Maggie leave without him? Did he move back in after the burial? I suppose these questions will have to wait until week. Nobody appears to mention what they talked about the last time these three women were all gathered around this table. As for this time, they're talking about getting over things, and Ruth in particular wonders how people do it. Ruth, it just might take a few more days. George agrees with me, saying it takes time. "And remembering love," Sarah adds. "What the hell does that mean?" Ruth wonders. George guesses, "Slowly, you fall back in love with whatever really mattered to you." Sarah adds that you find a way to make sense of what you've lost. Ruth says it doesn't seem possible. Sarah decides this is a good time to tell Ruth that Nate appeared to her in a dream last night. "He didn't really say anything," Sarah says. Wasn't Nate, then. "But he had a very loving presence." Definitely not Nate. Ruth asks Sarah if she's sure he didn't say anything about death. Sarah: "He didn't have to say it, sweetie. I got the message." Could not be less Nate. Ruth sighs in something like relief. And then the doorbell rings.

Ruth starts downstairs (way to let the grieving mother answer her own door, friends) to find Brenda already coming into the house carrying a sleeping Maya. "Hello, dear," Ruth says. Brenda puts Maya down (it's okay, she's awake now so she doesn't topple over onto her head) and she runs to her grandmother happily. Ruth sweeps her up and invites Brenda upstairs as her daughter-in-law darts out the door. At first, I thought Brenda was just unceremoniously ditching Maya with Grandma, which would be kind of funny. But then Brenda comes back inside, which is less funny. Except when she reappears, she's carrying Maya's suitcase, and we're back to funny again. Brenda sets it on the floor and frets, "I can't do this right now. I need you to take her for -- I don't know how long." Ruth says of course. Brenda weepily says that she just doesn't want to make things worse. She pulls herself together and steps up to where Ruth is holding Maya, and tells her to stay with Grandma. She says, "I love you." No response from the munchkin. Aw. Brenda makes a sad face, like Maya not reacting to something is significant, and walks out, shutting the door behind her. Too bad she forgot to bring the quiche.

Brenda lets herself into her own house. There's not a light on in the place. But there's someone in the kitchen, and Brenda crosses to the fireplace to grab a weapon. We see a shadowy male figure that I might actually be a little nervous about if I hadn't seen Jeremy Sisto's name in the credits. And indeed, Billy calls out, "It's just me." Brenda emotes relief as the lights come on. "I tried to make it back in time for the funeral," Billy says. Brenda asks why he didn't call. Billy shrugs that he "thought it would be better to just get here." And now, with her brother standing right in front of her, Brenda throws herself into his arms and allows herself to do what she hasn't yet, which is to break down and cry like an asshole. They sink to their knees together as the coda from "All Apologies" fades up on the soundtrack. The scene ends before the making out starts.

Claire lies alone on her bed, curled up sideways.

Ruth tucks in Maya, who's asleep again. Fade to white. All in all is all we are, twelve more times over the closing credits. I'm glad that the story didn't try to follow Nate into the afterlife with scenes from his point of view. Or have him appear as an entity who's independent of whatever's going on inside the head of the person he's visiting, as opposed to the way ghosts have always been used on this show. Or stage some joyous reunion between the two Late Nates. Part of me wanted it to happen, or even expected it -- probably just because of our curiosity about what comes after this -- but if anyone at the show had the urge, I'm glad they resisted it.

Of course, there are still two episodes left.